Disclaimer: Superjail!, all characters and settings, and anything else you would recognize as pertaining to this cartoon, does not belong to me. The plot itself belongs to me. I do not intend to make any money off the writing of this fan fiction; it is merely for entertainment purposes.

Title: A Little Fun.

Summary: The Warden has a "private" moment with a captured Mistress.

Pairings: The Warden/The Mistress, brief Jared/Cherice.

He tilted his glaringly purple top hat lower across his brow with a flick of his index finger and a decidedly vicious and self-satisfied smirk marred his face. He darted his tongue between the gap in his teeth habitually while he pondered the sight before him. He stapled his fingers together while he crossed his right ankle over the left atop his plain wooden desk. A muffled protest perked his ears, and his yellow-tinted eyes flitted back and forth between another set, which were shadowed by dark pink lenses. With a shift of his position, he finally decided to pay heed to the words that were almost impossible to discern through a classy strip of duct tape.

"Mistress," the Warden began with a wide smile, loving the situation they found themselves currently in, "it's so good to see you again. How are things?"

The Mistress narrowed her eyes dangerously at the pitiful man-child that dared to show her such poor respect. She struggled in place fruitlessly but still determined to keep her emotions in check. Her arms were painfully locked behind her back and bound heavily with horribly chafing rope, and her legs were bound, as well. She was perched on the edge of the Warden's desk like a doll, her chest arched uncomfortably due to the position of her arms. Though she knew the man could not understand anything she was screaming at him, she refused to give up her demands.

"Mmhmm, that's wonderful," the Warden dismissively told her, instead lowering his gaze to his ungloved hands. He picked aimlessly at his fingernails as if he had not a care in the world. He had all the time he wanted, so why would he choose to rush this beautiful experience? After all, it was not every day that he had his arch-nemesis laid out for him like a buffet. A curvy… gorgeous… erotic… He cleared his throat loudly to end his chain of thought, taking a subtle breath to calm himself.

With as much hate and fury as she could muster through her gaze, her eyes never wavered from his face, taking in every detail with disgust and loathing. She twisted her hands around, wincing at the bite of the rope when she tried to free herself. She attempted the same with her feet and was almost disheartened when the same end was reached.

"You're probably wondering why I have brought you here, Mistress," he purred, dropping his hands back into his lap abruptly. He coyly glanced up at her from beneath his lenses, immensely enjoying the sight. He took the angry lashing of her legs in his direction as permission to continue. "While I can assure you that your presence does, in fact, have a purpose, I can't tell you why."

The Mistress produced an angry sound from her throat. She hated him so much… When she had tiredly collapsed onto her bed that night after tending to her nightly workload, she had never expected to be awoken in this sort of fashion in… his prison. What of her duties? What of her inmates? She was panicking at the thought of not being in control. Being tied up for the Warden's amusement was indeed not soothing her at all.

Their moment of silence was interrupted by Jared, who entered without looking up from a small stack of papers he was holding and reading from. "Warden, I have terrible news about that…" He broke off, unable to believe his own eyes. The papers fluttered from his grasp while he rubbed his eye sockets with balled-up fists. Blinking rapidly, he began to hopefully seek out Cherice, but when he saw not a single red hair of the woman he adored, he returned his attention to the back of what appeared to be the Mistress.

She struggled anew, wondering if the voice that had come from behind her had belonged to whom she thought it did. Perhaps someone around here would free her from this madness.

"Warden!" Jared cried out, appalled. "What do you think you're doing to her?"

"Mm…" The Warden pretended to think. "…Nothing."

"Release her immediately! You can't keep a woman tied up like that!"

"Says who?" he narrowed his eyes at his accountant. "And where do you find the gall to order me around?"

Jared swallowed his nervousness, crossing his arms to outwardly display what courage he had difficulty finding within him when standing up to his employer. "Well… I j-just don't think this is right. Whatever you need to say to the Mistress can most likely be settled… i-in another way."

"I don't think so, Jared. She wouldn't stay quiet enough for me to get my point across, what with her enormous mouth and all." He covered his mouth to snicker, loving the rage that emanated from the woman. He noted the flush that covered her cheeks with glee. "Besides, doesn't she just look ravishing like this?"

The Mistress flushed further at his lecherous grin, feeling the warmth spread down her neck and to the tops of her breasts, which did not escape the purple-clad man's view due to her choice in clothing.

Jared sputtered incoherently for a moment, grabbing at fistfuls of his hair with agitation. "Ugh, this is completely insane! You should just return her safely to her own prison!"

"You talk too much!" the Warden snapped. "Just go do your 'accountant' things, Jared. I'll take care of our guest."

With a huff and a stomp of his foot, Jared exited the office. He fully intended to contact Ultraprison about this.

With the slam of the door, the woman's heart jumped into her throat. She didn't know how she would manage to get away from the insufferable jailor.

The Warden knew he couldn't delay much longer, seeing as how it was inevitable that his fun would be ruined, again, by one of the incompetents that worked below him. This annoyed him a fair bit because he hadn't planned on rushing this encounter. His polished black boots dropped to the ground solidly, and he scooted his chair closer to the desk and the woman atop it. He regarded her through half-lidded eyes, biting his lower lip with barely-restrained excitement.

The Mistress uneasily shifted her weight onto the other side of her body, feeling her backside becoming numb. Her eyes darted away from the Warden's intense gaze and out the multiple windows that encompassed the office they were in. Surely Cherice would be looking for her now. There weren't many who would be stupid enough to capture her, and her assistant knew this. She was smart—she'd make the connection sooner or later.

Finally coming to the conclusion that he wanted to hear that smooth, sultry tone, he reached up, watching her suspicious eyes snap to his while he did. His fingers dipped under the strip of duct tape and tugged at it. With a quick gesture, he ripped the tape from the Mistress's plump lips and delighted in the shriek that accompanied it.

"WARDEN!" the Mistress screeched, furious, "Let me out of here now! How dare you bring me here—in your pitiful shackles, no less! You will know true suffering when I get out of here, and I won't rest until I am satisfied with my revenge, you delusional little man-child!"

He lazily smirked at her, allowing her to rant to her heart's content. "Is that all? My, my, you are getting predictable. It's not like I haven't heard these same words from you before."

She nearly steamed at the ears due to her frustration. "Release me."

"Or what?" he shot back at her, clearly not intimidated by her seemingly empty threats.

"I just told you."

"I'm sorry, I didn't really understand what you were insinuating." He chuckled darkly, greatly amused while teasing her unrelentlessly. She was so fiery and passionate. He found it incredibly sexy.

"Of course not. While the rest of us evolve into higher forms of human, you find yourself devolving at a much faster rate. It's only natural that your understanding of basic communication skills begin to lack." She looked down at him, raising her chin defiantly.

With a roll of his eyes, the Warden waved his hand at her. "Just because you are too dry and dull to do nothing but read the dictionary when you aren't working…"

"Oh, so you are having trouble understanding me. Well, I'll have you know that while I am not reading the dictionary, as you say, I am much too busy running a prison that is far more superior to your own. I imagine that you are so shaken up by your feelings of shame and bitterness at having been so utterly defeated in every way that you felt the ridiculous need to abduct me from my sleeping quarters while I was defenseless so you could sit here and watch me lose circulation in my limbs."

The Warden growled in approval. "That's it, continue insulting me. You wouldn't be desperately trying to make me feel so insecure about myself if you weren't already harboring these feelings of insecurity. Do you really think I care so much about topping you in any way possible?"

"Naturally."

He laughed at her quick-as-a-whip retort. "Okay, I'll give you that. But why would I care if I already have you beat? My prison is far superior."

She curled her lip in disgust. "I refuse to argue back and forth pointlessly about this. I know where I stand and where you kneel."

"Mmm, I won't be the one doing the kneeling, I assure you," he responded playfully.

The Mistress gasped at his crudity. "How dare you—!"

"I can't enjoy my spoils of war?" he inquired curiously, his bare fingers trailing suggestively up his prize's soft, warm thigh.

"There is no war!" she yelled, kicking her legs out to dislodge the wandering fingers.

"There has always been a war since the moment you thought to copy my idea of making a 'super' prison."

The Mistress felt a headache forming. She was tired, hungry, and aching all over. She was fed up with the smug man and everything that came out of his mouth. "Look, just let me go. There is no reason for me to be here anymore. I think you've made your point quite clearly, however incredulous it may be."

"I'll let you go when I'm done with you."

"When will that be?" she spat.

The Warden smiled mysteriously and rose to his feet so he could tower over her. He leaned forward to inhale her seductive scent and shuddered in arousal, noting her sharp intake of breath. She always produced this kind of reaction from him, ever since he first had sex with her so long ago. He thought about it so often that he had resorted to pleasuring himself with what little he remembered about her that night.

He buried his nose in her black, shiny hair, bumping his glasses against hers. He let out a small groan of approval, feeling the rush of blood to his lower body. One hand slid up her side and stopped just below the swell of her breast. The other tangled in her hair and lifted her face so he could stare into her eyes, which were wide and unsure.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

Instead of replying with words, the Warden replied with an action that he thought would suffice. His mouth crashed onto hers, slowly savoring the feel of her lips upon his own. He brushed her upper lip with his tongue, angling his face so that he could fully enjoy her. She was unresponsive, shocked out of her mind at his audacity.

The Warden continued pressing small kisses onto her pretty mouth, his thumb daring to stroke the underside of her breast, which ripped a muffled protest from the woman. He took the opportunity to penetrate her mouth with his tongue, humming in satisfaction. His pants were so tight, and he had hardly touched her yet. This beauty was intoxicating.

The Mistress was flabbergasted at the turn of events. She felt completely helpless under her rival's persistent, yet gentle, mouth. She didn't want to kiss him back and show that she actually wanted him—because she didn't. She didn't want the Warden, and his pathetic groping and kissing was doing nothing for her. That is what she told herself over and over again, anyway.

He moaned in appreciation at the kiss when he finally ended it. He broke apart from her, licking the lingering saliva from his lips. They locked eyes.

"You taste incredible," he told her in a low murmur. "I can only imagine how…"

"S-stop right there," she stuttered, red staining her cheeks and breasts in a heavy blush. Her breathing was labored, and she panted lightly. She managed a glare. "I won't allow this to continue any further. What you are doing is highly inappropriate."

"Maybe so, but it's fun." He grinned. He traced the shine of saliva on her frowning lips with his eyes.

She rolled her eyes haughtily. "You only ever think about amusing yourself. The concept of any form of seriousness is beyond your grasp."

"You need to have more fun."

A scoff of disbelief escaped her. "Your idea of fun is quite different from my own."

"Really? I can test that, you know."

The Mistress's heart began to beat a little faster in her anxiousness. "No, you can't. I will not participate in any of your inane attempts."

"I don't need your consent," he told her, his hand creeping down to her inner thigh. "There are ways of telling just how much you are enjoying this."

She gaped at him, squeezing her legs together. "You scoundrel! You're no better than the criminals you keep here!"

"I want your consent," he continued, his hand unmoving on her sweaty flesh. "I don't want to be the only one having fun."

The Mistress bit her lip and turned her face away stubbornly. She could have burned a hole through the glass of the window with the intensity of her stare. If he knew just how affected she was by his flirtations, he would tease her mercilessly. It was unbearable to think of. She felt messy and uncomfortably warm, but she was unwavering in her determination to remain an unfeeling, undesirable statue.

The Warden studied her from top to bottom and back again while she pretended to ignore him. He had never known someone to be so tenacious. He wouldn't allow her to discourage him, though. He fully intended to explore his feelings deeper, and he would receive cooperation. With his index finger and thumb, he pulled her chin towards his own and closed his eyes. Their lips met briefly. He wanted so desperately to release her from her bindings, but he knew that she would make things harder until he was sure that she wanted him, too. Instead, he sat down in his chair and pulled her down onto his lap.

She winced at the abrupt change and the soreness of her arms and legs. She could feel his erection pressing against her thighs which were draped over the arm of his chair. It brought back her hazy memory of that night they had shared together. She remembered the pure ecstasy she had felt when he touched and kissed her deeply, though she was sure that he couldn't have been that good. It brought heat back to her face and a wave of lust oozing through her. She wiggled slightly, brushing against the front of his pants. She was unable to stop herself and watched as he groaned softly.

He moved forward and buried his lips into the flesh of her neck, raking his teeth against it and soothing it with his tongue simultaneously. His mouth closed around a particular patch of skin and lightly sucked on it, hoping to produce a mark of ownership upon her flawless complexion. The hand that wasn't supporting her precarious position on his lap stroked her breast, cupping it boldly.

The Mistress couldn't bite back her moan, especially when his fingers became very daring with where they were exploring. "Warden," she murmured breathlessly.

His ears perked up at her sultry voice. He hurriedly undid her bindings and slammed her down on her back atop his desk, unable to control himself anymore and not giving her any time to react. Her eyes widened up at the imposing figure above her, and she felt her legs being pried apart. Her protests died as soon as they were formed on the tip of her tongue.

He surged forward and ground his clothed erection against her considerably damp crotch. A strangled moan followed.

Neither of them paid heed to the sound of the office door being opened, and neither cared enough to stop grinding together when they were obviously caught by a heavily disturbed Jared and a bright red Cherice. They observed the writhing, slick tongues that curled around each other and the way the Warden thrust his hips eagerly between the Mistress's widely spread legs.

The two of them escaped the room once their thought processes started up again, safely closing the door behind them with a quiet click.

"U-uhm… Jared, I thought you s-said she was in t-trouble," Cherice squeaked, heavily embarrassed and feeling ashamed at what she had witnessed.

"She w-was," he stuttered back, thinking back to how shortly beforehand, the Mistress was tied up and very unwilling to be there. The Warden must be very persuasive, he mused to himself. They stood motionless with their backs to the door for several moments before they found the courage to speak again.

"Anyway…" Cherice trailed off, fanning herself with one hand and glancing at Jared, "…it's n-nice to see you again."

Jared smiled in affection at the way she lovingly stared at him. He cautiously reached a hand out to stroke her cheek. A loud moan of "Warden!" and the sound of wood banging against the ground promptly ruined the moment.

Jared cursed under his breath and watched Cherice squeak again and rush off. If the Warden was having fun, he wasn't allowed to.