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An interactive hayride where the guests fend off zombies with paintball guns. Its a popular attraction annually. Except something goes wrong this year.

Ellie takes a few deep breaths to calm her nerves, then complies with his orders. She pulls the tank top off up and over her head, her blonde hair spilling down over her shoulders and collarbone, not quite long enough to cover her breasts. She drops the tank top on the floor, then hooks her thumbs in the sides of the yoga pants and slides them down, letting them fall from her knees to the floor without aid. She steps out of the lump of fabric, then pushes it aside with one toe. She stands before him nude, her breasts rising and falling with her faster than normal breathing, hands clasped in front of her, blocking his view of her most pri

Ellie takes a few quick steps into the room as he tugs her forward. She stands before him, looking up into his eyes, uncertain of what he's going to do.

Ellie followed him into the bedroom and stood by the door. What was he going to do? Was this it? Was this the moment he decided to take her?

Ellie's eyes grow wide when he smacks her ass. He's coming to my room? Does that mean this is it? She hadn't even had a chance to form any kind of bond with him, to perhaps humanize herself in his eyes and keep him from forcing himself on her. She walked back to her room woodenly, stepped in through the door, and then sat on the edge of the bed. She watched as Jason entered the room behind her, and wondered what he would do.

Ellie nods silently. She knows from personal experience that turning away from a path of vengeance is difficult, nearly impossible. She has blood on her hands from her own need for revenge. She finishes drying herself off, then slips into the yoga pants and tank top. They fit surprisingly well, the pants hugging her waist and the curve of her hips, the tank top a bit tighter around her breasts than she would prefer, but not uncomfortably so. "I understand," she says simply. "Shall I retire to my room?"

Ellie shakes her head sadly, then casts her gaze downward. "I don't have Affinity's ability or empathy. I can't know what you feel, what you think you need to do. All I can tell you is that I once pursued vengeance. I did evil for my own satisfaction, to try to get even. It didn't make the hurt go away. It didn't bring them back." She looks up at him then, her eyes filled with... compassion? pity? It's hard to tell.

Ellie towels herself off, then stops at his words. She stares into his eyes, and for the first time feels like she might be making a connection with the man behind the mask, the soul within. "It's never too late," she says, reaching out one hand to touch his arm. It's a gentle touch, a touch of compassion and love, despite the situation they find themselves in. She pulls back, wraps the towel around her chest and tucks one end in, holding it up like a short dress, covering herself , then reaches both hands back out to him. She grasps his biceps and holds him at arms' length, looking into his eyes. "The things I did out of anger, hur

"It was a long time ago. I was only 17." She stares off into the distance, remembering those painful days, remembering searching the rubble, the clear space around her where her force field protected her, the rubble covering her mother and sister... "I became a costumed hero later. The League found me. I had been..." She pauses, uncertain how to continue. "I hadn't used my powers nobly. I sought vengeance. The League helped me realize I could be a positive influence instead of just ki..." She turns to face him, hands fisted below her chin, arms covering her breasts, soap suds covering her femininity. "Could you pass me that

Ellie turns to look straight ahead, feeling his cloth covered hand move over her back. "My father died when I was little," she says, her voice distant. "It was just the three of us as long as I could remember. My mom, my sister, and me." She remains silent for a while, staring off while he scrubs her back clean. "We were on vacation in Italy with my aunt and uncle. There was a group of supervillains, called themselves The Maestri. They were fighting or something, I don't really know. The whole hotel came down around us. That was the day my powers manifested. I was too late to save them. They all died."

She doesn't answer immediately. She closes her eyes as the cloth moves gently over her back, trying to think of a way to tell him. "They're all gone," she says, staring blankly ahead.

Ellie extends one long, lean leg up out of the water and begins to wash herself, moving the cloth slowly along her leg from her toes, up her calf to her knee, circling around, then up her thigh. She continues washing, exposing different parts of her body as she works diligently to get clean. When she has washed both arms, she stands, waster cascading down her body in rivulets of soapy suds, her breasts high and perky, nipples stiff in the cold air. She washes the front of her body, not trying to be sexy, just taking care of the business of bathing, but once she finishes, she turns her back to Jason. She looked back over her shoulder at h

Ellie extends one soaking wet, bubble-covered hand from within the tub to place it demurely into his much larger hand. She can feel his eyes upon her as if he were tracing his fingertips over her body, and it nearly makes her shudder. Is now the time? Is this when he will take her? She looks up at him, eyes uncertain as she peers from beneath thick lashes.

Ellie looks up at him from the tub, arms extending up over her head as she stretches, pulling her breasts almost all the way out of the water, soapy rivulets running downward, making her skin glisten and gleam. She sits up, leaning forward, as her toes disappear under the surface and her knees rise. She reaches forward, forcing her breasts together between her arms, showing a brief glimpse of magnificent cleavage before it disappears as she wraps her arms around her knees. "My name is Eleanor," she says, looking down into the water, "Everyone calls me Ellie."

Ellie looks at the clothing as he sets it on the counter top near the sink. The yoga pants look comfortable, and the tank top is also oddly her size. "Thank you," she says. She has decided to ride this out. She won't break her word, but neither will she allow herself to be taken without a fight. "What should I call you?" She sits up in the tub, sudsy bubbles trailing down her neck, over her collarbone, and onto her nearly revealed breasts. "Do you want me to call you Titan?"

"Thank you," she says. "I will." Ellie heads upstairs, finds the bathroom, and runs a hot bath, adding bath bubbles she finds in the medicine cabinet. She strips off the shirt, daisy dukes, and panties and looks at herself in the full length mirror. She is filthy, with a few bruises almost completely faded from the fight against Mayhem last week, and a few new ones from the force of Titan's earlier use of his power against her. She looks herself over, turning slightly to see her body from different angles. She is still in exceptional shape. She, of course, sees every flaw. The slight weight gain she can see in her tummy that no one else

Ellie stared at him, mouth open as if to speak, but no words would come out. She truly had no idea what to make of this man. Why would he take her powers, then give them back. It made no sense, but it had happened. She couldn't make heads or tails of his motives or intentions. Perhaps it was as he said. Perhaps this whole thing had just been a flight of fancy for him, and he really had no plan. But he had seemed so... purposeful... in all his dealings with her to date. She knew that her life as in his hands. There was no other way to say it. If he wanted he could kill her by only lifting two fingers. "Thank you," she said. It was

Ellie... no, she thought. I'm not just Ellie. I'm Haven, she reminded herself. She was a superhero, despite her lack of powers and her current situation. "You... do not wish to control me?" She looked up at him, her face filled with confusion, perhaps a little anger returning. Her fingers touched the collar at her neck. "Then why this?" she asked, indicating the collar. "Why..." She looked down at her outfit. "Everything you have done since we met has been to control me. Despite what you think of heroes, I am a woman of my word. I promised to surrender and not try to escape, lest you kill my teammates. You did not kill them. I am he

She shakes her head no. She really can't think of anything else to ask. She already knows her fate, knows what he plans on doing to her, and is doing her best to accept it. How could any of that be made better by asking questions? Should she take the time to get to know the man who plans on forcing himself on her? Will it make his actions easier to bear? Will it make her somehow more accepting of her fate? She has no idea, but as she did with washing the dishes and preparing tea, her mind snaps back to years of etiquette training. "You have a lovely home," she says, smiling a fake smile. "And dinner was delicious. Thank you. I hope you l

Ellie nods silently, laying her teaspoon across the back of her saucer. She lifts her cup to her lips and takes a sip. It's hot, burning her lips and the tip of her tongue, but she sets the cup back down slowly onto her saucer. She looks up at him then, her eyes flat, expressionless. She folds her hands before her on the table and sits silently.

Ellie cried for a few minutes more, then sniffed, and tried to pull herself together. Her cheeks burned red. Had she actually just told him to take her? She was losing it. She sniffled, got up from the chair, and picked up her clothing from around the room. She pulled on the panties, then the shorts, and the turned her shirt right side in. She pointedly avoided eye contact with him while she put it on, buttoned it up, and tied it up under her breasts. She wiped at her eyes as she sat at the table and picked up the knife and fork. She began to eat mechanically, never stopping to look up at him, cut, stab, lift, bite, chew, repeat.

She fell back onto the floor, eyes wide in panic, unable to breathe for a moment, her mouth and diaphragm working ineffectually. Finally, breath came back to her with a gasp, and as she filled her lungs, she cried. Huge, fat tears ran down her cheeks, falling on her breasts, her arms, her thighs. She sobbed for a moment and then gathered herself. He had said to sit. She scrambled to the chair, terrified of his anger. Sitting back at the table, still naked, she huddled into herself, sobbing uncontrollably. She said nothing, ate nothing, just sobbed, looking down at the surface of the table before her.

"I don't consider it a mercy!" she said, more loudly that she intended. She stood then, staring across the table at him. "I don't want you. I don't want you touching me. I certainly don't want to be... I don't want what you plan." She untied the shirt she wore and began to unbutton it. Without a bra, her breasts were bare within a moment, perky and round, high on her chest. Her hands moved to the daisy dukes and started to unbutton them. "Why don't you just take me now, if you plan on doing it anyway. Get it over with." She peeled off the shorts, let them drop to the floor around her ankles, then kicked them away. She stood bef

Ellie can't eat. She is terrified of this man, of how casually he speaks of forcing himself upon her, of how utterly helpless she is before him and his power. "You're a monster," she says, eyes brimming with tears again. "How can you be speak so nonchalantly about... about... just forcing yourself on me?" She feels her lip tremble to match the fear fluttering within her rib cage.