One on One

The gymnasium was empty, save for Dinah and her mark. The rest of the students had cleared out ten minutes ago. Meanwhile, the blonde watched as her target finished the last of the extra laps assigned to him, punishment for some trumped up slights he had committed during class.

Normally, Dinah didn't enjoy lording authority over others. But this was a special case. Plus, the cocky bastard deserved it. Matt Reston rounded the last corner of the basketball court and came to a lumbering stop near Dinah's seat on the wooden bleachers. She stood up and found herself appreciating the image of Reston feeling the displeasure of exhaustion.

A half-hour ago the jock had been the shining example of high school athleticism - and, in a way, he still was even now. It was a testament to Reston's excellent physical condition that he appeared to be only somewhat fatigued.

But deep down Dinah knew she shouldn't have been surprised by the kid's sterling fitness. The video file Helena had sent Barbara had been hours long. Dinah's breath caught at the memory and she felt her lips curl in disgust.

The sound of Reston's heavy breathing brought Dinah back to the uglier reality of the present. Helena's abuser stood before her, tall, healthy, and unharmed.

Matthew Reston had wealth. He had enrollment at a private school. He had the attention of the fairer sex, even from girls who weren't wearing the black rings.

Matthew Reston had too many good things going for him.

"Do you know why I kept you after class?" Dinah asked the young man, her voice cold and biting.

Reston leaned back slightly, moving his hands from his knees to behind his head. This had the side-effect of causing the shirt of his gym uniform to rise ever so slightly. It was only a couple of inches but it was enough to expose some skin. Dinah's eyes flashed down to the breach for a split second, catching sight of a narrow swath of her target's lower abdominals. Specifically, the v-shaped muscles that stretched down towards his groin-

"I haven't the faintest idea, Coach."

Dinah blinked, yanking her gaze upward with speed that would make The Flash jealous. Reston didn't seem to have noticed her indiscretion, still looking tired with beads of sweat dripping down his temples. But there was something in his eyes, the hint of playfulness that sent a hot flash spread across Dinah's cheeks.

The blonde powerhouse suddenly felt more than a little underdressed. The outfit she had picked out that morning had already done its job. She had gotten Reston's attention, drawing his eyes her way enough times for an excuse to give him some extra laps. But now, with so much of her body on display, Dinah felt a rare sensation: vulnerability. She was exposed, her body open to be feasted on by hungry eyes. Reston's eyes. The eyes of a predator, a sexual abuser. A sexual dominator. Even now, with him exhausted and dripping with sweat, Dinah could only imagine the kind of fantasies playing in his depraved, brutish mind.

Quickly, with no mind to how insecure it made her look, Dinah crossed her arms across her belly, pulling her hoodie closed to cover what little of her body it could. But that still left her bare legs free to be ogled, especially her thighs. It was her own fault. It was the outfit she picked for herself, after all.

It was a brief moment of uncertainty. Dinah found her nerve again quick enough to snap at the young man.

"You haven't the faintest idea, huh? Well, how about your blatant disrespectful attitude?" She glared up at Reston, frowning. Dinah hoped she appeared intimidating, but she could still feel the warmth in her cheeks. Reston was looking a little flushed himself, so the blonde found a little hope in the possibility he simply wouldn't notice.

"Disrespectful…" Reston repeated. It was his turn to frown, but unlike Dinah his expression was one of confusion. He stared out into the open air for a moment before turning his eyes on her. He pursed his lips for a moment, as if thinking of something to say. The corner of his lips curled upwards just a little, the tiniest, bashful smile a man like Matt Reston could conjure up. "Well, if anything I've said to you these last couple of days came off as disrespectful then I am truly sorry, ma'am. My mom and dad raised me to be a gentleman. I'm just being friendly. Honest. I don't mean anything by it."

Dinah's breath caught again, something that was becoming far too common for her tastes. The smirks, the little movements of his lips, the micro-expressions that crossed his admittedly cute face… Dinah was constantly on the defensive, forcing herself to remember that this… handsome young man was a rapist. A predator of women. A sexual abuser. A criminal who had taken her friend, Helena, hostage.

Why would a guy who looks like Matthew Reston need to use mind-control on women?

It was a question Dinah and Barbara had been asking themselves constantly. Why resort to crime to get female attention when the attention was already theirs? Dinah had been a teenager once. The Matt Restons and Andrew Westfields of high school were never hurting for female company. Dinah knew that for a fact… because she was the type of girl who kept them company.

But fighting crime for years had taught Dinah one thing: sometimes criminals didn't need to make sense. Sometimes they break the law for the thrill. Sometimes they hurt people just because they can. Creeps like Matthew Reston don't need a reason to prey on women. And that was why Dinah was going to take this bastard down.

Dinah nodded, her lips pursed tightly as she regarded the tired teenager before her. She watched the tiny drops of sweat dribble down from his hairline to his jaw then down the side of his neck, droplets disappearing under the fabric of his shirt.

"Right." Dinah said, her voice clipped and emotionless. She turned away and sat back down on the bleachers, making a show of holding her nose shut with her fingers. "We'll continue this discussion after you've cleaned yourself up. You smell like my dad's closet."

"It's already fifteen minutes into the next period-" Reston started to complain. Dinah wouldn't have any of it.

"I'll keep you as long as I want." She said firmly, crossing her legs. "Go shower. And then we'll discuss your behavior in my class."

Dinah could tell Reston wanted to say something. The look on his face was a mix of confusion, annoyance… and anger. That was something new. Reston normally kept his emotions in check. Dinah felt a small spark of pleasure, deep in her belly. She was getting to him. She kept her eyes trained on his, daring him to talk back.

Reston didn't talk back. Instead he turned and retreated towards the boys' locker room. And while he did so, Dinah caught the familiar glimmer of the black ring on his hand.

Raised to be a gentleman… My ass…

Matt considered taking a short shower. Duck under the cold spray with a dollop of shampoo, rinse for twenty seconds, and then jump back out. The tall teenager winced as he imagined the discomfort of chilled water pelting his back. He was already late for his next class and no amount of rushing would help him be on time. Plus, Miss Blake wanted to keep him even longer afterwards. Matt decided to take his time.

Waiting for the spray to get warm allowed him to get his thoughts in order. Miss B had only been teaching athletics for a couple days and Matt already found himself square at the top of her shit list. Which, in Matt's opinion, was a damn shame. The blonde was an absolute knockout.

Matt stood under the warm shower for several long moments, letting the water massage and soothe his scalp, neck, shoulders. He let out a satisfied sigh, allowing his entire body to relax, enjoying the feeling of all the grime, sweat, and stink pouring off of his skin and swirling down the drain.

Eventually, the young teen reluctantly shut the water off and grabbed a towel. First he dried his hair, then his face, moving next onto his arms, chest, legs, before finally wrapping the white band of fuzzy fabric around his waist. A fresh change of clothes was waiting for him in his gym locker.

The sound of his bare feet plodding along the tile floor echoed through the empty locker room. He reached his locker and was about to turn the dial on the lock when a sharp, feminine voice cut through the silence. The locker room, as it turned out, wasn't so empty after all.

"Wow." Spoke the voice of his favorite gym teacher. Matt dared a glance over his shoulder just to confirm that it really was her. It was. "You really don't ever take that ring off, do you?"

The short blonde woman was leaning against the far wall, arms crossed and wearing a cold expression on her pretty face. She hadn't changed out of her revealing gym clothes and even when wearing a loose hoodie, Miss Blake was all legs, thighs, and toned belly. Matt briefly thought back to some lovely dreams he had experienced that started in ways similar to this. But Miss Blake's hard eyes and icy glare told him that this encounter was likely going to be far less pleasant.

Matt pressed his lips into a thin line, making an effort to keep an even expression. He took a quick look at the ring Miss Blake was talking about, the band of black stone on the middle finger of his right hand. The Brotherhood ring. Why was she always bugging him about it?

He turned his eyes back towards the woman staring him down. Matt didn't like getting into arguments. He certainly didn't like getting into arguments with women. And he especially didn't like getting into arguments while naked.

"This is the boys locker room, Miss B." Matt spoke after a moment, his voice bold and firm but not quite loud or booming. He didn't want to give too strong of a reaction. No, that might be exactly what Miss B wanted. A man could never be too careful with the kinds of head-games women played.

"Yes, it is." Miss Blake pushed off the wall and began closing the distance between them, taking slow, deliberate steps. Matt took a small breath, barely perceptible, and reflexively held tighter onto the knot that kept the towel around his waist. The young man tightened his jaw, squaring his shoulders as the blonde bombshell approached. Is she… swaying her hips?

"So, why are you here?" Matt asked, his voice just a little louder and eyes just a little harder. The young man found he still had some steel in his spine. Matthew Reston was the big man on the Kingston campus. He wasn't going to come undone because of one hot gym teacher.

Miss Blake had whittled the space between them down to a mere couple of feet. She looked him up and down, rocking slightly on her feet, cocking her hips - well-shaped as they were - slowly from side to side. She was checking him out, blatantly checking him out, but there was something else in her eyes, something colder, more calculating.

"I said we were going to talk once you got cleaned up." Miss Blake told him calmly - and coldly. "Now you're cleaned up. So we're going to talk."

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