ysabetwordsmith: (Schrodinger's Heroes)
[personal profile] ysabetwordsmith
This story fills a square on my card for the [community profile] kink_bingo fest. This fest encourages people to push the limits of their comfort zone by creating erotica, pr0n, smut, and other sexy stuff in the many flavors of kinky, sensual, and otherwise exotic activities. I'm hoping to attract some new readers for my writing.

The following story belongs to Schrodinger's Heroes, featuring an apocryphal television show supported by an imaginary fandom. It's science fiction about quantum physics and saving the world from alternate dimensions. It features a very mixed cast in terms of ethnicity and sexual orientation. This project developed with input from multiple people, and it's open for everyone to play in. You can read more about the background, the characters, and a bunch of assorted content on the menu page.


Fandoms: Original (Schrodinger's Heroes)
Kink: Smacking/slapping
Medium: Fiction
Summary/Preview: Ash and Luke discover an interest in slapping. This is not entirely welcome news.
Additional Information: No overtly sexual activity. Canonical asexual character (Ash). Canonical woman of color (Ash). Racism. Nonconsent/dubious consent. Sexual harassment. Awkward personal discoveries. Dubious use and interpretation of kink.


"The Red Hand"


Luke was bothering Ash again. It had started out as snide remarks and teasing. Then it had escalated to suggestive winks and nudges. Lately Luke had taken to asking her for a date. Ash wasn't sure whether he meant it seriously, in the sense that some white men felt entitled to everyone else's women; or whether he merely intended to humiliate her by standing her up. Her Wichita-Navajo heritage made her suspicious of people like Luke, and she'd met plenty of them. She had no intention of playing his game, whatever it was.

"He's your cousin," Ash complained to Chris. "Can't you get him to stop?"

Chris rolled his eyes. "I'm afraid stop isn't really Luke's thing."

That made Ash wonder if there was more to dislike about Luke than his leading role in the local Ku Klux Klan. Still, they needed supplies, and Waxahachie just wasn't that big of a town. That meant occasionally going within Luke's reach.

"You busy Friday night?" Luke asked outside the hardware store, sidling up to Ash.

"I'm writing some new code for the particle accelerator, so yes," Ash said. She'd tried hinting once that she could erase Luke's entire electronic existence. It turned out that the man didn't even have an email address.

"Sounds dull," Luke said. "Come out with me, and I'll show you a good time." His buddies snickered. Chris just groaned.

"I am not interested in dating at this time," Ash said. You couldn't say things like asexual to someone like Luke and have any chance of getting through his thick skull. You had to phrase it in a way he could understand.

"Aw, come on," Luke said. He trotted alongside as Ash stalked toward the pickup truck.

"Oh Lord, Luke, shut your big fat mouth," Chris muttered. "You're embarrassin' the whole family."

Luke swerved around in front of Ash and dropped to his knees, begging theatrically. "Please say you'll go out with me," he said. "Don't break my poor little heart!"

That just made Ash tilt her suspicion of his intent toward "stand her up." He was putting on too much of a show for his buddies.

Then Luke grabbed her ass to pull her toward him.

Ash hauled off and slapped him across the face as hard as she could, putting the full weight of her wood-chopping muscles behind the blow, hard enough to rock him to the side so that he had to catch himself with his hand. The sharp crack of it echoed across the parking lot.

Luke stared up at her, his blue eyes huge and glazed. Her handprint blazed to life on his cheek, vivid scarlet against his pale face.

Her palm tingled fiercely, as if she had caught hold of lightning. Ash curled her fingers into a fist, digging her fingernails into the prickling energy that crawled along her skin. Then, very deliberately, she opened her hand again.

Ash looked him in the eye and said, "If you ever touch me again, Luke, I will smack the tar out of you, and I will make you like it."

Luke gasped, his mouth falling open in shock. Ash could see his pupils dilate, betraying his interest. His hips twitched as he squirmed against the confining fabric of his jeans.

Luke would like it, Ash realized, and he had not known that until this very moment when her red hand knocked some sense into him. There was purple coming up under the crimson now, where the hard undersides of her knuckles had hit his cheekbone. She watched the emotions flicker across his face like fleeting cloud-shadows, discovery and desire and despair. He wanted it, but he could never have it. Luke would not dare to ask for it from any woman he actually dated, because it undermined his macho image too much. The knowledge alone was shattering.

It was like watching shards of glass fall out of a smashed window, Ash thought as she saw Luke's face fall. Crash. Tinkle. She supplied the sound effects in her own mind.

Luke bowed his head, got to his feet, and walked away without another word. His buddies followed him, confused but still loyal. Ash doubted that Luke would ever bother her again.

"I think you done broke my cousin, Ash," said Chris as they climbed into the pickup truck.

"Well, if he didn't want to get stepped on, he shouldn't have gotten in my way," she said. There was no point in denying the truth, though.

Ash scratched her fingernails against the hot, tingling skin of her palm. What she desired was a cruel and shameful thing. It wasn't the sort of thing she'd want to do to anyone she liked or respected, not the same slap-and-tickle fun that Kay indulged in with various friends. It was the sort of thing Ash turned on an enemy. She liked that her slap had hurt Luke far more deeply than a brief sting across his skin. It reminded her of how the Plains tribes counted coup by striking a living enemy, although there was little honor in what she had done. It was wicked to hit someone in a place where he had no defense, and then to revel in his pain. So no, she would not be bringing this into her bedroom.

But she would fantasize about it every time some bigot on television ran his overprivileged, whitewashed mouth.

(no subject)

Date: 2012-10-23 05:28 pm (UTC)
stardreamer: Meez headshot (Default)
From: [personal profile] stardreamer
although there was little honor in what she had done

I disagree. She didn't know what it was going to do, so honor doesn't enter into it. If she did it again, knowing, that would be problematic.

And I have to say that what happened here was probably the best outcome for all concerned. No one else will have seen anything but "he got grabby and she smacked him", but he knows, and it will inform every interaction he makes with women in the future, whether he admits it or not.

(no subject)

Date: 2012-10-23 07:28 pm (UTC)
technoshaman: (grinch)
From: [personal profile] technoshaman
*nods* agree...

And, holy relevance, Batman! The punchline does it again... not so much with the funny but with the *yes*... it's very much a victory for her, even more than it's a crushing defeat for him. Both will last a long time...

Re: Thoughts

Date: 2012-10-23 09:14 pm (UTC)
stardreamer: Meez headshot (Default)
From: [personal profile] stardreamer
Sometimes, with bullies, you have to speak their language.

There's an old tale about a farmer, a mule, and a 2x4. Bullies can be remarkably similar to mules, insofar as you have to get their attention first -- and sometimes subtlety just doesn't cut it.

I learned from my parents that with people who don't see you as a real person, "setting a good example" frequently fails because of the double standard; they expect to receive that behavior from you, but feel no obligation to give it in return because "that's different". At that point, you have to turn to other tools. And I think some of that dynamic was in play here.

I do wonder if, later, his buddies will openly wonder why he "backed down for a mud bitch" and start giving him shit about it. If he's been the ringleader, this incident could open up a serious crack in his support structure; vipers will turn on their own when there's no external enemy to be found.

I also sympathize with Ash's reaction of not wanting to be the kind of person who would like what happened, and of putting very strict limits on how she would allow herself to think about it. It reminds me of an incident that I don't want to discuss publicly, but would be willing to talk about in private if you're curious.

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