The Red Queen Chronicles: The Spy
AN: This story is another story based off of my “The New Red Queen” series. It takes place after the events of that story. Mary Jane Watson is now managing the Hellfire Club. I’ll also be using this story to explore some of the other events I’ve cited in previous stories. It will be at least two chapters long, but it may expand, depending on how it plays out.
‘These mean character thoughts.’
Disclaimer: I don’t own Spider-Man, Mary Jane, the Avengers, SHIELD Black Widow, or Marvel and I am making no money off this. They are the property of Stan Lee, Marvel, and Disney. Please don’t sue.
This fic contains explicit sexual material and adult themes. If that offends you, please don’t read it. As always, I encourage everyone to take the time to review this story. Send me your feedback via email at MarvelMaster616@hotmail.com or post a review on the adultfanfiction website. Thank you and enjoy the story.
The Hellfire Club – The Past
‘There’s a difference between being a spy and being a competent spy. Just being a spy comes at a price. Being a competent spy, however, requires sacrifice. That’s the price of being good at this job. Few are equipped to pay up. Even fewer have the will. The problem is this world needs a lot of competent spies…more than can reasonably exist. It’s good for business, but it makes the sacrifices that much harder. They leave scars on your soul that never heal. When it comes to dealing with those scars…well, sometimes you have to get creative.’
“Is this it, Natasha?” asked an impatient Emma Frost. “Are you sure this is everything I need to keep Shaw and his bastard behind bars? Preferably until the end of time?”
“It’s all there,” Natasha affirmed, with all the certainty she could offer as the Black Widow. “Data disks, financial records, classified files, private video files featuring some very disturbing conduct…it’s all there.”
“I don’t even want to contemplate the contents of those videos. Shaw has a knack for raising the bar for revulsion and his son just loves to raise it more.”
“The sheer breadth of the intel should make them unnecessary,” the Russian woman assured, “but should that day come – hopefully several centuries from now – those files should shatter any efforts to absolve Shaw of his crimes. Even by old Soviet standards, the details of those files are disturbing.”
“For once, Shaw’s debauchery works to our benefit. Those are words I never thought I’d be able to say with a straight face…or fully clothed, for that matter.”
Emma Frost gazed upon the wealth of valuable intel before her with a smug satisfaction that would put any ranking officer at SHIELD to shame. Sitting behind a fancy desk at the now-inactive Hellfire Club, once the primary hub for the Inner Circle, she was staring at an unmitigated personal triumph. She had dared to confront her sordid past and take it down. Unlike so many others, the former White Queen won.
Natasha had been part of that effort. It’d begun with a series of subversion efforts that Emma Frost organized and Maria Hill supported. Sebastian Shaw, his son, and the Inner Circle – the secretive organization that Emma had once been part of – had tried to go after her. Apparently, they didn’t like that she’d joined their enemies. There had been a rumor that they’d tried going after Emma’s students. Other rumors painted a more disturbing picture. Whatever the reason, Emma made it her mission to destroy the Inner Circle completely.
“I want them broken, penniless, powerless, disgraced, discredited, discarded, and everything in between!” she had told Maria Hill with an anger that rivaled the Hulk.
After that fateful declaration, she’d launched a series of covert operations against the Inner Circle, complete with the support and backing of SHIELD. Maria Hill, who’d been targeted by the Shaw’s arrogant son, helped ensure those operations were on a scope and scale that even the Inner Circle couldn’t beat.
As part of this effort, Emma had reached out to Natasha to conduct the most sensitive spy missions. Being the most accomplished spy in the world, as well as an active member of the Avengers, the White Queen saw her as the best in the business and spared no expense.
“I want everything about everything on Shaw and his bastard. If he signed it, spit on it, or tried to blow it up, I want it documented and detailed,” Emma had told her. “I want his web of treachery so exposed that everyone will know about a birthmark on his balls. Do this for me, Ms. Romanov, and I’ll compensate you in ways that even Tony Stark can’t match!”
It had been demanding, but true to her reputation, Natasha Romanov had delivered. It hadn’t been easy. She’d tapped a lot of old contacts and cashed in a great many overdue favors, but it got the job done. She’d done her part, but her reasons for doing so went beyond money, duty, or anything of the sort.
“Provided you keep your clothes on, this is the most you’ll ever get on Shaw…or any man for that matter,” Natasha told the former White Queen. “I went to considerable lengths to get these materials. I hope you appreciate the resources I tapped to meet your demands.”
“Oh I do appreciate it, Natasha. Trust me. The world appreciates your efforts to help put the Shaws in an adamantium cage,” said Emma, still basking in the wealth of intel before her.
“I stopped giving a damn about the world’s appreciation a long time ago. I care only that the job is done.”
“Seeing as how you uncovered everything from his dental records to which extreme porn sites Shanobi frequents, I’d say it’s as done as it can be. I’ll certainly sleep easier knowing one less person is patronizing BallGaggedBitches.com.”
Emma kept grinning in triumph, taking in the breadth of her victory over the Shaws. Natasha couldn’t help but envy her. She had never been in Emma Frost’s position, being able to say with a straight face that she took on old enemies and defeated them so thoroughly. At this point in her long, shadowy life, such triumph was all but impossible.
Some of that was a byproduct of her age. She might have been endowed with biology that kept her in peak physical condition, thanks to the effects of the Red Room, but many of those old enemies hadn’t enjoyed such luxury. For the most part, she had outlived almost all of them. While that benefited her in some ways, it also doomed her to a long life full of unresolved conflicts. Even if time rendered them impotent, the scars they left remained.
Emma Frost had been more proactive. She’d gone the extra mile, making sure every enemy and every conflict she’d encountered during her time as the White Queen had been thoroughly vanquished. She’d tapped every resource, employing everyone who could help her take down Sebastian Shaw and the Inner Circle.
The Black Widow didn’t usually offer her services for such personal missions, especially for those who were active members of other superhero teams. Emma Frost was a member of the X-men and, while her standing had been tenuous in the past, she was gradually taking on a more prominent role with that team. It was an unspoken rule among other superhero teams, not getting caught up in one another’s affairs. However, Natasha had made an exception for Emma Frost and her efforts to take down the Inner Circle, but for reasons that went beyond her usual motives.
“Disturbing websites aside, I’d say this little partnership was productive,” said Emma as she gathered up the materials on the desk. “I intend to upload the digital data to a few private servers of mine. If Shaw, or his ass of a son, tries to dig himself out of the hole he’s in, I’ll make sure these files are on the desktop of every SHIELD agent on the planet.”
“Thanks to those with weak stomachs, I doubt that will be necessary,” said Natasha. “I spoke with Director Hill. She’s gone out of her way to make sure Shaw and his son are in a cell that Thanos himself couldn’t escape.”
“While I appreciate the Director’s efforts – even if I do question her choice in hair style – I’d remind her that you can’t be too thorough, especially with men like them.”
“Considering how they tried to hack her personal records, I still say they got off easy.”
“It’s still more than they deserve,” said Emma as she looked over some particularly thick files. “I intend to make sure there’s nothing left of their decadent empire. Thanks to this intel, I’ve everything I need to effectively purge Sebastian Shaw and his family from this world’s collective memory. Expect a sizable bonus along with my payment, which should clear by the end of the day.”
“It already has,” said Natasha, “and I appreciate it. But so long as you’re in such a giving mood, there’s another kind of bonus I’d like to discuss.”
Emma stopped basking in her victory for a moment and gave Natasha a curious glance. This was the part of the meeting that the former Russian spy hoped to get through without incident. She’d endured enough uncertainty and suspicious glances for the duration of this operation. For once in her shadowy life, she needed someone not to second-guess her motivations.
“A bonus?” said the former White Queen with heightened intrigue. “I already told you the job is done. You’ve been paid in full. I’ve given you more praise in the past five minutes than I’ve given anyone since my last pedicure. What more could you possibly ask for?”
“Is this going to be a problem, Emma?” said Natasha with folded arms. “If so, tell me now so I can leave while you’re in such a good mood.”
“Oh it’s no problem, I assure you. It’s just…unexpected,” she said as she studied Natasha closely. “You’re not just the best spy in the world, Ms. Romanov. You’re pathologically averse to complicating things. Maybe it’s just the Russian in you, but you don’t ask for bonuses. You embody that old communist spirit of shunning greed and making do with what you have. For you to seek something more…I won’t lie that I’m genuinely curious.”
Natasha muttered a few Russian curse words under her breath. She also made an effort to strengthen her mental shields, another valuable skill that set her apart from most spies. This was exactly why she wanted to get through this without scrutiny. She knew someone like Emma Frost would be all too eager to scrutinize it.
“I’m sorry, but I’d rather not indulge your curiosity, Emma. This is an important matter…and a private one, at that,” said Natasha, her voice as serious as the Russian winter. “What I’m about to request cannot leave this room. It must remain between us and only us.”
“Darling, asking a telepath to keep secrets is like asking Picasso if he can draw stick-figures,” said Emma, still not taking this as seriously as Natasha would’ve preferred.
“It’s not just about keeping secrets. Please understand that as an Avenger, a world-class spy, and a former agent of the Soviet Union, there’s little I cannot obtain. Between money, favors, skills, and a willingness to cross more lines than most…well, surely you can appreciate that luxury more than most.”
“My imported lipstick and custom-made Gucci bags prevents me from denying that.”
“Then I hope you can also appreciate those rare instances where you seek something so vital, yet so difficult to obtain,” Natasha continued. “I went along with this operation for many reasons, most of which won’t surprise you. However, I put in the extra effort because you – as in you, the former White Queen of the Hellfire Club – are in a position to give me something no one else can. This thing I want – no, this thing I need – is something I’ve struggled to find anywhere else. If possible, I’d like you to end that struggle.”
Emma continued to study her from across her fancy desk, shooting her a penetrating gaze. Natasha could easily imagine lesser spies faltering under that gaze. There was a reason why Emma Frost became White Queen of the Hellfire Club. She was uniquely qualified to navigate this devious, decadent world. For a master spy who had lived her entire life in this dark world, Natasha made sure she didn’t falter.
Leaning forward in her seat, now resting her elbows on the table, she met Emma’s gaze with her own. She made it abundantly clear that this was important to her. This was not something to belittle or make light of. What Natasha Romanov from this woman could mean the difference between salvaging the remnants of her soul and succumbing to this shadowy world she knew so well.
“I’m listening,” said Emma, “and I promise not to berate…even if it needs berating.”
“Spare me the shallow promises, Frost,” said Natasha sternly. “What I’m about to describe for you is going to sound downright inane by Hellfire Club standards. I doubt it’ll even make sense to someone who hasn’t spent several decades in the espionage business. I just need you to deliver and not ask too many questions.”
“You’ve already seen what I can do to my enemies. Assume it works just as well the other way for my allies.”
“We’re not allies and this isn’t a favor. This is an arrangement…a cold, callous business arrangement and nothing more,” said the master spy. “Now here’s what I want from you and here’s how I want to receive it…”
The Hellfire Club – Later, But Still The Past
‘The hardest part about being a spy isn’t the lies you tell. It’s the lies you accept. When you enter this world, you’re basically surrounded by deception. You can’t trust anyone. You can’t get close to anybody. You can never just share yourself with someone and enjoy the simplest intimacy. You can try. God knows I’ve tried. But in the end, it only leads to more pain…pain that breeds even more lies. That’s why so many good, competent spies lose themselves. I don’t want to be one of them.’
Once again, Natasha couldn’t help but admire Emma Frost’s resolve. She was just as thorough in returning favors as she was at crushing enemies. After describing to her this very personal favor of hers, the former White Queen went to work.
It had taken her only a couple hours at most to set up, far less time than the former Russian agent had anticipated. She’d expected Emma to make this a low priority while she enjoyed her triumph over Sebastian Shaw and the Inner Circle. The former White Queen ended up defying those expectations.
Natasha had been genuinely surprised – not an easy reaction to get from a master spy – when she watched Emma get up from her desk, make a few calls, and get everything ready for her. She hadn’t even berated or belittled Natasha’s request. She’d treated it as though it were her highest priority.
Natasha didn’t even have to leave the building. Emma’s efficiency genuinely stunned her. If only the old Russian government had been so efficient, then maybe all those revolutions wouldn’t have been necessary. Now standing in the doorway of a secure room, which happened to located several floors beneath the Hellfire Club’s private penthouse, Natasha Romanov saw what she needed standing before her.
“Well…what say you, Ms. Romanov? Will this be sufficient?” asked Emma in a serious, yet coy voice.
“If it delivers on every condition I laid out…” began a still-astonished Natasha.
“Trust me, darling. It checks every box,” said Emma with a confident grin.
Normally, Natasha never believed anyone who said those words. For a master spy, giving someone their trust upon request was akin to giving Hydra complete blueprints for nuclear weapons. For once in her shadowy life, the Black Widow made an exception.
For a moment, the Russian woman took in the scene before her. The room itself wasn’t that fancy, especially compared to the rest of the Hellfire Club. It had no windows, no fancy art on the walls, and little in terms of amenities. It included a king-sized bed, plain carpets, basic lighting, and what appeared to be a small attached bathroom. By all accounts, it looked like a mid-range hotel room that anyone could find in any major city. However, the most important amenities had little to do with the room.
Standing in the center of this room, like soldiers standing at attention for a high-ranking officer, were three tall, well-muscled men. Natasha recognized them as men from the Inner Circle’s private guards, as evidenced by the distinct mask they wore to cover their faces. These had been the guards that once defended Sebastian Shaw, his son, and the Inner Circle so loyally. Now, with Shaw utterly defeated, it seemed Emma had redirected their loyalty.
“Not convinced? Allow me to allay your concerns,” said Emma in an overly casual tone.
The former White Queen stepped out ahead of Natasha for a moment and stood before the three masked guards with an authority that even Nick Fury would’ve respected.
“Gentlemen, disrobe and show Ms. Romanov your endowment,” she ordered. “Keep your masks on. You are still pawns of Hellfire.”
“Yes, Ms. Frost,” the three men replied in perfect unison.
With equally perfect obedience, the men undressed, removing their black bodysuits and boots. Within moments, they were completely naked from the neck down, revealing bodies of ripped manly flesh that were consistent with those of Olympic athletes. Having worked with the likes of Captain America, Natasha was used to such statures. However, she rarely got a chance to just admire them, as any woman of a heterosexual persuasion should.
“Not bad,” she said under her breath, trying not to sound too impressed.
“You Avengers have such lofty standards,” teased Emma.
She might have had a point, but that didn’t hinder Natasha’s admiration of these men. Her eyes raked up and down their manly bodies, paying close attention to the endowment between their legs. Maybe her standards were skewed from having seen the Hulk naked on a couple embarrassing equations, but these men definitely had dicks that qualified as above-average in size. She could easily imagine someone like Clint or Tony making jokes about them, but this was no laughing matter.
Having made her point, Emma stepped aside and welcomed Natasha to take a closer look. She gestured towards them as though she were a hostess leading an esteemed guest into the VIP section of a club. Natasha, now feeling a distinct weakness in her legs, stepped forth and approached the men.
“I think you’ll find these strapping studs quite capable of meeting your needs,” said Emma Frost. “They damn well better. The former Black Queen, Selene Gallio, conditioned them as such.”
“I’m guessing that’s a polite way to say mean she tortured, manipulated, and brainwashed them into being obedient drones,” Natasha surmised.
“Call it what you want. Take it up with her if you must…what’s left of her anyways,” said Emma with a casual shrug. “All I can tell you is they’re still completely loyal to the Inner Circle, of which I’m the only ranking member. I even tried to free their minds, but Selene really went the extra mile. They don’t have any minds left to free. They’re basically fleshy robots.”
“Robots with hard, chiseled muscles and big, throbbing cocks,” she added.
“That too,” said Emma curtly. “I don’t know what kind of conditioning Selene gave them, but they have no identity. They never get tired. They never get sick. They do exactly what you tell them to do and nothing less.”
“I’m sure the Inner Circle got plenty of use out of them…and not just the kinky kind, either.”
“It’s probably best you not know the details. Then again, you’re a master spy. You may already know the details and are too polite to describe them. That, or you’re too busy contemplating all the lurid possibilities.”
She spoke with the maturity of an immature teenager, but she wasn’t entirely wrong. Natasha remained fixated on these handsome men, her naturally tactical mind conjuring all sorts of elaborate plans. She needed to steady her thoughts. This wasn’t some elaborate spy operation. This was something simpler…something basic and personal.
“However they’ve been used before, you need not worry about that now,” Emma assured her. “I’ll only say that despite being mindless, the rest of their bodies are in perfect working order. Their equipment is quite adept. Their blood is as clean as a prepubescent choirboy. Their man-juices are rather sterile, but I don’t imagine that’s a concern for you.”
“No. It’s not. It hasn’t been for a long time,” said Natasha as she took a step closer to these men. “My concerns at the moment are entirely personal. And with that in mind, I’d like to keep such personal concerns extremely private.”
“Yes, I’ve taken that into account too,” said Emma, sounding offended that Natasha would think her so short-sided. “Shanobi Shaw built this room with the express purpose of keeping everything that goes inside as private as possible.”
“Exactly how private are we talking about here?” asked Natasha, still not diverting her gaze from the men.
“I don’t know the particulars – and don’t particularly care to know, either – but from what I’ve been told, this room is shielded from any and all psychic, mystical, and electronic spying. Nothing more advanced than a light bulb works in this room. Thanos could be getting spanked by Apocalypse in this room and nobody in the universe would know about it or…”
Emma’s words trailed off, but only because Natasha stopped listening. She had already made the most dangerous assumption any spy could make. She’d decided to trust Emma Frost.
In the end, she needed to trust her. She needed to because she needed this. Emma Frost might very well be a dangerous, devious woman who actually took pride in some of her misdeeds, but she was still a woman of her word. Natasha needed her to keep that word. In order for her to keep living in this shadowy world – to continue being the master spy that everyone needed her to be – she needed what Emma Frost had promised her.
‘She thinks she understands. She has no idea how wrong she is. Nobody…not Captain America, not nick Fury, and certainly not Emma Frost…can understand what this means to me. No mind, body, and soul is built to endure the world of espionage as I have. I can’t let it break me. I have to…no, I NEED to feel something real.’
Emma kept talking while Natasha scrutinized the three naked men standing before her. She reached out and lightly touched the chest of one of the men. His skin felt hard, yet warm, triggering various reactions within her body…reactions she had to repress all too often.
“So…any more questions, Ms. Romanov?” said Emma, her tone still wry with sensual undertones. “Need any tips or guidance, so to speak? I imagine it’s been a while for someone in your trade.”
Had Natasha not been so focused on the scene before her, she would’ve scowled at the former White Queen. To her, this was just a naughty game from a woman who hadn’t enjoyed much intimacy in a while. To the hardened Russian woman, she’d finished her part.
“That’ll be all, Emma,” said Natasha flatly. “Leave me…and lock the door behind you.”
“Are you sure?” the former White Queen asked. “Espionage may be your specialty, but what you’re doing…”
Natasha didn’t let her finish this time.
“Is nobody’s specialty,” she said firmly. “Please…just leave. I can take it from here.”
She sensed some disappointment from Emma, the deviant in her probably hoping that she could join in this favor of hers. If she knew what and why Natasha intended to do here, then she’d have already left by now.
“Fine,” said Emma with a defeated sigh. “Take all the time you need. Enjoy yourself…as much as jaded Russian spies can, I suppose.”
Natasha paid no further attention to the further White Queen, nor did she care about her judgment. She just waited until Emma Frost left the room and locked the door behind her, leaving her alone and isolated in this room with three naked, well-endowed men.
The sound of the door locking allowed Natasha to finally let her guard down, something every competent spy avoided to the utmost. She really felt the sense of isolation in this room – this feeling that there was nothing and nobody watching her. What she did in this room was a secret known to her and her alone. Something about that resonated with the Black Widow, a master spy who’d spent her life exposing secrets. In fact, it even added to her growing state of arousal.
“Gentlemen…acknowledge my authority,” Black Widow told the men, speaking like a commanding officer to a team of soldiers.
“We acknowledge,” the three men replied in perfect unison.
“Acknowledge that you will do exactly as I say,” she added.
“We will do exactly as you say,” they replied. “By order of the White Queen, we are to obey every order given by Ms. Natasha Romanov.”
Their response sounded more akin to a machine than a man. Even disciplined soldiers spoke with some semblance of humanity in their voice. These men had none of that. They were truly mindless drones of flesh. That made what Natasha had planned for them a bit easier to carry out.
“In that case, here is my first order…don’t call me by my name,” she told them, still speaking with utmost authority. “I’m not your queen. I’m not your master. I am just a woman whose desires you’re going to fulfill. Do you understand?”
The three men paused for a moment, as though their limited minds needed time to process her sentiment. Natasha didn’t expect them to make sense of it. She didn’t need them to. She just needed them to obey her every whim from here on out.
“We understand,” they finally said.
“Good,” said the Russian woman, “then let us begin.”
Assured of their obedience, Natasha took a step back from the three men, who continued to stand with perfect discipline. She then casually shed her custom-made wrist blasters – her stingers, as her fellow Avengers called them – and removed her belt. Once these items fell to the floor, the Russian woman removed her gloves and the distinct, skin-tight uniform that made her so recognizable next to her fellow Avengers.
The three men didn’t flinch for a second as she undressed in front of them, which didn’t bother her. She didn’t need anyone saying anything that might make her overthink this. For once, Natasha wasn’t going to scrutinize every detail of her actions. She couldn’t shed her uniform fast enough, pulling the zipper down and pushing it down her womanly frame. Once it was down at her ankles, she undid her combat boots and stepped out of them as well.
Now wearing only a simple black bra and matching panties, she kicked aside her uniform and gear. There was something oddly relieving about shedding her attire like this. It was as though she were setting aside the persona of Black Widow so she could just be Natasha Romanov. She might not have been an ordinary woman by any stretch, but she could at least feel like one for the briefest of moments.
‘When was the last time I did something like this? When was the last time I even had a chance to do something like this? It shouldn’t excite me like this. Maybe that’s a sign…a clear indication of how much I need this.’
Her heart was already racing. A warmth was already forming in her core. With every spy instinct numbed, Natasha took a step closer to the three men, feeling their obedient gaze locked on her.
“Touch me,” she ordered them. “Touch me in a way that’ll make me feel good.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the three men replied flatly.
Her orders weren’t specific. She didn’t specify whether she wanted to feel relaxed, aroused, or horny. Instead, Natasha opted to keep things simple and basic, if only to see whether these men were as conditioned as Emma claimed.
To Natasha’s relief and chagrin, the men quickly proved themselves. They each coordinated like well-trained soldiers, surrounding her on all sides with one in front of her while the two others stood at her side. They began by feeling and fondling around her womanly body, trailing their warm hands over her exposed flesh.
They paid close attention to her hips, thighs, torso and shoulders, scrutinizing every contour along the way. They didn’t avoid the various scars or faded bruises that she had accumulated over decades of spying. These obedient men remained entirely focused on making her feel good.
It worked too. Waves of shivers and shudders surged throughout Natasha’s body. There was strength in their touch, but they were quite gentle compared to their stature, treating her flesh as though it were a precious artifact of sorts. She wasn’t used to people being gentle with her. Hell, she wasn’t used to people not trying to kill her. It was jarring, but in a way she desperately needed.
‘So this is what it feels like to be touched without fear or reservation…wow, have I really forgotten something so simple? Or have I just not allowed myself to feel it?’
As Natasha contemplated these distressing thoughts, her body ached for more. The air around her seemed to heat up. A good portion of that heat was concentrated between her legs, another sign that she needed this more than she thought. She craved a more intimate touch and she could not get it in her current condition. That meant proceeding with the next phase of her plan.
“My bra and panties…remove them,” Natasha ordered.
“Yes, ma’am,” the three men said obediently.
Still treating her with the utmost care, the men finished the task of rendering her fully nude. One man got behind her and undid the clasp of her bra. He then skillfully pushed the straps down her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, freeing her breasts in the process.
As one man took care of her top, the two other man standing to her sides coordinated to remove her panties. They did it with the care of a team disarming a bomb. Each one lightly grasped the side of her panties and, with perfect synchronicity, pushed them down her legs. They went slowly, as if to highlight every inch of her flesh, and allowed her to step out of them with the utmost ease.
Now completely naked before these men, Natasha felt their obedient gaze on her again. They did not gawk or drool over the sight of her naked body. This left her with mixed feelings. On one hand, a part of her liked being admired, even if it was overtly crude. On the other, it was easier this way, ensuring no personal sentiments hindered this feeling.
“Go on. Keep touching me,” Natasha told the men. “Touch my breasts. Touch my vagina. Get me nice and wet.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they replied.
Their somewhat monotone voices were a bit frustrating, given the lewd nature of her request, but Natasha didn’t care about that right now. She craved a very particular feeling and didn’t give a damn about the finder details. For once, the master spy allowed herself to be reckless and crude.
The three obedient men continued to do their part and do it well. The two men to her side, which had removed her panties, went to work fondling her breasts. They used their hands with great skill, but also made use of their lips as well, kissing around her neck and cleavage. This sent more shudders and shivers up through her body. The intensity of those feelings escalated even more when she felt a hand between her legs.
“Mmm…that feels good,” she said with a light moan.
As the men kneaded and caressed her breasts, the man behind her demonstrated exceptional skill in fondling her pussy. He had definitely been conditioned, so to speak. He knew female anatomy well, as though it had been programmed into his mind. Given the ability of telepaths like Emma Frost, that was entirely possible.
He plunged his fingers into her folds, rubbed her clit with just the right amount of pressure, and got the blood flowing in all the right directions. Before long, her sex was slick with juices. Hot tingles coursed through her body, evoking more gasps from the hardened Russian.
‘This is really happening. I’m really THIS horny. Just when I thought I’d been numbed to such feelings, I’m can still feel like a healthy, normal healthy woman…relatively speaking.’
Relative or not, the men helped her accomplish the first – and most difficult – part of her plan. She was horny now. The erratic thoughts of a master spy, always having to assess a situation and prepare for an attack, finally ceased. Instead, her thoughts were simple and basic. She wanted sex. She wanted pleasure of the most basic kind. Here in this hidden den of decadence, she could get it without reservation or complication.
“No more!” barked Natasha, desperation and restlessness echoing in her voice.
The men immediately stopped, but remained close, their hands still on her naked body. They might have been mindless, but they still sensed what she needed.
“Take me to the bed,” she told them with great urgency.
The three men didn’t even respond with words this time. They just nodded. It must have been their way of recognizing the extent of her urgency, showing that their capacity went beyond that of mindless drones. When it came to obeying their master, they understood when mere obedience wasn’t enough.
Like bodyguards guiding her through a war zone, the three men led Natasha over to the king-sized bed. They surrounded her on all sides, their hands never leaving her flesh, as if to help her remain focused on her desires. If this were an actual mission, then they would be ahead of schedule. In this case, though, the stakes were much higher and much more personal.
Upon reaching the bed, the man behind her took her in his arms and lifted her up off the floor. The other two men gave him space as he crawled onto the bed and laid her down in the center, her naked body now on full-display for these three men. As she looked up at them, Natasha noticed that their dicks had become fully erect. She didn’t remember whether this happened when they began touching her or if they just got hard on command. Whatever the case, she was now in the presence of three strong, well-endowed men who could give her what she craved.
“You there!” said Natasha, pointing at the man who’d laid her down. “Get on top and fuck me!”
“Yes, ma’am,” replied the masked man.
She swore there as a touch of eagerness in his voice…or maybe that was just Natasha’s lurid thoughts playing tricks on her. It had been a long time since she sought something so crude and basic. She wasn’t going to concern herself with the particulars.
The man complied with her command as though it were the most important mission of his life. He got on top of her, grasped her by the waist, and aligned his dick with the wet folds of her vagina. Natasha instinctively spread her legs and hooked them around the man’s waist, grabbing onto his shoulders for leverage. Then, the man buried his face between her shoulder and neck and pushed his hips forward, driving his dick into her pussy.
“Ohhh bozhi moi!” Natasha gasped, a bit Russian entering her voice.
Sharp sensations of hard penetration shot up through her body. She felt her moist sex stretch to welcome the hard, manly flesh of this nameless yet well-endowed man. She reacted with instincts that most spies trained to suppress, embracing the most basic functions of her body and all the pleasure it brought.
‘Wow! Sex still feels good. Has it really been THAT long? Have I really become THAT detached from such basic feelings? I thought I knew how much I needed this. I guess I was wrong.’
Letting out another gasp, Natasha closed her eyes and instinctively grasped the torso of the man on top of her, digging her nails into his back. She clung to him firmly as his body began to move, carrying out the simple motions of sex. With his knees and feet dug into the bed, he rhythmically thrust his hips, pumping his erect cock within her pussy. With each thrust, she felt his rigid length slither inside her, evoking more sensations and more feelings that fed this overdue need.
It was so basic and raw, lying here on this bed and having sex with this nameless man who was more drone than stud. The circumstances didn’t matter though. In this intimate moment, Natasha didn’t have to be a master spy, a loyal soldier, or a cunning deceiver. She just had to be a normal woman fulfilling a basic need while daring to actually enjoy it. For everything she had been through and everything she had lost, it was an amazing feeling.
This was no romantic entanglements. There were no personal connections. The various men she’d been involved with over the years – Clint Barton, Matt Murdock, and Bucky Barnes – they only ever seemed to end in heartbreak, disappointment, or tragedy. It might have hardened her heart, but Natasha refused to let it harden her soul. That was why she needed this. Just the raw sensations of being intimate with someone – even if that someone was a mindless drone who blindly served the Inner Circle – reminded her that her soul, while damaged, was still intact.
“That…that’s it! Keep…fucking…me!” Natasha said through repeated gasps. “Fuck me…until I…come!”
The masked man on top of her could only moan to acknowledge her command. He must have heard her because he began moving his hips faster, thrusting his cock into her with greater vigor. Natasha felt the bed rock along with her body. She let out sharper gasps as she raked her nails down the back of the man on top of her.
She still kept her eyes closed, wanting to focus entirely on the feeling and not the person giving it to her. This feeling was what she needed…that feeling of raw, undiluted ecstasy. It came quicker than she expected. Her body, being so resilient and age-defying, clearly hadn’t forgotten how to orgasm. The masked man on top did his part and did it well, his efforts sending her to the brink and beyond.
“Oohhh, I…I’m coming! Bozhi moi, I’m coming!” Natasha cried out.
When it happened, it hit her like a tidal wave during a hurricane. Her toes curled, her back arched, and the inner muscles of her vagina throbbed around this man’s cock. Ripples of pleasure became surges of ecstasy, filling her body with the white hot sensations she hadn’t felt in too long.
It didn’t just bring her intense pleasure. It brought a powerful sense of relief. The tension, stress, and inner turmoil that constantly plagued her, both as Natasha Romanov and Black Widow, finally eased under the weight of this feeling. Like a dam that needed to vent immense pressure, it helped ease her many burdens. It helped steady her restless mind. Such moments were exceedingly rare in the life of a master spy, which made them all the more precious.
‘I was even more wrong than I thought. This wasn’t just the burning need of a horny woman. There’s something more to this feeling…much more.’
As her mind lingered in an orgasmic daze, Natasha still felt the man on top of her. He had slowed his movements, having clearly sensed her orgasm. Being so obedient, he didn’t dare prioritize his pleasure over her, although she could tell from his grunts that he too was close to orgasm. His unyielding efforts to obey her didn’t hinder the function of basic male biology. Even if he was a mindless drown, he deserved some reward.
“Go on. Finish…inside me,” Natasha found herself saying.
She hadn’t given much thought to those words. They were likely a byproduct of immersing herself in these feelings of ecstasy. She clung to that feeling, even as the man on top heeded her merciful command.
Natasha felt him thrust into her throbbing pussy a few more times, her various juices making it even easier than before. Finally, once he crossed the same threshold as she did moments ago, he let out a deep moan as he drove into her one more time, releasing a load of his cum into her depths.
“Mmm…ma’am,” was all he got out.
As she heard his blissful moan and felt his imposing body go limp from the ecstasy, Natasha finally opened her eyes. The masked man’s face was still buried between her neck and shoulder, now panting heavily. Looking up at the ceiling, her dazed thoughts settled and she quickly realized something else.
‘I need more of this feeling. One callous romp with a nameless stud just isn’t going to cut it. I’ve been too good a spy and soldier, denying and depriving myself for the sake of my mission. I will not…I CANNOT do that now.’
Despite her body still reeling from her first orgasm, Natasha pushed the masked man on top of her off, removing his rigid cock from her pussy in the process. He offered no resistance, if only because the ecstasy had rendered him dazed. The Russian woman then turned her attention to the two other men on the bed with her.
Near as she could tell, they never diverted their focus from her. They also made sure they were ready to heed her next order, their dicks in their hands and having been kept rock hard. They must’ve been stroking them while watching her have sex with the first man. It was yet another clear indication that, despite being mindless drones, these men still had functioning male biology. That meant seeking more of this feeling would be that much easier.
“You!” said Natasha, pointing to the masked man closest to her. “Lie down on your back. I’m going to ride your cock.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, his ragged breath revealing the extent of his arousal.
The masked man did what she asked, lying down in the center of the bed in the exact spot she’d been in moments earlier. As soon as he was in position, Natasha eagerly got on top of him so that she straddled his pelvis, the tip of his cock pointing right at her dripping wet sex.
The Russian woman was tempted to just drive her hips down and start riding this dick to more pleasure, but she knew that just wouldn’t do this time. The bar had been raised. The breadth of her desire had been revealed. That meant getting creative in pursuing this feeling.
“You!” said Natasha, pointing at the other masked man, whose cock was still in his hand. “Come over here and stand in front of me. I’m going to suck your cock while I fuck.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the man replied, showing just as much arousal as the one under her.
He shot up from his position so that he was standing up on the bed. He then took a position right next to her, making sure his cock was right in her face. As this big piece of manly flesh filled her field of vision, Natasha initiated the next round of sex, thrusting her hips downward and driving another erect penis up into her vagina.
Another round of hot sensations, evoked by such hard penetration, filled her body. Now that she was more familiar with such sensations, it wasn’t as abrupt or overwhelming as before. Natasha just started riding this man’s dick, moving her hips and feeling the folds of her pussy slide up and down his shaft.
As she re-established the sexual movements from earlier, Natasha closed her eyes again and enveloped the cock in front of her with her mouth. Following the same desires that drove this feeling, she began sucking and licking along his length, working her head back and forth with lustful hunger.
Flushed with sexual energy and the pleasure that came with it, the master spy embraced a more active role in pursuing these desires. She rode the cock of the man under her, placing one hand on his abdomen for balance. She sucked the other cock in front of her, squeezing the base with her other hand to keep the blissful sensations flowing in every direction.
These were not the simple, basic sex acts that Natasha initially pursued. This was the kind of stuff usually reserved for Emma Frost’s private affairs or Tony Stark’s birthday parties. She’d heard any number of stories about the kind of debauchery that took place in such moments. She’d rolled her eyes at such lurid tales. She’d never considered herself that sexual a person either, but maybe that was because she never gave herself this opportunity…one where she could just pursue these desires without reservation or complication.
‘I can’t believe I’m doing this! I’m having sex. I’m sucking a dick. And damn it, I’m enjoying it! It feels good. I don’t just need this. I WANT this! I want it and I’m going to enjoy every goddamn second of it!’
Her thoughts raced as Natasha pushed her needs and wants even further. She rode the man under her harder, her pelvis repeatedly smacking against his every time she drove her hips downward. She felt her breasts bounce with every movement, which somehow added to the feeling. Along with these heated movements, she sucked the cock in front of her harder, evoking deeper and deeper moans from the man.
Her intense efforts led to more pleasure…pleasure that escalated faster than expected. It might have been her super soldier biology aiding her, as it so often did during dangerous covert missions – that, or maybe she was just really horny. This rapid rise in pleasure sent her to the brink of another orgasm. This inspired even more creativity, which required her to cease sucking the other man’s dick.
“My breasts…rub them!” Natasha ordered. “I’m getting…close!”
“Yes…ma’am,” said the man under her, his labored breathing also hinting at an approaching orgasm.
The man under her, despite Natasha’s hard riding, still obeyed her. He reached up and grasped her bouncing breasts with both hands. Then, as she rode and rocked her body to the rhythm, the masked man rubbed them with uncanny skill, likely due to more of the Inner Circle’s conditioning .
The feeling of having her breasts rubbed, along with the rapid rhythm with which her pussy slithered along his cock, sent Natasha over the edge for her second orgasm.
“Oohhh I’m coming again! I’m coming…again!” she exclaimed.
Again, her lower back arched, her inner muscles throbbed, and she let out another moan of euphoria as fresh waves of pleasure washed over her body. It wasn’t as intense or overwhelming as the first, but it was every bit as enjoyable.
Natasha enjoyed it so much that she didn’t realize that she was stroking the dick in front of her extra hard. For a master spy who was supposed to be so aware of her surroundings, this was a hell of an oversight. The consequences, however, were hardly as dire. All it did was send the man standing next to her over the edge.
“Ma’am…” he said with sharp grunt as his only warning.
She barely heard him, far too lost in her orgasm to notice. It only became clear when she felt a thick stream of semen splatter onto her face and breasts. This caused her to finally open her eyes again, just in time to see some fluid land right on her lips. In her daze, she found herself licking it up, the salty taste not bothering her in the slightest.
After the waves of pleasure subsided, Natasha looked up at the masked man, seeing a hint of remorse in his otherwise-blank case. She responded with a reassuring grin, an expression that was exceedingly rare for a hardened Russian spy.
“It’s okay,” Natasha told him. “You’ll have other chances to make it up to me.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” he replied, bowing his head respectfully.
The fact she mentioned other chances revealed the extent of her desires. It saved her the trouble of wondering whether this would be enough. Natasha, now locked in this daze of lust, knew without a doubt that she would need more of this feeling to get what she wanted.
‘I’m not stopping. I CAN’T stop. For the good of my soul – what’s left of it, anyways – I can’t stop.’
She abandoned what remained of her reservations. Natasha was now committed to fucking these men until she was fulfilled.
The man under her was still inside her, his dick buried deep within her throbbing folds. Even with her lower body still reeling from another orgasm, she started riding him again. However, as she resumed her movements, she briefly noticed the first man she’d fucked. She saw that his dick was fully erect again. Whether by the Inner Circle’s conditioning or overactive male biology, watching her have sex got him aroused again.
In her unrestrained state, Natasha went to work making good on this lurid commitment. That meant getting both crude and creative with her desires.
“You…get behind me and fuck my ass,” she ordered the masked man.
“Yes, ma’am,” the man replied, showing renewed eagerness.
She’d said these words without thinking them through, but it was too late to change her mind. Within seconds, the masked man got behind her and bent her over so that her breasts were mashing up against the chest of the man under her. Then, she felt the other man prop himself up on his knees, guide his dick towards her ass, and align the tip with her tight hole. With another simple thrust of his hips, he drove his dick up into her ass.
“Hnn…it’s in!” Natasha groaned.
“Ma’am…” the masked man said flatly.
“I’m fine!” she quickly replied.
The man didn’t move a muscle at first, allowing Natasha a moment to process this feeling. She clenched the nearby bedsheets and let out a deep grunt at the sensations that followed, feeling her insides stretch to accommodate his hard flesh.
At first, there was pain, but it was hardly enough to dissuade her. She’d received the best torture endurance training that the KGB could offer and had used it on more than one occasion. The momentary discomfort from anal sex was nothing. The promise of more pleasure – more of this desperately-needed feeling – kept her focused on the task that hand.
“Start…moving!” Natasha commanded. “Fuck me! Fuck me…in both holes!”
“Yes, ma’am,” the two men inside her replied.
Not questioning her desire, or even if the discomfort had passed, the two men began coordinating once more. The man on top of her started moving his hips, working his cock inside her ass. The man under her coordinated his movements, thrusting upward into her pussy with greater vigor.
Before long, the two masked men established a perfect rhythm. Like well-oiled pistons, one dick pumped inside her butt while the other slithered effortlessly within the folds of her throbbing cunt. As Natasha’s body rocked hard under the force of these heated movements, a new flood of sensations shot through her like a rocket. Some of it was still discomfort from being anally penetrated. Most of it was pleasure though. Together, it made for a unique blend of sensations that sent her deeper into this world of ecstasy.
‘Two men…I’m being fucked by two men now. One’s fucking my ass. One’s fucking my pussy. Pain, pleasure, orgasm, comfort, discomfort…I don’t know the difference anymore. I don’t even care. All I know is…I still need this. I still want this. It’s just a matter of how far I’m willing to go.’
The Russian woman closed her eyes again and soaked in the feeling that followed. She stopped trying to make sense of it. There was no use assessing it like a spy would. She’d crossed the point of no return. The only thing left to do was keep following these desires to the end, however deviant that might be.
More moans and Russian profanity echoed throughout the room as the two men fucked her. They didn’t go easy on her either and she didn’t order them to change that. They pumped their cock into her holes hard and fast, letting out rounds of grunts along the way. They might have had limited mental capacity, but they could still process the basic pleasures of sex.
This led to the man under her climaxing before she reached another orgasm. Natasha felt it when her body stopped rocking for a moment and sensed another thick load of cum shoot up into her pussy. This reprieve didn’t last long though. Shortly after the man under her finished, the man on top of her grasped her shoulders and pulled her up, withdrawing the man’s dick from her pussy in the process.
“Yes! Keep…going!” Natasha urged him.
The man behind her got the message. With his dick still deep in her ass, he resumed his thrusting. He didn’t go easier on her either. There was no lubricant, preparation, or anything of the sort. It wasn’t as though Natasha expected to have anal sex today, but she’d put her body through worse strain. Like any mission, this led to a payoff.
It came in the form of another mind-numbing orgasm. Any and all discomfort morphed into white-hot pleasure that erupted from her core like a volcano. In a fit of ecstasy, Natasha clenched the sheets of the bed, threw her head back, and let out a stream of Russian profanity that would’ve made any hardline communists blush.
Even with this latest orgasm, the masked man behind her kept fucking her. His dick still deep in her ass, he kept moving to maintain the rhythm. He even tightened his grip on her to help her keep her balance. It was somewhat disorienting, but she hadn’t forgotten what she told him. She commanded that he keep fucking her and he just did what he was told.
This man wasn’t going to stop. None of these men were going to stop until they’d catered to her every whim. Opening her eyes again, Natasha saw that the two men in front of her were already eager for more commands. They both were stroking their cocks, keeping them nice and hard for her. Even though she’d brought them all to orgasm at least once by now, they were ready to keep serving her.
“Didn’t…you hear? I said…keep going!” said Natasha sternly. “Keep…fucking me! Fuck me…until I’m satisfied!”
“Yes, ma’am,” the two men said in perfect unison.
“Good! Now get over here so I can suck your cocks.”
That was another string of words that Natasha hadn’t thought through. She didn’t bother either. She just licked her lips, waited for the two men to get in front of her, and then closed her eyes once more as the pleasure came to her.
Descending deeper into her decadent daze, the Russian super spy went about achieving this satisfaction she craved. The masked man behind her kept fucking her ass while she sucked the cocks of the two men in front of her. She sucked them thoroughly, allowing herself to get a little sloppy at times. Drool and various other floods began dripping down her face. It might have been messy, but it helped add to the feeling.
For once, she didn’t have to be so damn precise. She didn’t have to be so damn careful with every move. There was something inherently liberating about that, abandoning the focus and scrutiny of being a master spy.
While she sucked off these men, the one fucking her ass climaxed again, shooting another load of his cum into her. Another thick load of manly fluid filled her depths, adding to this overall feeling of reckless ecstasy. It wasn’t enough to make her orgasm again, but it added more fuel to her lust. However, the flow of sensations couldn’t stop. Natasha refused to let it and these men remained dedicated to keeping it going.
“Again…do it again!” was all Natasha said this time.
The men didn’t need specifics. Before she knew it, she was on top of another man, riding his cock with her pussy again. The other man remained in front of her so she could keep sucking his dick. She went at it like this, sucking one cock while riding another, until she achieved another orgasm. After that, it was only a matter of her stamina keeping up with her desire.
It played out in a steady succession decadent acts. In one, she was on her back again, her legs hitched over the shoulders of a masked man while he thrust his cock into her, triggering another orgasm in her and another release with him. In the next, she was on her side, one leg bent back as another man pounded his dick into her dripping cunt at an angle while she sucked the dick of another man right next to her. This earned her another orgasm and another shot of semen on the face. In another, Natasha found herself on her hands and knees, one of the men fucking her ass from behind while she sucked the dick of another man in front of her. Another orgasm followed, along with another mouthful of semen.
‘All this sex…all this pleasure…when did this happen? How did it get this…this intense? Has being a master spy just taken its toll on me? I thought I just needed a reprieve from all the lies and deception, but I guess I needed something more…so much more than I ever could’ve imagined.’
This onslaught of lust, desire, and ecstasy filled the Russian super spy with all sorts of chaotic thoughts. However, she was not in a position to make sense of them, nor did she care to anymore. She’d descended this far into this daze of debauchery. She might as well see it through.
Natasha stopped keeping track of the various sex acts in which she indulged. Like any high-stakes mission, she pushed herself to the limit in order to get the job done. This meant many elaborate positions, many rounds of heated sex, and many powerful orgasms. Even these men – these men who had been conditioned for such extensive acts – struggled to keep up.
Eventually, even her enhanced physiology reached its limits. Even the most daring missions had to end at some point. The masked men could no longer keep up. Their heavy breathing, labored grunting, and strained movements hinted that they were reaching the extent of their conditioning. Despite this approaching fatigue, Natasha refused to leave anything to chance.
“One more,” she told them, her voice having become muffled and strained. “Just…one more.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said one of the masked men, still as obedient as ever.
In this final decadent act, Natasha lay on her side with the masked man behind her. He was also on his side, his hands on her hips while he pumped his dick into her pussy. He wasn’t going as hard or as fast as earlier. He wasn’t too gentle either, delivering a little extra force with each thrust, as if to fuck the last bit of desire out of her.
As Natasha held onto the sheets again, keeping her eyes closed for this last gasp at ecstasy, she let out desperate moans as she absorbed the hot sensations. After so much sex, soreness began mixing with the pleasure, but the Russian super spy effectively shut it all out. She continued to focus only on the pleasure that she sought, knowing it was the only way for her to quench this need.
“Just…a bit…more!” Natasha panted. I’m going to…come!”
Finally, the last surge of ecstasy shot through her. Still clenching her bed sheets, Natasha buried her face in the pillow as the familiar feelings of orgasm flowed through her. A warm blanket of bliss covered her body from head to toe, filling her with the most basic of pleasures.
‘Love…lust…loss…sex…at the end of the day, they all blend together. They don’t need to be so complicated or agonizing. They can be reduced to their most basic feelings. For a master spy living in a world of lies, that’s the best I can hope for.’
It finally came together, every decadent sex act culminating in this fateful moment. Still breathing heavily, her face half-buried in the pillow, Natasha opened her eyes again. The orgasm had passed and the soreness from so much exertion caught up with her.
The man lying behind her carefully withdrew his dick from her, allowing her inner muscles to finally relax. She was so drained that she could barely move. Her legs had turned to mush. Every inch of her naked skin was covered in a light layer of sweat. Other parts of her body – namely her face, tits, and inner thighs – dripped with various male and female juices. The sheer weight of all the sex, decadence, and debauchery finally sank in. She asked for this knowing she had many pent up frustrations to vent. She had no idea she had this much to vent.
“Bozhi moi,” she said under her breath. “I did it. I…I really did it.”
Now lying on her side, still unable to move, Natasha took in deep, steady breaths in an effort to help her body recover. The man who had been fucking her from behind rolled over, giving her some extra space. The other two men had already tapped out, lying next to her and panting heavily from so much exertion. Even with their conditioning, they had their limits. It looked like she’d pushed them to the brink. It said a lot about what she just did and why she did it.
She probably could’ve asked them to do more, even if it just involved sucking her nipples or licking off all the fluids from her naked body. The Russian super spy opted to give them a breather. Mindless drones or not, they’d earned it.
“Leave me,” Natasha told them. “I wish to be alone.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the three of them replied, once again in perfect unison.
Once more, they obeyed her command. Despite their drained state, they got off the bed and left her to herself, still naked, sweaty, and disheveled. They didn’t even gather their pants. They just slipped out the door, leaving Natasha to her still-chaotic thoughts. However, in wake of everything she just did and the ecstasy it brought her, a new clarity finally began to settle in.
‘Spend too much time surrounded by lies and you start to forget what real truth feels like. At some point, you stop trusting your senses. You can’t rely on your instincts. Everything becomes a lie…another ruse to uncover. I don’t ever want to get to that point. I can’t…I won’t forget. This experience – this long string of crude, decadent deeds – it’s as real and as raw as can be. The feelings, the sensations, and the pleasure…it’s all real. It reminds me that I can still feel what’s true and real. I NEEN that reminder. Even if it means relying on Emma Frost and the goddamn Hellfire Club, I need it.’
It was a bittersweet, but welcome clarity. It was what she hoped to find when she requested this favor from Emma Frost and then some. Now, as she lay on this bed in this private room within this secret club, the Black Widow felt her first sense of peace in a long, long time. This feeling – this peace that came with the raw, basic sensations of the simplest acts – it gave her the perspective that every master spy needed. If she was to continue – to be both the Black Widow and Natasha Romanov – she had to cling to this perspective as best she could.
Up next: The Stranger
AN: That’s the end of the first chapter. I intend to make at least one more for this short story. The next one will flash forward to when Mary Jane Watson is the Red Queen. Expect her to help Black Widow in her own special way. Until then, please take the time to leave a review or contact me with your feedback. I’m happy to chat and always eager for ways to improve a story. Until next time, take care!