Work Text:
Slap!
Modulated to exactly your level of pain tolerance.
Slap!
Powers tell her exactly how much pain to inflict on you.
Slap!
Powers are able to tell her how to make you feel good.
Slap!
Her power told her that the best way to make you feel good was to hurt you.
Slap!
You want this.
Lisa cried out, body trembling, as Taylor’s hand struck the round pink globe of her rear once more, sending agonizingly sweet pain radiating through her. She was so wet she could feel it running down her calves, let alone her inner thighs; she didn’t know if she’d ever been this wet, even all the other times the two of them had been together. It hurt so good she could barely stand it; she didn’t know if she could stand it for much longer. She hadn’t realized she was this much of a masochist.
Not just a masochist, her power told her. Having to be in control at all times is tiring. You’ve desperately needed a chance to have that power taken away in a situation you felt safe. But, and she swore it felt like it was smug as it continued, you’re also a masochist.
She felt Taylor’s hand make contact with her ass again, but this time, it was a light, gentle touch. Her fingertips traced the full curve of Lisa’s rear, then began to circle the gap in her thighs, teasing the possibility that they could move to her slick, swollen labia at any moment. But she didn’t, and it was driving Lisa crazy.
Taylor’s other hand, which had been stroking her back, began to glide up her back; the knowledge that Taylor was going to pull her hair came too late to spoil it, but too late for it to be a surprise. Instead, she had just enough time for anticipation to build before she felt the fingers curling into her blonde hair, and squeezing her at the base of her scalp.
“You want this, don’t you,” Taylor tried to murmur, only a faint tremor in her voice, echoing the sentiment of her power. She wondered, for a moment, if Taylor’s Thinker power fed her that information; she didn’t need its confirmation to know the answer was yes. What surprised her was what came next.
Does not have sadistic tendencies, her power told her. Depression-induced low libido; never sexually experimented. This is her first real experience with kink. Is enjoying how it makes you feel. Has a crush on you. Wants to make you feel good. Wants you to keep having sex with her. Is afraid if she does a bad job you won’t want to have sex with her anymore. Needs to be reassured.
“I do,” Lisa breathed, voice trembling just as hard as Taylor’s, but for entirely different reasons. ‘You’re doing great,’ she didn’t say, because the moment she thought about it, her power kindly let her know that directly reassuring Taylor would make her feel inadequate; she didn’t want Lisa to know she had to reassure her. “I needed this more than I though I could,” she said instead, and she saw the tension on Taylor’s face break into a smile. Her face then went completely red when Lisa grinned and said “thanks, Mistress. Am I a good girl?”
“You are a very good girl,” Taylor mumbled, then, with more force, “want a reward?”
“Can I?” she asked, flipping the question around to Taylor, letting her continue to be in charge of the scene. Honestly, powers or not, she was so adorable Lisa could hardly believe she was real. But instead, she just waited, wiggling her rear enticingly, waiting for whatever Taylor’s response was. Once again, she knew what was going to happen right before Taylor’s hand struck her again, hard, then slid down her aching ass and finally began to tease her oh so sensitive labia. She didn’t even try to hold back the moan of pleasure as her fingers made contact, expertly teasing her and toying with her in ways she’d never even contemplated since she’d discovered masturbation. And it wasn’t just because of her power helpfully informing her that Taylor loved to hear her moans.
Unfortunately, it seemed like Taylor wasn’t quite done tormenting her; as she felt the heat building inside of her, felt the tension inside of her rising to the point where her muscles started clamping down, Taylor withdrew her fingers. Lisa watched in frustration and - despite herself, arousal - as Taylor brought them to her lips, and without a moment’s hesitation, began to suck them clean.
Loves the way you taste. Can’t get enough of you.
Thanks, Power, she thought. Hadn’t realized that from when she woke me up by giving me head this morning. But, despite herself, she felt her face reddening; it was really flattering to know how into her Taylor could get.
The slap of skin against skin rang out again as Taylor once again brought her hand down on Lisa’s hot, aching ass, leaving her legs shaking by the time she finished. Then, once again, Taylor began to caress her, nimbly and expertly stimulating her almost - almost - to the point of release. Slowly, that point grew closer and closer to when the stimulation began, until it felt like all Taylor had to do was touch her to send her to the edge. It felt so good, so sweet, so warm, that each time Taylor switched back to spanking her it hurt more than the feeling of being struck. It started to feel like she was flying, like she was being thrown from pain to pleasure and back with so much force that she couldn’t hang onto her body. Then, finally, Taylor didn’t move her hand away. Lisa felt her muscles beginning to pulse, felt the heat inside of her building to a veritable inferno, felt the tension inside of her beginning to snap.
Doesn’t know how to continue dominating you in this situation.
“I-I’m coming, mistress,” Lisa gasped, trying to hold back her orgasm. “May I come?”
“Come for me,” Taylor murmured, her wide lips stretched into a full face smile. And then, permission granted, Lisa stopped holding back. It felt like liquid pleasure was washing over her body, pouring out in waves from deep inside of her, crashing down against her skin and then churning back into her again. It felt so amazing she could scarcely believe this was an orgasm; if not for that little not-voice in the back of her head, she’d wonder if Taylor had gained some kind of Striker power from her Trigger. But no, this was just what it felt like; what it should have felt like, what it could have felt like all along if her power hadn’t been fucking with her up until she met Taylor. Or maybe not. Maybe, if she hadn't wound up taking her headache out on a couple of bitches harassing that lonely girl one cold November afternoon, nobody would ever have been able to make her feel like this. Kind of worth the broken nose, if she thought about it that way.
Then another wave of pleasure crashed over her, and she finally felt the conscious parts of her mind growing blissfully silent, letting her just envelop herself in the feeling of sheer sexual bliss. She heard someone screaming, probably her, as her mind dissolved into a haze of white-hot ecstasy.
———
Lisa was having the strangest dream. She walked, naked as the day she was born, across mountains of dark red crystals, twisting into fractal patterns as they formed bridges over an infinitely deep darkness. She didn’t know what she was walking. She didn’t know where. But somehow, her feet knew both of those things, and so they kept going, the rest of her dragged along for the ride.
Then, as she walked into a massive crystalline cavern, so vast that Brockton Bay itself could probably fit inside of it, she heard a strange sound. The sound of something not entirely unlike wood striking something not entirely unlike flesh. And a voice, eerily familiar, crying out in pain before babbling frantically.
“Thinks - ah! Thinks you’d look sexier with a six pack.”
Thwack!
“H-has a mmmajor muscle fetish.”
Thwack!
“Ohh… N-not too bulky, though. Attracted to femininity, finds masculinity unattractive.”
Thwack!
“Ow… finds R-Rachel sexually attractive despite her masculinity. Over the cusp of what she’ll normally tolerate, but exotic enough to be enticing regardless.”
Thwack!
“Ah! Mistress, please!”
“Are you done, darling?” a second voice asked. From her hips up, the creature it came from resembled a human, if humans had skin made out of iridescent black chitin, glimmering with colors Lisa knew her eyes couldn’t - shouldn't be able to - see. But each hip split off into four separate segmented legs, leaving her delicately balanced on each wickedly sharp point. With one hand, the spider-like woman caressed her submissive, who she had bound in strange, disjointed webs looped into a massive cocoon; the other rubbed something that looked for all the world like someone had figured out how to grow a living paddle against her submissive’s pert rear.
“Sexually attracted to Alec due to his femininity as well,” the bound woman, human in shape but with a body that looked like it was formed out of an endless number of tangled wires all twisted together, whispered. She hung limply from the ceiling, encased almost completely in webs; the only parts of her left exposed were her bare ass, her breasts, and a small portion of her face that included her mouth. The webs even wrapped around her thighs, holding them closed and denying even the possibility of relief.
Thwack! went the paddle, as the spider-like woman brought it down hard, sending her submissive spinning in the webbing anchoring her to the ceiling.
“No, darling, although I’m going to save that for later. Hmm. Well, I think you’ve given me enough to work with." She then cleared her throat, and in a perfect imitation of her submissive’s voice, called out, “Is winded. Has been neglecting herself due to depression. Is out of shape. Will not self-motivate. Needs a workout buddy.” She then bent down to her submissive’s exposed ears, and murmured, in her own voice, “now isn’t that better?”
“Yes, mistress,” the bound woman whispered. “You’re so good at this, mistress.”
“Am I? Because I think you’re just acting up because you want me to punish you.”
“Yes, mistress,” the bound woman admitted.
“Ah, the curse of honesty,” the spider-like woman murmured, then brought the paddle down again and again, the sounds of something that was not wood against something that was not flesh filling the space. Then, abruptly, she stopped, and dug the fingers of two separate hands into her submissive’s exposed breasts. The fact that one of those hands wasn’t there a moment before was neither relevant nor unexpected. “But why fight it when we’ll have even more fun together if you’re a good girl?” she asked, as she released most of the pressure, now gently playing with her submissive’s nipples.
“Yes, mistress. Sorry, mistress.”
“Are you really?”
“…No, mistress.”
Lisa had just watched the scene silently, not even willing to chance breathing too loudly. But somehow, something she did must have made a noise; that was the only explanation she could think of for why the spider-like woman’s head rapidly whipped around, fixing far, far too many dark, shiny eyes on her. “You’re not supposed to be here,” it said. But there was no malice in the voice. She was curious. No, intrigued would be the best way to describe it. The woman’s upper body twisted around to follow her head, and she loomed down, closer and closer. Lisa had thought they were a similar size when she’d seen them playing. She was wrong. So terribly wrong. She felt like a mountain was crashing down on her, the face so massive she could only comprehend that it was bigger than her on a level where it no longer mattered exactly how much. “Now how did you get in here?” she asked, voice so powerful at this distance that Lisa felt it more than she heard it.
“Subspace,” the bound woman suggested. “Altered consciousness combined with brief unconsciousness due to extremely powerful orgasm let her connect to me on a deeper level than normal. Because of my own state, she was able to access our shared space through my perceptions.”
“Really?” the spider-like titan asked, peering at Lisa like she was a bug under so many microscopes. Then she pulled back, and sent her not-paddle slamming into her submissive over and over. “Do! You! See!” she shouted. “Do you see what we miss out on because you don’t know when to shut up!?”
“S-Sol, mistress,” the bound titan sobbed, and the spider-like titan paused, then gently rubbed her submissive’s rear.
“I’m sorry,” she said, genuine apology in her voice. “I got carried away. Still, do you understand why I had to step in?”
“Yes, mistress,” the bound titan whimpered.
“Good ———,” her mistress purred. Then she turned back to Lisa, and bared countless fang-tipped chelicerae in something that fucking Nilbog wouldn’t have called a smile. “Anyway, you’d best be getting back home, dear,” she said, as she reached out, the feeling of a mountain crashing down on Lisa returning as a finger that dwarfed the goddamn bay hurtled towards her. “We wouldn’t want this mouthy bitch ruining things, would we?” It touched her with a gentleness she couldn’t comprehend from something that scale, and she felt herself get flung backwards, the eerie landscape starting to break up as she went. “Now,” she heard, faintly, “let’s see how sensitive that vestigial waste port you designed is.”
“R-Rigel, mistress.”
“Good ———,” she heard again, as her eyes finally began to open.
“Taylor?” she croaked, as she looked up at the face of her worried dominant, who’d wrapped her arms around her at some point after she’d passed out.
“Y-Yeah?”
“We’re doing that again, kay?”
Taylor’s arms squeezed her tight, and she saw little tears in the corner of her eyes. “I’d like that,” she mumbled.
“Oh, hey, while I’m thinking about it? I’ve been letting myself go lately. Wanna be my workout buddy?”
“I think I’d like that too,” Taylor admitted, as the two of them snuggled up together.
You’re a good ——, her power relayed to her, before it went back to describing all the ways Taylor was crazy about her, refusing to respond to any of her efforts to probe it about what the fuck just happened.