Chapter Text
The golden light of the late setting sun spills through the windows of the train and moves across the metal door in front of you. Despite the warm light, the door looks as cold and imposing as the person behind it: Kuvira. You’ve been called into the Great Uniter’s presence for a meeting. The guard at the door told you it’s a “routine assessment,” but apparently no one else in your unit has ever been called in for such an assessment, and they’ve all worked for her for months longer than you. You can’t help but feel as though you’re here to answer for some wrongdoing.
You’re early, but you know she likes it when people are early. And despite the fact that your few interactions with her have been positively icy, you want her approval just as much as everyone else on this train. Maybe even more - it’s no secret that you’re attracted to her, and even though your bunkmates tease you over it, it’s common knowledge that her allure has a similar effect on most people. It’s probably why half her army joined.
You take a deep breath and turn the handle to the door, crossing through the gangway into the train car that holds Kuvira’s office.
“Close the door behind you,” says Kuvira immediately upon your entrance, “and have a seat.”
You bow nervously, shut the door, and take a seat in an angular green office chair across from the marble-topped desk where Kuvira sits signing papers. She pulls one paper at a time from a large stack, signs with a fountain pen, and sorts it into different stacks. Her movements are like the side rods that couple train wheels together, smooth and mechanical. You twiddle your thumbs and look around the room as you wait for her to finish. The office is as pristine as she is - not a touch of personality, not a speck of dust.
You turn back towards her to find her looking at you with those piercing green eyes.
“Do you know why I’ve called you here?” she asks.
“Not entirely, ma’am,” you reply, “the guard said it’s a routine assessment.”
With a wave of her hand, she summons forth a metal filing cabinet from the wall behind her and pulls out a folder. She places the folder on her desk and leafs through the contents, pausing now and then to confirm information.
“You’re from an industrial town in the northern region?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Before you joined the Empire, you worked in a sheet metal factory? That’s tough labor.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Reason for enlisting?”
“Well… there are a few reasons.”
“Please, go on,” Kuvira said, and smiled warmly, “I make it a point to learn about my soldiers on a personal level.”
Encouraged by the rare sight of a smiling Kuvira, you continue. You tell her about the dark time after the Queen was assassinated, when your town’s factory closed down “temporarily” and you lost your job. Over the next few months your hometown got so dangerous that it became unrecognizable. One day Kuvira’s army came through town, drove out the bandits, and helped reopen the factory - all within a week. Seeing that made you a believer in the Great Uniter’s cause, so instead of going back to the factory, you decided to join the Earth Empire. …Well, that last bit may have been kissing up, but the story was mostly true.
“How long have you been in my service?” Kuvira asks once you’ve finished.
“Three months in Basic Metalbending Training and just over one month of duty in the 1st Regiment, ma’am.”
“And how would you describe the quality of your performance thus far?”
“I believe that my performance has been satisfactory, ma’am. It’s an honor to serve the Earth Empire.”
“Hm.” Kuvira’s eyes are latched onto something in your file. “I see you’ve been getting along with your fellow servicemen,” she says.
You crane your neck to try and get a better view of what she’s looking at, but she angles the page slightly upward to obscure your view.
You clear your throat. “Yes… We’ve gotten close.”
“So it seems,” Kuvira says. She removes what appears to be a photo from the file, places it on the table, and slides it towards you. Your stomach drops when you see what it is. It’s a snapshot from a surveillance camera showing a woman pinned to a wall by another female soldier. The woman’s face is grainy, but her identify is clear: it’s you, caught with your uniform pants around your ankles and stupid ecstasy on your face. Evidently, Verrick’s image capture technology had found its way into Kuvira’s surveillance system. You’re the one facing the camera, so you’re the one in the hot seat.
Humiliation doesn’t even begin to cover what you’re feeling — all the blood that’s not busy reddening your face has drained into your feet.
“Well?” she prompts, “care to explain?”
You’re frozen in place with shame, your cheeks burning. You can feel Kuvira’s eyes boring holes into your skull while she waits for an answer.
She rises from her seat. “Speak,” she commands, “you ought to be brave enough to take accountability for your actions, considering you’re bold enough to fuck in a common area.”
Her unexpected vulgarity startles you into speaking.
“I meant no disrespect, General Kuvira. I- I didn’t know there was a camera,” you stammer.
She begins walking around the desk toward you, slowly, letting her gloved hand glide along its surface. “I dedicate every waking hour to ensuring the well-being of my people. I brought order to your town, fixed your factory, and gave you a job where you had an opportunity to do something great, and this is how you spend your time in my service?” She’s standing in front of you now, so imposing that she may as well be ten stories tall. Now you understand how she’s stood toe-to-toe with men three times her size and brought them to their knees with nothing but a sharp glance. She raises a hand slowly. The metallic clasps and sheaths on your uniform buckle and shake under the influence of her metalbending, pulling you up out of the seat by the fabric of your jacket, bringing you face-to-face with her. “I even gave you the clothes on your back,” she spits.
She thrusts her arm forward, and the metal in your uniform follows her motion, sending you toppling over the back of the chair and onto the floor. You rise onto your hands and knees, shaken and indignant. Rage swirls in your stomach and erupts out of your mouth.
“I know it was inappropriate to ‘fuck’ out in the open like that, but I left behind everything I’ve ever known to follow you. I got lonely — I’m human,” you shout, “but maybe you don’t know what that’s like!” You stare straight down at your hands on the floor, instantly regretting your words.
“You know nothing about me,” she snarls, marching toward you. Through hot, stinging tears you see her boots come into view, nearly stepping on your fingers. Oops. No one knows what happens to people who dissent to the Great Uniter, but everyone knows that it’s bad news. And this is more than dissent or disobedience; you essentially just called her inhuman.
Everyone also knows that Kuvira may just spare you if you grovel hard enough. So you bow, forehead to the ground. And to really sell how very sorry you are, you shuffle forward, wrap your hands around her heels and kiss the tops of her boots one at a time.
You look up and find a dumbfounded — but not unhappy — expression on her face. Kuvira really is a sucker for groveling, you think. And judging by the reaction in your pants, you’re a glutton for punishment. You move your hands up the backs of her boots ever so slightly and bow again to kiss her boots on the insides of her ankles. She doesn’t move, so you slide your hands up again, slowly, past her boots until you feel the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her uniform pants. When your hands reach the backs of her knees, she reaches a hand out suddenly and grabs you by the hair, hard, and holds you there. You stop moving your hands. Your heart pounds in your ears. I’m done for.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Kuvira make a twisting motion with her free hand. The office door locks with a metallic clink. She brings her fingers out of your hair now and hooks one under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet hers. Her eyes are dark and her jaw is set. She cocks her head to one side as if to say, “Well? I’m waiting.”
Is this really happening? You let out a shaky breath and continue your little show of subservience. You move up her legs, planting gentle kisses on the front of her calf, then her knee, her thigh; your hands follow your mouth, trailing up the backs of her legs as you rise up on your knees to reach her hips.
You drag your hands over the firm curve of her butt towards her waistband and feel her breath hitch just slightly in response. You look up at her face; she’s watching you, calculating, analyzing. With the type of caution you’d exercise to approach a wild animal, you hold eye contact and slowly lean forward to plant one last kiss right on the crotch of her pants.
Suddenly, her hands fly up and you feel the metal shoulder guards of your uniform shift toward your neck — before you can process what’s happening, she’s metalbent you into the air by your throat and thrust you chest-first against a wall - which, mercifully, is padded. Two more pieces of metal fly in to pin your hands to the wall above your head, followed by her hands - slam! - on either side of your torso.
She leans in and grazes her lips against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
“I’ll show you just how human I am,” Kuvira says, her voice low and dark. She swiftly balls one hand into a fist against the wall and you feel every piece of metal on your uniform stiffen, locking you in place by more than just your hands. You can’t move a millimeter. She brings the other hand to her mouth and uses her teeth to remove her glove. It falls to the ground.
Kuvira’s bare hand moves around to the front of your uniform, undoes your belt buckle, and slips into the waistband of your pants. Her fingers are cold against the delicate skin despite being constantly gloved, and it makes you gasp. She slides her hand slowly down over your underwear and between your legs to find that you’ve soaked right through the fabric. Busted.
“Tsk. What am I supposed to do with this mess?” asks Kuvira, drawing lazy circles over your clit through the slick fabric. It feels ridiculously good. “I’ve never dealt with a problem like this before. Tell me, what kind of discipline do you think would be appropriate?” But your mind is occupied by this dizzying combination of sensations: her warm body against your back, her breath on your neck, her hand down your drawers.
Kuvira tightens the metal around your wrists and gives you a shake. “I asked you a question.”
“Uh- I- whatever you want. Ma’am,” you manage.
“I guess I’ll have to decide for myself, then,” Kuvira sighs. She scoots her boot between your legs and kicks your feet apart to widen your stance. Then she slips her pointer finger smoothly beneath your underwear, moving the soaked fabric to the side. She moves her fingers ever so gently up and down the length of your slit. Without the underwear in the way, every touch feels electric. Every time the pad of her finger passes your clit, you try to press closer to get more friction, but it’s a futile effort - her metalbending has got you locked into place. She breaths a cruel little laugh into your ear, knowing that she controls you absolutely.
Kuvira’s fingers switch to drawing circles around your clit, purposefully just a bit too far to really scratch that itch. That she’s purposefully teasing you is as maddening as it is arousing. You can’t help but ask for “more, please.”
“I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands,” Kuvira replies, practically purring. But she finally moves her fingers to the spot that’s aching for her touch. A heavenly tingling begins to radiate from your center and dance up your spine.
She begins to pick up the pace. Every stroke against your clit sends pulsating waves of pleasure throughout your body. Heat begins to build in such a powerful way that you’re afraid of the noises that’ll come out of your mouth when it all finally spills over. She continues to push you closer to that point, adding pressure each time you moan and twitch. The pleasure starts to come to a head, rising up and up— but then Kuvira stops. She pulls her hand out of your waistband, leaving an empty ache where a climax should have been.
Before you can protest, a strip of metal is slapped over your mouth. Kuvira releases her hold on the metal around your wrists and uniform - with nothing to hold you up, you wobble to the floor, weak in the knees. Behind you, you hear metal clinking and fabric rustling as Kuvira hurriedly removes her own belt from her uniform. She spins you around towards her, and you look up to find that she’s a bit red in the face, sweat on her brow. Either she was physically taxed by the sustained effort of holding you in place with bending that whole time, or she was getting off on controlling you like this (which might be hot if it weren’t so infuriating). She grabs your face and leans down until you’re cheek-to-cheek.
“That must be frustrating for you, getting so close only to have it taken away,” Kuvira says smugly into your ear. “I think the punishment fits the crime.”
Since you can’t actually reply with the metal over your mouth, you furrow your brows and narrow your eyes to give her the angriest possible look you can muster. She just laughs - a sexy, cocky, maddening sneer. She stands back up straight, grabs the back of your head, and presses it into her groin.
“I’m feeling generous,” Kuvira says, looking down at you. “I’ll consider finishing you… quid pro quo.” She flicks the fingers of her other hand toward the ground and the metal strip falls off of your mouth, leaving nothing but the fabric of her trousers between your mouth and her sex. “Or, you can leave.”
Leave the room? Leave the army? Am I banished or something? you think, but she doesn’t elaborate because it doesn’t matter. She knows as well as you do that you’ll stay right here and make her cum because there’s a chance she’ll return the favor.
You vow to wipe that shit-eating smirk off her stupid, beautiful face. You reach up to the waistband of her pants and pull them down around her ankles, ignoring the irony that this is your punishment for you being in this same exact position. No cameras in here, though. Just her penetrating emerald eyes. You’re pleased to see a wet spot on her underwear: proof that she was, in fact, getting off on your subservience. You lean forward and kiss right over the wetness, earning a little sigh.
Slowly, you begin to move your jaw up and down against the fabric. It’s warm and soft and you can’t wait to taste her. You press your tongue to the fabric over her clit repeatedly, earning little twitches each time. Her chest begins to rise and fall more dramatically as her breath quickens.
“Enough teasing,” she snaps. She pulls her underwear down and shoves your mouth onto her pussy. You hold eye contact and begin to obediently lick at her folds, earning a relieved sigh. She throws her head back — is that a little smile playing across her lips? Your tongue finds her clit and you move on it in tight circles. Her taste is intoxicating, musky and the tiniest bit salty. You respond to her twitches and pulses, keeping your tongue centered right on that sweet spot.
Even the Great Uniter can’t keep her composure forever. As you lap and lick with increasing intensity, she begins to pant and groan. She starts bucking her hips to the rhythm of your licking, pressing on the back of your head to get more pressure. Since she’s acting like she wants more, you raise your fingers to her dripping cunt and play at her entrance. Your eyes flick up to take in the lecherous look on her face: her lips are parted, pupils blown wide, baby hairs stuck to the glistening sweat on her brow.
As soon as you enter her, she lets out an audible gasp. You curl your fingers inside of her, moving them in pace with your tongue. Almost immediately, she begins to tighten.
You keep your eyes locked to hers, watching as redness creeps up her neck to her cheeks. She starts to pulse around your fingers. As she nears the edge, she presses her lips together and nods at you fervently, as if begging you to keep going, just like that. You feel her wetness drip down your chin.
Kuvira cries out as she reaches her climax, doubling over, holding your head to her clit as she grinds against your tongue and rides her orgasm to completion. For the briefest moment as she comes down from the high, you think you see a softness in her eyes. She moves her fingers through your hair almost tenderly. You drink in the sight of her: her braided bun has come a little bit loose; her lips are parted, and you yearn to taste them.
Once she’s satisfied, she straightens up, takes a deep breath, and begins dressing herself. Then she walks over to her desk, leaving you kneeling there achingly wet and unsatisfied.
You watch incredulously as she pulls a new pair of gloves out of a drawer and starts signing papers again. You get up, march your wobbly legs over to her desk, and clear your throat. She doesn’t look up from her task.
“You’re dismissed,” she says simply.
You stand there feeling a bit foolish; you’re not quite sure what to say besides basically begging her to let you cum. “Kuvira, I… You said before—”
“I said that I would consider it,” she said, placing a freshly-signed sheet of paper on the appropriate stack, “but I still haven’t made up my mind.” Now she looks up at you, wearing that damn smirk again. “Your next performance review is in two weeks. I trust you’ll behave until then.”