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Everybody Wants Zinda update
🕑 Added 2018-04-06 15:48:13 +0000 UTCShiva mounted Dinah, straddling her chest with knees in her armpits, holding the slender blonde down with her weight. Dinah tried to move her arms, but the pressure on her biceps deadened the nerves. She couldn’t move as Shiva splayed herself in front of her face, the scent and slickness of her arousal evident, spiking into Dinah’s senses.
Shiva enjoyed watching the discomfort, and the interest, bloom on Dinah’s face. Now that it had occurred to her to battle Dinah in this way, to dominate her in this field when she was so frustratingly willful in others, the thought had grown to the point of obsession. She wanted to arouse Dinah, she wanted her to beg for it, she wanted Dinah. She might have beaten Dinah, but she hadn’t broken her—and this would shatter her into a million pieces.
What would unsteady Dinah the most, Shiva decided, was simply hearing the truth. Dinah had a vivid imagination—her fighting rarely safe or conventional—and picturing what had happened would get to her where Shiva’s nude body couldn’t. Just from reading Dinah’s body language, she could guess that Dinah would express horror outwardly, while secretly loving it. She’d end up wildly, deliciously excited.
Because it wasn’t just dirty talk. It was vulgar details about her most taboo attraction, the surrogate son she was so protective of. Shiva, with her vast experience and animal cunning, knew that Dinah wasn’t the stalwart crusader she seemed on the surface. Her sweet, wholesome beauty might fool many, but beneath the blonde bombshell, she knew the joys of conquest. She was afraid to show it, yes, but she had been on both sides of the transaction and knew how every little facet tickled her. Shiva could smell her repressed passion like buried treasure, and her own straining body was the map.
Shiva reached down and caressed Dinah’s hair, seeing the jolt ripple through Dinah’s body at the touch, the shock of being in contact with Shiva, then the surprise that the touch was so gentle, so inviting. And, while Dinah was still off-balance from having this goddess of death petting her hair, Shiva began to tell her what it was like to have sex with Roy Harper, the boy she’d raised, the man she lusted for.
She described in cuttingly vulgar terms the feel of Roy’s huge, plowing manhood in her mouth. In her pussy, driving lustfully into her depths. Finally, gorging her thrilled asshole. At first, Dinah stiffened with shock, and she tried to break free from Shiva’s smothering grip on her. Then, as Shiva expected, beads of sweat dotted Dinah’s face. Underneath Shiva’s thighs, Dinah’s breasts heaved powerfully. Very softly, Dinah began squirming her ass on the floor as Shiva described how the young man she must never, ever think of in sexual terms—had ravaged her ass until it was left gaping in satisfaction.
Her voice seethed and slithered into Dinah’s brain, until it was almost as if the blonde was reliving her own depraved orgy with Roy, her blood singing and her skin tingling and her clit throbbing. Every obscene word landed deep inside her as one of Shiva’s hands moved down to her bare leg, stroking the velvety flesh before creeping upward beneath Dinah’s skirt to her inner thigh. Dinah pretended not to notice.
Now Shiva’s husky voice revealed that Roy had fucked her again afterward, even better this time, truly dominating her with the pleasure she had felt and his masterful control of her body. It had felt so good that she’d willingly submitted to him. Dinah was stunned—too stunned to consider that Shiva was lying to her. All she could feel was jealousy… and tremendous excitement.
And, as Dinah listened in awe to Shiva’s vulgarly accurate description of Roy naked, how his cum had tasted, how it had felt inside her holes, Dinah thought it had to be true. And before Shiva was finished with her whispers, Dinah’s panties were soaked through.
Shiva pictured Roy in her thoughts now, thinking of him so forcefully that she was sure Dinah could pick up on the psychic vibrations. She reached down to her sex, still simmering from how Roy had invaded it. She felt her body yielding to an onslaught of lust.
She saw Roy’s fiery eyes as he stared at her, felt the explosive force of his muscles as he strained against her, relived once more the sensation of being entered like him, her juices running out of her, coating him, even as they coated her fingers now.
And Dinah saw it, a very different sort of weapon, ringing in Shiva’s thoughts just as it was ringing in hers. She’d known all along that she would eventually have to get it into her, that it was meant for her, would open her body fully and make her penetration total. It had filled her dreams. It filled her fantasies as well as Shiva’s, but her sex was left frustratingly empty as two, then three of Shiva’s fingers began to work inside her own aroused pussy.
Shiva flared her fingers inside herself, spreading the lips of her sex, feeling her fingertips pressing into her folds, wringing more and more cream from her sensitive flesh with every dive her fingers took.
Shiva’s body shivered and Dinah felt it run through her. Was this how it had felt to have Roy’s cock inside her? How different could it be from the fingers Shiva was pleasuring herself with now? How much more painful, and more satisfying?
Dinah had seen it, as Roy got out of the shower, or she undressed him to tend a wound. She’d looked longingly at it, even reached for it once… and over and over, Shiva’s fingers pressed deeply into her sopping cunt, then slid up to her clitoris, aching for attention, circling it, rubbing it, then back down into her yearning sex.
Dinah could see the pleasure on Shiva’s face, but she knew that it didn’t equal one second of what she’d felt with Roy, with his cock spreading her open.
As Shiva pressed herself on and on towards climax, Dinah began to see it playing before her mind’s eyes, the two of them, saw her legs spread wide, making the wet red target of her womanhood an easy one for him as he got closer, closer, so close he was inside…!
Shiva cried out in the first of many violent, orgasmic spasms. She doubled up over Dinah’s face, every muscle quivering after her release from the delicious tension.
But she was scarcely satisfied.
She’d only started to descend into the bottomless pit of her desire. For as much as she dreamed of continuing what she’d started with Dinah’s found family, Dinah herself intruded more and more as she reached new and higher levels of need. Shiva drove herself to another orgasm. She looked down at Dinah’s beautiful, lustful face like it was fresh fruit waiting to be plucked. Harder now, deeper into her dripping cunt, spreading her lips, going in and out.
With her other hand, Shiva rubbed at her nipples, pressing the flat of her palm hard into the buzzing buttons, harder, harder, HARDER. Dinah was watching her. Dinah wanted her.
Her climax hit her violently. All her muscles went tighttighttight, her face contorted with agonized lush, her breathing was choked off. Her ecstasy fled from her in gouts of honey from her sex, splashing over Dinah’s face and darkening her golden hair. Again and again, Shiva jabbed her extended fingers into her cunt, drawing every tingle of sensation from it, forcing one jet of ejaculate after another. With each one, she wanted more. And she knew exactly how to get it.
“Eat me!” she told Dinah. “Devour me! You know you fucking want to!”
***
Outside, Helena and Zinda approached, game faces on, weapons in hand.
“Ya thought about how ya want to do this?” Zinda asked, knowing full well that with Lady Shiva, even her pair of Colt .45s weren’t a guarantee.
Helena, for a moment, looked dubiously at her own crossbow before nodding firmly. “Hard and fast. If we die, might as well die the way we lived,” she grinned.
“Guns blazin’,” Zinda nodded.
They took up position flanking the door, weapons held aloft, then broke it down. They went through firing.
It was possible they saw a naked Shiva perched on top of Dinah, holding her down so easily it was almost like Dinah wanted to be under her. But she moved so fast it was an academic point.
Helena fired first, figuring that with crossbow bolts so rarely lethal, it didn’t really matter if she hit Dinah, so long as she hit Shiva too. But despite having a vague bead on Shiva before taking the shot, it was like the world rearranged itself, moving Shiva from a distant target to right in front of her, yet with the bolt she’d just fired in her hand, the hand chopping through the air, the hit landing on Helena’s shoulder and driving the arrowhead deep into her back.
Zinda held back slightly, waiting until she was sure Dinah wasn’t in the line of fire. That hesitation cost her Helena’s shrill scream as she went down. Zinda threw herself to the left, firing as she arced through the air, her shots aimed squarely at Shiva’s head. Her fire drove the assassin to duck, but then Shiva whirled Helena between the two of them and Zinda had to check her fire. Shiva smirked like she’d just caught Zinda in a losing game of Chess, then she cradled Helena’s head in her hands, looking like she could rip it clean off of her neck.
Dinah plowed into her, knocking Helena aside as the two martial artists grappled, trying to either inflict enough damage to make a difference or clear enough distance to throw some punches. The objective shifted from second to second for each of them, and they spun like a hurricane, trying to close the other in a hold or trying to separate from the vortex. The whirlwind carried them both into the wall with bone-jarring force, cracking plaster like a pair of comets hitting the earth. Then, instantly, they were trading blows, punches and kicks meeting blocks and parries so quickly it was like they were synchronized.
But Dinah still hadn’t recovered from her first loss. A palm strike broke through her defenses, slamming her head back on her neck, and as her face was craned upward, Shiva threw herself into a roundhouse kick that launched Dinah across the room. She came down still rolling across the floor.
Zinda aimed her twin guns at Shiva with absolutely no idea what to do with them. Shiva regarded her like a snake being brought a mouse.
“Go on,” she said. “Fire. Make this interesting.”
Zinda lowered the pistols. “I can’t beat you. I ain’t even a superhero like them two.”
Shiva cocked her head to the side. “And you think cowardice will grant you your life over lack of skill?”
“Take me,” Zinda said. “Leave the others. You need some hero for your spell to work, I heard all about it over the earpiece. Well, I’ve served with a whole host of heroes in my day. Some of it’s had to rub off.”
Shiva looked her up and down. “You would do this, knowing you will likely die?”
“I’ve been likely to die since the forties. Be real interestin’ if you turned out not to be all hat.”
Shiva cocked her head the other way. “Very well. Abandon your weapons. Come with me. Disobey me at any point and I will practice my chi strikes on each of your bones in turn.”
Good Lord, does that Dinah ever have a type, Zinda thought as she obediently set her guns down on the floor.
***
Hours later, the Birds were bandaged up and mostly recovered, with Roy having awoken and shaken off everything by splashing water in his face. Regrouping in the Clocktower, it was no great surprise that Shiva had not only evaded Barbara’s fleet of facial recognition software, but deactivated all of Zinda’s trackers. As far as modern society was concerned, the two had vanished off the face of the planet.
“So what do we do?” Dinah asked, staring at the digital whiteboard where Barbara had written all they knew of Shiva’s activities. It wasn’t much, but it’d been ready before they even arrived at the HQ.
“There’s a good chance Zinda will find a way to contact us,” Barbara said. “We need to be ready to scramble the moment we get word from her.”
“That’s it?” Roy demanded. “You can’t seriously expect us to sit around and hope we get lucky.”
Barbara’s eyes flicked to him, unused to being challenged and unwelcome to the idea. “You’re certainly free to go home.”
“No way. Shiva came after me, she was in my house. I’m in this until it’s over.” He glanced at Dinah. “Connor’s not that bad a babysitter.”
“I’m with him,” Helena said. “Let’s at least start knocking down doors.”
“No, Shiva’s not like that,” Dinah said. “There’s no contacts we can press, no informants, no friends. She’s a phantom.”
“There must be something,” Roy insisted. “What about this monk?”
“Monk?” Helena asked.
Roy clapped his hands, sure he was onto something now. “Shiva said she was doing all this because some monk said it was the only way he would fight her. She has to use Zinda to carry out some ritual. Well, let’s find this monk, or his friends, or his Facebook—there must be something about what all this is.”
“But then you have the same problem we just had a moment ago,” Barbara said. “To find this monk, we have to track Shiva. We don’t know where she is or where she’s going, so how can we know where she’s been?”
“Babs,” Dinah insisted, arms crossed. She had the feeling Barbara’s reluctance had a lot more to do with Roy intruding on her safe space than the idea being unfeasible. “It’s worth a shot, at least.”
Barbara sighed. “I’ll see what I can do. But don’t expect miracles. For all we know, Shiva salted the earth behind her, just to cover her tracks.”
***
After that, there really was nothing left to do but wait. Helena had the bright idea of getting drunk to nurse her wounds, while of course Barbara was no fit company while she did a deep dive into the world’s computers, leaving Dinah and Roy pretty much alone inside her superhero sorority house.
She was aware that he was staring at her openly. Thinking it was because of what she and Shiva had done—or almost done—or thought about doing—Dinah found it interesting for Roy to stare at her.
Not at her, really, but at her breasts. She was puzzled because Roy had never shown an interest in her before. But he was making up for lost time.
Despite all she had experienced with Shiva—satisfying and frustrating in equal measure—Dinah found herself reacting to how Roy was looking at her. Her nipples swelled and strained against her bra, while her pussy dampened her panties once more.
Her arousal was surprising, but also not. It made sense for a girl to respond to a handsome man looking at her. And even to look back, to glance at Roy’s groin. She looked away from his cock pressing against his pants, feeling ashamed of herself. But she also shivered in a hot, anticipatory thrill.
“I don’t think anything more is going to happen tonight,” Dinah said abruptly, standing up. “We should probably go to bed.”
“Should we?” Roy asked her.
A faint flush covered Dinah’s face. “I mean, you can if you want to. We have plenty of guest rooms. Just pick one.” Then, unnecessarily, but with an almost musical lilt to her voice, she said “Mine’s down the hall.”
Then she started for it, intending only to go inside, strip down, and fall into bed.
Roy watched Dinah moving down the hall, eyes following her ass. Her skirt was tight enough to outline her ass very well, and that outline excited him. He supposed he was feeling the same thing she was feeling. There was nothing like a brush with death to make you feel alive. And what could be more alive than this?
“What was all that about?”
Roy turned his head. Helena was standing there, her abbreviated costume showing the bandages wrapped around her shoulder and upper arm. The white bandages were like lace against her luxuriously olive skin. Looking at her, and that abbreviated costume, Roy automatically found himself comparing her to Dinah. For all her voluptuousness, the blonde was slender compared to Helena’s wide hips and extravagant breasts, their lushly supple roundness shown off incredibly by her costume, which was as skintight as it was skimpy.
“What?” Roy asked cleverly.
Helena jerked her head after Dinah. “You two. You hitting that?”
“What? No, no—she’s… Dinah.”
“Uh-huh. Could’ve sworn you two were fucking. Well, if that’s not on the table, how about a nightcap?”
“Sure,” Roy said, just grateful for a change in subject. “Why not?”
He followed her to her room, which evidently she didn’t live in, just stayed in when she couldn’t go to Helena Bertinelli’s place for whatever reason. It was spartan, almost entirely undecorated, but Babs had furnished it comfortably enough to be charming in its lack of personality, like a swank hotel.
“Sit down,” Helena told him. “Take a load off. Can’t imagine you’re feeling bright-eyed and bushy-tailed after going nine rounds with Lady Shiva.”
If Roy had been drinking something, he would’ve choked on. He sat down numbly. So… how much did Helena know? When he’d come to, it was all over, and he knew Dinah at least had recorded everything she could for Barbara to sift through. Did Dinah know? If she did, he was pretty sure she would cover for him, but if she thought it could help save Zinda…
“Hey, relax,” Helena said. God, does that guy ever need to release some tension. “It’s not a fucking Olympic routine. I’m going to go slip into something more comfortable.”
Roy nodded, so lost in thought he might not have even heard her.
In her bedroom, Helena slipped out of her costume. She stood before her mirror with nothing on except a lacy pair of panties, wondering what Roy would do if she went back into the living room wearing this.
She grinned at the thought, then searched through her closet for a robe. In his current state, her panties would probably make him faint. And then he’d be no good to her at all.
She ended up in a sheer caftan, so light that the wrinkles in its fabric were the only real indication that she was wearing anything at all. Then, leaving a small lamp on in the bedroom, she opened the door to the living room. The light behind her shone right through her caftan, making every lush curve visible to Roy. “Are you comfortable?” she asked him.
Roy looked up at her. His breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t able to answer as his eyes followed every line of Helena’s magnificent, exposed figure. After a long moment of trying to believe that he was really seeing what he was seeing, he nodded his head and cleared his throat.
“You look a lot more… comfortable,” he managed to say.
Helena laughed huskily. She walked slowly across the room, her body jiggling deliciously inside her flowing robe, and sat down beside him. She squirmed to get comfortable, aware of Roy’s eyes on every inch of her body.
Roy could smell the sweetness of her perfume, though it was so hard for him to think with her sitting so close to him that it was as if her scent was the only thing he could think about. Her body was so warm that he could feel the heat of it without even touching her.
“Shall I mix us a drink?” Helena simmered. “You look like you could use one. You’re very tense…”
“Yes, I mean, no.” Roy shook his head to clarify. “I, uh, used to do drugs, so now I try to stay away from that sort of thing.”
“Then I suppose you wouldn’t like to burn any incense either?” Helena suggested leadingly.
“No,” Roy said heavily, feeling like he was shooting himself in the foot here—but if it meant staying clean, he’d even turn down the most hot-to-trot female he could ask for.
“You don’t drink, you don’t smoke,” Helena reeled off. “What should we do to pass the time?”
Then she drew her robe open, exposing her breasts in all their splendor. Two perfect, rolling hills, just pendulous enough to be real, just pert enough to be a dream. Roy almost bit off his tongue in excitement. He couldn’t believe Helena was being so forward.
“Helena,” he gasped, “are you sure you’re not just doing this because Zinda’s in trouble? Because I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you in your time of—“
“Roy,” Helena interrupted, “Zinda’s a bigger slut than I am. If she were here, she’d probably be asking why you hadn’t groped me yet. Or joining in.”
Aroused beyond belief, Roy reached out with both hands to grab giant fistfuls of her smooth, hot flesh. Helena threw her head back as he squeezed and massaged her breasts right through her thin robe.
“God,” Roy breathed, “your breasts are fantastic.”
“Your hands aren’t bad either,” Helena said, her sex twitching lustfully as he plucked at her nipples. “Wait, let me take this off. I want to feel you on my skin.”
She stood up and pulled the caftan away from her body, letting it fall to the floor. Her breasts quivered as if overflowing with life, the nipples hard and long, jabbing out into the air. She saw his eyes move over her naked body, even raking from the top of her pubic landing strip to the bottom.
“Why don’t you take off those clothes?” she suggested. “I don’t think you’re going to be needing them… not until tomorrow morning. Or afternoon.”
***
“So what I’m thinking is this,” Barbara continued. “Shiva’s been known to ally with Ra’s al Ghul and the League of Assassins, so they may have some way of contacting her. And if they can contact her, we can track her. All we have to do is… you know… infiltrate the League of Assassins.”
“Uh-huh,” Dinah yawned. She was lying in bed, her earpiece on the pillow beside her spooling out Barbara’s comlink musings, in what must’ve been a hilarious sight for anyone who thought of them as lovers (which, last time Dinah had checked, was most of the team).
Barbara was a very internal person, but something about talking to Dinah helped her thought process, optimized some subconscious processing that brought her answers at an almost instinctual level. And Dinah loved the intimacy of being privy to Barbara’s thoughts, she did—as long as it was in the PM.
“So let’s track down Talia,” Dinah suggested, before being momentarily distracted by a thud against the wall. She looked at it suspiciously, but found nothing to indicate there was any threat there. “She’s usually the weak link in his operations.”
“Already on it,” Barbara said. “We should be ready to go by morning. I think we could all use a break before we go against Ra’s.”
“You don’t say,” Dinah observed wryly, before hearing something else—or the same thing?—hit her wall.
Out of some sense of solidarity, she’d parked her room beside Helena’s, figuring that despite Huntress’s reputation, it wasn’t like she would be bringing her conquests into the Clocktower, shredding her secret identity for the sake of some dick.
She hadn’t counted on just how much sex Helena could have while still wearing the mask. Dinah was pretty sure the woman had done Wildcat after a team-up. Ted. That was just wrong.
Now something was rhythmically striking Helena’s wall, her wall, a fist or a body or a piece of furniture, even though Zinda was gone and Barbara was on the computer and there was no one else there except…
“Go ahead!” Dinah heard Helena urge hoarsely. “Stick it in, Roy! Fuck me, just drive it all the way in! Hurry!”
Comments
Shendude
I have to say, I'm starting to have mixed feelings about this story. It's super-hot, has a very nice mix of pairings, there's some great character stuff, and hints of intriguing plot...but. That title. It teases one with the impression that it will focus on Zinda, who deserves to have more smutfic written about her, but she's barely in it.
