sylph_fics | Slight Infractions

One day last week, my alarm clock woke me at an annoyingly early time, and this was what had been running through my head. As I was dressing, I whinged to

merfilly about her evil Slade from "Wounded Birds and Hidden Heroes" taking over my dreams. She made mewling noises, and Slade was his persistent bastard self, so I wound up writing it all down.

Now she wants me to share, so... y'all get to see.

Title: Slight Infractions
Pairing: toon!Slade/toon!Dinah
Rating: NC-17, but not precisely for sex
Warnings: BDSM related themes in a very unusual (for me) take, coerced consent.

I keep protesting that this doesn't count as het because 1) it's slashy as hell and 2) they do not have intercourse. Filly just laughs at me.

She'd been back in the complex all of three minutes--practically glowing with her success and riding out the leftover adrenaline high of desperately avoiding the Thanagarian guards--when a steel-strong hand latched around her upper arm painfully hard. "Come with me," Slade's voice ordered, not actually giving her a chance to argue as he began to pull her away. She braced against the pull, head tossing back defiantly as she glared at him, starting to snap back at him--and he spoke right over her. "Unless you wish to invalidate our agreement, you will come with me now."

She couldn't risk that. The last week had proven just how valuable the cold, calculating bastard really was--they needed him too much to risk him leaving. The resistance drained out of her like water and she let him pull her forward, taking the steps to his side--not obediently, but reluctantly--in an attempt to get him to release her arm... an unsuccessful attempt. The pressure of his grip eased slightly... but only slightly, and he moved them rapidly back towards his personal domain. She didn't bother trying to watch the keycodes--he would change them in a few days anyway--distracted with trying to push away her rapidly rising fear. She was slowly learning to read his body language, and she'd never seen this kind of anger in him before. The worst thing was, she knew it was her fault. He'd told her to stay Below, but no one else could have made the run after the needed supplies as quickly as she could--or as inconspicuously. She'd been fine until she was on her way back! "Slade, I--"

"Be still, girl." It would have been better if he'd yelled, she decided after a moment where all she could do was shudder. As it was, that coldly cultured command made her feel more like a misbehaving child than a heroine--and that burned like fire. She glared at his jawline as they moved, caught in a multi-sided tug of war between fear and anger and defiant pride, pulse fluttering between its usual rate and an adrenaline-charged staccato as she struggled to stay calm. She'd never been into this part of his lair, a small part of her observed as he walked her through a new set of doors--and as they closed, she knew why. He'd brought her into his personal quarters. She caught flashes of furniture and an uncompromisingly masculine décor scheme in dark tones and leather, deep pile of the carpeting lush even under her boots as he tugged her through another, half-open, door and turned to shut it behind them.

Her eyes flashed around, taking in the layout of the room before her brain caught up, impressions of dresser-carpet-fireplace-painting-bed! coming in rapid-fire before that last one froze both her mental processes and her body. She went stock-still, feeling her eyes flare wide and terrified as she struggled for breath. //NO, nononopleaseno...//

"I am not going to rape you, girl," his voice--she didn't know how to describe it. It was no softer, and not truly gentler, but... she could sense the sincerity in the words. "I much prefer my partners willing."

She tried not to shudder, tried desperately not to show how relieved she was--how afraid she had been of what he wanted in those few moments. "So why bring me here?" she tried for confidence and curiosity with her voice, and could hear that she only half-succeeded.

"I have no intention of shaming you publicly," was the utterly non-reassuring response as he faced her, looking down into her eyes, still holding her arm tightly. "You are leading the rest of our merry little band, making it a poor move strategically for me to chastise you where they might hear. No-one will hear anything here."

The retort that had sat hot on her tongue through the end of his words snapped out, "Chastise me?! What do you think I am, a child?!"

"Not normally. However, you are mine--" The emphasis in that last word made her want to hide--he was evil, she knew it, and he owned her, by her own agreement. He continued to speak as she struggled to control the urge to pull away "--and you deliberately disobeyed me. Did you truly think I would not know that you had gone to the surface as soon as you did? I warned you they were increasing their patrols, that a new supply source was necessary, and you blatantly ignored me." It looked as though there was more waiting behind his lips to be said, but he'd gone silent again behind the mask.

"I ha--"

"No. You chose to," he spoke right over her again, refusing to see that she'd had reason. "I could take that as a signal you wish to be rid of me and no longer want to uphold our agreement--however, if that were the case you would not be standing here. As you are still here, our agreement remains in force. And you willfully provoked me with your disobedience." She started to protest, damn it her world didn't revolve around him, no matter what she'd agreed to, she wasn't about to let anything happen to Sue's baby--and he turned this long, level look on her that stopped her voice in her throat. "That cannot be allowed to go unpunished."

"Unpunished?" she heard her voice shake and hated it, pulse erratic in her throat and ears as she stared up at him, swallowing hard and trying to control her fear. "W-what--"

"I shall let you chose. Your punishment may be strictly physical, and will cause no permanent damage, or you can agree to have no contact with the rest of the heroes and tunnel-dwellers barring what is necessary for planning."

//'Trade the devil for a witch',// the old saying flickered through her head as she stared up at him in shocked dismay, thinking over how badly he could hurt her--and the complete destruction of their ability to resist the Thanagarians if he kept her from the survivors any time he wasn't around... they would soon come to think she had turned on them, had gone to his side... That was unacceptable, but that only left...

"I--" she could not believe she was going to say this, "I'll... take the physical..." At least this wasn't going to be completely new. She'd gotten into enough trouble once or twice as a child that she'd felt her father's hand. Part of her was protesting that this was nothing like that--louder and louder as Slade pulled her to stand immediately next to his bed and released her, panic slithering up her spine all over again at that.

"Take off the jacket. And the gloves," his cool voice ordered, and she obeyed, dawdling with loosening the gloves until, "girl..." came warningly from her right shoulder, then she finished pulling them off rapidly--//What is he planning oh god what's he going to do to me (he said no dama--) no permanent damage, and this is him, he could do a lot without permanent damage oh, god...//--ran through her head as she stuck the gloves in her pockets and slipped the jacket off, feeling his eye on her shoulders with unaccustomed vulnerability, holding it in one hand. He took it from her and tossed it lightly across the room, onto a chair, then he simply flowed from standing beside her to a seat on the bed--firm mattress, she noted as it barely dipped. Even seated, he was almost at her eye level and still very much in control. She heard her breathing, loud and unsteady in the absolute quiet of the room, and she swore he smiled behind the mask--then his lethal body was in motion and he caught her somehow, pulling her down and twisting her body so she wound up face-down in the mattress with her right hand hanging off the bed and her hips hard over his right thigh, her legs up on the bed as well--she'd started to struggle, her instincts not wanting to submit without a fight--"Dinah!" he snapped and she froze, trying not to shake. The positioning was humiliating for an adult and that he'd overpowered her so easily was more shaming yet... She felt his bare left hand on her right wrist as he pulled it up behind her back, wondering whhen he'd stripped his gloves off.

"Other wrist, Dinah. In mine," he ordered, and she moved it, feeling his hand close completely around both her wrists--and his elbow settled at the base of her skull, his arm a heavy weight down most of her spine. His other hand slid intimately down her bottom and his fingers slipped between her legs making her cry out in shocked protest--and somehow he found the catches to unsnap her suit unerringly, popping it open with a twist of his wrist and his hand slipped back up her rear, pulling the leather of the corset until he folded the snaps up onto her back, folded leather biting into the curve of her hipbones.... He wasn't done yet, she realized when his hand slipped up under the folded leather, searching a moment--then he caught the top of her fishnets and pulled down, tugging them down until the elastic bit into the backs of her thighs. His hand slid under her body to free the waistband and push it, too, down somewhat--what a picture she had to make, she thought in disgust, angry and shamed almost enough to cry. The first time anyone not her family had seen her so exposed and it was a man she feared who treated her like a possession....

"If you damage my furniture with your Cry, I'll do this every night for a week," he warned her, and she felt a subtle shift in his body just before an echoing crack sounded in the room and fire blazed in her rear--he apparently didn't believe in starting gently--and she tried not to whimper or move. A second blow fell with that same, echoing noise and the other side of her ass warmed--she didn't mean to move, but bucked down against his leg as if trying to get away. His hand tightened on her wrists, just slightly, and a third blow landed, not any harder but against already stinging flesh and she gasped, hair fallen in her face and eyes mouth and helpless to do anything about it as a fourth blow landed and she mewled, trying to buck down away from that merciless hand.

It did no good to squirm, she soon realized, as being so tightly pressed to his thigh only sent unwanted pressure and need through parts of her that did not need to be involved with this! She made her hips shift backwards, felt the other piece of her costume fall away from her body and another slap of his hand drove her forward onto his leg again, trapped and breathing around the hair in her face and another blow fell--that one was harder, quite a bit so and she couldn't help the whimper that burst from her throat at the pain. The next blow fell on her other cheek, then the next was lower, catching part of her upper thigh and she sobbed at the shock, tears she couldn't control starting to fall from her eyes as she twisted her entire body against his hold--to absolutely no avail as his hand tightened on her wrists and his elbow pressed down against her neck and shoulders as yet another blow fell, high on her other thigh. She cried out again and her legs kicked blindly, without effe--not without effect. The pattern of the blows stopped and Slade moved under her, somehow freeing the leg she was laying over to loop it over her legs, shifting his body so her bare belly was pressed to the hard material of his armor and left leg, hips now bent over his left thigh, legs now held down by the hard pressure of his right thigh, armor cold against her skin as his hand fell again, back where he started. She moved, shifting against the cool, hard armor under her, only realizing then that her body was reacting to this in way she didn't want. She cold feel her nipples hard against the top of her corset--and worse, hot wet slickness between her legs, being rubbed against his armor every time she moved and another strike made her sob and pant and twist helplessly in his hold. Another, and another and she was crying, hot tears spilling down her face and she heard herself cry out, "I'm sorry!"

His hand didn’t stop, "What are you sorry for?" the tone was far too innocent for the man spanking her, making her react to it and she bucked again, sobbing at the complete strength of his hold and her own position, "I'm sorry I disobeyed you!" she forced out around the sobs, twisting against him and three more hard, stinging slaps landed in quick succession--the pain made her cry again, unable to breathe for the sobs and the shame and the wicked, incomprehensible arousal...

"Good girl," //praise?// she didn't understand, "It's over now, good girl," his voice actually sounded pleased as his hand ran gently over her burning, throbbing ass--god, she wasn't going to be able to sit for a week--and she gasped in shock as his fingers slid along the soaking wetness of her folds and over something that made her scream and thrash and completely lose touch with reality for long, long moments..

She came back to the feeling of his left hand in her hair, her wrists freed and still laying on the small of her back and her costume folded back into place, right hand stroking a thigh gently. She panted and slid a hand up to push the hair out of her face and mouth, feeling her body shaking, unable to even try to look at him.

"Good girl, Dinah," he said, oddly gently. "It's over. Clean slate again," as though he hadn't just... she didn’t' have the words.

Yes, that is the end. I did mention the alarm clock was inconvenient, right?

Ask Filly where it falls in her verse.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

senmut

dskjfasefioawefion

Oh my good god, yes please keep him for hat extra little evil there at the end...Oh he is so seductive and firm and powerful and ....

I hate work

I love this

From:

Slight Infractions

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