Death of the hero

“Good evening Scarlet.” came a gruff voice from behind her. She heard heavy footsteps approaching. “I’m glad to see you’re finally awake. I didn’t want to start without you.” He was right next to her now. She could feel his breath on her ear. “By now you’ve probably realized I’ve neutralized your speed. Calm down.” He said it not out of concern or even noticing that she wasn’t calm. It was as if he expected her to be worked up so he had to order her back to her senses. “They aren’t gone, just stopped. The collar will keep you normal while it’s on. And it will stay on while I help you with your little problem.”

She just shot him a quizzical look. “I’ve been watching you for quite some time, Scarlet. I know who you are and how frustrated your life has become.” He emphasized the word almost sympathetically. “Submit to me and I will end your frustration.” She tried to search his face but what she could see of it remained passive. His tone didn’t convey a bargain though. He wasn’t asking her. He was telling her. The idea sent shivers through parts of her brain she wasn’t aware could shiver that way. There was something about this man. Maybe it was his overly confident nature. Maybe she just needed a good dicking. Or maybe it was the submission. Being the Hero, everybody always looked to Scarlet to take the lead, be in charge, and always have the answers. She didn’t mind, but she also didn’t think much of it. Being at somebody’s mercy intrigued her. But she faced forward again and said nothing.