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In which a superhero meets his match, masks are uncovered and a mad scientist just tries to get some mad science-ing done without getting distracted by the antics of her magical minion.
Diane Cole.
Shade stared at the computer screens illuminating his workspace, a basement connected to his mansion via secret tunnel. He tapped his finger against the desk, his intense glare on the file he’d just pulled up.
There were three Diane Coles living in Paragon City, none of whom looked remotely like Dionaea. So he’d expanded his search, almost half-convinced that she’d given him a fake name — until he’d found a young girl in Cap au Mercy, hissing in a sharp breath at the photograph accompanying the medical file.
Blue eyes. Skin and bones. Her normally luscious curled hair hung listlessly around her. If he’d passed that girl on the street, he wouldn’t have had to fight lust, but the urge to give her something to eat. Yet it was clearly recognizable as the villainess currently sexually tormenting him.
He quickly checked the rest of the file. 21 years old, which made her three years younger than him. A criminal record consisting mostly of unpaid parking tickets, jaywalking and grand larceny. And… a death sentence. He leaned back in his chair, gazing at the diagnosis.
Diane Cole had disappeared out of a hospital four months ago, which was one month before Dionaea had surfaced in Paragon.
So she’d been telling the truth. Which left the question… just what was she playing at?
***
The cord snapped, the vicious kick sending the sandbag flying. It skidded along the padded ground.
Shade exhaled, closing his eyes. His muscles ached with the strain of his merciless training, but he did not want to stop. Stopping meant he’d have time to think about more than his stance, the precise angle of his blades, about how he needed to roll just so after a teleport to stay balanced.
Idle time was his enemy these days. Invariably his thoughts would turn toward her. And if he somehow managed to push her from his mind, he’d obsess over his weakness.
His resolution to stay away from women’s clothing had lasted all of one week.
I want to see you in hot panties, said she. Excellent idea, said his dick. Or his mind. Or whatever fucked-up part of him really, really loved those goddamn silks. And the idea of wearing them in front of her.
At least he was still not crossing the line. Panties and only panties. No bras, no pantyhose, no high heels, no matter how cute and tempting they might look…
He screwed his eyes tightly shut. Cute. What was wrong with him?
Shade blinked, delivering a brutal roundhouse kick to a training dummy.
***
“Got a Four Five Nine in progress, Peregrine Occult Museum,” announced a slightly crackling voice emanating from Shade’s earpiece. He tilted his head, listening intently. “Requesting immediate backup. Suspect is white female, confirmed metahuman, utilizing vines and narcotics of some sort—“
The transmission cut off.
Shade remained frozen, gazing down from his vantage point atop a skyscraper at the city stretched out before him.
Let someone else deal with her, whispered a voice in his head. Ignore her. Don’t give in to this obsession.
But didn’t that amount to running away?
His fingers closed into a fist. He was Shade. Criminals everywhere pissed themselves with fright at the thought of him. He did not run away from some scantily clad girl.
His body dissolved into the night.
Shade appeared in the lobby of the museum, the small wisps of mist blending into the shadows. The stealth aspect of his powers was less well-known — and he liked to keep it that way. Criminals assumed that he could just teleport to the right spot out of thin air right away, which only served to enhance his reputation. Truthfully, Shade could only blink to locations he’d previously been to or which he had direct visual contact with. He’d made a point of visiting near every block in the city, which meant he could instantly appear at least in the general vicinity of a crime scene, but he still often needed to do a little scouting.
The museum was eerily silent and Shade soundlessly made his way deeper into the labyrinthine hallways, finding a security guard slumped against the wall. The man’s lips were curled in a serene smile as he snored lightly, no doubt a victim of Dionaea’s sedatives. No point in wasting time trying to get him to wake up.
As Shade crept closer to the exhibition hall, soft music drifted toward him. He cocked his head. Coming upon a closed door, he once more dissolves into fine dark mist, slipping through the cracks.
Dionaea was sitting on a plush bench, rhythmically nodding her head to the pop ballad blaring from the iPod lying next to her. An ancient tome sat upon her lap, the pages so stiff and brittle they looked they might crumble into dust any second. She leisurely perused them, not seeming at all concerned with preserving the likely priceless artifact.
She hadn’t noticed him.
Shade surveyed the area around her. No vines. He saw it clearly in his mind’s eye — all he had to do was teleport behind her. Her magic would not be a danger if he avoided drawing blood and stayed clear of her claws. She was so physically weak; one strong hit would likely knock her out.
He could blink to the nearest police station and drop her off, wiping his hands of this entire mess.
It’d be so easy.
He hesitated.
Dionaea looked up then, gazing directly at him. He jolted in surprise. Could she sense his presence?
“Shade.” Her voice was a pleased purr.
Fucking magic users.
He stepped out of the shadows, keeping his blades sheathed. He’d learned that much from their last encounter.
“What are you doing with that tome?” he asked gruffly.
“Reading,” she answered perkily, absently slamming the antique book shut with such a lack of care it made Shade wince. “Waiting for you.”
Trap.
Just as the thought flashed through his mind, his gaze snapped up — the ceiling was moving. His eyes widened when he realized what he was seeing. Thick, writhing vines, larger than he’d ever seen them. He immediately tried to blink, but they were incredibly fast for their enormous size, lashing out and wrapping themselves tightly around his wrists.
Dionaea laughed in delight as he was once again forced into humiliating captivity. She sauntered up to him with a grin, holding up her hand. No… holding something up between her index and middle finger. An earbud. One he recognized as his own. One he’d had to replace a couple of days ago. It was not an unusual occurrence; they often got knocked out or damaged in fights, so he’d thought little of it. She’d stolen it?
“…damn you.”
“Ah, I’m glad to see you’re keeping up,” she gloated with that fucking smirk of hers. “The alarms are off, as are the security cameras. The guards will be asleep for hours. No backup is on its way. Which means…” She slowed down her steps, coming to a halt in front of him. She placed her slim fingers on his chest, stroking suggestively. “…no one to interrupt us. Finally, I have you all to myself.”
Shade strove to ignore the shiver running up his spine at her touch.
“Why are you doing this?” he whispered hoarsely.
She tilted her head at him, and flashed a brilliant smile. “What does it look like? Because I want time to seduce you.”
“Why?”
“Gosh, I don’t know. There’s this thing, I’m not sure if you’ve heard of it…” She leaned forward, whispering as if confiding a secret. “It’s called having sex. I like it a lot. I would like to do it with you. Thoughts?”
His lips parted, but his mind was utterly blank. No words came out.
Dionaea did not seem to mind the lack of answer, her fingertips trailing lower to his hips as she stepped closer, so close that he caught that sweet scent of hers. She smelled like a warm spring day. Her nimble hands moved to the zipper and still he could not find the words to stop her (why stop? asked a treacherous part of his mind). She gave the black fabric a tug and it slid down.
“Lace,” she murmured with approval, tracing the intricate detail framing the red silk. His cock twitched in response, already well on its way to being rock hard.
“No,” he choked out. “Not… not with you. Never with one such as you.” Why did the first woman to accept his kinks have to be her?
She stilled her hand, tearing her gaze from his erection to look into his eyes. “Because I’m a villain?”
“Because I’m a hero.”
She was silent for a long moment — and then she sank to her knees in front of him. His eyes widened and suddenly there was not enough air in the room. She leaned forward, brushing her cheek along his length, only a thin layer of silk separating them. “Then let’s be someone else. Just for tonight,” she said in a low voice and then she was kissing him there and if the vines weren’t holding him, his knees might have buckled right then.
“I’ll be Diane. And you’ll be…” She trailed off, expecting him to fill in the blank.
He laughed breathlessly, stunned at her audacity. “I’m not telling you my civilian name.”
Her lips quirked into a smile, her fingers lovingly running up and down his length. “I don’t want that name. I’m sure you have another. Your real name. The one you only wear when you…” She tugged at the silky fabric. “…wear this.”
“No,” he said vehemently. The line. A female name was crossing the line.
“No?” She smiled up at him. “We wear so many masks already, what’s one more?”
He mutely shook his head.
Diane pressed another kiss to his throbbing cock. He bit back a groan. “Jessica,” she said softly, and his heart gave a painful thump. “Or maybe Bethany?”
He tightly shut his eyes, trying to think of anything but the image of her playing with his pantie-clad cock. “The line,” he whispered to himself. He could still feel her, his entire body sizzling with heat.
“Yes, the line! Let’s cross it!”
He only shook his head again, body shaking with tension.
“I see,” she said. “You drive a hard bargain.” She let go off him and he wanted to cry out at the loss, but restrained himself.
Diane slowly stood up. “Look at me.” There was a command in her voice and he could not resist, opening his eyes. He hissed in a sharp breath at the sight that greeted him. The delicate leaves that had strategically covered her torso were gone, revealing beautiful, perfectly perky breasts. His imagination ran wild with images, craving to nibble on those gorgeous pink nipples. He was breathing hard, his dick straining against the fabric of his panties.
She smiled triumphantly, slowly circling around him. He had to crane his neck to keep her in his line of sight.
“Do you like them?” she purred seductively. “I could let you play with them. Oh, all the dirty, naughty things we could do…”
An utterly feminine whimper of want escaped his lips.
She took another step and then he could not see her anymore, so he started desperately straining against the vines, wanting, needing another glimpse.
Diane’s hands brushed the base of his spine, her breasts pressing against his back as she leaned forward to whisper in his ear.
“Tell me your name.”
His harsh breath sounded unbearably loud to his ears, every cell of his body tingling with awareness. He’d never been this hard in his life.
“Kara,” he whispered. “My name is Kara.”
In which a superhero meets his match, masks are uncovered and a mad scientist just tries to get some mad science-ing done without getting distracted by the antics of her magical minion.
Diane Cole.
Shade stared at the computer screens illuminating his workspace, a basement connected to his mansion via secret tunnel. He tapped his finger against the desk, his intense glare on the file he’d just pulled up.
There were three Diane Coles living in Paragon City, none of whom looked remotely like Dionaea. So he’d expanded his search, almost half-convinced that she’d given him a fake name — until he’d found a young girl in Cap au Mercy, hissing in a sharp breath at the photograph accompanying the medical file.
Blue eyes. Skin and bones. Her normally luscious curled hair hung listlessly around her. If he’d passed that girl on the street, he wouldn’t have had to fight lust, but the urge to give her something to eat. Yet it was clearly recognizable as the villainess currently sexually tormenting him.
He quickly checked the rest of the file. 21 years old, which made her three years younger than him. A criminal record consisting mostly of unpaid parking tickets, jaywalking and grand larceny. And… a death sentence. He leaned back in his chair, gazing at the diagnosis.
Diane Cole had disappeared out of a hospital four months ago, which was one month before Dionaea had surfaced in Paragon.
So she’d been telling the truth. Which left the question… just what was she playing at?
The cord snapped, the vicious kick sending the sandbag flying. It skidded along the padded ground.
Shade exhaled, closing his eyes. His muscles ached with the strain of his merciless training, but he did not want to stop. Stopping meant he’d have time to think about more than his stance, the precise angle of his blades, about how he needed to roll just so after a teleport to stay balanced.
Idle time was his enemy these days. Invariably his thoughts would turn toward her. And if he somehow managed to push her from his mind, he’d obsess over his weakness.
His resolution to stay away from women’s clothing had lasted all of one week.
I want to see you in hot panties, said she. Excellent idea, said his dick. Or his mind. Or whatever fucked-up part of him really, really loved those goddamn silks. And the idea of wearing them in front of her.
At least he was still not crossing the line. Panties and only panties. No bras, no pantyhose, no high heels, no matter how cute and tempting they might look…
He screwed his eyes tightly shut. Cute. What was wrong with him?
Shade blinked, delivering a brutal roundhouse kick to a training dummy.
“Got a Four Five Nine in progress, Peregrine Occult Museum,” announced a slightly crackling voice emanating from Shade’s earpiece. He tilted his head, listening intently. “Requesting immediate backup. Suspect is white female, confirmed metahuman, utilizing vines and narcotics of some sort—“
The transmission cut off.
Shade remained frozen, gazing down from his vantage point atop a skyscraper at the city stretched out before him.
Let someone else deal with her, whispered a voice in his head. Ignore her. Don’t give in to this obsession.
But didn’t that amount to running away?
His fingers closed into a fist. He was Shade. Criminals everywhere pissed themselves with fright at the thought of him. He did not run away from some scantily clad girl.
His body dissolved into the night.
Shade appeared in the lobby of the museum, the small wisps of mist blending into the shadows. The stealth aspect of his powers was less well-known — and he liked to keep it that way. Criminals assumed that he could just teleport to the right spot out of thin air right away, which only served to enhance his reputation. Truthfully, Shade could only blink to locations he’d previously been to or which he had direct visual contact with. He’d made a point of visiting near every block in the city, which meant he could instantly appear at least in the general vicinity of a crime scene, but he still often needed to do a little scouting.
The museum was eerily silent and Shade soundlessly made his way deeper into the labyrinthine hallways, finding a security guard slumped against the wall. The man’s lips were curled in a serene smile as he snored lightly, no doubt a victim of Dionaea’s sedatives. No point in wasting time trying to get him to wake up.
As Shade crept closer to the exhibition hall, soft music drifted toward him. He cocked his head. Coming upon a closed door, he once more dissolves into fine dark mist, slipping through the cracks.
Dionaea was sitting on a plush bench, rhythmically nodding her head to the pop ballad blaring from the iPod lying next to her. An ancient tome sat upon her lap, the pages so stiff and brittle they looked they might crumble into dust any second. She leisurely perused them, not seeming at all concerned with preserving the likely priceless artifact.
She hadn’t noticed him.
Shade surveyed the area around her. No vines. He saw it clearly in his mind’s eye — all he had to do was teleport behind her. Her magic would not be a danger if he avoided drawing blood and stayed clear of her claws. She was so physically weak; one strong hit would likely knock her out.
He could blink to the nearest police station and drop her off, wiping his hands of this entire mess.
It’d be so easy.
He hesitated.
Dionaea looked up then, gazing directly at him. He jolted in surprise. Could she sense his presence?
“Shade.” Her voice was a pleased purr.
Fucking magic users.
He stepped out of the shadows, keeping his blades sheathed. He’d learned that much from their last encounter.
“What are you doing with that tome?” he asked gruffly.
“Reading,” she answered perkily, absently slamming the antique book shut with such a lack of care it made Shade wince. “Waiting for you.”
Trap.
Just as the thought flashed through his mind, his gaze snapped up — the ceiling was moving. His eyes widened when he realized what he was seeing. Thick, writhing vines, larger than he’d ever seen them. He immediately tried to blink, but they were incredibly fast for their enormous size, lashing out and wrapping themselves tightly around his wrists.
Dionaea laughed in delight as he was once again forced into humiliating captivity. She sauntered up to him with a grin, holding up her hand. No… holding something up between her index and middle finger. An earbud. One he recognized as his own. One he’d had to replace a couple of days ago. It was not an unusual occurrence; they often got knocked out or damaged in fights, so he’d thought little of it. She’d stolen it?
“…damn you.”
“Ah, I’m glad to see you’re keeping up,” she gloated with that fucking smirk of hers. “The alarms are off, as are the security cameras. The guards will be asleep for hours. No backup is on its way. Which means…” She slowed down her steps, coming to a halt in front of him. She placed her slim fingers on his chest, stroking suggestively. “…no one to interrupt us. Finally, I have you all to myself.”
Shade strove to ignore the shiver running up his spine at her touch.
“Why are you doing this?” he whispered hoarsely.
She tilted her head at him, and flashed a brilliant smile. “What does it look like? Because I want time to seduce you.”
“Why?”
“Gosh, I don’t know. There’s this thing, I’m not sure if you’ve heard of it…” She leaned forward, whispering as if confiding a secret. “It’s called having sex. I like it a lot. I would like to do it with you. Thoughts?”
His lips parted, but his mind was utterly blank. No words came out.
Dionaea did not seem to mind the lack of answer, her fingertips trailing lower to his hips as she stepped closer, so close that he caught that sweet scent of hers. She smelled like a warm spring day. Her nimble hands moved to the zipper and still he could not find the words to stop her (why stop? asked a treacherous part of his mind). She gave the black fabric a tug and it slid down.
“Lace,” she murmured with approval, tracing the intricate detail framing the red silk. His cock twitched in response, already well on its way to being rock hard.
“No,” he choked out. “Not… not with you. Never with one such as you.” Why did the first woman to accept his kinks have to be her?
She stilled her hand, tearing her gaze from his erection to look into his eyes. “Because I’m a villain?”
“Because I’m a hero.”
She was silent for a long moment — and then she sank to her knees in front of him. His eyes widened and suddenly there was not enough air in the room. She leaned forward, brushing her cheek along his length, only a thin layer of silk separating them. “Then let’s be someone else. Just for tonight,” she said in a low voice and then she was kissing him there and if the vines weren’t holding him, his knees might have buckled right then.
“I’ll be Diane. And you’ll be…” She trailed off, expecting him to fill in the blank.
He laughed breathlessly, stunned at her audacity. “I’m not telling you my civilian name.”
Her lips quirked into a smile, her fingers lovingly running up and down his length. “I don’t want that name. I’m sure you have another. Your real name. The one you only wear when you…” She tugged at the silky fabric. “…wear this.”
“No,” he said vehemently. The line. A female name was crossing the line.
“No?” She smiled up at him. “We wear so many masks already, what’s one more?”
He mutely shook his head.
Diane pressed another kiss to his throbbing cock. He bit back a groan. “Jessica,” she said softly, and his heart gave a painful thump. “Or maybe Bethany?”
He tightly shut his eyes, trying to think of anything but the image of her playing with his pantie-clad cock. “The line,” he whispered to himself. He could still feel her, his entire body sizzling with heat.
“Yes, the line! Let’s cross it!”
He only shook his head again, body shaking with tension.
“I see,” she said. “You drive a hard bargain.” She let go off him and he wanted to cry out at the loss, but restrained himself.
Diane slowly stood up. “Look at me.” There was a command in her voice and he could not resist, opening his eyes. He hissed in a sharp breath at the sight that greeted him. The delicate leaves that had strategically covered her torso were gone, revealing beautiful, perfectly perky breasts. His imagination ran wild with images, craving to nibble on those gorgeous pink nipples. He was breathing hard, his dick straining against the fabric of his panties.
She smiled triumphantly, slowly circling around him. He had to crane his neck to keep her in his line of sight.
“Do you like them?” she purred seductively. “I could let you play with them. Oh, all the dirty, naughty things we could do…”
An utterly feminine whimper of want escaped his lips.
She took another step and then he could not see her anymore, so he started desperately straining against the vines, wanting, needing another glimpse.
Diane’s hands brushed the base of his spine, her breasts pressing against his back as she leaned forward to whisper in his ear.
“Tell me your name.”
His harsh breath sounded unbearably loud to his ears, every cell of his body tingling with awareness. He’d never been this hard in his life.
“Kara,” he whispered. “My name is Kara.”
Comments
Exposure
Oh, somebody is getting exposure tonight, just how much will he be able to take.
*shifty eyes*
No idea what you're talking about.
I am...
... LOVING this!
Thank you thank you thank you thank you.
Awww
I'm happy you're enjoying this =D
You caught
all that lovely tension that another rather famous pair of Hero and villainess have, and yet the characters and story is all yours. I'm so envious of how deftly you managed it. Shade is wound just a little too tight, but I think Diane might be able to help! :)
Marvelous and wicked!
Hugs
Grover
Watch out!
Soon no manmade structure will be able to hold my ego.
I'm beyond flattered to have Diane/Shade compared favorably to that certain pair ;)
*hugs*
“My name is Kara.â€
He (She?) better watch out. naming ones-self, especially out loud, can invoke the girl within. Trust me, I know ...
Kara is about to find out...
...the hard way.
Effing Magic users indeed.
Sneaky, beautiful, seductive and wanting Shade for -- sex. And shade is slowly giving in to his urges towards her, or maybe not so slowly since he's worked so hard at NOT thinking about her recently. I love the interaction between these two when they run into each other.
Maggie
*giggles evilly*
Oh the fun that's coming up for the two of them... *teases*
The important line to remember.....
Came from Amelia - "Wonder how much body modification she is capable of."
I wonder just where this little dalliance ends up?
Dallas
D. Eden
Dum Vivimus, Vivamus
My lips are sealed
But I can still cackle evilly.
Mwa. Ha. Ha.
Pleasures of life indeed
Diane had very little in the way of boundaries, practically the polar opposite of Shade (who is, I might add, 0-3 against this particular villianess).
They say opposites attract though, so...
-Tas