Disclaimer: Do not own Marvel or The 100
Warnings for Clarke having rape fantasies and humiliation kinks and most likely suffering from self-loathing. Warnings as well for child abandonment and child abuse and mentions of past murders.
Keeping our baby busy
The plan was very simple.
Keep Clarke busy while Laura, Natasha, Pepper and the others did what they could to find a good therapist for Clarke.
Which meant that Wanda and Pietro Maximoff got to do the fun part of the job.
Which was to say, fucking Clarke Griffin's brains out.
As soon as the three of them got close to Wanda's car, her black Fiat, parked alongside the sidewalk, Wanda spoke up, quietly enough that only she, Clarke and Pietro heard, "My car, my rules. So, Pietro, you drive, while I fuck Clarke."
Clarke grinned in excitement at those words, but Pietro groaned, sounding forlorn.
Clarke tried not to laugh. Pietro was such a drama queen. Were it not for Tony, Thor and Hela, Pietro might just be the biggest drama queen of all her lovers.
Wanda pulled out her keys and handed them to Pietro. Pietro opened up the car, got into the front seat, switched on the car, and closed the door up. As soon as Clarke got into the backseat of the car, Wanda pushed her down, and got in, closed the door behind her and got on top of Clarke, startling the blond.
She gasped, when she felt something poking against her thigh, which told her that Wanda was packing.
Wanda grabbed Clarke's wrists and pinned them down to the leather seats, right above Clarke's head, right near the opposite door that they had come in from, and pulled her right hand away from Clarke's wrists, her left hand wrapping around Clarke's wrists and holding them in place, her right hand reaching to Clarke's pants and unzipping them.
Clarke moaned when her pants were almost all the way down, just enough that her lower torso was exposed, which gave Wanda access to her groin.
Wanda then reached under her black leather skirt and lifted it up, her strap-on now exposed and she jutted her hips forward just a bit, so that the tip was just about to enter Clarke's vaginal entrance.
Clarke gasped at the feeling, arching instantly up into Wanda.
Pietro started up the car's engine, pulled the car out of parking and started driving the car down the road, and put on very loud music so that no one would notice the moans and cries that were about to fill the car.
Wanda said, "Safe word?"
Her voice held no room for argument. Either Clarke came up with a safe word, or they weren't doing this.
Clarke groaned, and said, "Crater."
"Good girl," Wanda said, knowing that Clarke didn't want to bother with a safe word, but it was needed, nonetheless.
Wanda then hovered over Clarke and grinned wickedly at the blond as she was about to thrust the fake cock into Clarke. "Want my cock, slut? Like getting railed in a car where everyone could see you taking cock like a whore?"
Clarke moaned again, trying to jut her hips harder against Wanda, trying to get Wanda to push the cock further in. "Yes," she moaned, "Yes, I want that. Please."
"Please, what, slut kitten?" Wanda asked teasingly, preparing her hips, getting ready to thrust all the way into Clarke's tight warmth.
As Pietro made a turn on the road, getting closer to Wanda's house, Clarke moaned out, "Please, mistress, please fuck your slut kitten."
Wanda and Pietro both grinned lecherously at the words and Wanda purred as she thrust the strap all the way into Clarke, up to the hilt, "Good slut kitten."
The strap went all the way into Clarke's groin, stroking along the blond's clit, making her moan loudly into the music-filled car.
Wanda railed into Clarke's cunt like she was trying to kill the younger woman, her right hand joining her left in grabbing and holding Clarke's hands above the blonde's head as she pounded into Clarke's pussy.
"The best part of this," Wanda laughed and her voice was easily heard by Clarke, even with the loud rock music playing, since Wanda was right flush up against Clarke, "Even if you said you didn't want this? I could do this to you all I wanted. I could fuck you for hours if I wanted, and even if you begged me not to, I could fuck you till you bled. And no one would be able to do a thing about it, because the music would be playing and no one would know that I'm raping my little whore."
Clarke moaned, body writhing as Wanda angled her hips and thrust a particularly smooth thrust into Clarke, and likely also aroused by Wanda's vulgar words.
Wanda listened carefully for Clarke's safe word. Clarke was not using any safe word.
Which was in no way a surprise.
Clarke was very used to and what was more, wanted such language thrown at her.
She got off on rape fantasies.
It was one of the many things that made Wanda, Pietro and the others worried about her.
Wanda angled herself hard at Clarke and pounded her again and again, making Clarke moan.
Wanda groaned as she felt her climax beginning to build, and stared at Clarke with adoration.
She watched as Clarke's head thrashed back and forth, her blue eyes closed in ecstasy.
"Oh, Clarke," Wanda moaned, unable to help but give up the act and pushed forward closely, her face snuggling against Clarke's neck, inhaling the younger woman's scent as she continued to rail the young blonde, groaning against her submissive lover.
In the driver's seat, Pietro was having difficulty not feeling uncomfortable, since his pants were getting too tight.
He could feel the tent of his pants becoming unbearably snug against his rock-hard erection.
As soon as they got to Wanda's house? He wasn't even going to wait till they got to the bedroom, he was fucking Clarke in the hall, up against a wall, from behind, as soon as they got in through the front door.
Thankfully it wouldn't be long till they reached Wanda's house.
Pietro had an apartment not far from his sister's house, Wanda's place was closer.
Wanda railed Clarke for a whole hour, making Clarke scream and cum over six times.
Finally, when they reached the house, Pietro parked and all but growled, as he switched off the music, "Everyone out, I want her cunt now."
Clarke moaned at Pietro's lewd exclamation and Wanda chuckled against Clarke's throat, finally releasing her and pulling out of Clarke's cunt.
Wanda pulled her skirt down, covering the strap and Clarke weakly pulled herself off of the backseat, opening up the door, pulling her pants up and zipping them up and stumbling out of the car.
Wanda got out and Pietro closed up the car and locked it. After he did, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom, tearing open the wrapping, glancing at Clarke eagerly. "Same safe word as in the car?" He asked.
"Yeah," Clarke said, nodding, smiling at the condom, "Crater."
"Okay," Pietro said, smirking, and Wanda pulled out her house keys. She got to the door, unlocked it and opened it, allowing Clarke and Pietro to get in first.
As soon as they were inside, Wanda had to close the door and lock it, because Pietro had unzipped his pants, put the condom on and discarded the plastic, grabbed Clarke, pulled her pants down and pinned her against the wall, her chest against the wall and spreading her thighs, he pushed himself up into her cunt from behind, thrusting the entirety of his long, hard cock into her.
Clarke cried out, pressing against the wall as Pietro pounded her, gasping against the wall. Pietro reached down between her and the wall, between Clarke's legs and started stroking Clarke's clit with his thumb as he thrust up into her.
"Take it, bitch," he growled, his pants barely down as he rammed up into Clarke's heat.
Clarke cried out with each fondle of his fingers and each thrust into her cunt that was sore already from how much Wanda had fucked her in the car.
Wanda watched the scene with carnal interest. Her eyes followed Clarke's every move as the blond writhed against the wall, pounded by Wanda's silver-haired brother.
While the two of them had Clarke all to themselves, they were going to enjoy themselves greatly.
Wanda licked her lips, the other end of the toy still inside her and she thought about all the ways she and Pietro were both going to penetrate her after they finally got to the bedroom.
Back at the office, where the CEOs who were the rest of Clarke's lovers worked, Laura, Natasha and Clint went to where Jessica Jones was, showed her the picture with the license plate and Jessica nodded, opened up her laptop, looked up the number to track down license plates, called that number and concocted a bullshit story why she wanted the identity of the person who owned the car that that license plate number went with.
Jessica wrote down the information after she got it, her expression becoming hard, stony and harsh, and Laura and Natasha both already suspected what the results were, even before Jessica thanked the person and hung up the phone, turning to them.
After Jessica was finished and hung up, she looked at all three Laura, Natasha and Clint and she said, eyes hard, "We've got her. You were right, Laura. It's her. It's Abby Griffin. She bought the car and while her name might be Abby Kane now? When she purchased the car, she hadn't yet married her husband, Markus Kane. So, at the time, she was still named Abby Griffin."
Laura growled, teeth clenched. That still wasn't enough to know for sure. But it sure as hell was getting close, wasn't it?
And if they found more and it turned out to be Abby Griffin, Clarke's biological mother, then what?
A tempting as it was, they couldn't kill her. They were powerful, but not powerful enough to get away, literally with murder.
But they would do everything in their power to make her life a living hell.
And they would have to get that kid, Tyler away from her and Markus.
"If it is her?" Clint asked, voice angered, "What do we do?"
"Take your pick," Natasha snorted, "We could sue her, we could bring a case against her for child abuse. We wouldn't even have to bring Clarke into it," she looked at Laura, "You're sure that Tyler is in danger with Abby?"
Laura nodded.
Natasha said, "Then we can try to take Tyler from her. We could frame her."
Laura's eyes widened. She hadn't thought of that.
She looked at Natasha, stunned and Natasha smirked.
They had committed a few crimes in the past. Not just during their previous lives before they became CEOs. But as CEOs. Funny how that tended to be common for very rich people.
Jessica hadn't always stuck to the law while being a private eye. Tony had played with a lot of illegal weapons in order to make the tech that got him the money to where he was now. Pepper was the same. Steve used to be a thief in his youth. There were countless things the others had done.
And Natasha and Clint, shockingly enough? Had both been mercenaries.
Clint and his brother, Charles Barney Barton, had been mercenaries together, but Clint had left that life and had ended up on Laura's doorstep.
It was similar for Natasha. She and her adoptive younger sister, Yelena Belova, had lived that way for a long time, before Natasha turned on her and Yelena's "handlers" and freed herself, Yelena and the other kids that were being used as mercenaries.
Natasha had ended up running into Clint and Clint had brought her to his and Laura's home and they had taken her in.
They had built themselves up along with the others, to the status that they had now.
They wouldn't have to worry about word getting back about Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff's former lives as mercenaries. Because the information about that had always been terminated afterwards, so that evidence could not be used against those who ordered Clint around or against Natasha's handlers.
All that mattered to Clint now, was that he had a family and was free and he wanted his family as far from that life as possible.
All that mattered to Natasha now, was that she and Yelena were free, and that she had a family with Laura and Clint and that her old life wouldn't ever touch Yelena and that same old life would never touch Laura, Clint and their children.
But that didn't mean that either Clint or Natasha had forgotten how to use laws against people, even by illegal means.
Laura dared as the question, "Is there a way of killing her, without it being brought to us, or to Clarke?"
Natasha chuckled, sounding impressed, Jessica scoffed and Clint swiveled his head to stare at his wife, stunned.
"Just asking," Laura said.
"Tempting," Jessica confessed, "But that would be complicated. Clarke works here and clearly Abby doesn't live far from here. There's no way a jury or a judge would look at it as a coincidence."
A thought struck Laura then as she said, looking to Jessica, then to Clint and Natasha, "What if it isn't? What if it's not a coincidence?"
Hearing this, all three Jessica, Natasha and Clint looked at her with attention, but this time, out of curiosity more than anything else.
Laura supplied, "What if Abby found out where Clarke worked, and I don't know…is following her, maybe because she's hoping there will be money to get out of her?"
Jessica's eyebrows raised up at that and Natasha nodded, contemplating this, realizing that it made sense.
Clint glowered at that possibility. "I could picture her doing it," he said, nodding.
He added, "Abby can't think that Clarke will forgive her and give her money, can she?"
Jessica shook her head as she grumbled, "People like that? They'll always try to smooth things over when they have something to gain. And if you're right, Laura? Abby has a reason to think she has something to gain."
Laura nodded, disgusted at the thought of Abby trying to beg Clarke for money, trying to guilt the girl that she abandoned all those years ago, most likely ready to sling remarks like, "I'm your blood," and disgustingly manipulative things like that.
And Abby would have reason to do that too. Clarke had gained a fortune during her time working here. Clarke often joked that she had earned her money by being the office whore.
A comment that always got troubled reactions from her lovers.
But all the sex aside? Clarke was a very competent worker, was dedicated in the work at this company. And outside of the designated places where she and her employers had sex, she made sure never to flirt or give any indication of what her exact relationship with her employers was in front of anyone.
In other words, Clarke was extremely professional.
She took her work very seriously. And refused more money when her employers tried to offer her more.
She had outright said that she would be paid the same as everyone. And that she wasn't going to be paid more just because she got their rocks off.
And to be frank, this sort of relieved several of her lovers, even if it disappointed some others.
Tony, Pepper, Bruce and some others wanted to spend money on her, and so did the rest of the employers. But a lot of them were somewhat relieved.
Because Clarke's reaction meant, even if she talked about being her lovers' little whore, and fetishized it, she clearly didn't want to be paid as if she was their whore.
To be perfectly honest, Laura and the others all knew that that was derogatory to think about the sex work business.
Sex work was a perfectly legitimate form of work. The oldest profession, as it was called.
Sex work was perfectly legitimate, and sex workers were simply doing their job. Stigma was the only thing that made people question its legitimacy.
And what caused such stigma? Why, misogyny, of course.
If sex work was the oldest profession, hatred and fear of women was one of the oldest forms of bigotry out there.
So, that wasn't to say that Laura and the others didn't respect sex work. They did.
And they knew that Clarke did too.
However, when Clarke called herself that? They knew it was different. It was meant to be derogatory for herself. No one else. Just her.
She talked about herself like she was trash. And it greatly disturbed her lovers.
However, Clarke always was professional in the work environment.
And she had cropped up a lot of money over the years, working for them.
If there was ever a time for Abby to try to track her biological daughter down, in hopes of mooching money off of the younger woman? It was now.
"If she's here to take money from Clarke," Natasha growled, "I'll kill her, myself."
Laura shivered. Natasha hadn't said threats like that for a long time.
Natasha was absolutely capable of following through on her threats. She had killed people in the past. As had Clint.
It went to show just the anger that Abby had awakened in Clint and Natasha, that they were making threats like that again.
There was a knock against the glass door of the office, causing them to whirl around.
It was Bruce. Laura walked over and let him in.
Bruce came in and said, "Um, it's Pepper? She found a good licensed therapist."
All of them were now at full attention. "Who?" Laura asked.
Bruce said, "The therapist's name is Luna."
Back at Wanda's home, Clarke could barely move on the bed. She was naked, sweaty and panting, cum slicking her inner thighs and staining the mattress underneath.
Surrounding her, lying next to her, staring at her lovingly, naked and sweaty themselves, were the Maximoff twins.
Wanda pressed against Clarke's right side, her head resting on Clarke's right shoulder, smiling at the blond longingly and Pietro cuddling close to Clarke's left side, snuggling his face against her left shoulder, smiling in the same way at his and Wanda's lover.
The trash bin next to the bed was filled with multiple used condoms. Clarke had put on a few, to be sure.
Pietro's cock was finally flaccid, laying on the bed between his legs.
Wanda's thighs like Clarke's, were soaked with cum.
The strap-on had been unbuckled and now lay on the floor next to the bed, both ends soaked in cum, the bigger end of the strap, dripping with Clarke's cum.
Because both Maximoff siblings were insatiable, even after they were completely sexually satisfied, they still couldn't keep their hands off of Clarke.
Their hands reached up and each of them groped one of Clarke's breasts. Clarke gasped, closing her eyes as Wanda squeezed and kneaded Clarke's right breast and Pietro did the same to Clarke's left breast.
Clarke whimpered at the ministrations, groaning, "You know I'm exhausted, you bastards."
Wanda and Pietro both chuckled. They knew if Clarke wanted them to stop, she'd have said her safe word by now. She wasn't doing that.
Pietro kept groping Clarke's left breast and Wanda removed her hand and placed her mouth on Clarke's nipple, sucking hungrily.
Clarke gasped, arching her back, even if she was sore and exhausted.
The past several hours had been spent with Wanda pounding Clarke into the bed, thrusting into Clarke with her strap-on, pinning Clarke down to the bed and thrusting in and out of Clarke mercilessly.
Then Clarke had been fucked in the ass by Pietro and Clarke had been fucked in the cunt with the strap by Wanda.
Pietro had commented lewdly that she was lucky that Clint wasn't in the room with her, otherwise her ass would be pounded every second. Clint's cock would have been in her ass as soon as they got through the door, which Clarke knew was the truth.
When Clarke finally was spent, Wanda had pulled the strap off and dropped it to the floor.
But that didn't appear to be stopping either twin.
Wanda's hand then slid along Clarke's right inner thigh, traveling up to between Clarke's legs.
And Clarke said no safe word as Wanda's fingers penetrated her.
No, all she did was gasp in pleasure as her pussy was thrust into yet again and her clit was stroked yet again, all done by Wanda's cruel fingers, which were joined a second later, by Pietro's fingers, and Clarke arched her back again as she moaned, the fingers of both Maximoff twins penetrating her, both their thumbs stroking her clit.