FINALLY! As promised, here's a treat for you guys (or girls, as I doubt there are any male Porcelain-readers out there!?).
This chapter is among my personal favourites. Also my longest chapter so far, I suppose. I go for 6-7 pages in my writing program, but this takes up 10 whole pages. Small victory, yay!
Anyway, enough of my meaningless chattering. On to le good stuff~
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Chapter 20: Dominance
"Sir...?"
Amon jerked his head in the direction of the voice. The Equalist caught his gaze and beckoned the leader to come closer.
"You got to see this," the man continued.
Leaving his own investigation of the room, Amon approached the vehicle that was under inspection. A brief look under the hood gave the situation away. Well, almost.
"It seems that it might actually have been an accident. I do not know a lot about cars, but I know that they are not supposed to look like this," the Equalist mumbled.
The two others snorted.
"And that does not look even remotely human-made to you?" one gleamed.
Sighing, Amon rubbed his temples once again. The headache was on it's way already, and it was going to be a tough one, making him long for the privacy of his personal chambers back at the headquarters even more.
"What about the other?" the leader asked, looking at the two who had supposedly checked it already.
"It seems to be fine, sir," came the reply. "But I suppose it would take some hours to fix the other one..."
A realization hit Amon so suddenly.
Someone did not want him to leave the building – or rather, someone did not want him to get back to the Avatar right away. This was a delay of some sort. The only thing that made him wonder was why only one vehicle had been sabotaged.
Maybe the person did not have time to "fix" the other one and simply had to leave his work unfinished? Perhaps the sudden fire had been an evasive maneuver, a chance for the culprit to escape before being caught?
Pain was throbbing behind his eyes, blood rushing past his ears.
God damn it, he growled inwardly.
One thing he was sure of: whoever was behind this was still in the building.
"Alright", he finally said, voicing his plan; "I need two of you to go alarm the Lieutenant right away. Tell him that there is an intruder somewhere in the building. We should not let anyone out before checking them thoroughly. Tell him to look for the Avatar's friends specifically."
The two nodded curtly and dashed toward the door leading back down to the ceremony area. The third turned to Amon with wide eyes.
"I need you to slide aside the door for me and close it again when I am out. Then tell the Lieutenant that I have left already," Amon ordered as he moved to the still functional Satomobile.
Nodding, the man ran to the big iron port making the only entrance and exit for vehicles, starting to push it open.
Amon slid into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut. He had to get back to the headquarters as fast as possible. This whole car "accident" was just a way to trap him here, to hold him away from the Avatar while the police force stormed the headquarters and rescued their dear Avatar – he was sure of it. Nothing else would make sense. This had to be it.
Feeling his body almost shiver with bubbling rage, he clutched the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white at the loss of proper blood circulation.
If the Avatar was gone when he returned... He dared not even think of how he would respond then. If someone had taken her away from him...
With so much speed that he could barely control the car properly, he left the building, wheels screeching in protest as he turned one corner after another.
-Thunk!-
Even though he was so swallowed up by rage, he caught that one sound. His eyes narrowed.
He did not have any luggage heavy enough to make such a sound.
Hammering down on the brakes, he forced the vehicle to stop immediately. He threw the door open and jumped out, and in that moment his fear was verified as he head a hiss from the back of the car:
"Fuck!"
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Barely did Mako have time to get out and prepare for the fight before he was ripped out by a furious Amon and thrown to the ground, a heavy boot placed on his throat.
"I knew it," the mask growled at him, and for the first time Mako felt so much fear that his face drained for blood.
How had the man had possibly managed to see through his plan? Mako had not been able to hear anything but mumbles and unclear voices, but he had made one hundred percent sure to not be visible from the outside. Or was it really him crashing against the car's side that had given him away? Had he been brought unseen to the headquarters if not?
So many thoughts swirled though his mind that moment, but most prominent was: Is he going to kill me?
Because the rage oozing from the man above him made him doubt if it was even possible for Amon to just hit him unconscious this time. And knowing him just a little bit, Mako knew for sure that this man possessed the ability to kill with a flick of a wrist.
Grabbing the foot pinning him to the pavement beneath, Mako tried to shift the weight enough for him to slip out, but Amon merely increased the pressure until Mako was unable to breathe.
"I need you to get the fuck out of my way," Amon growled and kept the pressure until Mako's face had turned red and hot instead of white. Then Amon withdrew his boot only to kick Mako in the ribs.
Growling in agony, Mako clutched his side, coughing to catch his breath. But he got no time to rest, for Amon took position, bent his knees, moved his arms in a slightly familiar moving pattern, and then Mako was... moved.
As he crashed back-first against a brick wall, Mako realized something horrible, something unforgivably terrorizing. Amon was bending.
Amon was a bender.
And not any type of bender – a Blood-bender, the most dangerous kind of all.
This explained so much, but also raised new questions.
Through the pain Mako opened his mouth to speak, but he was not given the time. Amon pulled him away from the wall only to smash him right back into it. The back of Mako's head took a mercilessly hard hit, and then everything turned black.
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Leaving the boy unconscious on the pavement, Amon jumped right back into the Satomobile.
Maybe it had been a mistake to reveal his true powers to the brat, but he did not have the time to deal with him. Not now when the Avatar's safety was at stake. Or, well, the lack thereof.
One minute could prove crucial in a case like this. If the police force arrived at the headquarters even one minute before he did, he would have lost it all. Lost her. And that thought was strangely unbearable to him.
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Korra awoke to the sound of rain patting against the window pane, a soft and usually refreshing sound, but Korra could not seem to enjoy it anymore. The sound just reminded her of freedom – something she did not have, and probably never would.
What I would not give to feel the rain again. To feel my feet sinking into the snow beneath me, or letting my hands brush over the green grass of the fields outside the city, she thought to herself, her heart feeling hollow. The imprisonment was draining her of all hope. She had not been her usual cheery self for what felt like forever. How long has she even been there by now?
And Naga. Dear spirits, I miss her so much. She has never been away from me this long, ever. I wonder if she will be okay? Korra felt the tears stinging, and she sniffled angrily. She could not cry – she just could not. She would not give him the satisfaction. It would mean that he had won.
But has he not already?
Ignoring the soreness of her body and the throbbing pain along her spine, Korra sat up in her bed. No, this was not her bed – it was Amon's, she realized with a slight pang of fear. But he was not here now. He would never know.
With a tired sigh, Korra let her palm glide over the silky linen, her fingertips caressing small circles on the fabric, her teal eyes wearily following her slow movements. Then she bent forward, resting her cheek on the silk for a moment, eyes closed. Through the fabric she could smell his discrete, musky scent, recognizing it more than she liked. Her heart gave an uninvited throb, and she sneered in disgust. What was she doing?
She had slept in his bed willingly.
Although Amon had not been involved this time, it was still an act of treason toward herself. Her sleeping in his bed proved an attachment to him which she should not be having at all. And amongst the guilt she felt filthy, so very filthy. She needed to wash herself.
In one swift move she got on to her feet, and this time she did not care how much her spine protested and hurt in the process – she probably deserved it anyway.
She went to the bathroom, ignoring her frowning face as she passed the mirror. Turning up the temperature, she turned on the shower and watched the water stream down in angry jets, steam rising from the wet tiles beneath.
Releasing the band holding her chocolate brown hair together, she stripped down to nothing. Then she entered she shower cabin.
The water was boiling hot against her skin, and it hurt, leaving her skin red in the process. But she did not care – for everything she had done, for everything she had let him do to her, she needed to be cleansed. Punished.
A sneer of agony crossed her face as the water collided with the wound on the back of her head, where it had met the stone wall with such force. It was a miracle that it had not earned her a concussion, really, but nothing about her situation felt like a miracle to her.
Closing her eyes, she replayed the previous evening. Their fight. How it went wrong.
She should have crushed Amon between the walls once and for all. Then she would have been free. But if he had not broken out by himself, had she been able to continue the attack? Could she kill him?
It was the horrible truth. She hated, despised, the man with every cell in her body, and yet... Yet what? What was it she was feeling?
She touched the back of her head, the wound stinging by her touch.
Pain. She was feeling pain. He was hurting her, physically and mentally. But there was more than just pain and hatred, something unnatural, something she should not be feeling. But what was it?
Sighing, she turned off the water. No matter how much soap she used or how boiling hot the water was, she could not wash off the feeling that she was filthy, befouled by a man whose strength was far above her own in every way, ruined by him and his touch. And there was no turning back. The way her body responded to the dirty memories told her that she was addicted already, and no matter how much she tried to fight it she could not resist him. He gave her something she never knew she had been missing – he made her feel whole.
And she hated him for it.
She wrapped herself in a towel from the rack on the wall, leaving wet footprints as she went. Then, after fastening the towel above her chest, she wrung her hair for water and continued back into the room.
The rain had increased in strength, and it sounded as if hail was knocking against the thick glass. It was hard to see it clearly from the distance. But it was quite unusual to see hail at this time of the year. It was still late summer, as far as she was knew. Winter could not possibly be around the corner already. She had not been imprisoned for that long, had she?
Suddenly she was ripped from her thoughts as the door swung open and crashed into the cupboard by the wall. She snapped her head in the direction, struck by a moment's insecurity. Amon never came crashing in like that.
But when she turned to face him, it was Amon standing in the doorway, panting heavily, eyes lightning with rage behind the mask. Until he saw her – then his eyes turned soft, but only for a split second.
Korra rarely opened conversations with her captor and guardian, but her dislike was replaced by a moment's curiosity.
"What is happening?" she asked, almost whispering, eyes wide.
Amon did not reply, neither did he move. His gaze was as glued to her, and only then she realized that she was practically naked, only a single layer of fabric protecting her. Then she remembered the pain, the humiliation, and the hatred.
Regretting that she had asked, she turned away from him and continued toward the dresser to find a clean pair of panties, heart beating uncomfortably hard in her chest.
Please let me be, she begged inwardly. Please do not let him come near me, not like this.
But like so many times before, her prayers were ignored.
Sternly keeping her face turned to the wooden dresser in front of her, she heard the door click shut and felt as the man neared her slowly.
Dear spirits, please do not let this happen. I might be weak and cowardly, but I do not deserve this.
Amon stopped behind her, still without saying a word. His still fast breathing tickled her through the mouth line, almost wheezing as his breath passed through.
Instead of running like she should have done, she stood still and closed her eyes, listening to him, feeling him. Goosebumps on her skin.
They stood like that for a moment, his breathing calming down for every passing second, until he suddenly placed his hands on the dresser on each side of her. But his movement was not rushed, did not seem threatening to her. It seemed as if he was hesitating, still calming down from whatever hype he had brought himself into before.
Then she felt the nose of his mask burying itself between her wet locks, almost as if he was resting against her. His breath tickled her ear.
"I thought you were gone," he mumbled, seemingly more to himself than to her.
Korra's eyes snapped open by his words. Why did they make her feel like this? As if a knot was being tied in her stomach. It was uncomfortable, and yet not.
His words should not have this effect on her.
He could not be showing relief like this. This felt so... personal. As if it was no longer a question of her role as a prisoner, but her role as his... his...
No, I cannot be doing this! Korra told herself.
But she did not move from where she stood.
Amon let a hand move to her shoulder, his touch feather-light and ticklish, and she felt another round of goosebumps covering her. Caressing her skin tenderly like she had caressed his silky linens before, he allowed his hand to travel over her body; her shoulder, neck, up her throat, cupping her cheek, brushing over her parted lips, down her neck, down along her spine...
"Don't-..!" Korra suddenly snapped, swinging her hand back over her shoulder to hit Amon in a vague attempt to stop him, but he snatched her wrist masterfully as if he had expected her to move so suddenly.
And he just held her arm in that position, ignoring her burst of reluctance, as his other hand slowly brushed down her back until it reached the edge of the towel. From there he let it travel along the edge to the front, to her chest, where he found the tie holding it all together.
Korra closed her eyes again, her breath bated unintentionally. She knew the feeling in her stomach – tension, excitement, fear. She had tried it before altogether.
But instead of loosening the towel from her body, Amon let a finger follow the rim down, his movements still slow and feather-light. The towel stopped just below her hips.
"Please don't-..." Korra tried again, but her plead was only half-hearted, a whisper.
But it was too late already. The hard bulge now pressed against the lower of her back proved it.
And so, Korra closed her eyes and bit down on her bottom lip as Amon's hand left the towel and touched her skin beneath. Teasing.
He found her entrance wet and welcoming, but not only from the shower. A smirk curled his lips. She was starting to learn some obedience, learning that her feral cravings were not to be denied.
Tracing his fingers softly over her sensitive skin, never fully entering, he teased her, goaded her. Perhaps he could even make her plea for more?
Korra felt a pang of disappointment as Amon's hand resumed its travel on her body, leaving her inner thighs. It brushed upward, circling around her navel in tender movements that almost made her go insane. Then it continued up again.
Letting go of her wrist, he then loosened the towel and let it fall to the floor. The tips of her still wet hair sent a few drops of water travelling down her back.
When his hands cupped her breasts, her body reacted immediately. The third round of goosebumps, now covering her entire body, made her nipples harden under his touch, and he loved it, brushing his thumbs over them in tender movements.
And it was then that Korra lost it.
She moaned.
It was only a deep-throated growl-like sound, but it was not to be mistaken – it was definitely caused by pleasure and arousal. It was the signal he had been waiting for.
He moved quickly now, withdrawing his hands at once, forcing her torso down onto the top of the dresser as he used one hand to almost rip his pants open and off.
His sudden actions made Korra gasp in surprise, and realization washed in over her. What were they doing? They could not be doing this – they should not be doing this.
"Let me go," she hissed and tried to wriggle out of his hold, but he was stronger. Like always.
He grabbed her hair with one hand and forced her face against the wall, scraping at her wound in the process, making it tear up again and bleed. But despite the blood running down his hand, Amon kept her fixed as he snaked the other hand into the drawer and pulled forth a small pack which Korra had failed to notice before.
Condoms. Protection. When did Amon get those? After or before he almost managed to make her pregnant?
Oh, she was angry now.
Holding the girl still and getting prepared at the same time was a challenge, but Amon managed to hold Korra in place, seeing as she was still weak from the previous evening. Not even when she started clawing at his hand did he lose the pressure on her.
"Let me go, I said," Korra repeated, now in a growl. "You cannot do this to me!"
Amon laughed mirthlessly.
"Oh, but you will see that I can."
Finally ready, he shifted and grabbed Korra by her hip, pressing the girl even further forward until her entire weight rested on top of the dresser and her feet almost left the floor.
Then he pushed into her, leaning so deeply into her that his chest pressed against her back.
Her reply was a mixture of a scream and a moan, and he absolutely loved it.
Feeling himself burst with impatience already, he started pumping into her relentlessly. She struggled against him, using her hands to try and push him away, but still he was strongest. His grip on her hair was unfaltering, even now as blood had travelled all the way down to his elbow and was dripping onto her back.
It did not take long before he felt climax nearing. So he leaned in over her once again, panting in her ear.
"I want you to beg for more. Can you do that for me?" His words were provocative and challenging, and Korra realized that it was once more a game of dominance. A twisted round of power-play with only one winner. And that was probably him. But that did not mean that she could not fight back while the game lasted.
"I will never beg you for anything," Korra breathed angrily back at him, her face still pressed against the wall, her cheek sore from the rough contact.
"Oh, I think you will," Amon sneered back and slammed into her harder, faster, again and again.
She hated admitting it, but his movements did have a great effect on her. It was clear to her that his movements were not meant for the sake of her pleasure, but still her body reacted to it, and suddenly it was hard not to mewl longingly at his every move. But she would not give him the pleasure of giving in.
Just before the ecstatic explosion Amon realized that this time he was not going to make her comply, and he decided that if he could not make her obey him, then at least he could punish her.
Withdrawing himself, he stepped back and pulled the girl along, and Korra crashed down onto the floor, landing on all four before him. He watched her with a taunting glint in his golden eyes as he peeled off the rubber and forced her face close to his throbbing manhood.
And at once Korra realized what was going on. She turned her face away with a sneer.
But Amon had already decided. She had no choice.
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," the man above her whispered intensely. "This is your punishment."
This was the ultimate gesture of compliance, of adoration and worship. A respect, fear, or awe that she simply did not feel for him. Or at least one that she was not going to show like this.
"No," Korra answered sternly. She was not going to please him like that.
She did not see the evil smile on Amon's lips as he used blood-bending to move her face closer. Her back hurt and stung from the force controlling her body, and she hissed in agony.
Amon's sore shoulder hurt as well, but it was just a sacrifice to reach a greater good. He held Korra in position, but the pain in his shoulder worsened for every bloody moment, and now it was a question of who could stand the pain for the longest time.
"Alright," Korra finally growled, hating the man above her more than she had ever hated anyone before. The power he held over her seemed inhuman at times.
Released, she grabbed him, parted her lips, and allowed him inside. Her tongue flickered over his sensitive skin, and he shuddered with pleasure.
But he was not going to let her do all the work.
Regaining hold of her head by grabbing her hair again, he forced her face back and forth, controlling the speed and depth. Her narrowed teal eyes watched him hatefully from down there, but that just added to the experience. Just look what he could make her do even when she hated him so much. If that was not power then he did not know what it was.
With a few sudden movements, he felt release washing over him, and he closed his eyes and savoured the moment that would never be repeated.
When he looked down again, he saw as she reluctantly swallowed his gift, still sending him a hateful stare.
What Amon had just forced her to do was unforgivable and humiliating to a whole new level, and now it was her turn to take the control, because she knew somewhere in the back of her mind that she had control over him. Even though he would never admit it.
Rising to feet, she faced him, her eyes piercing his – and before he could even boast of his victory, she had pushed him back toward the bed. The sudden movement made him trip over the edge, and so he plummeted back-first down onto the mattress.
"You might have won first round," Korra began as she made her way over to him, crawling over him and straddling him between her legs. "But if you think I have given up entirely then you are mistaken."
Giving him no time to protest, Korra settled herself on top of him and guided him inside in a slick move. He groaned as an electrified shiver ran through his body. Korra smirked.
Look at you now, she spoke to him in her mind. Look at how powerful you are, lying there shivering beneath me. You are pathetic.
Leaning in over him, enduring the pain which said movement brought her, she closed her eyes and slid the bottom of this mask aside. Instantly his hands reached up to stop whatever she was doing – with the lights still on it would take no more than one second to see too much – but she kept her eyes closed and crushed her lips against his. His hands fell away, allowing her to kiss him.
A flutter ran through her stomach, but she ignored it – what she was doing now had nothing to do with feelings, she told herself. She wanted him to taste what she had just tasted; humiliation. He thought that she had swallowed her pride along with his semen, but perhaps he had forgotten that there was still some fight left in this girl. Everything was not over yet.
And then, as their tongues slicked together sinfully, she started moving on him. His unworded reply was muffled by her lips, and for once she loved what they were doing, loved how little it took to turn the chessboard around and play the game differently. It had only taken her too long to realize.
Satisfied, Korra broke away from his lips, slid the mask back, and opened her eyes to look at him. His golden eyes were clouded with lust; half-lidded and intense. She rolled her hips roughly against his once, watching him closely as his eyes almost rolled back with pleasure. Another smirk sneaked onto her face. She had to admit that being in charge was a delicious feeling, and now she understood why it all was so damn important to him.
Sitting straight up again to regain more control over her movements, Korra sighed as she rode the man harder, drops of water and blood running down the skin of her back. She could hear Amon through his mask, the sharp intakes of air matching the movements of her hips. But he was not the only one enjoying it.
Korra was moving closer to the edge of pleasure herself. And now that she was in control, she could have it any way she wanted – so she moved in a way that felt amazing to her. Clawing at the man's thighs to steady herself while she rolled her hips again and again.
Amon reached up to cup her breasts. His palms were slightly colder than her own skin, she noticed, and watched as he let his thumbs flick over her sensitive buds. She moaned and jerked against his hips repeatedly, biting her bottom lip to suppress the upcoming sounds.
The man beneath her was once again close to climaxing, but she was even closer. Making the final moves to push herself over the edge, she swallowed her cry of ecstasy, digging her nails so deeply into his thighs that she broke through his skin.
Amon groaned again, but not in pain. He was so close now.
Korra sent him a victorious smirk – and then withdrew her entire body from him.
Amon's eyes widened.
"Oh no you don't..." he growled airlessly and reached out for her, but it was too late. Korra disappeared into the bathroom and returned immediately with a glass of icy cold water, which she poured over his crotch.
"Your trophy, sir," she drawled provocatively and watched him coldly as he cursed in frustration.
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I hope you guys liked it.
Love you all.
- MAL