TC Stark: Hello, hello! So, I tried desperately not to fall in love with Bane's character in TDKR. I wasn't very aware of him before the movie and thought it may have been a little sick of me to become intrigued with a man who wears a mask. Then again I drooled over Heath Ledger's Joke and he had scars on his face. And come on, who can resist Tom Hardy's body? So, now I want to jump into the Bane pool. I will say that my Crane/OC story Limerence is my main story now, since I'm so invested in the story line and characters. But, I will try to update this just as frequently since I hate when you really like a story and must wait too long for an update! I do hope you enjoy my OC, she might seem a tad timid. I'm playing with the idea and it works out in my head. I don't view Bane as cuddly or anything of the sort so this is definitely a dark story with very adult themes. You've been warned. Okay, enough blabbing!
Disclaimer: I only own my OC and in no way make a profit off this! By this way, this takes place during the movie while straying away slightly.
"The man is running that business into the ground, without even leaving his house. Soon Wayne Enterprises will belong to me."
John Daggett felt good. Another meeting at Wayne Enterprises. The company that Bruce Wayne's parents built was slowly crumbling. All because he invested in Miranda Tate's clean energy project. Soon after finding out that the core could be modified into a bomb, the project was shut down. After that, everything soon began swirling down the toilet. The man really was paranoid. Who would be stupid enough to blow up Gotham with themselves in it?
Still, this all meant glory for Daggett. With Bruce becoming a hermit and the board worrying about their future, it seemed it was no better time for John to take over the company. With him as the head, he would have the city eating out of the palm of his hand. After years of watching Bruce flaunt his riches, John would have the opportunity to do the same.
Of course he was talking to Stryver, his right hand man. John promised the man riches to stay by his side. With Bruce staying reclusive for years and John hiring a special friend, there was no way the company wouldn't be his. He was feeling so arrogant that the moment the two men returned to his office, he immediately opened a bottle of good scotch.
Stryver took a small sip of the alcoholic beverage, as John sat down in his large office chair, "I mean how stupid is Bruce? He's just letting the company go to shits. Its because he's a brat. The only reason he's even the head of the company is because of his parents. You think that man could have built up a company without help?" Without letting the other man reply, John answered, "Absolutely not."
"Will we even need...you know?" Stryver asked cautiously.
Shrugging, John waved off, "Couldn't hurt," After another sip of Scotch, he pressed the small button on an intercom, "Ms. Carter, my office."
"Yes, Mr. Daggett."
Without skipping a beat, the older businessman leaned back into his chair, "I feel great. I cannot wait to have the company in the palm of my hands! Stryver, get me a cigar!"
With a quick nod, Stryver quickly scurried out before another figure entered the room, "Leyla, pour some yourself a drink."
"I'm fine, Mr. Daggett," She spoke softly, "Are we celebrating?"
Leyla Carter. Daggett's assistant for the past four years. She was a young girl in her mid-twenties of average height and simple features. Very light skin, pale even. Raven straight black hair pulled into a tall bun and bangs that went straight across her forehead. A small nose and a small chin. A thin body with nice sized shoulders and a small chest. Though a nice waist and an average sized bottom for her small frame.
Nothing really stood out. A pair of small diamond earrings decorated her ears and a thin ring wrapped around her right thumb. If anyone looked close enough, they would see a tiny scar, but no one did. She wore white blouse, with a pencil straight gray skirt and a matching buttoned up blazer with short puff sleeves. Black stockings and matching black flats. Her only real noticeable feature was the striking blue eyes amplified by black mascara.
John took another sip of Scotch before animatedly pointing, "You bet your ass! Hold your breath, Leyla, cause soon Wayne Enterprises will be mine."
Holding her clear polished hands in front, Leyla gently cleared her throat, "I do feel bad for Mr. Wayne."
"Don't," John was quick to wave this notion off, "Its his own damn fault for letting his family's company go to shit."
Leyla shifted a tad uncomfortably. Her boss was always so animated and loud. He may have viewed this take down as victory, but she was saddened. Being John's assistant for four years had allowed her to accompany him to a few meetings. Her first few weeks on the job had been some of the last sightings of Bruce Wayne and she had always viewed him as a nice man. It was sad to think the only thing left of his family was disintegrating.
Leyla's eyes flicked up and noticed John had practically gulped all of his Scotch down. A good brand not truly enjoyed. She wouldn't voice this opinion. Rather she stayed still. Shy. Submissive. Her body didn't move. There was no swaying or fidgeting. No foot tap. No weight adjusting from foot to foot. Only the blinking of her eyes, which were staring downwards.
"Close the door."
At this, her gaze flicked up to star into his eyes. She knew that look. It was something she had seen so many times before. A look she had learned to accept, yet hate at the same time. Yet, she would show no emotion. No hate, no sorrow. Only acceptance and submissiveness. He was her boss and she was to do whatever he said.
The assistant turned and gingerly closed the door, as her boss rambled on. It all fell upon deaf ears. Neither of them cared whether or not she paid attention. He was really just talking to himself. Anyone who knew John Daggett well enough, knew that the man would be comfortable speaking to a brick wall.
As he rambled on some more, Leyla's fingers began to undo the large buttons of her blazer. In the beginning, her fingers use to tremble. Her heart use to palpitate. There was none of that anymore. She didn't even question the situation. In fact, she didn't think or feel at all.
"I've waited years for this moment and it feels better than I thought it would."
Leyla only gave a small nod, as she undid her white blouse. Soon it decorated the floor along with her blazer. The pale skin that originally looked very plain, told a different story once her top was off. Her torso seemed to be decorated by a series of tiny scars. Some were wider than others, though most were pale in color. All except a large red scar that ran down her left rib cage.
She refused to look down at her body. Too ashamed of her deformities. Rather, she concentrated on her shoes, while reaching back and unclipping the white bra. Her breasts were small and probably didn't need to be held up, but a bra made her feel more like a woman. The scar that ran along her ribcage reached up onto her breast, though didn't change the shape. John always said her behind made up for her lack of a chest.
By now John had stopped talking. Leyla didn't have the best body he'd ever seen. Her frame was thin, her ribs slightly showed. Her breasts were small and no one could overlook all the unwanted scars that decorated her body. But, she had such a fine ass and what older man could resist his younger assistant?
The silence in the air made the situation all the more uncomfortable. Her breath was held in the back of her throat, as she unzipped her skirt and let it fall. Then her underwear. She kept her thigh high stockings on. John liked that. Her void was shaven and there was another rather large scar that cut across her mound and curved up onto her hip bone.
Once exposed, Leyla waited. Like so many times before. Her body was stiff and her eyes were still on the ground. Not wanting to see the lust in John's eyes. A final gulp of Scotch and he was out of his chair, slowly walking towards her. The only good thing about the situation, was that he never made references towards her scars. As long as the body part he needed was able to work, there was no need to complain.
John circled around her, stopping directly behind her body. Snorting, he commented, "Your father would have hated this."
She knew what he was referring to. It wasn't hard to notice the large Fairy tattoo that took up most of her back. It would have been beautiful if it weren't for several large scars running through it. Without those, a gorgeous mythological fairy with long blue hair and pastel pink wings decorated her skin.
Upon mention of her father, Leyla bit her lower lip and whispered, "I know."
"What a shame. It could have all been avoided."
His words stung deep, causing a pang of emotion to run through her body. Not wanting to relive the past, Leyla began to bend forward until her hand reached his desk. Like so many times before. It should have been an awkward situation. An uncomfortable one. But, she felt nothing.
That was until John Daggett plunged deep inside her. Then Leyla winced slightly. He wasn't large and this wasn't the first time, but there was no arousal. Every time the assistant needed to become use to having her unwilling void stretched open. After a couple of pushes, her body knew to wet itself so that the experience wasn't unbearable.
This wasn't meant to please her. It wasn't mean to get her off. Her main purpose in this was to stay still and let her boss enjoy himself. Sometimes she closed her eyes and attempted to drift off into another state of mind. Other times her eyes fixed on the papers on John's desk. She thought about all the work she would have afterwards and know there was a good chance she'd have to stay later.
John's fingers dug in deeper, adding to the uncomfortable feeling. His hands gripped onto her hips and banged hard within her. Their skins slapped against each other, causing Leyla to wince. The bouncing motions of his bucks irritated her brain, each thrust making her dizzy.
Leyla gripped onto the edges of the desk, John's thrusts becoming faster. Harder. He was close. He never lasted long. Perhaps if she were in an enjoyable session of sex, this would have been disappointing. Becoming saddened, she remembered that she was only for him. She owed him. Still, his low stamina was a God send.
With one final thrust, John was finished. Leyla gave out a slight shudder as his warm liquid filled her. One of his fetishes. That and he didn't want to dirty his carpet. In the beginning she wondered what it would be like to be intimate with a man who loved her. Who after sex would kiss her and simply lay in bed with her.
That kind of thinking went out the window years ago.
John was straightening his tie, as Leyla began to pull her clothes back on, "Listen, I don't want to be fucking bothered. Go back to your desk. I don't want any calls or visitors. I'm going to sit here and enjoy my Scotch for the next hour and go home," He then glanced over at her behind as she bent down and picked up her skirt, "You can leave in an hour as well."
It was then that Leyla stood up straight, blinking her bright blue eyes, "Thank you." He must have been in a fantastic mood.
It had been a half hour since Leyla's quickie in John's office. Since then her boss had his cigar and she had cleaned herself up. After that, everything went back to normal. She took her place at the receptionist desk and fiddled on the computer. There was the smallest smile on her lips. It was nice that she would be able to go home early that day.
"Mr. Daggett, please."
While Leyla's head was down, writing some notes on a few expense reports; someone had stepped through the lovely revolving doors. A soft spoken man had addressed her, though she kept her head down. She was very happy at the prospect of going home early. She wouldn't do anything exciting, but it was still a change.
"I'm so sorry, sir, but Mr. Daggett isn't taking visitors today. May I take a message?"
"Then perhaps we should kill you. Would Mr. Daggett have time to meet with us then?"
The chilling sound of a mechanical voice was enough to freeze Leyla. Her hand froze and her pen fell. Slowly lifting her head, she looked upon the man who addressed her. The other two men were dwarfed by this giant. Tall and very built. Bald and wearing a large fur coat along with what looked like some sort of vest that a member of the SWAT team would wear.
What was most noticeable was the mask that encased his mouth. Every breath he took let out a heavy hiss and she wondered if the mask had a purpose or was just meant to scare others. Leyla's breathing stopped. She hoped that this wasn't the man that John had hired to help his take down of Wayne Enterprises.
Leyla's mouth moved up and down a few times, before words actually came out, "I-I am…s-so sorry. Let me get him now."
Bane watched as the timid girl jumped out of her seat and ran towards John's office. He casually followed after her, his hands gripping the top of his vest. It was obvious how scared the girl was, her hand having a hard time turning the knob to her boss's office, "I thought I said no visitors."
"Then perhaps you don't need my service."
Upon seeing who was there to pay him a visit, John's demeanor instantly picked up as he stood from his chair. Motioning towards the monstrous man with his hand, Daggett exclaimed, "Bane! The man!" He then turned to Leyla, "This is Bane, the man whose going to help me take down Wayne Enterprises."
Leyla's eyes shifted over nervously, as John continued, "My assistant; Leyla Carter."
"I do not wish to discuss business matters in front of the lady." Bane's mechanical voice stated, his eyes not leaving Daggett's.
Scoffing, John waved off, "Don't pay attention to her. Come on, sit down. I am so excite-"
"Did you not hear what I said?"
John's lips opened, offended at being reprimanded in his own office. Before he was able to say anything, though; Leyla murmured, "It's quite fine, Mr. Daggett, I'll leave."
Making sure not to lock eyes with the behemoth man, Leyla scurried out of the office and back to her own desk. Bane's eyes however were locked on the assistant, until she left his sight. Turning back to the smaller man, he stated, "Clever girl."
"She does whatever I tell her to," John state smugly, before motioning to his office, "Let's talk."