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Her Reality	By : Kallie Category: -Misc Video Games/RPGs > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 3548 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Overwatch nor any of the characters, nor do I make any money or profit from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Her Reality
- 1
    Symmetra sat, cross-legged, in the precise centre of her bed. The hotel room the Vishkar Corporation had booked for her was very nice. Very neat. Symmetra could picture every detail of it, even with her eyes closed. Vishkar knew her needs, and with their riches China was no different to anywhere else. In here, anyway. Down on the streets it was so busy, so disorganised. It reminded her of home, and not in a good way. She preferred to remain in her hotel room, her private sanctuary, where she could concentrate on her designs.
   A knock at the door disturbed Symmetra’s thoughts. Her mouth tightened into a thin frown. She hated interruptions, and she had left very precise instructions with the hotel staff. There should not have been any maid service. Symmetra stood up, and crossed the floor to the door. She looked through the peephole, and found herself staring right at Lena Oxton - Tracer - still dressed in her pilot’s jumpsuit.
   “Can I come in?” Tracer chirped, the moment Symmetra opened the door. Symmetra took a step back from the doorway, and Tracer rushed in. “Cheers love. Cor, nice place! Vishkar takes care of you, eh?”
   “Can I help you?” Symmetra asked, tiredly. She always found the young, excitable British girl so draining to be around. They had been brought together on a mission, to repel a Talon attack on Lijang Tower. A rare alignment between Vishkar’s interests and Overwatch’s. Tracer had been far from professional. Her ceaseless energy and relentless cheerfulness got on Symmetra’s nerves.
   “Just here for a chat, love.”
   “A… chat?”
   “That’s right.” Tracer skipped over to a chair, and dragged it next to the bed. Symmetra’s jaw twitched in annoyance. “I just wanted to talk to you. Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
   “I was working.” Symmetra sat back down on the double-bed.
   “Working?” Tracer peered around the room. “I don’t see any-”
   “In my head.” Symmetra tapped her forehead, hoping the foolish girl would get the message. “I don’t need paper. I design things in my head. I’m an architect.”
   “That’s amazing!” Tracer leaned forward, seeming genuinely enthused. “You mean, like, buildings and stuff? Wow!”
   “What,” Symmetra insisted, “Did you want to chat about?”
   “Er… you.” Tracer looked a bit bashful. “I wanted to get to know you. That’s all.”
   “Why?” Symmetra demanded.
   “Why?” Tracer seemed taken aback by Symmetra’s bluntness. But Symmetra wasn’t one for tact. “Well, because… I thought you might be lonely. Me and Winston and Mercy, we all went out for drink after the mission. But you didn’t want to come. That seemed a bit sad, I guess.”
   “Hmm?” This was a surprise. Symmetra had no interest in filling her body with liquor at some Chinese dive bar. And she had no interest in making friends with Tracer. “No. Please leave.”
   “Oh no, I’m not going anywhere. Not until we have a nice little chat. I really want to get to know you.” Symmetra’s patience reached its end, and she tried to grab Tracer by the arm so she could drag her out. But that strange device on Tracer’s chest came to life with a blue glow, and Tracer teleported across the room, out of Symmetra’s reach. “And believe me, I can be really, really annoying if I want to be. Just ask Winston.”
   “Fine.” Symmetra sighed. It was clear that just talking to this girl was the quickest way to get her out of her hair. “We’ll chat. But please, move that chair back over there.”
   “Sorry?” Tracer was nonplussed.
   “The chair. Please put it back where you found it.” Tracer just stared at her. “This is my room. I need it to be just how I want it. I can’t relax until you put that chair back in its place.”
   “Oh. Yeah, sorry.” Tracer hurriedly replaced the chair. Symmetra was glad of that, but she was less glad when Tracer sat down next to her, on the bed. There were a few moments of awkward silence, until Symmetra beckoned for Tracer to proceed with her conversation.
   “Erm… where are you from?”
   “Hyderabad. India,” Symmetra answered brusquely. “And you?”
   “London, of course!” Tracer grasped around for another question. “Hey, can I call you Satya?”
   “I suppose.” Symmetra sighed. “Look, Tracer.”
   “Call me Lena,” Tracer interrupted.
   “Lena. I don’t know what you want from me, but you’re not going to get it. I’m just not good at all this.”
   “Don’t be silly!” Tracer leaned into Symmetra. “I really, really want to get to know you! I want to be friends!”
   “Oh,” was all Symmetra felt able to say. Tracer’s enthusiasm was hard to face down. “Fine. Ask away.”
   “How… how’s your family?” It was painfully obvious to Symmetra that Tracer didn’t really know what to say.
   “I don’t know. I grew up alone, in the slums. Until Vishkar found me.” It annoyed Symmetra, the way Tracer’s expression contorted into pity. Symmetra felt no sadness for whatever she had lost. How could she?
   “Satya, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Symmetra’s heart skipped a beat when she saw that Tracer had tears in her eyes.
   “Thank you,” Symmetra said, grateful despite herself.
   “Have you got many friends?” Tracer asked, when she had recovered her composure. “Back in India?”
   “I know some people, back at Vishkar’s headquarters. Some of them are quite adequate.”
   “Okay, no friends,” Tracer murmured, more to herself than to Symmetra. “Do you have, maybe, a boyfriend?”
   “No.”
   “A girlfriend, then?” Strange. To Symmetra, Tracer looked almost hopeful. But then, she wasn’t good with people.
   “No. Nothing.”
   “Aww, I’m sorry love. But you’ll find another one soon, I’m sure. You’re really pretty!”
   “I’m…” Symmetra didn’t know what to say to that. She was pretty? Symmetra didn’t know how people could be pretty. She knew how buildings could be pretty. They could match her designs, with their perfect angles and dimensions. Humans were so… imperfect. “You misunderstand. There can’t be any ‘another one.’ I’ve never had one.”
   “You’ve never had a boyfriend or a girlfriend?” Tracer’s eyes widened, astonished.
   “No.”
   “So…” All of sudden, Tracer looked mischievous. This girl was as changeable as the wind. “Does that mean you’ve never…”
   “Never what?”
   “You know. Done it.”
   “Done what? Oh…” Really, Tracer could be so foolish with her words. “Yes. I have. Just once.”
   “Blimey!” Tracer’s eyes were wide. She seemed very, very interested. Symmetra couldn’t fathom why. “How did that go? If you, er, don’t mind my asking.”
   “It was a couple of years ago now.” Symmetra didn’t mind. She didn’t understand why people got so fussy about intercourse. It was a simple biological function. “It came to my attention that having sex was something expected of an adult. I became curious. I sought out a young man who was willing. It was not an experience I am eager to repeat.”
   “Ah, well, that’s men for you.” Tracer patted Symmetra on the arm sympathetically. “But aren’t you… curious? About what it could be like, I mean. If it was good.”
   “No, I am not. Other people engage in sex because of their biological urges. I am not like that. I am different. Sex is messy and uncomfortable and awkward, and I have no interest in it.”
   Symmetra was being completely truthful. She had never felt any the feelings that people boasted about in pop songs. She had long since resigned herself to being fundamentally different to other people. Sex was just one of those differences. One of those things about ordinary people Symmetra just couldn’t understand. Just like she couldn’t understand the way Tracer was looking at her now. The British girl had curiosity in her face, but also something else as well. Something Symmetra couldn’t read.
   “It doesn’t have to be, you know.” Tracer began, slowly. “It can be good. Sod that, it can be amazing. Believe me, I know.”
   “Trace- Lena.” Symmetra wasn’t so ignorant she couldn’t tell what was coming. “Are you offering to have sex with me?”
   “Er… yeah, I suppose so.” Tracer blushed and giggled. “Crikey, love, you don’t beat about the bush, do you?”
   “No.” Symmetra had no idea what that meant. Some British idiom, no doubt. But there were many, many more thoughts than that running through her head. Questions, too. She hardly knew where to start. “But don’t you… I remember you saying something to Winston. You have someone, back in England. Emily, I think.”
   “Emily?” Tracer just smiled at her. “Don’t worry. We’ve got a pretty… flexible arrangement.”
   “I see.” Symmetra was still burning with questions. She thought for a moment. One question dominated the others. “Why? Why do you want to have sex with me? What’s in it for you?”
   “Are you joking, love?” Tracer laughed. “Just look at yourself.”
   “What?” Symmetra looked down at herself. She wasn’t sure what she was meant to see. She was dressed in her usual outfit - a long, form-fitting cyan robe, falling down between her legs and leaving her thighs exposed. What was strange about that? She had the same dark skin as always, the same long hair, the same cybernetic arm. She looked at Tracer quizzically.
   “Love.” Tracer rolled her eyes. “You’re bloody gorgeous.”
   “Is… that right?” Symmetra was embarrassed to feel herself blushing fiercely. She looked down. Was she? Symmetra had no idea.
   “Do you want to have sex with me?” Tracer asked. She sprung up from her seat and struck a pose, turning her back to Symmetra and extending her athletic legs. She stared at the wall for a moment, then turned her head around and winked at Symmetra. “Not to boast, but I’m pretty confident in myself. But hey, if you don’t swing that way…”
   “It’s not that,” Symmetra said, rather quicker than she had intended. She had to admit to herself, Tracer was beautiful. The girl’s tight jumpsuit magnificently emphasised the pleasing curves and lines of her legs and her backside. Even earlier, on the mission, Symmetra had found her gaze often drawn to her. She had told herself it was nothing more than an architect’s disinterested, aesthetic appreciation. But what if… “No, no, it wouldn’t work.” Symmetra took a deep breathe, to calm herself. She had to think rationally about this. “Lena, I appreciate what you are trying to do. But it isn’t going to work. I cannot do this. I don’t think I can handle us, crawling over each other, poking at each other. I’m sorry. I’m… not built for it.”
   “Oh. Right.” Tracer flopped back onto the bed, deflated. Symmetra felt guilty, seeing how disheartened the girl was, but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything. An awkward silence fell over them, lasting what felt like a long time. But then, without warning, Tracer perked up and leapt to her feet. “But what if it doesn’t have to be like that?”
   “What do you mean?” Symmetra’s eyes narrowed.
   “Have you ever heard of bondage?” When Symmetra looked nonplussed, Tracer cast about the room, and eyes landed on the chair she had reacher for earlier. “Let me show you.” She reached for the chair, but paused once she remembered Symmetra’s earlier reaction. “Is it OK if I move this?”
   “Yes.” Symmetra nodded. She was prepared, now, for the order of the room to be disrupted. Besides, despite herself she was curious to see what Tracer had in mind for her.
   “Thank you,” Tracer replied, with a certain solemnity. She pulled the chair into the middle of the room, so it was directly facing Symmetra, still sat on the bed. Tracer at down in the chair, folded her hands neatly in her lap, and looked at Symmetra expectantly.
   “What happens now?” Symmetra asked, when she realised Tracer was waiting for her to do something.
   “Now,” Tracer replied, a cheeky look in her eye. “You can do whatever you want to me. Or you can tell me to do it, if you want.”
   “I don’t think I understand,” Symmetra said, but she was starting to.
   “You’re an architect, right?” Tracer wore a look of intense satisfaction. She leaned back, presenting her body Symmetra’s gaze. “Treat me like one of your designs.”
   With that, something deep inside of Symmetra came alive. Possibilities danced before her mind’s eye, and she could hardly make sense of them. She felt dizzy. “I… don’t know where to begin.”
   “You could start by telling me to take my kit off.” Tracer flashed another cheeky smile. Symmetra was starting to like that expression.
   “Yes,” Symmetra breathed.
   “No.” Tracer shook her head, remaining coy. “Not like that. You need to say it. Order me.”
   All of a sudden, Symmetra found herself breathing hard. She tried to relax, but couldn’t. This was all too fast. Her first instinct was to tell Tracer to leave, so she could regroup and ruminate. But she couldn’t bear the thought of saying ‘no’ to what was in front of her. So she summoned up her courage, and said: “Take your clothes off.”
   “Yes, Satya,” Tracer intoned, and the words send a strange chill across Symmetra’s body.
   Tracer stood up slowly. She started off by slipping off her thick, brown gloves. She let each one drop to the floor, forgotten. Next, she loosened the straps keeping her chronal accelerator in place, and carefully set the device down on the floor. Each of her movements was slow, deliberate and seductive. Symmetra felt herself leaning forward for a closer look, and gulped when Tracer winked at her. Next, Tracer unfastened her bomber jacket and pulled her arms out of it, one at a time. Now, she was dressed only in her jumpsuit. She looked practically naked already. The British girl took hold of the zipper in one hand and, inch by inch, unzipped herself. Symmetra tried, and failed, to control her audible panting. Once the jumpsuit was completely undone, Tracer paused and looked at Symmetra. How could this girl tease her like this? Symmetra wanted to grab her, to pull the jumpsuit off with her own two hands - but she didn’t need to. Still seated, Tracer slipped her arms out of the jumpsuit and let it fall onto the chair, so that only her lower half was still covered. Symmetra drank in the sight of the Overwatch hero, arms and navel fully exposed, and her breasts covered only with a lace bra. Symmetra gulped again.
   “Is this enough, Satya?” Tracer asked, provocatively. Her voice was music.
   “No,” Symmetra whispered quickly.
   “What’s that love?” Tracer mockingly turned her head and cupped one hand around her ear.
   “No,” Symmetra said, more forcefully this time. Her voice came more commanding than she had expected. “Take that off. Take it all off.”
   “Yes, Satya.” Symmetra was drawn to the unexpected submissiveness in Tracer’s voice.
   The British girl rose to her feet, taking the time to make sure Symmetra was looking over her whole body. Reaching down, Tracer peeled off her jumpsuit, exposing her smooth, exquisitely-formed legs inch by inch. Once she was done Tracer was left with nothing but her bra and panties on, and Symmetra’s eyes were starting to water from the staring. Tracer paused, just long enough make Symmetra ache with longing, and then reached behind herself to unclasp her bra. She let it fall to the ground, just like the jumpsuit, exposing her small but pert breasts. Immediately, Symmetra’s gaze fixed on Tracer’s dark nipples, hardening from the cool air. Tracer smirked, but the performance did end there. Bending at the waist, Tracer slipped off her panties and casually flicked them over to the far side of the room. Finally divested of all her garments, Tracer faced Symmetra directly on, quite unconcerned for her nakedness, and let the Indian woman inspect her all over. Tracer then deliberately turned around 360’, making sure Symmetra could see every part of her. After that, she sank back into the chair.
   “What next?” Tracer said, simply.
   “I…” Symmetra’s mouth was dry. “I don’t know. What does come next?”
   “Well.” Tracer smiled, eagerly. “I think next, you should tie me up.”
   “With what? I don’t have anything to tie you up with.”
   Tracer just laughed. “I thought you could make just about anything with that fancy hand of yours.”
   Symmetra realised Tracer was right. With a single thought, she projected energy out of the emitter built into her cybernetic hand. It took little effort for her to arrange the light-energy into several, intertwining strands. Symmetra cut off the flow of energy, and allowed the white rope to take solid form. She tested it in her hands. It was light, soft and elastic, but she knew it would not break and it could be as long as she needed it to be. She looked at Tracer. She imagined all the things she could do to her with the rope. Dozens of beautiful designs, each more intricate than the last, took shape in her mind’s eye. Tracer squirmed slightly, almost as if she could sense Symmetra’s thoughts.
   “Do you need me to show you how to do the knots, love?” she offered.
   “No,” Symmetra answered curtly. She did not need any help bringing her designs into reality.
   Symmetra lent over Tracer. She slipped one end of the rope over one of Tracer’s shoulders, and then around her torso, knotting it several times as she did so. Then, she looped it over the other shoulder, so that the rope criss-crossed between Tracer’s breasts. Symmetra pulled the ropes tight, just a little bit. Tracer moaned softly as she did so. Symmetra glanced up at the girl’s face, and saw her cheeks red with arousal. It was only then that she became aware that her hands were shaking, and that a wet, warm heat was emanating from between her thighs. Symmetra took one of the free ends of the rope and wrapped it all the way along Tracer’s left arm and back, securing Tracer’s wrist to the armrest of the chair. Next, the rope passed behind Tracers neck, so Symmetra could repeat the same pattern on the other arm. Once she had done so, Tracer’s whole upper body was encased in rope and firmly attached to the chair. But she was not finished yet. Taking the other free end of the rope, Symmetra tried up the British girl’s legs and secured her ankles to the chair. The final flourish was to bring the ends of the rope back together and tie them to each other around Tracer’s neck, like a collar.
   Symmetra took a step back, and inspected her handiwork. The sight of Tracer tied up like that was breathtaking. Tracer strained herself against the bindings, testing their strength. Symmetra felt light-headed. The way the girl’s toned muscles tensed uselessly and then relaxed into surrender made Symmetra’s breathing come fast. She had never seen anything like the way the knots in the rope pressed into Tracer’s skin, creating little, white depressions at regular intervals. It was incredible. It was so different to the hard, unyielding materials Symmetra was used to working with. She wanted to try so, so many things.
   “It is not too tight? You can breathe well?”
   “It’s perfect,” Tracer breathed.
   “I know.” Symmetra licked her lips. Excitement was burning her up inside. “What next?”
   “That’s up to you, love.” Tracer tittered, a little nervously. “I’m all yours now.” When Symmetra hesitated, she added, “Touch me.”
   Symmetra bent over her captive plaything. It was intoxicating to think that she could do anything she wanted, touch Tracer anywhere she wanted, and girl couldn’t lift a finger to stop her. It was more than intoxicating - it was freeing. There wouldn’t be any of that awful, messy, disordered writhing and clawing. She was in control now. Everything would proceed at her pace, according to her design. And she could start wherever she wanted. Cautiously, Symmetra reached down and, very gently, touched her fingertips to Tracer’s thigh. Tracer twitched at the contact, and inhaled audibly. To Symmetra, her reaction was exquisite. Encouraged, Symmetra pressed her fingernails into Tracer’s skin and dragged them the length of the girl’s thigh, tracing white lines in her flesh. Symmetra watched as the lines she had made faded. Beautiful.
   “Yes,” Tracer whispered. “Like that.”
   “How about… like this?” Symmetra moved upwards, her fingers dancing from Tracer’s side, across her midriff and up between her breasts. Then, feeling bolder, she wrapped her hand around one of Tracer’s breasts and stroked it with her thumb, skirting just around her areola. Tracer whimpered softly. Symmetra purred. That was just the reaction she had been looking for. Tracer - this exquisite creature, totally within her power - was so delightfully responsive.
   Symmetra considered exploring Tracer’s body. Her hand ranged all over the girl’s body. She touched and poked, caressed and stroked, sometimes gently and sometimes firmly. Each technique and each place elicited a different reaction, each once lovely to behold. It was like learning to play a musical instrument. Symmetra barely had time to consider her own reactions - the goosebumps all over her body, her hardening nipples and the dampness between her legs.
   Suddenly, and without giving Tracer any warning, Symmetra took one of Tracer’s nipples and squeezed it firmly between thumb and forefinger. Tracer inhaled sharply, and let out a groan that was filled with pleasure and pain at the same time. Symmetra was worried she had pinched too hard, but from the way Tracer bent toward her hand it was clear the girl was just as thrilled by it as Symmetra herself was. Tracer’s breathe was coming in ragged gasps. Before they could return to rhythm, Symmetra placed her hand around Tracer’s throat, fingertips pressing in gently and insistently on her neck. Symmetra looked straight at Tracer, letting her eyes ask the question.
   “Yes,” Tracer urged, her voice filled out with a throaty, lusty tone.
   Symmetra gripped hard and then pushed forward, forcing Tracer’s head back against the chair. Tracer went very still and her breathing slowed, coming only occasionally, in strangled gasps. Symmetra did not relent. She just waited patiently, and watched as Tracer’s face filled with redness. Symmetra got a special, sensual thrill from seeing Tracer’s body change due to her manipulations. It was no more difficult, she realised, than forging creations out of solid light. And the rush she got from exerting such control over another person was absolutely incomparable.
   Eventually Tracer blinked, slowly and deliberately. Symmetra released her grip. Tracer gasped desperately for air. The girl’s whole body was covered with sweat, and her eyes were wild with need. As her face returned to its natural colour, Symmetra looked at her own hand. Her skin was white, from where she had choked Tracer particularly hard, and damp from Tracer’s sweat. Symmetra raised her hand to her nose. Tracer’s scent shot through her, like something electric. God, Symmetra wanted this moment to last forever!
   A few seconds later, once both of them had calmed down a little, Symmetra decided she was ready for more. But was uncertain about the next step. She would have to ask Tracer again. Symmetra might be in charge, but she knew the British girl was her guide. Words couldn’t express how grateful she now was that Tracer had come to her room tonight, and shown her this new world.
   “Please,” Tracer whimpered, before Symmetra could formulate her question. Tracer’s breath was still coming in deep gasps, punctuating her words. “Kiss me.”
   At first, Symmetra was apprehensive. She knew, of course, about kissing. She knew it was expected, between two people having sex. But her earlier experience loomed large in her mind. The kissing had been one of the worst parts, with the way the man had just pressed himself on her and slobbered over her, depriving her of the control she craved. But Tracer hadn’t led her wrong yet. Symmetra bent at the waist, looming over Tracer, and planted a kiss on Tracer’s eager lips. It was only a peck, but when Symmetra pulled away Tracer stretched after her, straining against her bonds. The intense desire in her eyes was something Symmetra had never seen. She’d never imagined someone could look at her like that. She wanted more. She wanted Tracer to keep looking at her like that.
   Symmetra threw caution to the wind and kissed Tracer again, giving herself fully to the kiss. Tracer matched her enthusiasm. As they pressed against each other and competed to kiss more of each other, it was messy and ugly - but it was also incredible. The feeling of Tracer’s tongue writhing around inside her mouth was disconcerting at first, but Symmetra quickly grew to enjoy it. Without ever breaking contact, Symmetra pulled back again and again, forcing Tracer to strain to meet her. Another arousing expression of her control. Symmetra was able to relax, safe in the knowledge that she could pull back whenever she wanted. Symmetra decided she wanted to kiss Tracer’s neck, so she did. Tracer moaned with pleasure and craned her neck, exposing herself to Symmetra’s touch. Symmetra planted dozens of kisses all across Tracer’s neck and the lower part of her face. For a moment, she stopped thinking and started doing whatever her instincts told her. She had total control over Tracer, but she could barely control herself. How could she think, when she felt this good?
   At last, Symmetra pulled away. She needed a moment to calm herself. This was all moving so fast. Symmetra touched her face, and her fingers came away covered with sweat. She was sure she looked a mess. At least Tracer looked no better. The pilot was drenched in sweat, and was shaking as pleasure wracked her body. A small pool of fluid was soaking into the chair between her legs. The realisation that it was all down to her had Symmetra shivering with pleasure. Already, she missed the feeling of Tracer’s skin on hers. What should she do next? What fresh pleasures were there for her to discover?
   “Satya, love?” Tracer asked, weakly. She grinned. “I’d really love it if you took your clothes off too.”
   “Very well.” It seemed a reasonable request. Mechanically, Symmetra reached behind herself and unzipped her dress. At first she moved hastily, just as she would when undressing in the evening. But as she slipped her arms out of her cyan robe, she noticed Tracer’s jaw was hanging lose, and she was utterly fixated on Symmetra’s every movement. Symmetra struggled to make sense of that. Was she really that beautiful? She knew that Tracer, bound with elegant patterns of rope, was beautiful. But beyond that, she didn’t really understand beauty. Still, maybe this was another way for her to exert her control. Symmetra pulled her dress down to just above the level of breasts, and then held it there, denying Tracer her nakedness. Tracer gave her a look of pure, ravenous hunger. It sent shivers all over Symmetra’s body. Could she really have such an effect on Tracer, without even touching her? A worthy avenue of exploration. Symmetra pulled her dress down further, until it rested only on her hips, but turned at the same time so she was facing away from Tracer. The British girl groaned with longing. Symmetra sensed Tracer’s desperation, knowing that her breasts were exposed but out of sight. She fed off it. Smiling to herself, Symmetra swung her hips from side to side, inching her dress down over her ass until it fell to the ground.
   “Yeah…” Tracer whispered, drinking in the sight of Symmetra’s ass. Symmetra was pleased. She knew from the reactions of men that her ass was once of her best features.
   “Earlier, you said I was… gorgeous.” Symmetra stumbled over the unfamiliar word. “Did you mean it?”
   “Hell yeah I did!” Tracer shouted. “God, you’re hot.” Unconsciously, Symmetra started to slip her cybernetic left arm behind her back, to hide it. “No, don’t. That’s beautiful too.”
   “Really?” Symmetra had seen the way most people looked at her arm, with a mixture of curiosity and disgust.
   “It’s part of you,” Tracer said, with absolute conviction. “And you’re beautiful.”
   Symmetra blushed, and looked down at her feet. Nobody had every said anything like that to her before. She’d always disliked herself for a hundred small imperfections, but Tracer didn’t seem to notice them. Tracer was looking at her the way a subject might look at a queen. It was erotic. It was empowering.
   “Please,” Tracer begged. “Give me more.”
   Symmetra considered whether or not to grant her request. She enjoyed considering it. She could do anything she wanted to Tracer - she could tease her and deny her, or she could give her overwhelming pleasure. Symmetra could really believe it, feel it, now that she had seen the way Tracer looked at her body. Savouring the choice was exquisite, but it didn’t take long to reach a decision. The burning itch inside Symmetra’s body was too great for her to hold back. She threw herself down onto Tracer, provoking a startled yelp from the British girl. But her surprise melted into ecstasy as Symmetra kissed her, over and over and over again. She ran her hands all over Tracer’s body, toying with her as she liked. Each touch, each caress, brought forth moans and exclamations of pleasure. Symmetra found herself moaning too, their voices joining in an ecstatic chorus. Desperate for more, Symmetra rubbed herself against Tracer, the hard nubs of her nipples rubbing against Tracer’s and sending white-hot sparks up and down Symmetra’s body.
   “Yes…” Symmetra moaned, kissing along Tracer’s ear. “Is this what you wanted?”
   “Ye.. Ah!” Tracer lost control over her voice as Symmetra gently bit down on her earlobe.
   “What was that?” Symmetra purred with satisfaction. “You have to speak clearly. Do you want more?”
   “You know I… Fuck!” Symmetra’s fingers dove straight toward the one spot she had avoided before: Tracer’s pussy. It was wet and warm between Tracer’s legs, and a single touch elicited a load, throaty scream from the British girl.
   “Of course I know.” Symmetra confidently explored Tracer’s pussy, pinching her clit before thrusting two fingers deep up into her folds. Tracer’s increasingly enthusiastic responses were music to her ears. She could get what ever reaction she wanted out of the bound girl. “I know exactly what you like, Lena.” It was true. From her thorough exploration of Tracer’s body, she had already figured out exactly where to touch.
   “Please - oh God!” Overcome by the pleasure from Symmetra’s ministrations, Tracer was struggling to breathe, let alone speak. “Call me ‘Slave.’”
   Symmetra arched an eyebrow. “As you wish, Slave.” Symmetra put all the dominance she could muster into the word, and was rewarded when Tracer arched her back in reply.
   Slave. The word quickly grew on Symmetra. The idea of having Tracer, the hero of Overwatch and envy of half the world, as her own personal pleasure slave was fiercely erotic. But it occurred to her that Tracer wasn’t being very slave-like. Symmetra was still pleasuring her with her fingers. Perhaps it should be the other way around. Perhaps that was what Tracer wanted. Symmetra turned her attention to her own body, and realised she was practically burning up, in one place in particular. Symmetra tentatively stroked her own pussy, and twitched vigorously at the intense jolt of pleasure she received. She wanted more of that. An idea came to her. Working quickly, she slightly loosened the bonds on Tracer’s upper body so the girl could lean forward a bit more, even though her arms and legs were still firmly bound to the chair. Symmetra set one of her feet up on the chair’s armrest, and pressed herself towards Tracer.
   “I think you know what to do, Slave.” Tracer hesitated, perhaps taken aback by Symmetra’s newfound and increasing boldness. That irked Symmetra. “Lick my cunt.”
   Tracer did not need to be told twice. She surged forwards, and set herself to the task Symmetra had given her. It took everything Symmetra had not to fall over. Clearly, Tracer was experienced at this. Her lithe tongue was everywhere at once, for once moment worshipping Symmetra’s clit and then the next penetrating into places Symmetra never knew existed. God, this was incredible! Symmetra occasionally touched herself with her fingers, but she always thought of that as attending to a physical need. This was completely different. The raw pleasure was like nothing she could have imagined. The heat of Tracer’s mouth on her body had her lower half burning. Symmetra never wanted to stop burning.
   “Yes, Slave, just like that!” Symmetra grinned, and let out an excitable little giggle as Tracer redoubled her efforts. Every time she used the word ‘Slave,’ Tracer shivered all over. It was breathtaking to think a single word could have such an effect. Symmetra wanted to test it, push it further.
   But right know, she could only think of her own pleasure. Impatient and wanting more, she nestled her hand into Tracer’s short, spiky hair, stroking her slave. Then she gripped, and pressed Tracer’s head into her pussy, hard. Somehow, the pleasure intensified. Symmetra started to lose control over her body. She was gyrated wildly against Tracer, who was struggling to keep up. Tracer was barely using her tongue anymore. Symmetra was really just grinding her dripping pussy on Tracer’s face. But she didn’t care. Something was building up inside of her, something she had never felt before. It was a tightness, but it felt so good Symmetra just wanted it to grow and grow until it overtook her. It was so close now.
   “Yes! Almost there, almost there. Harder!” Symmetra tightened her grip on Tracer’s hair, and the girl whimpered in pain. Symmetra could tell Tracer enjoyed it from the obscene way she was rubbing her pussy against the chair cushion. Pain. Symmetra would have to remember that. But that was for later. For now, Symmetra was perched right on the brink of orgasm, determined to ride the wave of pleasure as long as she could. She didn’t want it to end, but she instinctively knew the climax would be even better than what she was feeling now. After just a short time, Symmetra couldn’t control it any more.
   “That’s it! I’m…” The pleasure peaked and Symmetra fell, fell into the ecstatic abyss. Tracer was right there with her, matching Symmetra moan for moan. Symmetra’s whole world shook. Her foot slipped off the chair, and she slumped backwards onto the bed. After her climax she was a hot, wet mess. She was breathing like she had just run a marathon. And she loved it. It was the best orgasm she had ever experienced. Nothing else even came close.
   Symmetra eventually came back to her senses, and realised Tracer was staring at her with a look of intense hunger, like a starving dog staring at a scrap of meat. Of course - she hadn’t cum yet. Symmetra had pleasured her furiously with her fingers and her mouth, but Tracer had not yet reached orgasm. Now, she was half-mad for it. Symmetra liked it. She liked Tracer looking at her like she was the only person in the world. Right now, she felt as tall and mighty as a god. The aftershocks of her orgasm made her light-headed and blissful. She didn’t want any of it to stop. So, she would make sure it lasted longer.
   “My poor Slave,” Symmetra said, her tone mocking. Symmetra drew herself up to her full height, and stood over Tracer imperiously. “You’re so, so desperate, aren’t you?”
   Symmetra had no intention of allowing her to reply. She set one foot up on the lip of the chair, and pressed the tip of her big toe into Tracer’s sex. Tracer let out an extraordinary moan and started to grind against Symmetra’s foot. Symmetra let her do so for a few moments, making sure Tracer could only begin to sate her itch. Tracer’s juices covering her toes should have bothered her, but it didn’t. Symmetra didn’t think anything could bother her here. She felt so powerful and so safe, standing above the powerless, lust-filled Tracer. Her pussy wouldn’t stop throbbing at the image.
   “Slave, you’re making such a mess,” Symmetra purred. Tracer nodded wildly. “Whatever will the maids think?”
   “Yes…” Tracer bucked wildly. Her reaction provoked an evil thought in Symmetra. She walked a long circuit around the chair and bent down to speak straight into Tracer’s ear.
   “Just imagine if one of them came knocking at the door now. I think if they did, I’d let them in.” Tracer closed her eyes. Her movements actually slowed, as she was enraptured by the fantasy Symmetra was building. “Can you picture it, Slave? A pretty young maid walking in here and seeing you, tied up and making a mess of yourself like this. What would she say? Can you imagine her, turning white and gasping in shock. Tell me, Slave, how do you think she’d look at you? I think she’d be disgusted. Disgusted to see Tracer, the great hero, reduced to this loathsome, quivering wretch who can’t even control her own cunt. What do you think?”
   “Yes…” Tracer was melting at the thought. Clearly humiliation was another tool Symmetra could use to sculpt her masterpiece.
   “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? That’s right, you’re nothing more than a filthy slut.” Symmetra was whispering now. Tracer moaned and nodded. “Say it. I want you to say it, Slave.”
   “I’m… I’m a filthy slut!” Tracer’s whole body tensed for a moment, and then went limp. Symmetra realised her plaything had had a small orgasm. That both displeased and fascinated her. On the one had, it was amazing to think mere words could cause such a reaction. On the other hand, Symmetra had not wanted the girl to experience release quite yet. She stalked back round the chair to face Tracer head on. Tracer just looked at her, a dizzy, stupid grin on her face.
   “I did not give you permission to cum,” Symmetra announced icily, and slapped Tracer across the face, hard. Immediately, Tracer flushed with arousal.
   “I’d say I’m sorry, love,” Tracer murmured, “But you’re just so bloody good.”
   “Worthless slave.” Symmetra pursed her lips, formulating a new plan. “You need to be punished.”
   “Yes, Satya.” Tracer sounded awfully hopeful. Symmetra decided to ignore it.
   Tracer seemed surprised when Symmetra knelt down in front of her, on the floor. The surprise was wiped from her face and replaced with bliss when Symmetra dove in and started to enthusiastically lick Tracer’s pussy. Symmetra had never done such a thing before, but she did her best to copy the way Tracer had used her tongue on her own pussy earlier. Judging from Tracer’s eager and vocal response, she wasn’t doing a bad job. Symmetra found the taste and the warmth strange, but not unpleasant. She enjoyed the way Tracer reacted to every movement, every touch. Evidently, the poor girl was still very sensitive after her orgasm.
   “This… isn’t much of a punishment… love,” Tracer spluttered, between moans.
   Symmetra didn’t bother to reply. She knew what was coming. She kept lapping at Tracer’s pussy, and felt the girl’s body grow increasingly tense. Changing tactics, she moved up to Tracer’s clit and carefully rolled it between tongue and teeth, applying minimal pressure. If it hurt Tracer, she didn’t seem to mind. Her breathing made it clear she was building up to something explosive. Symmetra rode it, encouraged it. She did everything she could think of to heighten Tracer’s pleasure.
   “God… just a little more,” Tracer groaned, barely holding it together.
   Symmetra slipped a few of her fingers into Tracer’s pussy, roughly penetrating her. She placed her free, cybernetic hand on Tracer’s hips, feeling the way the girl writhed and pressed beneath her. It was glorious. Symmetra kept pleasuring her, and waited until Tracer arched her spine and drew in a sharp intake of breath. Then… she just stopped. Tracer collapsed into her seat.
   “No, please!” Tracer whined. “I was right there.”
   “That’s the point, Slave,” Symmetra murmured. “I told you, you need to be punished.”
   “Oh, hell,” Tracer exclaimed weakly.
   Symmetra grinned to herself. Tracer was putty in her hands. She sensed she should allow the girl a little time to cool off. She backed off from Tracer’s pussy, savouring her exquisitely needy reaction, and turned her attention to Tracer’s pale, athletic thighs. Symmetra planted a trail of kisses all along one of Tracer’s legs, gently massaging Tracer’s muscles with her hand. Tracer half-vocalised a protest. She was clearly enjoying the sensation, but she knew it wouldn’t give her the relief she craved. That was the idea. Symmetra continued to kiss and caress her way all around Tracer’s lower body. Along her legs, her hips, her taut stomach - everywhere except her dripping pussy.
   “Not like that, please.” Tracer was reduced to begging from the ecstatic torment.
   “What’s that, Slave?” Symmetra asked playfully, without pausing her ministrations.
   “I want… Ah!” When Tracer started to speak, Symmetra slapped Tracer’s bare pussy with three fingers. She didn’t use much force, but it was enough to make Tracer let out a delightfully masochistic shriek.
   “Come on now,” Symmetra chided, returning to teasing Tracer’s inner thighs. “I have told you already: speak clearly. Try again.”
   “Damn you!” Tracer obviously knew what was going to happen, but she couldn’t restrain herself. “I want you… Oh!”
   Symmetra promptly slapped again, in just the same place. It was a great pleasure to watch Tracer squirm and writhe beneath her touch. She knew she was in absolute control. Tracer couldn’t resist her, not even one bit. The way Tracer was constantly straining against her bonds, praying from relief from the teasing, was only further proof of her irresistible power. Symmetra wanted the sweet moment to last an eternity. But, she hated to admit, it couldn’t. Tracer couldn’t take much more of this teasing, and Symmetra was starting to yearn for another climax. It was time to bring this encounter to its finale. Symmetra stood up and leaned into Tracer, resting a hand on the chair to proper herself up at an angle. She looked right into Tracer’s eyes, and found blind, unthinking worship looking back at her.
   “Look at me, Slave, and tell me exactly what you want. No interruptions this time, I promise.”
   “I want.. Oh god!” Aftershocks of pleasure were tearing their way across Tracer’s form. “I want you to make me cum. Please, please, make me cum. I need it, I need it!”
   “Oh?” Symmetra arched an eyebrow and did her best to affect a cool stare. “And what makes you think you deserve to cum?”
   “I don’t… I don’t know.” Tracer was sweating feverishly. “But please, please, please, I need it. I’ll be yours forever. You can do whatever you want with me, for ever and ever, but please, please, Satya, just let me cum, please.” Tracer broke off into incoherence.
   “Hmm.” Symmetra adored the way Tracer was struggling to even form complete sentences. But she decided this moment could be even more perfect. “’Satya.’ Doesn’t that seem a little familiar to you, Slave? I don’t think you deserve to have my name in your mouth.”
   “You’re right, you’re right, you’re right.” Symmetra knew Tracer would say absolutely anything at this point, just to get Symmetra to make her cum. “Please let me cum… Mistress.”
   “’Mistress.’ I like that,” Symmetra said. And she did. But there was another word she craved to hear from Tracer’s lips even more. A word that implied perfect, complete, unreserved worship. Symmetra wanted to hear Tracer say it. She needed it.
Symmetra rested her cybernetic hand on the knot of hard-light rope between Tracer’s breasts, and sent a cascade of energy from her emitter through the rope. The whole rope, tied all around Tracer’s body, was immediately filled with a brilliant, blue light that touched every corner of the hotel room. Most of all, of it filled Tracer’s face, and Symmetra saw it in her own face reflected in Tracer’s eyes. Her plaything and her exhausted, overtaxed brain were simply awestruck.
   “But I’m more to you than a mistress could ever be,” Symmetra continued. “I made you this way. I made your chains, just like that, out of thin air. You’re mine, now and forever. You can never forget that, even if you wanted to. It’s inscribed into your very body. This,” Symmetra gestured all around. “This is all mine. Mine alone. This is my reality.”
   “Yes…” Tracer babbled. It was clear she was at her limit. “Please, I beg you. I’ll beg and worship at your feet if you want me to. Just please, let me cum. My Goddess.”
   That was all it took. Symmetra felt white-hot fire fill her mind. Unable to control herself any longer, she threw one leg over an arm of the chair and rested her weight on Tracer’s restrained hand. Instinctively, Tracer started to play with Symmetra’s pussy with her dexterous, expertly-trained fingers. Immediately, Symmetra was at the brink of orgasm. She reached down with her hand and started to attack Tracer’s pussy with renewed fervour, provoking another round of fierce moans. They were both right there on the edge, together.
   “Yes!” Symmetra couldn’t say which one of them it was.
   “Yes!”
   At almost exactly the same time, they came. Symmetra felt an explosion of wetness from her pussy, and all thoughts were driven from her mind. It was a religious experience, and she was the goddess. She sensed that nothing in her whole life could compare to this all-encompassing ecstasy. It was everything. It was too much. Symmetra’s knees gave out beneath her, and she slumped to the floor. Dark corners crept into her vision. She had just enough sense left to activate her emitter and dissolve the rope holding Tracer in place, before she collapsed into unconsciousness.
*****
   A while later - she couldn’t guess how long exactly - Symmetra awoke. She had a moment of dazzling confusion, before all the incredible memories flooded back to her. Where was she? Where was Tracer? Awareness gradually returned to her, and she realised she was lying on her hotel bed, gently nestled in Tracer’s arms. A part of her mind rebelled at the unexpected, unheralded contact, but she quietened it. This was nice. This was right. Symmetra turned her head to look up at Tracer’s face.
   “Hey there, sleepy head,” Tracer whispered, affectionately. “You OK? I’ve never seen anyone manage to knock themselves out before. You must’ve been seriously backed up.”
   Symmetra didn’t know what that meant, but she nodded anyway. Slowly, she sat up.
   “And you, Lena?” Symmetra felt she needed to ask. Had she gone to far? She had been so caught up in the moment.
   “I’m bloody marvellous, love.” Tracer stretched, like a cat. “It’s been a while since anyone gave me a working over like that. Didn’t expect it from you, of all people. It’s always the quiet ones, eh?” Symmetra saw Tracer glance at the clock. Almost midnight. “Look, Satya, I need to go. Had a call from Winston. You know how it is - always another fire needs putting out. Should’ve gone a while ago but, well, I wanted to be here when you woke up.” For a moment, Tracer looked almost bashful. “So now, I’m gonna dash. But we should really do this again sometime.”
   “Do you really mean that?” Symmetra couldn’t help but be a little insecure. She found herself fervently hoping Tracer would say ‘yes.’
   “Absolutely. Hit me up next time you’re in England.” Tracer winked. “I reckon you could teach Emily a thing or two.” With some effort, Tracer got up off the bed and slipped back into her clothes. Symmetra watched her, fascinated. Lena Oxton was such a graceful creature. Just as she was about to walk out the door, Tracer turned back, perhaps sensing Symmetra could do with a little more reassurance. “Believe me, pet, I meant exactly what I said. We can do this again anytime you like. I’m yours, forever. Goddess.”
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Her Reality