Birds of Prey - Twisted Desire Ch. 04

Reston hummed a low, satisfied sound. He took a step forward, closing the distance between Dinah and himself. Dinah let out a small gasp as she felt his cock brush against her thighs once again. This wasn't the way this was supposed to go down. A teen boy couldn't put the Black Canary on the backfoot.

"I'd prefer if you were impressed." Reston said, taking another step closer. Dinah felt his length slip further between her thighs, hot skin stroking against hot skin. The blonde shuddered, inhaling through her nose. "Women usually are. Unless, of course, you're used to men like me."

"I've known plenty of men like you." Dinah sneered, forcing every ounce of venom she could muster into those words. She couldn't be the deer in the headlights, not now. She needed the fire her mother had, the spunk that allowed a five-foot-five pintsized blonde to play with the big boy capes. "Some couldn't walk after I was done with them."

From the glimmer that surfaced in Reston's eyes, Dinah knew that he had taken her threat to mean something else entirely. He smirked then, intrigued and eager.

"They sound like lucky guys."

Dinah huffed through her nose. She had built back enough of her nerve to get her mind back on track. Reston was doing some fucked up power play with her. She couldn't lose, not to some teenage punk with a god complex. If he was going to go extreme... then Dinah had to go even further!

"You got balls, kid. I'll give you that." Dinah admitted, pursing her lips. They were close enough now that the tip of her nose just barely brushed against the tip of his. "Big balls. Do you want to keep them?"

There was a moment where confusion danced through Reston's eyes and Dinah took the opportunity to quickly reach down and squeeze. I wasn't a hard squeeze or even a firm one, but it was definitely enough to get his attention. Dinah played her trump card. She had Matthew Reston's most prized possessions in the palm of her hand. And it felt good.

The beast was muzzled... for now. The open smugness that had plastered Reston's face was gone, replaced with a stony expression and... unreadable eyes. Dinah would have preferred more obvious fear and a stammering apology, but a woman can't really have it all. Even so, Dinah was going to leverage the hell out of her position. Even if she was essentially groping her student's balls.

"Aw, what's the matter?" Dinah cooed mockingly, giving a soft squeeze to send the point home. "What happened to all that confidence?"

"Nothing." He answered, his voice strained. Despite the turn-around in the situation, he managed a small quirk in the corner of his mouth. "Just got caught off-guard. This turns me on more than you think, Miss B. You know that, right?"

"I'm sure it does." Dinah spoke softly and with a false sweetness. But even the facade was enough to keep Reston going, his manhood throbbing just beyond her grip. "All that flirting during class... I think you do mean something by it, Matthew."

His scrotum was hot to the touch, agonizingly soft but for the two bulbs hidden behind fuzzy skin. She curled her fingers, rolling them some across her palm. Part of a treat she had given past lovers. Now, it was meant to keep the little shit Reston off balance.

Reston groaned, leaning down to rest his forehead against Dinah's. She could feel his hot breath on her lips and sent a shock through her nerves. She gasped then, a soft, small noise that Dinah couldn't believe came from herself. She could push him away. She should. So why didn't she?

"Feels good, Miss B..." Reston murmured, afterwards letting loose a deep breath. Hot on her skin, it sent Dinah's belly into flips. The blonde hummed at the sensation.

For a second, she was able to remember herself. She gave a firm squeeze, causing Reston to grunt.

"I can make it feel a whole lot worse." She warned him, prodding her fingernails into the skin so that he got the message. "Take off the ring, Mr. Reston."

The young man inhaled. He pulled his head back from Dinah's and met her eyes. She couldn't read him. He had the same glassy eyes that Helena had when Dinah and Barb had pressed her about her own ring.

"Can't do that, Miss B. Sorry."

"And why not?"

"Because I can't. Swore not to."

Dinah frowned. She uncoiled her fingers from the young man's stones... before snaking them around the base of his pillar. Slowly, slowly, the blonde began to stroke.

"Swore to who? Tell me where you got it, then." She pressed, her fingers doing their best to mirror her insistence. Their bodies were pressed nearly flush together now, with space only allowed for Dinah's arm to move between them and between his legs. She felt one of his arms snake around her waist, thick like a python coiling around its prey. His fingers brushed against the bare skin on the small of her back. She wondered if he'd dare to travel lower.

"The Brotherhood." Reston answered - grunted, more like. He was given her old intel. She needed to press further.

Dinah increased the lengths of her strokes, slowly drawing her hand up and down. An arduous task, considering Reston's sheer size.

"What's that?" Dinah cooed, planting a soft kiss against Reston's neck. Inwardly, she recoiled at showing affection towards someone as vile as Reston. But she and Barb badly needed more intel. She had to do this. For Helena.

"Fraternity. Social club. I joined when I was a sophomore."

"So what's with the ring? What does it do?" Dinah hummed, stroking faster. She felt one of his hands snake underneath the waistline of her hotpants - his thick, grubby fingers touching the flesh of her buttocks. She pressed herself into his body, burying her face into the crook of his neck, groaning. Groaning at what she was allowing this boy to do to her body. Groaning at what she was allowing herself to do to his body.

"It's ceremonial. Spiritual." Reston explained, kissing the side of Dinah's head. The arm he had around her waist curled tighter, bringing their bodies as close together as they could be. Dinah's heart was pounding, her blood boiling hot. But she was also listening. "Sons of the Brotherhood wear them to show pride, loyalty. Sister rings are made so our guys can give them to their special ladies."

"I've seen some teachers wearing them." Dinah pulled back from Reston's neck to match his gaze once again. His eyes weren't glassy like they were a moment ago. Now, the vexing confidence was back. And with it came something else. Something far more bestial. A hunger that Dinah knew far too well.

"Yeah," He admitted, smirking. "You're not the only teacher who couldn't help herself."

He smashed his lips against hers. It was quick, forceful, and sent Dinah's mind spinning into oblivion. Emotions came bursting forth: shock, fear, anger, joy... And the sensations that followed only served to feed the storm that had become of her conscience. For a brief moment, Dinah felt the bliss that she had known years before - the deliciousness that came with doing something wrong. She had almost forgotten: breaking the rules felt good.

She kissed him back with fervor, moaning into his mouth as she delighted in the feeling of his large, strong hand groping her bare bottom - her hotpants had been pulled down some to expose her buttocks. Half-naked and making out with a teen boy in the school locker room, the blonde was lost to passion. Dinah felt like she was in high school again, and the taste of his tongue...

His tongue...

Reston's tongue...

Oh, God!

Dinah shoved herself away, violently untangling herself from the beast's arms. Gasping for breath, her face flushed red with anger, embarrassment, lust... She frantically tugged her hotpants back up onto her hips. She stared, wide-eyed, at the... man across from her. The naked man, with the thick, throbbing cock swaying between his muscled legs. She tore her eyes away and forced herself to meet his eyes. He looked just as shocked as she was. But at that moment, Dinah Lance just didn't give a shit.

She belted his face with a resounding SLAP!

"You're a fucking animal." Dinah spat.

Reston softly rubbed his cheek using his fingertips, his face twisted into a grimace. He was silent for a moment, like he was giving time for her words to register. Then he huffed through his nose and gave a half-shrug.

"Yeah," He ceded that to her, nodding. He pressed his lips into a flat smile. "But I haven't gotten any complaints yet."

Dinah clenched her teeth and fumed. Her mind was still a flurry, a wild storm of thoughts, feelings, raw emotions. She couldn't think of a biting retort. She couldn't think much of anything, really. But she knew, deep in her heart, that there was nothing good that would come from staying in the room with Matthew Reston.

Sending him one final, withering glare, Dinah turned on her heel and walked away.

She got the intel she came for. Only time would tell if it was worth it.

- - -

Chapter Eight

Eager to Please

"I know you're upset. But losing your nerve isn't going to help us save Helena."

Barbara Gordon learned early on the value of patience. Dealing with Bruce and the other Bat Boys would have driven her mad otherwise. And as it turned out, keeping a level head did wonders for a young woman's career in superheroics. Barbara only wished that Dinah felt the same.

It wasn't that Dinah was over-emotional while on the job. The Black Canary was considered one of the greats for a reason. But this mission was a special case. One that was pushing limits the Birds of Prey hadn't even considered. And right now, Dinah Lance seemed to be balancing right on the edge. It was up to Barbara to nudge her friend back into a more stable element.

As it stood, Barbara could have been doing a better job.

"Don't tell me to calm down! You weren't there!" Dinah hissed, making a clear effort to keep from shouting. She paced back and forth, rubbing her temples. "Bastard had his hands all over me..."

The two had chosen to meet up behind one of the campus libraries. A secluded spot where they could exchange notes, compare intel. At least, that's what Barbara had expected. Dinah had been the one to call this emergency meeting, citing it as urgent. Barbara thought the blonde might have snagged some juicy info, but now it was clear the other woman had needed to vent.

Dinah was still wearing her... updated athletics garb. Hot pants, sports bra, and hoodie. An outfit that provided a tantalizing view. The effect had only been amplified because of the woman who adorned it.

Barbara understood then. The skimpy clothes, designed to lure in the likes of Matt Reston, had done their job wonderfully. Too wonderfully. Reston took the bait... And then he took some more. More than what Dinah was comfortable with.

Barbara sympathized, she truly did. But they still had a mission to complete.

"We both knew from the start that this wasn't going to be easy. Undercover jobs always push our boundaries."

"Yeah?" Dinah shot Barbara a quick but heated glare. She hugged her arms close to her body, closing the hoodie so that it wrapped around her torso. "Well, I'm not wearing this stupid outfit again. Got it?"

Barbara pressed her lips into a thin line, giving a short nod. The 'sexy gym teacher' getup exposed only a little more skin than Dinah's normal Black Canary outfit. The difference was in the context behind the attire. When Dinah wore the boots, the fishnets, and the corset, she was powerful, fierce, gorgeous. She was the blonde powerhouse, the bold Black Canary. But when Dinah was wearing tight hot pants and a tiny sports bra, she was raw meat baiting the big game. She was the blood in the water, meant to draw out the Great White.

It had always fascinated Barbara, the psychology behind clothes. But that was something to ponder for another time.

"Were you able to get any intel out of Reston?" Barbara forced back a wince. Her words might have come across as too cold, too indifferent. But every moment they spent fretting over getting groped or leered at, was another moment Helena spent under the Brotherhood's thrall.

Dinah stopped pacing and leaned against the brick wall of the library. For a moment, she was silent, staring into space. Then...

"...The rings might work exactly like you predicted a while back. Senders and receivers. From what Reston told me, rings are given to Brotherhood members and sister rings are made to be handed out to their lady friends." Dinah spoke, her voice flat and diminutive. She didn't meet Barbara's eyes, averse to any deeper contact.

"The rings establish a mental connection and the master rings assert the wearers' influence." Barbara pondered, frowning. "At least, that's what makes the most sense from what we know so far. Did you get any info on the Brotherhood itself?"

"Reston made it sound like a cult." Dinah shrugged, huffing through her nose. "He said the rings were 'spiritual', whatever the hell that means. Creep. I didn't stick around to learn more. Sorry."

"It was a difficult situation." Barbara conceded.

Dinah gave a curt nod, still refusing to look Barbara in the eyes. The redhead said nothing, allowing her friend a measure of deference. A respectful silence was all that she could do. Dinah had never been the type to appreciate pep talks.

"Yeah." The blonde said after a long, quiet moment. "Well, what about you? You learn anything?"

"There's some sort of ceremony going down this Saturday evening. Overheard a Brotherhood creep talking about it." Barbara left out the part where said Brotherhood creep was enjoying the company of not one, but two enthralled female teachers. Dinah didn't need that knowledge on top of being molested. "It sounded like a big deal."

At that, Dinah did meet Barbara's gaze. The redhead saw a familiar spark in the woman's eyes then, that indomitable spirit that the Black Canary was known for. Barbara felt the corner of her mouth quirk upwards. Inside, she felt relief. There was no way some teen sex fiend with grubby hands could snuff out the fire of Dinah Lance.

Dinah pushed off the brick wall, intent clear on her face. "Black Canary and Batgirl are definitely crashing that party. Right?"

"That's the ideal scenario, yes. But first we need confirmation that the rings do in fact function on a sender-receiver system. If they do, then disrupting their mental connection should be a piece of cake."

"And if they don't?"

"Then we might need to call in some back-up. Zatanna should be able to handle this mess if it turns out to be too complicated for us. She has far more field experience with arcane crimes than we do."

Dinah wrinkled her nose at the mention of the Mistress of Magic. Barbara noted an expression of distaste quickly passing across her friend's features. Did something happen between them?

"I'd rather we handle this ourselves, Barb. Helena's our girl."

Oh, Barbara pursed her lips. It's pride, then.

"It's never a good idea to turn away help." Barbara countered. "Especially if it turns out we're in over our heads."

"We're not." Dinah insisted, perhaps a bit too forcefully. "The Birds of Prey have taken down worse than horny teen boys. And you've handled mind control bullshit before. We should handle this on our own, Barb."

It was clear that Dinah had some strong feelings. Strong enough that Barbara knew pressing the matter would only lead into an argument. An undercover mission was absolutely the worst possible situation to have such disagreements. So, Barbara Gordon decided to play diplomat the best way she knew how: Change the subject and hope Dinah would cool off.

"In either case, we need to stay undercover. At least until we know for sure exactly what kind of magic we're dealing with."

"Patience." Dinah muttered the word like it was sour on her tongue. "I'm getting really tired of it, Barb."

"It's only until Saturday." Barbara maintained her cool attitude. She was the stable element. The leader of the team. Batgirl was the one who set the example. "And if our theory about how the rings work is correct, then we can crash that party harder than any party has ever been crashed. And you can put the screws to Matthew Reston. As many screws as you please."

As expected, the promise of violent retribution caused the tiniest of smirks to emerge on Dinah's lips. There was surely something for Barbara to explore regarding her colleague's veneration for brutality, but that was a discussion for another time.

"Oh, I love the sound of that." Dinah purred, all too pleased at the prospect of putting the hurt on the slimy bastard who took their Helena. "How are we getting into their little shindig?"

"We know when it's going to be, but not where. And we have only the slightest idea of who's going to be attending. We can't use trackers, too many things can go wrong. I think we'll be playing the infiltration game." Barbara concluded.

"Which means...?" Dinah pressed, leaning forward.

"We'll need to get our hands on a formal invitation."

- - -

Meanwhile, on the other side of campus...

To Matt's great delight, Miss Bertinelli was more than just punctual. She was early. It was all the more impressive when he remembered that her classroom was in a different building. The fact that he shot her a text less than ten minutes ago meant she had to have rushed over to meet with him. Matt had to admire a woman with that kind of dedication. He was flattered by it, truly.

But now wasn't the time for praise. Matt had a glaring issue that needed taking care of. One that was thick, throbbing, and just a couple inches shy of a foot. It was exactly the type of problem that he knew Miss Bertinelli loved to solve.

The young man's need was so great that he didn't even stop for the usual meet-up make-out with Helena. Instead, he slid his arm around her waist and quickly, forcefully ushered her into an empty classroom.

"Get your sweet ass in there," He growled, giving his woman a light shove towards the teacher's desk. She stumbled slightly on her heels, but quickly found her balance. But Matt was more focused on the way her hips and ass moved, swaying with each step while wrapped snug in a tight purple business skirt. Helena shot him a wide-eyed look over her shoulder, smiling wide and giggling like mad. Such a small thing was enough to drive a guy crazy.

"I ever tell you how much I love it when you order me around, mister?" Helena hummed giddily, planting her sweet rear-end atop that lucky, lucky desk. She leaned back, planting her hands behind her, displaying herself as Matt entered into the room after her.

"I've got a general idea." Matt's voice rumbled from deep in his chest. He locked the door behind him.

Then he was upon her, his lips meeting hers in a deep kiss. Her ferocity surprised him, the desperate hunger with which she accepted his looming body, his invading tongue, his roaming hands. Helena took as much as she was being taken, devouring his kisses like a starving tigress.

Matt needed more, his mouth moving to her neck. He felt her fingers running through his hair, softly pushing him downward. A silent demand from a needy, willing woman. It was the only kind of demand that Matt loved to oblige.

"Mmmm... Something's gotten into you..." He heard Helena's smokey voice sing as he tasted the bare skin of her neck, her collarbone.

"Too rough?" Matt questioned, his hands rising up Helena's flanks from her waist. He ran his tongue across her skin, pressing his face into the woman's neck. He took in her scent, her flavor, getting himself drunk on his woman's body.