Extra warning for victim blaming. Continued in 7c because word count. ----
Natasha was feeling slightly annoyed later that day when was standing before her - naked except for the collar, arms folder behind his back, eyes cast down. It bothered her that she noticed how long his eyelashes were, that her eyes were drawn to the shapely muscles that ran from his chest to his belly. She disliked how much she found the curve of his mouth to be pleasing - especially as it was still curled into the ghost of a smile, one she would soon wipe away.
The tools she wore on her belt - a few dildos, a stun baton, a knife - should have made her feel more confident, but they felt like burdens now. In her mind she had imagined some sort of female Indiana Jones with sex toys, but in reality there was something sad about it.
She didn't want to be here, not now, not like this.
He shuffled his feet and did not look up, but she could tell he wanted to.
"I'm sorry if this is out of line, Mistress, but I know you were making a decision today..."
There it was. The thing she'd been hoping to avoid.
"And you wanted to know if we thought we had it in you to be an Avenger..."
He nodded almost shamefully.
She hated this, but she could use it to her advantage. Observe your surrounding. Assess the situation. Exploit weaknesses.
It was easy. Too easy.
She twisted her fingers in his hair and pulled his head back so she could see his face. He stood taller that her by quite a few inches, but with the look he gave her, he might as well have been 3 foot tall. She realized he was genuinely scared...and ashamed.
Natasha kicked the back of his knees and he buckled without resistance, landing on his knees at her feet. Her fingers never left his hair, and she could see him wince at it being pulled as he went down.
"Think you're good enough, James?" she asked him. He did not reply.
She backhanded him, hard. "I asked you a question."
"Yes," he hissed defiantly, looking up at her, bracing for another hit. "Yes I am." And honestly, she wanted to laugh. Tell him how he was doing a good job of not simply lying down and taking it. But she wasn't here for that.
"Think Hydra's whore is going to make a good addition to our team?"
"You know that's not what I am anymore." He looked up at her, genuinely angry, like he was going to pounce her. She hated to admit it to herself, but she found the danger of it exciting. All the little hairs on her body tingled, preparing for an attack that never came.
"Really? Could have fooled me."
She crouched down like a predator and put her hand on his half-erection. Only when she did she realized it felt like too much, too close, too forward. He was looking straight at her, like if it was a dare, and she could feel his ragged breath on her own lips.
"I amnot Hydra's," he spat, and she didn't miss the omission of the word whore.
"So why are you hard?"
She stared right back at him - calling his bluff, if that was what it was at all.
"Cause for better or for worse, I'm yours now...Na...Mistress." He said the title with disdain, and this was not something she had prepared for. She knew from the Max incident he didn't quite take this willingly, but she was only yet learning the rules of engagement.
"Mine? So if we'd run into your Hydra pals, you'd obey me over them?"
"Yes," he said simply, and that truly surprised her, because it did not sound like a lie.
"And if they'd pull off your pants and bent you over,, junior here wouldn't react?"
"I didn't...I didn't say that."
In this position, he could easily kiss or kill her - but he didn't seem to want to do the former,and she wasn't sure she could defend herself against the latter. After a few seconds he made a pained noise and lowered his gaze. Something about his surrender made her windpipe feel like it was being crushed, like she'd have preferred an attack over this.
"It's not my fault," he whispered pitifully, "I hate how my body betrays me."
Ah, she could work with that.
"Think it would make a difference to the enemy, if they'd capture you? That the'd care about your personal trauma?"
He shook his head.
And God, she knew it was unfair, she knew he couldn't help it - but, the humiliation was part of it, wasn't it? He looked so very defeated though, that she was doubting how far she was willing to go here.
She placed her hand under his chin, and forced him to look up at her again.
He was still hard under her touch. Her hand fisted his cock hard enough to bruise.
"You wanted to look, so look," she said.
She grabbed the zipper of her catsuit, revealing much - too much - of her breasts, leaving the garment open down to her bellybutton. He was looking in a way she'd describe as admiring - and he was still semi erect, but there was no reaction there, no change.
"You say you're mine, but you'd prefer any random cock over this." She felt his reaction to that in her hand immediately. And this was it, the thing that broke him. He was silent now, but his eyes started pooling with tears, and he stared at her in a way that slammed the feeling of guilt into her chest at full force.
He laid back down on his back, defeated, and placed his arm over his eyes to hide his tears. She decided to let him have that. Without her even needing to ask, he parted his legs, so she'd have access to whatever she wanted.
She pulled a latex glove from her pocket, and she could swear she could see a shiver running through him at the sound of it being pulled on. She wetted her first and middle finger in her own mouth, pushed apart his knees a little bit more before finding his hole. As she pushed in she was met with resistance - he was just as tight, if not tighter than last time. His body reacted to the intrusion, making him tighten around her even more.
"You weren't kidding about healing back up," she said.
He removed his arm from his face, but he deliberately looked away from her.
"Always fun at Hydra parties," he replied bitterly.
This...wasn't how it was meant to be. Everything was bleeding over already. That was Bucky talking, pure and unfiltered.
"What's your color?" she asked.
"Green. Bright green," she scoffed. "What, you really think two fingers inside me comes anywhere near awful in my experience? Just fuck me already." He sounded bashful, but he still wouldn't meet her eyes.
She curled her fingers up against his prostate, and he let out an unwilling moan, his body reacting the the physical sensation.
This was how it was supposed to go...but then, why were there alarm bells ringing in her head?
She pulled the fingers out, and took one dildo from her belt - the one she had fucked him with last time. She fastened it to the harness that was already secured to her body, adjusting the straps. The fabric of her catsuit felt safe between her skin and the contraption, and she was grateful for that small amount of privacy, even in this most intimate of moments.
Bucky - or James, she wasn't sure - did not have that luxury, being exposed to her mercilessly.
She slapped the inside of his thigh with a flat hand. "Spread wider."
He did without resistance, but she pushed the legs open more for good measure.
"That's a good slut,' she said. "I can see your hole now. Think I didn't see those scars before, James? I know how much cock has been in there. You can't hide from me."
A pitiful whimper escaped from his lips.
She climbed between his legs, positioning herself to fuck him. Placing an arm on each side of him, she was very aware that she was trapping him on the floor like this. The tip of the dildo found its way to his ass, and pressed against his sphincter, impatient to get in.
"I'm going to fuck you dry, James. What do you say about that?"
"A good slut like me can take it," he replied, but he still would not face her when she spoke.
She thrust in, but his body wouldn't let her enter easily,and she really had to force it in. He cried out at the initial penetration, but then she could see him biting into his flesh-and-blood hand, and he was silent as his tears finally fell.
When she was all the way up to the hilt, his eyes did flash up at her, wet and soul-piercing, and she almost thought he'd say something, but then he turned his head to the side again.
She recalled a time when she was milking a millionaire weapons dealer for info - quite literally, with her fingers poking his prostate - and how much he had whimpered : please darling, more darling, it's so good, harder...."
This was not like that at all. As she moved in and out of him, his body pinned under her, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. Even his gaze was distant, and she could only wonder where his thoughts went now. His body was still resisting and he was crying silent tears, looking more and more distressed with every trust. This really did feel like rape. Like it was not much different that what had been done to him before. But, maybe that was the point.
She could see he had started sucking on his thumb while she was fucking him open and she wondered if it was for comfort, or if he was really just imagining another cock there.
After maybe five minutes of fucking most resistance was gone. She realized this session might leave him with another scar or two, and it made her heart clench.
"I need...." he said after a few more minutes, and she stopped moving. "You need to hurt me a bit more. It won't work like this."
Re: Tainted Touch 7b
Extra warning for victim blaming. Continued in 7c because word count.
----
Natasha was feeling slightly annoyed later that day when was standing before her - naked except for the collar, arms folder behind his back, eyes cast down. It bothered her that she noticed how long his eyelashes were, that her eyes were drawn to the shapely muscles that ran from his chest to his belly. She disliked how much she found the curve of his mouth to be pleasing - especially as it was still curled into the ghost of a smile, one she would soon wipe away.
The tools she wore on her belt - a few dildos, a stun baton, a knife - should have made her feel more confident, but they felt like burdens now. In her mind she had imagined some sort of female Indiana Jones with sex toys, but in reality there was something sad about it.
She didn't want to be here, not now, not like this.
He shuffled his feet and did not look up, but she could tell he wanted to.
"I'm sorry if this is out of line, Mistress, but I know you were making a decision today..."
There it was. The thing she'd been hoping to avoid.
"And you wanted to know if we thought we had it in you to be an Avenger..."
He nodded almost shamefully.
She hated this, but she could use it to her advantage. Observe your surrounding. Assess the situation. Exploit weaknesses.
It was easy. Too easy.
She twisted her fingers in his hair and pulled his head back so she could see his face. He stood taller that her by quite a few inches, but with the look he gave her, he might as well have been 3 foot tall. She realized he was genuinely scared...and ashamed.
Natasha kicked the back of his knees and he buckled without resistance, landing on his knees at her feet. Her fingers never left his hair, and she could see him wince at it being pulled as he went down.
"Think you're good enough, James?" she asked him. He did not reply.
She backhanded him, hard. "I asked you a question."
"Yes," he hissed defiantly, looking up at her, bracing for another hit. "Yes I am." And honestly, she wanted to laugh. Tell him how he was doing a good job of not simply lying down and taking it. But she wasn't here for that.
"Think Hydra's whore is going to make a good addition to our team?"
"You know that's not what I am anymore." He looked up at her, genuinely angry, like he was going to pounce her. She hated to admit it to herself, but she found the danger of it exciting. All the little hairs on her body tingled, preparing for an attack that never came.
"Really? Could have fooled me."
She crouched down like a predator and put her hand on his half-erection. Only when she did she realized it felt like too much, too close, too forward. He was looking straight at her, like if it was a dare, and she could feel his ragged breath on her own lips.
"I amnot Hydra's," he spat, and she didn't miss the omission of the word whore.
"So why are you hard?"
She stared right back at him - calling his bluff, if that was what it was at all.
"Cause for better or for worse, I'm yours now...Na...Mistress." He said the title with disdain, and this was not something she had prepared for. She knew from the Max incident he didn't quite take this willingly, but she was only yet learning the rules of engagement.
"Mine? So if we'd run into your Hydra pals, you'd obey me over them?"
"Yes," he said simply, and that truly surprised her, because it did not sound like a lie.
"And if they'd pull off your pants and bent you over,, junior here wouldn't react?"
"I didn't...I didn't say that."
In this position, he could easily kiss or kill her - but he didn't seem to want to do the former,and she wasn't sure she could defend herself against the latter. After a few seconds he made a pained noise and lowered his gaze. Something about his surrender made her windpipe feel like it was being crushed, like she'd have preferred an attack over this.
"It's not my fault," he whispered pitifully, "I hate how my body betrays me."
Ah, she could work with that.
"Think it would make a difference to the enemy, if they'd capture you? That the'd care about your personal trauma?"
He shook his head.
And God, she knew it was unfair, she knew he couldn't help it - but, the humiliation was part of it, wasn't it? He looked so very defeated though, that she was doubting how far she was willing to go here.
She placed her hand under his chin, and forced him to look up at her again.
He was still hard under her touch. Her hand fisted his cock hard enough to bruise.
"You wanted to look, so look," she said.
She grabbed the zipper of her catsuit, revealing much - too much - of her breasts, leaving the garment open down to her bellybutton. He was looking in a way she'd describe as admiring - and he was still semi erect, but there was no reaction there, no change.
"You say you're mine, but you'd prefer any random cock over this." She felt his reaction to that in her hand immediately. And this was it, the thing that broke him. He was silent now, but his eyes started pooling with tears, and he stared at her in a way that slammed the feeling of guilt into her chest at full force.
He laid back down on his back, defeated, and placed his arm over his eyes to hide his tears. She decided to let him have that. Without her even needing to ask, he parted his legs, so she'd have access to whatever she wanted.
She pulled a latex glove from her pocket, and she could swear she could see a shiver running through him at the sound of it being pulled on. She wetted her first and middle finger in her own mouth, pushed apart his knees a little bit more before finding his hole. As she pushed in she was met with resistance - he was just as tight, if not tighter than last time. His body reacted to the intrusion, making him tighten around her even more.
"You weren't kidding about healing back up," she said.
He removed his arm from his face, but he deliberately looked away from her.
"Always fun at Hydra parties," he replied bitterly.
This...wasn't how it was meant to be. Everything was bleeding over already. That was Bucky talking, pure and unfiltered.
"What's your color?" she asked.
"Green. Bright green," she scoffed. "What, you really think two fingers inside me comes anywhere near awful in my experience? Just fuck me already." He sounded bashful, but he still wouldn't meet her eyes.
She curled her fingers up against his prostate, and he let out an unwilling moan, his body reacting the the physical sensation.
This was how it was supposed to go...but then, why were there alarm bells ringing in her head?
She pulled the fingers out, and took one dildo from her belt - the one she had fucked him with last time. She fastened it to the harness that was already secured to her body, adjusting the straps. The fabric of her catsuit felt safe between her skin and the contraption, and she was grateful for that small amount of privacy, even in this most intimate of moments.
Bucky - or James, she wasn't sure - did not have that luxury, being exposed to her mercilessly.
She slapped the inside of his thigh with a flat hand. "Spread wider."
He did without resistance, but she pushed the legs open more for good measure.
"That's a good slut,' she said. "I can see your hole now. Think I didn't see those scars before, James? I know how much cock has been in there. You can't hide from me."
A pitiful whimper escaped from his lips.
She climbed between his legs, positioning herself to fuck him. Placing an arm on each side of him, she was very aware that she was trapping him on the floor like this. The tip of the dildo found its way to his ass, and pressed against his sphincter, impatient to get in.
"I'm going to fuck you dry, James. What do you say about that?"
"A good slut like me can take it," he replied, but he still would not face her when she spoke.
She thrust in, but his body wouldn't let her enter easily,and she really had to force it in. He cried out at the initial penetration, but then she could see him biting into his flesh-and-blood hand, and he was silent as his tears finally fell.
When she was all the way up to the hilt, his eyes did flash up at her, wet and soul-piercing, and she almost thought he'd say something, but then he turned his head to the side again.
She recalled a time when she was milking a millionaire weapons dealer for info - quite literally, with her fingers poking his prostate - and how much he had whimpered : please darling, more darling, it's so good, harder...."
This was not like that at all. As she moved in and out of him, his body pinned under her, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. Even his gaze was distant, and she could only wonder where his thoughts went now. His body was still resisting and he was crying silent tears, looking more and more distressed with every trust. This really did feel like rape. Like it was not much different that what had been done to him before. But, maybe that was the point.
She could see he had started sucking on his thumb while she was fucking him open and she wondered if it was for comfort, or if he was really just imagining another cock there.
After maybe five minutes of fucking most resistance was gone. She realized this session might leave him with another scar or two, and it made her heart clench.
"I need...." he said after a few more minutes, and she stopped moving. "You need to hurt me a bit more. It won't work like this."