HUGE WARNING! There is kind-of graphic rape, dub-con, and malexmale relations! If none of this is to your taste, please hit back! I have no idea from which dark part of my brain this story came from, but it's here now! And I am warning each and every one of you readers that if you are queasy or easily disgusted, please do not read this. It's not disturbing, per sé, but I don't want anyone blaming me for them having some type of attack or something.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

"Please, stop this! Slade…" Ollie gasped, tears flowing freely from his eyes as the man above him inserted yet another finger into his virgin hole. "I'm b-"

Suddenly there was a hand covering his mouth and the pain Oliver was feeling seemed to double. He didn't have an outlet for it anymore. Instead of screaming to distract himself, he could now feel as the other man prepared him.

"If I were you, Queen, I would keep my mouth quiet. My contractor was very specific on his needs. He wants you to feel pleasure, not pain."

Deathstroke was disgusted with what he was doing. But it wasn't for the reason he thought.

He was disgusted because he completely found himself enjoying the ministrations he was performing on the blonde.

The way his muscular yet lithe body twisted and turned to try and get away from his rough fingers was oddly enticing. The pure and unadulterated fear that vibrated through the other's voice made the Contract Killer feel something he had not felt in an extremely long time.

Lust.

And each and every single whimper of pain that escaped the blue-eyed man's lips only helped further Slade's want.

"P-pleasure?!" Ollie gasped in an almost hysterical voice, struggling with the handcuffs that kept both his hands bound to the bedpost. "How can you find pleasure in this? This is rape!"

A third finger was inserted as soon as the last word left those lips, causing a yelp of pain to escape the already harrowed man.

"Please, Slade… I have a girlfriend. I've got two kids! Why would you be doing this now? Why me?"

And that was when a new feeling coursed through Slade's slightly clouded mind. He had rejoiced in the blonde's begging before. The feeling of power that had overcome him because of the pleas was something that he had not felt before. None of his past kills could ever compare with the power he now had over the once loud mouthed archer.

But as soon as he heard of the other's obligations he felt his blood boil. His movements became rougher and he was sure that the hand he had on Ollie's hip was bound to leave a rather nasty bruise.

Possession.

Later on, when with a clearer head and without a writhing blonde beneath him, Slade would completely understand just what had come over him the second he withdrew his fingers only to replace them with himself.

But now, as Ollie's screams became louder and his movements more erratic, Slade didn't particularly care for figuring out this new rush of feelings.

All he cared for was getting himself into that tight virgin hole.

~/~

His whole body ached. His hip now bore a handprint because of Slade's rough manner, there were bruises all around, and he was pretty sure that one of his ribs was broken. But the worst part was that he could still feel the other man on him. Ollie could feel his body being torn still by Slade's thick member and the way the older man's hands slid up and down his body.

The blonde had lost his track of time after the third time Slade amused himself with his body. He honestly had no idea what day it was or even how long it had been since he had last seen his kids.

But, even with all the pain he had been caused, he had to admit that Slade had spared no expenses in the room he was being kept in.

It was dark, of course, per what seemed to be the requirement for all villains that held heroes. But the bed he was on at the very moment was extremely soft, and there was a bathroom door to the right side of the room.

He was shackled to the bed by his right foot, but there was enough chain to allow him to go easily to the bathroom without much resistance.

And, as he caught himself thinking this, Ollie couldn't help but feel disgusted with himself.

Why wasn't he thinking up of a plan of escape? Why was he not creating a plan to stun Deathstroke and try and find a way to leave? Why was he instead thinking of how nice the psychopath had been in making sure he had accessibility to the bathroom?

"Ready for your starring role, Queen?"

The blonde gasped in sudden shock as the white haired man entered the room, eye patch in place as a sinister smirk grazed his lips.

Ollie immediately threw the sheets over his naked body and backed up to the headboard, even though he knew his pitiful attempt to retreat was futile. No matter how much he struggled, Slade would always take what he wanted. No matter what.

"Geez, Slade… Knock much?"

The frown sent his way was enough to let Ollie know he wasn't amused at all by his try at a joke.

Then Slade walked towards Ollie and sat down on the edge of the bed. With an unreadable face, his gloved hand found its way to Ollie's leg and began to rub at the spot above the shackle, all the while ignoring the tenseness in the other's body.

His tenderness caught the blonde completely off guard. Ollie's eyes were wide and scared as he stared at the older man, but Slade's one good eye was too busy raking over his bruised and scarred body.

"… I've got a proposition for you…"

This caught Ollie off guard, of course. But he was- unfortunately- intrigued.

"Please tell me that was all a dream... Just one horrible, terrible, completely forgettable bad dream..." Ollie sighed softly to himself, hand covering his face in shame and embarrassment.

Ollie now found himself standing in front of his home, Slade's heavy hand on his shoulder as the moon shone up in the sky.

"Unfortunately for you- yet fortunately for me- that was completely real. Every second of it. Every touch, every plea, every jolt of pain or pleasure..." Slade smirked underneath his mask, feeling proud of himself. "All of it completely happened."

Clearly, Slade was proud of what he had accomplished. Breaking a hero was not an easy feat to accomplish, not even with all of his years of experience had it been too simple. So knowing he had been able to finally shut up the loud mouthed archer was something he found himself completely proud of.

Now he turned Ollie to him, placing his hand on the blonde's chin to ensure he was looking directly at him. There were no superficial wounds on his face or hands, but the rest of his body was covered with a long sleeved shirt and normal pants, ensuring the rest of his wounds would not be found by the brats living under his roof.

"Now, you may go back to your normal life. But be prepared... Or else, the Justice League will be told of all your... adventures..."

The blonde cringed softly as the hand on his chin rubbed at his cheek, then closed his eyes tightly.

How he had allowed all of this to happen, he was not sure. But he was now stuck with this horrid and screwed up reality.

"Goodbye, Oliver. Until next time."

And in a flash of smoke, Deathstroke was gone and Ollie found himself alone in front of his mansion.

Well... Yeah... There we go. Something born out of the darkest depths of my mind. Please don't kill me.