#004 - At Her Altar (DCU, Barbara/Dinah, NC-17)
Title: At Her Altar
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Barbara/Dinah
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 472
Warnings: BDSM, strap-on/toys
Challenge: #004 Dominance
Dinah’s not very good at taking this kind of thing seriously. It’s not that she doesn’t want to be here because, oh, she does.
But there’s still this part of her that wants to grin and bury her face in her hands, or make sarcastic comments.
Nervousness, embarrassment, she’s not sure what it is, but it leaves her lips twitching, leaves her on the edge of bursting out laughing.
Barbara, however, does take this kind of thing seriously.
“You can turn around now.”
Dinah nods, weird twisted giggle caught in her chest, even if there’s nothing about the low, sultry tone of Barbara’s voice that she finds remotely funny.
Her first instinct is to stand, but Barbara didn’t actually tell her she could do that yet, and following her orders exactly is supposed to be a big part of this. So Dinah shuffles awkwardly on her knees, turning on the spot, and she knows she probably looks ridiculous and that’s just making her barely-contained hysteria even worse.
And then her gaze settles on Barbara and all the laughter, all the nervousness and embarrassment and whatever else, it just dies in her throat.
Barbara’s naked, reclining on the huge leather chair she’d made Dinah drag across the room earlier that morning. Red hair vivid against the deep green upholstery, creamy pale skin practically glowing in the low lighting.
Slashes of darkness across her hips that Dinah realises are part of a harness.
A harness that is holding a jet-black strap-on dildo, thick and jutting up to the soft curve of Barbara’s belly.
Dinah swallows thickly and just lets herself stare.
“When did you - Where -” she stammers and Barbara’s eyes narrow meaningfully.
Dinah bites her lip, nods again, and drops her gaze to the floor. “Sorry,” she mutters, then winces.
She’s not supposed to speak without permission. That’s another big part of this.
“You’re forgiven,” Barbara tells her, and her voice is understanding but not soft. When Dinah glances up, Barbara’s idly stroking her fingers along the shaft, and Dinah shivers, lips parted and eyes huge.
“You will do as I say?”
Dinah isn’t sure if that counts as permission to speak, and she feels young and inexperienced in a way she hasn’t in years. It makes her heart race in her chest, her palms sweaty. “Yes,” she answers quietly.
“Then you will straddle me and take all of this,” Barbara tells her, pale hand gripping the dildo. “I want to see you fuck yourself for me, I want to see you move.”
Dinah’s been throbbing and aching and wet since Barbara told her to get on her knees, but the spike of lust that jolts through her steals her breath.
She stares up at Barbara, mouth dry and body already trembling, her answer falling from her lips on instinct.
“Yes, Oracle.”
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Barbara/Dinah
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 472
Warnings: BDSM, strap-on/toys
Challenge: #004 Dominance
Dinah’s not very good at taking this kind of thing seriously. It’s not that she doesn’t want to be here because, oh, she does.
But there’s still this part of her that wants to grin and bury her face in her hands, or make sarcastic comments.
Nervousness, embarrassment, she’s not sure what it is, but it leaves her lips twitching, leaves her on the edge of bursting out laughing.
Barbara, however, does take this kind of thing seriously.
“You can turn around now.”
Dinah nods, weird twisted giggle caught in her chest, even if there’s nothing about the low, sultry tone of Barbara’s voice that she finds remotely funny.
Her first instinct is to stand, but Barbara didn’t actually tell her she could do that yet, and following her orders exactly is supposed to be a big part of this. So Dinah shuffles awkwardly on her knees, turning on the spot, and she knows she probably looks ridiculous and that’s just making her barely-contained hysteria even worse.
And then her gaze settles on Barbara and all the laughter, all the nervousness and embarrassment and whatever else, it just dies in her throat.
Barbara’s naked, reclining on the huge leather chair she’d made Dinah drag across the room earlier that morning. Red hair vivid against the deep green upholstery, creamy pale skin practically glowing in the low lighting.
Slashes of darkness across her hips that Dinah realises are part of a harness.
A harness that is holding a jet-black strap-on dildo, thick and jutting up to the soft curve of Barbara’s belly.
Dinah swallows thickly and just lets herself stare.
“When did you - Where -” she stammers and Barbara’s eyes narrow meaningfully.
Dinah bites her lip, nods again, and drops her gaze to the floor. “Sorry,” she mutters, then winces.
She’s not supposed to speak without permission. That’s another big part of this.
“You’re forgiven,” Barbara tells her, and her voice is understanding but not soft. When Dinah glances up, Barbara’s idly stroking her fingers along the shaft, and Dinah shivers, lips parted and eyes huge.
“You will do as I say?”
Dinah isn’t sure if that counts as permission to speak, and she feels young and inexperienced in a way she hasn’t in years. It makes her heart race in her chest, her palms sweaty. “Yes,” she answers quietly.
“Then you will straddle me and take all of this,” Barbara tells her, pale hand gripping the dildo. “I want to see you fuck yourself for me, I want to see you move.”
Dinah’s been throbbing and aching and wet since Barbara told her to get on her knees, but the spike of lust that jolts through her steals her breath.
She stares up at Barbara, mouth dry and body already trembling, her answer falling from her lips on instinct.
“Yes, Oracle.”