"Apprentice"
by Metrion
by Metrion
By now, Terra was used to waking up on her warm cot, well-rested, warm, and sleepily comfortable. It was a wonderful feeling having a bed instead of sleeping on the ground or curled up in small pocket caves at night. Even more wonderful was the knowledge that she could get up in her small, albeit somewhat spartan quarters and slip into the adjacent small bathroom to shower, wash her sleep-tousled blonde hair, and then wait for a filling, healthy breakfast.
As much as she didn't like to admit it, life had gotten much better for her since she had given in to Slade and his offer to take her in and mentor her. As the days passed his training had made her physically stronger and her powers had started to become less erratic—his underground complex didn't shake quite as much, she could occasionally regain control of her powers after a few minutes of them trembling out of control. She still had a ways to go, but she knew she was already indebted to the man, criminal though he was, immensely.
The young girl sat up in bed, yawning lightly and stretching her thin arms to their full length. Glancing at her clock, she saw that she had only forty-five minutes to clean up and make herself presentable before meeting Slade for training at eight. She never liked getting up early, but Slade was someone who didn't like to be contradicted.
Tera slid out of bed, showered, then rubbed and combed her long hair dry. Flipping it a few times around her shoulder playfully, she then went to her closet and looked over the clothes that waited for her. All were black—Slade really seemed to like that color—and she selected a pair of shorts and a long sleeved shirt with a high neck. The clothing was very tight, good for practicing martial arts or undertaking whatever physical tasks her mentor might suggest during training. Terra played with the hem of her shirt—it halted around her navel, a very girlish shirt. She felt older wearing it but sometimes couldn't imagine why she even had the choice to wear the style to begin with. Shrugging it off, she reached for her boots and tugged them on.
Even if they pretty much all looked the same, it was fun wearing a different outfit each day of the week, rather than the same old shirt and weathered denim shorts over and over.
Doing a few more stretches, she checked the clock resting next to her sleeping cot. She had to hurry if she wanted to get to training on time. Slade requested her to meet with him in his office workroom, rather than the training room. It wasn't the first time he'd asked to her see him there, but he'd never done it for training. Terra wondered if this was going to center around meditation or books. She left her sleeping quarters and entered the dim corridor beyond, and made the long trek though the complex's twisted maze to her destination.
(TT TT TT)
Usually his desk was far more cluttered, but he had spent the last half hour straightening the scattered papers, putting aside the various rolled-up maps and documents he had been looking over the night before. When he was done everything was much more orderly on the surface of the heavy dark wooden surface, made all the more dark by the gloom that pervaded his private office and darkened the corners considerably. The only source of light was from a small desk lamp and the wall of view-screens that broadcast the footage of whatever spy cameras he sent out or whatever security cameras he hacked into. Sometimes he could sit at his desk for hours, staring at the glowing screens and whatever new or recorded footage they played for him, sometimes pausing or rewinding if he needed to review a specific detail.
Satisfied with the neat stacks of folders and papers and occasional book, Slade settled in his large chair, leaning back against it and placing his hands together, the fingers of his left hand lightly massaging the right. It was a slow, deliberate action, almost akin to a piano player getting his dexterous fingers ready for a performance.
Terra would be showing up soon, within the next few minutes if she was smart enough to be punctual. He'd called her here for morning training, but that had been...slightly misleading. Not that he cared—he had Terra all but in the palm of his hand, and to keep his protection she would do almost anything he asked, even without knowing what would happen to her for blindly following his orders. It had been rather easy, really, exerting his control that quickly. He wondered if she would ever realize just how much of a puppet he had turned her into.
There was the sound of knocking at his door. Slade perked out of his thoughts and the smallest of anticipatory smiles appeared behind his split-sided mask. “Enter,” he said coolly.
The door slid open, revealing Terra's small form in the threshold. Slade's single eye fell on her, and he noted that she looked slightly nervous—she always was a little wary stepping into his dark domain.
As she should be, he thought.
Standing, Slade indicated for his young apprentice to enter. “Come in, Terra. I don't bite.”
There was the light sound of footsteps as Terra slowly walked through the threshold, the door closing behind her and sealing her in. She approached his desk and stood with her arms at her sides.
“Good morning, Terra,” Slade said, titling his head slightly as he stared down at the girl. Slade stood an impressive 6'2 to her 5'2, and easily weighed almost three times as much as the frail, formerly-homeless girl. But today, in the darkness of his office she seemed even smaller.
“Good morning,” Terra returned. Her large blue eyes were gazing up at him expectantly, waiting for him to tell her what he wanted her to do today.
Well, he would be happy to oblige. He knew that it was dangerous when the girl's geo-kinetic powers were still unstable, but he simply couldn't go any longer without seeing how easy it would be to...
Slade motioned with his hand to his desk. “Sit down, my dear.”
Terra looked at the desk, and her face clouded over in confusion. She looked back up at him. “What?” she asked.
“Sit down,” he told her again, his voice guiding and gentle.
She looked even more confused. “...where?” Terra asked. “You don't have a chair--”
“I know." Slade's voice was a little firmer now, slightly more commanding. "Sit on the desk for me, Terra.”
It was endearing how her eyes bugged out slightly, and she looked at him with incomprehension. Slade inclined his head, and his hard expression was conveyed with perfect clarity despite the fact that she couldn't see his face: Sit. Now.
Self-consciously, the girl crawled onto the desk, her limbs shaking slightly, and she nestled down into a cross-legged position. She lowered her head, as if embarrassed by this absurd request, and her blonde hair fell over one side of her face, making her look both meek and rather familiar when she averted her one visible eye up toward him...
“Good girl,” Slade told her, pleased at her obedience. He moved closer to her, his smile returning. “Now don't move, apprentice.”
Terra started to do just that, leaning back as his strong hands reached for her. He grabbed her by both shoulders, steadying her, and then let his hands slide down her arms and re-position themselves between them and her bare sides. He dug in and began to move his fingers against her flesh. Terra let out a small choke, first in surprise, and then in response to the sensation of his fingertips clawing against her pale skin.
Terra gasped and tried to escape his hold, twisting in obvious discomfort. “S-Slade...” she managed to get out. “What're you...ah!” He tickled her a little harder, his hands moving up to the sides of her ribs. Terra let out a small squeak and tried to push his hands away.
Oh, no such luck I'm afraid, Terra, he thought, and intensified the application of his touch. Terra half-laughed, half cried out in protest, looking visibly distressed as he forced her to lay down on the desk and moved his hands along her struggling body.
“S-stop it!” she said, her eyes closed and her head jerking. “No! Slade—”
“Shhhh," he told her. “Just be quiet, apprentice.” And he went to work, his fingers gliding over her ribs, tantalizing over her small, flat belly and torturing just above her shorts. Terra writhed against the desk's surface, kicking wildly with her booted feet and knocking over a sheaf of papers and the book beneath them, Slade didn't care—a little disorder made it more exciting.
The girl laughed softly and protestingly, her gloved hands gripping his own and trying to peel them away from herself. It didn't work—Slade barely had to adjust to her counter-attack, and continued on her belly expertly, his fingers gliding over the flesh and digging into the places just above her girlish hips. He would have preferred a more rounded look, a nice niche between her sides and her hips, but Terra's figure wasn't one of those curvier frames. Oh well—variety was the spice of life.
“No!” she laughed pleadingly. “Please....what—no-oo....stopitstopit—” her struggling increased, and Slade exerted a little more force over her, pinning her tightly as her hips jerked back and forth and her legs thrashed. As he tickled the area further she deteriorated into small, helpless laughter, unable to speak anymore as the strange torture continued. Her hips were twitching beneath his touch, jerking back and forth, trying to escape him.
“That's it,” he told her. “You just struggle all you want...it's alright...”
Terra tried scrunching up to get away, laughing her small laugh and occasionally letting out a distressed cry or moan as her attempts to escape were easily thwarted.
“P...please!” she managed to get out. “I don't—”
“I thought I told you to shush—” Terra yelped as he left her sensitive hips and dug into her underarms. She let out several more shrill yells—that pleased him and he continued his attentions there. Terra was trying to bring her arms down to protect herself and alternately trying to push those strong, brutal hands away. Slade relented for a moment, but only to grasp her thin wrists and stretch her arms over her head, pining them down on the desk and exposing her helpless body nicely for him. Terra cried out in distress as she realize she couldn't pull away, writhing in his grasp, and she made a sound almost like a sob. Slade used his free hand to stroke down her arm to the shallow underarm waiting for him, and began to tease the area, making her jerk back and forth with shrill gasps.
The poor girl must have been so confused, but Slade wasn't about to stop. He dug in sharply, tickling beneath her arm despite her cries. When he was finished with it he moved onto the next one, eliciting a soft wail from the girl. “Sto-op...”
“No,” he said simply. “Sit up.”
“Wh-what?” she asked weakly as he released his iron grasp on her.
“Sit up,” he repeated authoritatively.
Trembling the girl sat up, and Slade grasped hold of one leg. Terra began to fight again, kicking him squarely in the chest. Slade's hard, muscular chest barely felt the kick; he chuckled softly at her feeble attempt to defend herself. “Very nice, my dear,” he said, gripping her just beneath the knee and pulling her toward him. He sat down in his chair and continued his assault. “Not good enough, of course...”
Within another minute the poor girl was nothing but a collapsed pile on the desk, and his fingers skirted where they pleased without interruption. All she could do was shift and writhe, laughing and moaning to herself as her eyes teared up slightly.
Another five minutes of mercilessly tickling the girl, and Slade felt satisfied. He sat back, releasing his whimpering apprentice, and watched her raise her head slightly, turning away from him and moving against the desk as she tried to recuperate herself. Her hair was tousled from the struggling. Her eyes were a moist and her breathing was shallow. Her body was completely limp and quivering slightly, and her face was flushed pink.
Slade regarded his handiwork for a few moments, then stood up, stroking the girl's blonde hair, as if praising a favorite pet. Then he drew his hand away and left his desk.
“You may go,” he said. “And next time be more prepared for your next training session.”
--END--
