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“Where’s your ring?”
“It’s, well, I mean to say…” Barry blubbered and stuttered, trying to think up a good excuse. He’d already been blindsided by her mind-numbing kiss. In this past year he’d almost pushed out of his mind how much he’d always wanted her, how much he’d always loved her. Patty had almost been a functional distraction. Then he’d been thrown against a wall and kissed within an inch of his life. All of those feelings came rushing back to the forefront, and he couldn’t think straight right now if he tried.
Although she wore a cool smirk on her face, Iris’ eyes were narrowed dangerously.
“Where’s your ring, Barry Allen?”
“I, uh-”
“-Don’t have a good explanation?” She pushed even tighter against him, making the crotch of his slacks ruck up. “Do you know how much I loathe the thought of you with another woman?” The smile still shone, but her teeth seemed suddenly sharp and her voice cut into him like glass, her possessiveness bleeding into his skin. He sputtered, trying to think of something, coming up short when she pressed her hips flush against him, the material of his vest wrinkling under the tight grip of her fists, hemming him up against the wall, grinding against his cock. A wave of arousal hit him. A woman so tiny shouldn't be able to push him around like this; but Iris could on any Earth, and he liked it.
“Upstairs. Right now.”
“What-where-?”
Mercilessly Iris twisted his arm behind his back, making a slight pain shoot up into his shoulder.The sound he made should have embarrassed him. Man, she was strong; “his” tiny little cop wife manhandling him. Iris began to march him towards the elevator like the law-enforcement official she was.“Your lab. No talking.”
Barry tried to swallow down the pull he felt towards her. This wasn’t his Iris. Jay told him not to get sucked in.
But then the elevator door opened and he was shoved unceremoniously into the wall face first, Iris not giving an inch behind him. She was plastered against him octopus-style, running her hands up and down his body as she held him there, unyielding. His temperature rose as she pawed at his abs, obliques, his hips like he was her plaything. Barry breath fogged the mirror as he finally realized her intentions. When her perfectly manicured hand wrapped around his already-hardening manhood and squeezed, he hissed and involuntarily rutted into her touch.
She wasn’t his. This shouldn’t be happening. “Whoa, Iris, I-“
Her voice echoed harshly in the dimly-lit old elevator as she raised it.
“I said no talking, and don’t make me repeat myself. You know how much I hate to repeat myself.” So he shut up with a click of his teeth, and tried to remind his dick that no matter what happened, this wasn’t his Iris. He shouldn’t let her do this, but the mission. Yeah, that was it. The mission.
Outside of the elevator she spun him around. Defying even his speed, Iris slapped handcuffs on his wrists tight enough to chafe the skin red and angry.
“You need to be punished-” she shoved him back towards his desk like he was 5”2” instead of 6’2”, “-For not wearing your ring. Sometimes I think you do it because you like to see me this way. You like to test my dominance. When you provoke me I have to very swiftly put you in your place.” Barry shook his head no, both frightened and aroused by what she might do. His mouth opened again, about to deny it. Iris’ index finger shot up and quieted him immediately.
“Shhhhh,” The finger pressed against his lips as she smiled a seductive and powerful smile. She came in for another kiss, this one sloppy and haphazard, unrelenting and hard, making Barry’s head rock back. Iris’ teeth sank into his lower lip until she coaxed a moan out of him, nearly drawing blood.
“People should know you're a taken man.” She took a step back. “Arms up. Drop em.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” In an instant Iris had him crowded up against “his” desk, snatching at his belt buckle, looking him in the eyes as she did it, as if daring him to stop her. And he should. He should own up to being an imposter, should tell her he was not the man she came home to every night. But the mission. He licked his ravaged bottom lip and submitted to Iris’ iron will.
Her hands snatched and pulled, wrangling his slacks and boxer briefs down to tangle at his knees.
“I see you’re warming up to the idea already. What a filthy boy you are.”
Barry was semi-erect, his dick beginning to stand. In that moment it was pointed directly at her, as if signaling to her that it was hers for the taking.
Iris doesn’t miss a beat. Her nightstick extends with a flick of her wrist and a “snick” sound.
“Bend over.”
Barry knew he was in a world of trouble. He wanted nothing more than for her to mark up his skin, push him to the edge and make him beg, but he should stop her. But stopping her would require telling her the truth. This is for the mission, he told himself as he braced his forearms flat against Earth-2 Barry’s desk, knowing perfectly well that was bullshit.
“Look at me, you little slut.” Barry locked eyes with her as she brought the nightstick down across his asscheeks. Barry hissed and nearly jumped out of his skin, but he didn’t break eye contact for even a second. “I like how you keep those pretty doe eyes on me. Let’s me know you’re focused,” her smile made him feel oddly proud. All he wanted was to please her, to do whatever it took to get praise from her. “Hold still.” So he held. She gave him another stinging whack, harder this time. The nightstick whistled through the air as it cut down into the delicate skin.
“Aaahh!” He cried out, unable to keep it in.
“Quiet. You’ll take the pain like a good little slut and you’ll love it, understand?”
“Yes, Mistress- ahhh!- I love it, I do.“
“This bare, pale, freckled ass belongs to me, and I’ll beat it until it’s bruised and kool-aid red because I can do that.”
Several more strikes later, and Barry was red faced, lip freshly bitten from biting back moans of both pleasure and pain. His dick was now fully erect and leaking salty drops of precum. He wanted so desperately to get his fist around himself and pull, just a couple of times…
“Mistress, may I-“
“Hell no.”
“Please.” Barry was rocking back and forth, barely able to contain himself, barely able to keep from bringing himself off right on his doppelganger's workspace.
“Absolutely not.” Iris smacked his cheeks with the flat of her hand, making them red and hot, leaving perfectly shaped handprints in the already sore flesh. “You notice I haven’t shut the door. If anyone walks in here, they'll see me taking what's mine. This sweet little ass is mine, is it not?“
“It’s yours, yes, it’s yours,” Barry wasted no time answering to the affirmative.
"Do any other women get to touch you?”
"No, no, Ma’am,” he stuttered, hardened cock rubbing against the desk drawers. His hips rolled uncontrollably with the contact, desperately seeking relief.
"What did you say?” Iris’ ear tilted towards him, her eyebrows lifted.
"No Ma’am," he says louder and with more conviction, "no one gets to touch me. Only you. "
"Who do you belong to?”
"Iris West-Allen.”
“Good puppy. Now stand up straight.” No sooner did Barry stand than Iris put a hand to his chest and shoved. With his pants down by his ankles he stumbled, landing back in “his” office chair. Iris pushed the chair back until it rolled into a lab shelf, making the glass jars clank and jitter angrily. She lifted his arms, cuffing them up over his head. For a moment she turned away to fish in the desk drawer: she returned triumphantly with a pair of heavy scissors. Earth-2 Barry’s bowtie, vest and white button down are sheared into two neat pieces, a straight line right down the middle. The cool air makes his skin prickle and his nipples hard.
“You're mine, you hear me?“
"Yes, I-“
“Yes, what?
“Yes, Ma’am.” There was nothing in the world he wanted more than to be hers, and for her to show him.
“Barry, Honey, did you know that Mrs. is an abbreviation for Mistress?” He shook his head fast, keeping his mouth shut, biting his lip. He wanted to touch her, to feel her. The denial was killing him, in the best way. The tip of her nightstick circled his nipples, making them stand, the wood chafing them angry and raw. “That makes me Mistress West-Allen. When I added your name to mine, you became my property.” She pressed the tip down on his right nipple hard, the overstimulation making him squirm.
“Yes, Ma’am, I’m your property.”
“Then why isn’t my territory marked with his wedding ring?” When he opens his mouth she swings the billy club, pointing it at his nose. “Quiet. I didn’t give you permission to speak.”
Kicking his legs apart she stood looking down on him. She unbuttoned those pants she looked so good in slowly, painfully slow, letting them fall to the floor. Barry licked his lips, his crotch jutting out involuntarily, his cock wanted to get as near to her as possible. She wasn’t wearing any panties. Barry’s eyes were as big as saucers as they scanned over her toned muscles, curvy hips, perfect brown skin, all within a tongue’s reach. And the place where her thighs met…
“Did you forget about all this?” Barry shook his head fast. He would never forget in the future, either. She turned around and bent all the way over. He nearly came right then and there. “How about this? She reached between her legs and ran her fingers up and down her delicate folds. Her scent was on the air now, and he was hungry for her.
“Did you forget how I taste?” Her voice teased him as she prodded her fingers into his mouth, stretching his jaw open, poking into the back of his throat, making him gag. “You act like you did when you forget your ring. I think you need a reminder.” She turned around, her law enforcement voice back on. “You’re going to polish this pussy to a high shine. You’ll do it to my satisfaction. Come here, my little man-whore.” When Barry got his face close to the prize she pulled away, swiveling her hips, playing keep away.
“What’s the matter, Sweetheart, not fast enough?” Barry nearly laughed out loud at that. His shoulders felt ready to pop out of the sockets as he chased her with his lips and tongue, testing the limits of the handcuffs. It didn’t matter, he healed fast.
“Service me with that mouth of yours. You’re going to lick every part of me and you’re going to do it to my satisfaction.”
“Yes, please Mistress, let me please you, I need to please you,” his voice came out as a gasping whisper, all he could manage in his haze of desire.
“All the way up and all the way down.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Gladly.
Barry flattened his wide wet tongue, drawing a slow trail from Iris’ clit to slit to asshole, using the back of his tongue on the way back down. He allowed his eyes to flutter closed so he could fully experience her; with relish he savored her delicate, womanly taste, her moans and calls of “good boy” spurring him on. He repeated this action until his neck ached and his lips were sore.
“I didn't say you could slow down.”
Iris fisted her hand in his hair, making it feel like she was going to yank it out at the root while she rubbed his face in her center. He couldn’t breathe.
“Don’t you dare stop. You hear me, Barry Allen?”
“Mm-hmm,” he moaned as she cloaked his face with pussy and ass. Iris smacked his now rock-hard cock around with her nightstick. Every swing made his manhood dance and lean back and forth, each swing carrying more sting than the next, causing him to flinch each time. His hunger for more pain grew.
“Good boy.”
He couldn’t see, could only use his mouth and hear Iris’ moans of approval. She rubbed his face against her, hard, until every muscle in his face was aching and strained. She didn’t pull his head back until he was red and gasping for breath. Barry licked his lips, cleaning her sticky sweetness off his face.
“Thank you, Mistress, thank you-“ Iris cut him off when she yanked his face back into her pussy. All Barry could breathe was her. He groaned with the need to touch his throbbing member, but he did he job with enthusiasm, knowing that there was no other way he’d rather leave this Earth (or the other one, for that matter) than to be smothered by Iris West-Allen’s glorious pussy.
When she finally let him come back up for air he was sputtering, red-faced and high from lack of oxygen, and endlessly grateful. “Thank you, Mistress, thank-“ Iris cut him off again with another round of face-smothering, and he used his tongue to spell out the words “thank you” and “please” over her hole.
Iris shuddered, bucking against his face, riding his tongue to her own completion.
Satisfaction was written all over her smile when she stood to face him. “Ah yes, that’s my good little slut. My own personal little fuck-toy. It’s starting to come back to you now.”
“Yes, Mistress. I love the way you taste.”
“Open.” Barry opened his mouth. Iris wrenched her nightstick in, like a bit into the mouth of a horse. “Close.” He closed it, clamping his teeth down on the splintering wood.
Iris’ tiny manicured hands gripped his shaft tight, too tight, making him his and buck his hips. She began to suck him off, at a maddening pace that caught him off guard. He built to orgasm with lightning speed and just when he was on the edge…Iris pulled her mouth off with an audible pop. Barry actually whimpered around the wood in his mouth.
“No orgasms until I say.”
He looked at her with pleading puppy dog eyes, desperate and wide open. He panted and whined, his eyebrows knit together in a helpless expression. Being built up and dropped right on the edge of blowing his load hurt so damn good. She slapped his dick with the flat of her hand, the jolt of pain pulling him back from the edge.
“Please,” he begged. It sounded more like “peash”.
She started again, same dizzying pace, tongue twisting in deft circles just the way she knew “he” liked it, making Barry winch his eyes closed and flex his muscles with the pleasure of it. Again he felt it building. Just as he began to stiffen and strain against the handcuffs, she took her mouth away and gave him another sharp slap. Another thing Iris West-Allen knew very well about Barry Allen on any Earth was when he was about to shoot like a rocket.
“Oh God, oh God, Mistress, would you, please.”
“There we go. You look so damn pretty when you beg. I love taking you apart like this. Don’t you?” She stared at him, squirming, mindless, open and hungry.
“Mmm-hmm!” He nodded emphatically, voice garbled by her nightstick. “I love it, Iris, may I, please-“
“Mistress.”
“Mistress West-Allen. Please. Please.”
“Seeing you so desperate and wrecked gets me so wet.” Her voice was a ragged whisper. She edged him relentlessly, sucking and slapping several more times until it was hurting him not to be able to release, until she was wringing pleas and promises from his wet lips. Soon there were only a few words Barry could remember clearly, but he barely knew if he was using them correctly.
Plee-pleeeease.”
“No.”
“Mistress, Please!”
“Hell no.” When she pulled her mouth away the final time Barry’s mind was so gone his eyes were crossed. Iris neatly swung her legs over the chair and sat down on his dick in one deft, decisive movement, burying him inside her deep, to the hilt.
“Oh, fuuuuuuuck,” he moaned. Being inside her was just as he’d always imagined. His moans echoed off of the sterile walls and his head lolled back as he bit into the club in his mouth.
“You love this. You love being inside this walls. Never forget how I make you feel, Barry. Never forget that this piece of meat belongs to me.” She bounced on it straight up and down, pulling almost all the way off, then all the way back down. Fast and hard, she pounded in his lap, her ass slapping against his balls, punching his cock in deep. Barry was amazed at how much she could take, and how much she could dish out. He balled his hands into fists, trying his hardest to obey her orders, trying to stay in this perfect moment for as long as he could, letting the woman he loved own him and have complete control of him. She always did anyway.
“Look at me. This dick is mine.” Barry felt feverish, his temperature spiked and his pulse hammered. He whimpered helplessly with each movement.
“It yours, Mistress,” he assured her breathlessly, “It’s always been yours…”
“That’s right, my Love,” Her hand came up around his throat, choking him as she sank her teeth into the side of his neck hard enough to break the skin, and this time he couldn’t hold back.
His words spilled out in a jumble; “I can’t I can’t Pleeeeeease please, Mistress West-Allen, can I come, please, I can’t-“
“You can come.” Iris whispered in his ear as she rode him, hard and fast. “Come for me. Shoot it in me. That’s mine, too,” she coos with a giggle and a wink. He could feel it the moment he lost control, and this time, Iris let him. “Eyes on me.”
Barry spouted off in her so hard that for a moment her can’t see; he could only come, thrusting his hips up and lifting them both out of the chair, arms jerking, knocking things off the shelf. Far away was the sound of shattering glass; he didn’t care. This wasn’t even his lab.
“That’s it. Such a good boy for me, Bear.” He stared at her with widened eyes and mouth as he pumped his seed into her, his groin clenching and unclenching in waves, his expression saying he was surprised he could even come this hard.
“Mmm, feels good,” Iris smiled at him mischievously.
He couldn’t help but close him eyes then, hips jerking erratically as he spent himself, gushing hot and sticky inside of her. When he finally stopped coming, he felt like he’d been turned inside out. His forehead lolled forward against her collarbone, his entire body jelly.
Soft hands caressed his face and kissed his hair. As Iris stood up he felt himself ease out of where she was tight, and hot, and warm. He immediately missed the sensation of being enveloped in her, loathing that he couldn’t feel it all the time, angry at the cold air that shocked his softening member. Seeing the wetness that dribbled down the inside of Iris’ thigh as she stood over him threatened to make him hard all over again. She leaned down and sucked him into her mouth and took a couple of pulls on his dick, making him jump from post-orgasm sensitivity.
“Ahhh, sssssss, Iris, please!”
Iris laughed at him. His head fell to the side as he caught his elusive his breath. He laughed at himself.
She uncuffs him. “Messy, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, I guess we are.”
“Will I have to worry about you forgetting that ring ever again?”
“Absolutely not,” He replied with a laugh.
“Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?”
“Home.” Home?
Her fingers deftly grasped his chin, pinching it between her thumb and forefinger.
She looked at him with intensity. “I love you.”
He looked back at her, expression soft, malleable, sincere. He meant it with every bone in his body when he replied, “I love you, too.”