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Spoils of War	By : razzaname Category: Marvel Verse Movies > no category yet Views: 49626 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own the MCU or Thor Ragnarok and I make no money from this fic.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
Natasha sometimes thought she was the only sane one.
The only thing that baffled her was how Hela had never touched her, not even during her first time. Her induction, as she’d come to think of it, hers and Wanda’s. Sure, they’d been some idle physical contact, and the first time she’d been ordered around, but since then…
Hela might as well have ignored her. Natasha wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. On one hand it did free up her time to explore the palace, search for Asgardian weapons they might have power against Hela and might help the Earth; on the other, she was spending every waking second waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And then there were the others. Her fellow spoils had taken full advantage of Hela’s proclamation that she was to be the least among them, to obey them the way they obeyed Hela.
Which did limit her time somewhat, but it wasn’t major. She was used to doing all manner of things when undercover, and beyond that it wasn’t like she didn’t enjoy it.
She’d left the palace in her first few days there; it was awkward to walk around the populated portions of Asgard when all she wore was the collar common to Hela’s spoils, but easily bearable. Even as the Black Widow she was accustomed to peoples’ eyes wandering.
But it hadn’t helped. The Asgardians she’d found often didn’t want to talk about Hela; if they considered rebellion they wouldn’t trust her to be part of it.
Which meant she’d need some gesture to gain their trust. She was still working on that.
Though there had been a few promising leads in the palace. A weapons vault, Hela’s collection of Stones… It was just a matter of getting access to them.
Natasha continued wandering through the hallway, pondering. The moans coming from nearby barely registered; she’d heard them often enough.
When they lifted to become a scream, she hesitated. Natasha neared, not to be a voyeur but just to make sure she knew who was where.
That voice was Jane’s, and she only seemed to scream quite like that during anal, and in turn only Hela was allowed that pleasure; so logically…
Yes, Jane lay panting on the bed while Hela stood by it. Darcy too was with them, though she was on her knees, eagerly cleaning the Goddess’s cock.
Natasha was getting good at identifying people by their sounds. It wasn’t an exact science but it had always been a handy skill for a spy to have.
She lingered for a couple of minutes before. Now garbed in her armour, Hela strode past her; she barely spared Natasha a second glance.
What was she doing? Natasha was still confused by that. At her induction, she’d been led to believe Hela would use her in all manner of ways, just as she had Wanda and all these others. Instead…
Pushing that aside, Natasha knocked on the door. A moment later she entered Jane and Darcy’s room; the two were spooning on the bed.
Beyond investigation, Natasha’s only ongoing plan was gauging the loyalty of the other spoils. Had they been broken, or if it came down to it could she rely on their support? She liked to keep track.
It wasn’t the easiest thing to be sure of. Understandably a lot could, like her, conceal their true feelings.
“Hey there,” Darcy said, behind Jane. She lazily lifted her head. “Got the energy for round two?”
Jane shifted, not turning back to face her friend but plainly addressing her.
“Are you serious?” Jane said. “After all that-”
“Well, yeah, but,” Darcy gestured. “Black Widow.”
Jane chuckled. “You can have her any time. At some point it’s going to be old hat, you do know that?”
“Never,” Darcy promised.
Despite herself, Natasha was amused. Darcy’s celebrity crush had been responsible for a number of fun hours.
Jane exhaled, but did manage to shift herself, sitting up.
“Sure, I can manage,” Jane said. “Just get her to do most of the work.”
“Right,” Darcy cracked a grin. “On your knees, slave.”
Her tone had become pretentious, intentionally so; Natasha looked at her playful grin, then obeyed. It might not be exactly what she’d come here for, but she was used to it enough by now.
“Wow, cool, that actually worked,” Darcy said. Then, adopting the same pretentious tone; “Crawl over to us.”
“Of course,” Natasha said, getting onto all fours.
“Mistress,” Darcy added.
“Of course, mistress,” Natasha said.
Darcy’s attempt at dominance was rather ruined when she bit her lip, ogling Natasha rather openly. Apparently the sight of Black Widow on her knees for her was still somewhat overwhelming.
“Holy fuck,” Darcy whispered, to Jane. Jane nodded mutely.
It wasn’t far to the bed, but Natasha took her time. She liked to give a bit of a show. Her tits in full view, a glimpse of her ass from over her bowed head…
She crawled to the edge of the bed, then straightened, kneeling up. When she could see the top again, Jane and Darcy had switched places, Darcy now the nearest to her. She slipped off of the bed, moving beside Natasha.
Jane watched; apparently wearier, she’d use the sight to get ready to join in.
“Hey again,” Darcy said, softer.
“Hello mistress,” Natasha said.
“Fuck, I’m never going to get tired of hearing you say that,” Darcy said.
She leaned closer, lips first touching Natasha’s neck, but then trailing down to her chest. Natasha closed her eyes and felt Darcy’s hands grab at her. She never seemed to quite know where to grip.
Part of her felt strange submitting to an untrained civilian like Darcy, though by now she was used to it.
Darcy’s hands finally found her ass, shamelessly groping her, as her tongue snuck out. Jane watched, rather entertained. From Natasha’s chest, Darcy was still able to peer up and meet her friend’s eyes.
“Jane!” Darcy said, reluctantly lifting her lips from a nipple. “Pass me a strap-on.”
There were a row of toys beside the bed; Hela liked to make sure her spoils could entertain themselves. Jane quickly eyed them, before picking up one and leaning over.
Darcy gratefully took it.
“Impatient,” Jane said.
“Do you blame me?” Darcy said. She turned back to Natasha; “Turn around.”
“Yes mistress,” Natasha said.
Ok, this was her job, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy a little of it. Teasing the two of them was fun, and it was hardly her most unpleasant assignment.
Darcy stared the moment she got a better view of Black Widow’s ass. Not that she hadn’t seen it before, she just really loved it. As she watched, she fitted the toy around her own waist.
“Bend over the bed,” Darcy said. She faced Jane; “Feel like joining in yet?”
“I’m happy to watch,” Jane said, biting her lip.
Darcy gave her a grin, and stepped closer. Fuck, she’d never get tired of Natasha’s ass, especially now it was pushed up into the air for her. And for something else she’d never get tired of…
She lined the head of her strap-on with Natasha’s cunt, pushing forward slowly and easily penetrating her, eliciting a long, low gasp. Natasha pushed back into Darcy, eyes flickering shut as the toy filled her.
Natasha was angled so that she faced Jane, meeting the woman’s eyes so she could see every gasp, every cry as Darcy’s pace quickened. Shamelessly, Natasha moaned.
Darcy had gotten pretty good at this; then again, Natasha reflected, she had been getting a fair bit of practise. Darcy was always one of the most eager to play around with new guests, from both top and bottom.
And even if skill wasn’t a factor, there was something to be said for her sheer enthusiasm.
“God- fuck! What do you say?” Darcy said.
“Thank you mistress,” Natasha said, breathless. “Thank you for fucking me, thank you for using me, thank you for filling my slutty wet cunt!”
Dirty talk could feel rote, for her; they were just the same few words, easy things to say to get a reaction, and she knew what Darcy wanted to hear.
Somehow it didn’t feel fake though, they weren’t just things she was saying; she felt the thrill run through her, the fact she was saying those things having almost as much of an effect on her than Darcy’s continued thrusting.
“I’m a fucktoy,” Natasha gasped. “I love it when you fuck me, I love when you show me my place and bend me over for you and use me. Please fuck me harder mistress, please!”
Darcy moaned, slapping Natasha’s ass as she moved.
Jane, meanwhile, still watched, fidgeting slightly. Natasha couldn’t even feel ashamed that someone saw her begging like that.
Some part of Natasha’s mind imagined Hela behind her. It was hard to escape the thought of Hela here; despite all that Natasha knew she was the one person Hela hadn’t touched. She almost longed for it.
Though it wasn’t as though she didn’t get plenty more fun as it was; as cheesy as Darcy’s ‘mistress’ fantasies might be, they still made Natasha cry out.
“Still just want to watch?” Darcy said, to Jane.
Jane faltered slightly.
“Encourage her,” Darcy said, looking down now and smacking Natasha’s ass to punctuate her words.
Natasha gasped.
“Please let me eat you out,” Natasha said. “Let me lick your pussy, make you cum like a good fucktoy, I want to taste you so much, you shouldn’t have to just watch when I can serve you.”
Jane bit her lip. She shifted, still plainly enjoying the sight of her friend dominating Black Widow.
Slowly, she moved, moving a little closer. She still hesitated, less from reluctance and more because she couldn’t bear to tear her gaze from the sight.
Any weariness the two of them might have had after their session with Hela seemed to have been overwhelmed by the latest prospect.
“I’m never going to get used to this,” Jane murmured.
“I know,” Darcy beamed. “Isn’t it great? Go on, sample Black Widow’s tongue, I might give it a try later.”
Natasha moaned, Jane’s cunt right in front of her. She squirmed, and Jane reached forward, roughly, desperately grabbing her hair and closing the last few centimetres between her pussy and Natasha’s lips.
Rather unsurprisingly, Jane was wet. She’d cum when she’d been fucked by Hela, and watching Darcy just then had its natural effect. Natasha closed her eyes to fully relish the taste.
Natasha was good with her tongue too; she soon had Jane moaning, arching her back as she shared the Avenger with Darcy.
“Told you it’d be worth it,” Darcy said.
“It- oh god! It was fun watching you too,” Jane said.
“Want some more fun?” Darcy said.
Jane moaned; Darcy smirked and pulled back, her toy leaving Natasha’s pussy for a moment. And then, with no warning, it was suddenly pushing at the entrance to her ass, sliding inside with a little more force and eliciting a moan.
The sound escaped Natasha’s lips, more from surprise than anything, and travelled through Jane’s core as vibrations.
Darcy didn’t let her pace slow particularly, slamming into Natasha’s ass and gasping with each thrust.
“Fuck,” Darcy said. “I’m going to-”
“Hold on,” Jane said. “Together?”
Darcy nodded, biting her lip.
Some odd part of Natasha thrilled at that. This was about the two of them, not her; they were just fucking her, using her to get off, and sure they might have fantasized about Black Widow but it was one another they were here for.
Fucktoy. Apparently it was more than dirty talk.
Distracting herself from those thoughts, Natasha shifted, tongue moving from skating over Jane’s cunt, to sliding down, moving to rim her-
Jane gripped her hair and tugged her back up.
“Not- ah! Not there. That’s Hela’s,” jane said, and moaned again as Natasha returned her ministrations to Jane’s main hole.
She knew that, Hela had made sure everyone knew she was the sole person allowed to use Jane’s ass; still, part of Natasha was disappointed to see Jane obey so unthinkingly.
They’d be no help in resisting Hela. Then again, they were still good for-
Natasha refocused, tongue circling Jane’s clit as a breathless Darcy kept filling up her ass, thrust after thrust. No matter how practised Natasha was, it still made her moan.
“I’m-” Jane began, and threw her head back to scream; a moment later and Darcy joined her, gasps turning to cries, and her rhythm with using Natasha speeding for a long few seconds, grip on Natasha’s hips tightening.
And then both slumped, Jane lying back and Darcy leaning forwards, cock still buried in Natasha’s ass, and tits against her back.
“We’re so doing this again,” Darcy said, panting.
“You say that every time,” Jane said, just as breathless.
“And we did it again, so it’s true,” Darcy said.
It was a minute before Darcy moved, and Natasha extricated herself, walking a little awkwardly back into the main body of the castle, mind buzzing.
As fun as all this could be, she still had to focus on her role. Hela wanted her to submit to everyone, so she would, but she’d still be thinking about ways to deal with the Asgardian.
Still, it could be hard to pay much attention to that. Natasha blamed their lack of clothes; all any of them ever wore were their collars, never taking them off. With that, there was no transition between sex and non-sex.
Normally, back on Earth, she could get dressed after, use that to mark the point where she returned to being all business. Here that never happened, she’d always have to be ready for being fucked. And, well, she was, but it didn’t help her focus.
Natasha wondered if that was intentional.
“Vormir, you say?”
That was Hela’s voice. Natasha slowed as she realised she was approaching the throne room.
“Yes,” came a voice Natasha recognised as Gamora’s. “It’s there, I’m sure it is. If anyone should know…”
“If you’re correct, I’ll reward you,” Hela said.
“I made her tell you,” Nebula’s voice was the next to speak.
“Indeed?” Hela said. She paused, contemplating. “Then when this is done, I’ll reward both of you. Anything I can give will be yours.”
There was the sound of footsteps; Hela strode out of the throne room, barely pausing as she passed Natasha.
She said nothing. Uncertain, Natasha looked after her, then peered into the throne room.
The alien sisters, Gamora and Nebula, were in there. It was hard to tell whether Hela had just used them, or if they’d only spoken about ‘Vormir,’ whatever that was.
Natasha hadn’t been able to puzzle out much about them. Some of the newcomers did take some getting used to.
Still, they were… busy. Natasha silently backed away from the door.
Even aliens were giving themselves to Hela. Natasha tried not to roll her eyes. Along with them and Hope, Natasha despaired. Sure, Gamora and Nebula paid lip service to it just being a temporary arrangement, but they weren’t fooling anyone except maybe themselves.
Jane and Darcy she could forgive; they were civilians after all. But those two sisters were apparently warriors, Hope had come here to fight, and then there was Wanda. She’d seen Wanda go from virgin to eager sub.
Apparently no one cared about what Hela was doing.
Just then, she heard voices. Different voices too; Natasha followed the sound. Well, she might as well.
They resolved the closer she got, muffled by an ajar door.
“Please, Aunt Peggy, don’t you want to fuck my ass? It’s the one thing you haven’t done yet. If I’m yours, I want all of me to be.”
Oh. Those two. Natasha lingered in the doorway there, curious to see how it would develop.
Peggy Carter had been a surprise, she’d admit that. Of all the people Hela could have come back with, she’d started rummaging through history.
The near-legendary agent… wasn’t what Natasha had expected. She’d never been one to romanticize history, but even so it was quite a leap from moral paragon to just another spoil.
“I don’t know,” Peggy said, after a moment.
“Please,” Sharon said, almost moaning. “Don’t you want to use me?”
“It- I haven’t really used one of… those. I don’t want to hurt you,” Peggy said. “Your- there, it might be too much.”
“I’ll tell you if it is,” Sharon said.
“I don’t want to risk it,” Peggy said. “You’re my niece!”
“I know,” Sharon said. “But that means worrying about hurting me when you fuck my ass shouldn’t be your first worry. If you can forget the rest-”
“Don’t remind me,” Peggy said.
“You don’t like it?” Sharon said.
“I do,” Peggy said. She hesitated, inhaling. “So much. I shouldn’t, but it’s…”
“Hot?” Sharon said.
“Yes,” Peggy said.
“Imagine how it’ll be when I’m screaming with your strap-on in my last hole,” Sharon said. “Please. I’ll beg, I’m happy to beg.”
Natasha neared; she peered through the crack in the doorway. Of all the conversations to overhear…
She’d imagined Peggy as untouchable. And Sharon, Natasha knew a little of Agent 13, and she’d thought she’d have some more dignity at least. She was a SHIELD agent!
And instead Sharon was on her knees, while Peggy bit her lip, clearly tempted.
As ever, both only wore their collars. Peggy had on a strap-on too; no doubt Natasha was intruding on the aftermath of something rather more tame than the incestuous anal Sharon was pleading for.
“When I get more used to this,” Peggy said. She gestured at her toy.
Sharon’s face fell. Then, suddenly, she straightened.
“Is someone there?” Sharon said, looking straight at the door. Peggy followed her gaze, and frowned.
“Who’s she?” Peggy said. Her eyes flicked up and down Natasha’s body.
“Natasha Romanov,” Sharon said. She was still slightly breathless. “Black Widow. A hero, in my time.”
“Romanov?” Peggy echoed.
Natasha walked into the room; if she’d been noticed there was no point in hiding. Still, she considered Peggy’s tone.
Maybe that was to be expected. She’d been plucked out of the 40s or 50s, either way pretty close to the cold war. A few cultural differences were to be expected, even if Hela’s influence had done away with some of the more prudish norms.
“Defector,” Natasha said.
“But a Russian spy?” Peggy said.
“Former,” Natasha said.
Sharon shifted. Suddenly she was smiling.
“This is perfect!” Sharon said. “Aunt Peggy, if you want to get more used to using that, you can practise. She’s got to be pretty good at taking it, and Hela said she’s free for all of us to use.”
“Really?” Peggy said, thoughtful.
“Yeah,” Sharon said. “On Earth she’s, uh, kinda popular.”
“I… wouldn’t mind working out a few… frustrations,” Peggy said. She turned back to Natasha. “If Dotty’s not here, you’ll do.”
Natasha only lingered for a second.
Ok, she’d expected more of both of the Carters. She’d never thought she’d meet Peggy Carter in her prime, but if she’d imagined it, it wouldn’t have been like this.
And it definitely wouldn’t have been with her niece eagerly watching.
“Come closer,” Peggy said. There was a renewed confidence in her tone. “Do you know what I’m going to do to you?”
Somehow, that sent a shiver through Natasha. Ok, this was happening. She did not know how she felt about that.
Ok, that was a lie, she knew exactly how she felt, she just couldn’t help but be a little self-conscious about the sudden rush of heat between her legs. She wanted this far, far too much.
And honestly she couldn’t even blame Hela for that particular fact.
“Yes,” Natasha said, throat dry.
“Tell me,” Peggy said.
Natasha barely hesitated, meeting Peggy’s eyes. She was hardly immune to Peggy’s reputation; ok, this was absolutely not what she’d expected, but then again she was hardly opposed to a turn.
Even if submitting was never what she’d had in mind.
“You’re going to practise on me,” Natasha said. “You’re going to use my ass. Hard. Please.”
“Then turn around,” Peggy said.
Natasha was almost embarrassed by how quickly she obeyed. God, she never used to be this eager to submit. Sure, she’d do it if a mission needed it, but never any more than that.
Now, though, she got on her knees whenever she was asked. She found herself breathless, waiting for Peggy.
Peggy Carter in a strap-on, now there was a sight.
She looked back over her shoulder, trying not to seem too desperate. It was hard not to.
Fuck, she was usually better than this. Apparently she couldn’t put all the blame on everyone else for being caught up in Hela’s Asgard.
Peggy shifted closer; she rested the tip of her toy between Natasha’s cheeks, almost teasing, caressing without quite inserting.
“Do it,” Sharon said breathlessly.
She was staring, almost lustful. Apparently she fully intended to live vicariously through Natasha; she had a toy in one hand, albeit one smaller than Peggy’s own, poised at her own anal entrance.
“Go on aunt Peggy,” Sharon said. “Please, fuck her ass. I’ll open up mine ready for you right after, but you should practise on her, make her scream your name like I’d scream for you. She’s everyone’s bottom and she’ll be perfect for you.”
Natasha bit her lip, feeling Peggy line up the toy.
This should have been nothing. It was just sex; maybe not exactly vanilla, but nothing too beyond her usual. Why then couldn’t she help the thrill that went through her?
It felt like it was down to more than the fact that it was Peggy Carter wielding the strap-on.
A long, low moan escaped Natasha’s lips as Peggy slid forward; she could hear the agent exhale as Nat’s ass opened up for her. Completing the harmony was a moan from Sharon as she used her own toy, inserting it at the same speed that Peggy moved.
Only halfway down and Peggy drew back; Natasha moaned, her disappointment audible.
“Do you really want more, Romanov?” Peggy said.
“As much as you’ve got,” Natasha said. “Please.”
Peggy rested both hands on Natasha’s behind, poised to grip.
“You really are just a submissive whore, aren’t you?” Peggy said. She sounded almost awed.
Natasha didn’t answer. Instead she just cried out as Peggy slid forwards again; that time Peggy didn’t stop until every inch of the toy was inside her.
She leant forwards, against Nat’s back, barely able to believe both that she’d buried her toy in Natasha’s ass, and that Nat was clearly enjoying herself.
God, now she really was looking forward to moving onto Sharon. Maybe it was wrong, but the idea of feeling her niece’s ass open around her toy like Nat’s had… It was intoxicating.
Not that she wanted to rush this. Maybe this wasn’t exactly the Russian spy she’d wanted at her mercy, but Peggy wasn’t going to say no to this perfect ass.
“Mm, that’s it aunt Peggy, show me what you’ll do to me,” Sharon said, watching eagerly.
Peggy started moving; she couldn’t decide what was more fun to watch. There was Sharon, an excited look in her eyes and her constant use of her toy, or there was the way her own strap-on slid forwards, how Nat’s tightest hole nonetheless managed to accommodate it.
Natasha moaned. There wasn’t any point in pretending that she didn’t love this, even if she didn’t want to spend too much time thinking about why it felt so stand-out.
She pushed back, silently urging Peggy on while Sharon did the same more vocally.
“Are you really as much of a whore as her?” Peggy said, thrusting into Natasha again. “Look at how easily she’s taking it, at how…”
Peggy slipped her fingers around, then faltered for a moment, apparently legitimately surprised by how wet Natasha was. Honestly Natasha was in a similar boat; she always enjoyed her job, but reacting this much was… rare
Natasha moaned again, louder, as Peggy’s fingers dipped inside.
“You really are loving this Romanov, aren’t you?” Peggy said, voice low.
“God yes,” Natasha moaned, not sure why the words slipped out.
“Sharon,” Peggy said. “She’s so wet from this, she practically begged me to fuck her ass, and she’s not even struggling. She’s enjoying giving this up to me. Are you really that much of a whore?”
“If you want me to be, aunt Peggy,” Sharon said. “I’ll always be a whore for you, and I want you to fuck my ass, I really want you to, I want you to use every bit of me. I’ll be even more of a slut if you let me, I promise, I- ah!”
Sharon kept moving the toy, even as she spoke; just watching made Peggy quicken.
And it wasn’t long before Natasha came, screaming out, rocking back against Peggy’s toy cock. Peggy gripped her hips tighter; Natasha didn’t slow.
“Fuck, oh fuck!” Natasha couldn’t help but scream.
Then, breathlessly, she slumped forwards. Ok, that had been… a lot.
Sharon was still watching, flushed and breathless and still slowly moving her own toy, almost jealously.
“That was…” Peggy said, voice a touch raspier than usual.
“Want to go again?” Sharon said. She was already trying to move closer. “Please. I can’t tell you how much more I want you now; was that enough practise?”
“I-” Peggy said.
She looked over to her niece, biting her lip. Sharon felt a thrill; plainly she hadn’t been the only Carter to enjoy that.
“Should I get another toy?” Peggy said.
“Don’t waste time,” Sharon said. Then she smirked; “Nat, want to clean it off for us? Be quick. Please.”
Sharon was audibly out of breath; Natasha too took a moment to steady her breathing before turning around. She met Peggy’s eyes for a moment, before opening her mouth and leaning forwards.
“You really are a slut, Romanov,” Peggy said, staring as Nat tasted her own ass.
God, why did she keep feeling that thrill go through her? Natasha whimpered, the sound muffled, only to gasp again as she felt Sharon’s hand on the back of her head.
“Save some of that dirty talk for me,” Sharon said.
“You want to be a whore?” Peggy said.
“Only for you,” Sharon said.
Sharon pushed; the toy hit the back of Natasha’s throat, and she kept bobbing, tongue circling the toy. Natasha closed her eyes, feeling Sharon’s hand wind in her hair.
The Carters kissed over her head. Part of Nat knew she should be reacting more to that, but it was hard to focus on much more than the taste of her ass, and the aftershocks of being used.
“Do you think it’s ready?” Peggy said, voice husky.
“You sound eager,” Sharon said. “God, I hope so.”
Sharon pulled back on Natasha’s head; Natasha gasped, surprised at how reluctant she was to move back from cleaning the toy. Peggy and Sharon, meanwhile, seemed too distracted by each other to focus on her.
“I prepared myself,” Sharon said, “You got practise. Your toy’s clean, and lubed up thanks to her. I can’t think of any other reason for you to delay.”
“I can think of a couple,” Peggy said, and paused. “I can ignore them.”
“Glad it hear it,” Sharon said. “Come over here aunt Peggy, fuck my ass, please, make my last hole yours.”
Sharon got on her knees. Natasha watched from the side as Peggy approached, lingering for a moment in front of her niece.
“I really shouldn’t like it when you call me that,” Peggy said.
“But you do?” Sharon said.
“I like everything about you,” Peggy said. “What you say, how you beg… And especially this rather lovely ass.”
Peggy knelt too, the moment she was behind Sharon. She ran one hand over the curve of Sharon’s behind, almost teasing.
There was a flicker of something in Peggy’s expression; it wasn’t hesitation, rather a surprise that she felt no hesitation.
She shifted, lining her toy up to ready herself to fuck someone’s ass for the second time that very minute. Sharon moaned needily.
“Please,” Sharon gasped. “I need this. I’ve wanted it for so long, to show you how much I’m yours. An anal whore if you want me to be. Aunt Peggy, fuck me, please, fuck my- ah!”
Peggy pushed forward. Despite the keenness in her eyes she was still tentative, slowly opening Sharon’s tightest hole up around her toy.
Now Natasha found herself watching the incestuous duo, rather than being watched; now she was aching again, almost jealously watching.
Sharon half-screamed from bliss as Peggy’s toy finished sliding in. Peggy stopped, panting.
“Are you-” Peggy said.
“It’s perfect,” Sharon said, an edge of a whimper to her voice.
Peggy raised her eyebrows.
“You really are an anal whore,” Peggy said, half-surprised and half-appreciative.
Sharon moaned, wriggling her ass to urge Peggy on; Peggy gasped softly at the friction.
“You’re being buggered and you still want more,” Peggy said. “A lesbian anal slut. God, why did I wait so long to do this to you?”
She started moving again; Sharon might have wanted to respond, but she only cried out, ecstatic.
Sharon dug her hands into the floor, doing her utmost to keep her grip. White-knuckled, she moaned again, still moving her hips in time with Peggy’s thrusts.
God, she’d dreamed about this. Being Peggy’s fucktoy had always been a fantasy, but after coming here she’d longed for Peggy to take her in her last hole, and finally, finally…
She could barely take it, even after her preparations, but that was the best part. Truly submitting, giving everything to her aunt, and loving every second of it.
“Oh fuck!” Sharon yelled.
She squirmed, crying out again as Peggy moved forwards once more. When she came she still screamed, only barely supporting herself with her arms, and still moving, still writhing back against Peggy’s thrusts.
Sharon gasped for air; at long last her arms gave way, head slumping forwards against the floor, but her hips stayed moving.
“Did you- you really just came from being buggered,” Peggy said.
“God yes,” Sharon moaned. “I want more. Please aunt Peggy, keep fucking me. I want to make you cum too, I want you to keep using my ass, fuck, please, fuck, I need you.”
She whimpered; Peggy faltered despite herself.
“My niece is a lesbian slut,” Peggy murmured.
“God yes,” Sharon said. “Your lesbian fucktoy. My cunt, my ass, whatever you want, please aunt Peggy!”
“My dyke slut,” Peggy said.
Sharon moaned as Peggy once more started moving. That time Peggy wasn’t holding back, and Sharon cried out all the louder for it.
Natasha slowly backed away. It seemed like they’d forgotten about her, not that she could blame them, but even so it was hard not to stare.
Was that how she’d looked?
There was the slap of skin against skin as Peggy kept moving, back arching as she relished the friction the toy gave against her. It was definitely a newer sensation, but one she could absolutely get used to.
Peggy Carter, cheeks flushed, lips parted, and ramming her toy into her niece’s ass. By any metric, this was not even close to the woman Natasha had expected.
Leaving the duo to their fun, Natasha reluctantly moved out of the room. She heard a cry as Peggy came, then heard the sound of flesh against flesh once more, indicating that they weren’t planning on stopping.
Wow. This place…
Natasha still didn’t have a complete read on it. Ok, it was impressive; it was an Asgardian palace after all. But then there was Hela, all the women who…
Who’d volunteered, Natasha could hardly question that. And honestly she couldn’t blame them, it was hard not to be tempted by everything there, especially Hela and her urging.
But, no, that wasn’t why she was there. She was keeping an eye on things, trying to find some weakness she could use, some people who could help. The sex was, well, a plus.
The hard part was admitting that she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted this to end.
She wandered, slowly finding her way to what she knew to be Hela’s throne room. She hadn’t been entirely sure where she was going, but she supposed it was as good a place as any. Hela wasn’t there, just then. She’d left after her talk with the alien sisters.
Natasha slowly walked into the room. Despite herself she kept glancing around, heart beating faster. Damn it, she should be used to nerves, she shouldn’t be scared of Hela returning.
Unless it wasn’t fear.
Tentatively, Natasha waited. All this idle speculation, it reminded her of the fact that Hela had barely touched her. Sure, all the rest of Hela’s ‘spoils’ had been given a fun turn, but as far as direct experiences with Hela herself there was none.
What was she meant to make of that?
Maybe it made investigation easier, but it couldn’t help but linger at the back of her mind. Every other woman here had been treated to submitting to Hela, but Natasha…
What, did she want Hela to- Natasha swallowed, quickly moving onto other thoughts.
Or trying to, at least. This would be so much easier if she could just focus on the mission, but she couldn’t honestly say she was sure that was her priority any more.
Footsteps.
Natasha quickly jumped, then schooled both her expression and posture as she turned.
Hela looked every inch the Queen of Asgard once more, black branches extending from her crown, her armour-like garb shining green. She strode quickly through the throne room, looking dead ahead.
She only glimpsed Natasha in her peripheral vision; she seemed distracted.
Then Hela slowed as she reached her.
“Hela,” Natasha said, throat dry.
There was a pause. Hela’s expression shifted; was that a smirk?
“Yes?” Hela said.
“I…” Natasha said. Screw it, she’d begged before. “Will you fuck me? Please. Whatever you want, however you want it, I-”
“Save your breath,” Hela said, a touch more impatiently than Natasha had ever seen her. “This…”
Hela paused. What was going on?
“This is not a good time,” Hela said. “But I will remind you of this; I know that you’re a spy. Each of my toys gives me something unique because it means something to them, but there is nothing I could ask you to do that would mean anything to you, that you would not do for any mission.”
“So you’ll never…” Natasha said. She hated how her voice trailed off, but it sounded far too crude to finish the thought.
“Do you want me to?” Hela said.
“Yes,” Natasha said, quickly.
“Truly, or are you just saying what I’d wish to hear?” Hela said.
“I- really,” Natasha said. Fuck, now she was blushing like some idiot schoolgirl, far too aware that she was telling the truth. “I’ve switched sides before. Admittedly for more than sex, but I want to know what it’s like to… do what they do. I’ll worship you, give you my cunt, or my ass, or both, clean your toy after, or get on my knees and lick you until you’re satisfied. Whatever you want.”
Hela paused. Now she was definitely smiling.
“Prove it,” Hela said.
“How?” Natasha said.
“You tell me,” Hela said. “Anything I order you to do, you could reconcile away. I want you to do something of your own accord to prove you want to be mine; something that might fail, but you’ll do it anyway because it’s what I want.”
Hela paused.
“Not now,” she said. “I have business. But think on it.”
Hela looked away, walking past her throne. Less than a minute later and she was walking back, now heading the way she’d come out of the palace and back to the Bifrost. Her wolf Fenris trudged behind her, eyes alight with green fire.
“A suggestion,” Hela said, her voice surprisingly soft. “Attend to Gamora and Nebula. Their information about Vormir was… accurate. And do not disturb me for two days.”
Hela departed, leaving Natasha behind. Almost an hour later she returned to the palace, now without Fenris, but with something bright and orange clasped in her hand.
- 9
- 10
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Spoils of War