Warnings for rape in this chapter. Gangrape, specifically. Femslash only fic. Multiple parts

Safe-Haven

Chapter two

Time moved very fast when you were having fun. Even more so when you were actually truly happy.

Clarke was startled by how fast time had gone by since obtaining the cottage.

Two weeks. That was how much time it had almost been. The next two days would make it two weeks.

Clarke had sent a text off to Wells and Callie, telling them that she was safe and that she had just had enough and had left Abby's apartment. And she had asked them not to look for her.

She and Wells and Callie had texted since then, the both of them just checking in on her. And Clarke knew the extent of her paranoia, since she had asked Wells and Callie to video chat with her, to make sure that the texts weren't being sent to her by Abby, Kane Bellamy, Octavia, Jasper, Miller, Murphy, Atom, Dax and Raven.

Wells and Callie hadn't judged and had done as Clarke had asked, showing her that it was indeed them messaging her.

She had gone out of the cottage, locking it up and walking through the garden, making sure she stayed away from where visitors usually walked, so that no one figured out where she was living.

She still had quite a lot of food left before she'd need to go out and get anything. She did, however, get a mini fridge and it was ready for being used to store food in.

She had known beforehand that she probably couldn't afford to let anyone inside the cottage to fix something if anything broke down. She'd have to fix everything herself.

That was why a week before she had moved to the cottage, she had purchased a whole toolbox, a toilet brush and a couple of plungers.

She had learned on the second time she had visited the cottage, before deciding that that was where she would stay, something that had relieved her. The cottage had smoke and fire alarms. She had no idea originally if they worked or not, but she had tested them. She had gotten some matches, pulled out a chair, stood on it and snapped the match against the matchbook box and had held the lit match right under the alarm.

Sure enough, an ear-piercing shriek had been set off and made Clarke cry out, quickly blowing the match out and reaching up and pressing the button on the side, turning off the horrid racket.

She had found where the garbage bin was, had tossed the match out, then had checked the other fire and smoke alarms.

They all worked.

She had turned them all off quickly and had gotten rid of the matches she had used to activate them and had put the matchbook away.

She knew that if a fire somehow broke out, she'd hear it.

She had, however, before moving in, bought a few fire extinguishers, just to be safe.

During her trips back and forth here, before moving fully into the cottage, she had brought in some pots and pans, putting them away throughout the kitchenette.

She barely knew how to cook. The most she knew how to do was boil food, microwave and sear stuff. That was about it.

She would have to know how to heat stuff up, since she liked hot chocolate too much not to.

But that would require some cooking ware, even if she wasn't remotely good at anything that involved culinary activities.

She had, however, been putting off anything involving the stove or oven for all of her time since she had been here.

She had just kept to the cans and the boxes and other packages of food.

The cans that had been emptied of the food in them, she had rinsed out the cans and had shoved them in a bag, brought them to the edge of the property and had gone to a few nearby houses and had tossed the bag of cans into a recycling bin near some random house. She did the same with any garbage she had.

She stayed near the garden, would sit and watch things on the TV or stream, would listen to the music from the iPod that she had brought along, would read books, work on her art, and walk through the forest looking around.

So far, there were some really strange objects she'd find in the woods. Discarded pieces of trash that she wouldn't have thought people would throw out.

She supposed that that wasn't too weird in forests that were near cities.

The most interesting thing she'd find sometimes in the gardens, were abandoned patches of vegetation where people had attempted to grow something, or where something had grown, but no longer grew.

Two flowerbeds over from the cottage, Clarke had found a long wooden square with soil in it, and nothing growing out of it, however, she had found several tall, thin wooden tomato stakes.

Meaning that at some point, someone had tried to grow a vegetable garden here. Maybe they had even succeeded. But there were no vegetables here now. Just flowers, weeds, fruit trees and moss.

On one hand, Clarke figured that it would have been convenient to have a vegetable garden. She wasn't the biggest fan of vegetables. Who actually was? But it probably would have been convenient to have access to vegetables.

She probably could easily have gone out into the garden and snatched some tomatoes, melons, peppers and stuff.

But there was no vegetable garden here. Assuming there ever had been and any attempts that had been made to grow vegetables hadn't been for naught.

And on the other hand? Having a vegetable garden would have meant that someone would be maintaining it. And if someone maintained it? Then that would risk her being seen by someone and word getting out about the cottage that had become her safe-haven.

The city where she was, was near a forested area. And because of that, it was easy to get lost in the forested spaces. She didn't mind. As she had learned, in supposedly safe place where she had been supposed to be looked after by her adoptive mother, she had found an entirely different danger. And she felt no fear of the forest around her.

Wells and Callie kept asking for her to come live with them. But Clarke just couldn't risk it. She couldn't risk their safety. Or her sense of safety.

Something she had learned very well over the years, was that even if Abby, Kane, Raven, Jasper, Miller, Murphy, Dax, Atom and Octavia, never raised a hand to her, they almost made sure she knew how worthless she was.

The saying, "sticks and bones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me," was completely ignorant. Words mattered. Words hurt peoples' hearts.

And Bellamy? Oh, he did worse than just tell her how worthless she was. But he did plenty of that too.

But he would hit her. He would push her, would grab her wrist hard and threaten to break it.

He would tell her he could cut her hand off if he wanted.

He made it very clear to her how little he cared about her existence, unless he got something out of it.

But no one besides herself, Wells and Callie had cared.

Clarke could not deal with being in that type of situation again.

It was odd. She sometimes felt like she was being watched, like she would feel holes being burned into her back.

She would look all around her, all around the garden and the forests. But she wouldn't see anyone. Or anything. At the most, she would come across some squirrels, deer or rabbits.

But nothing besides that. And she certainly didn't see any humans watching her.

She figured at some point that it was just her being paranoid. Even if she had never really felt truly safe since she had been twelve, she supposed it was just her paranoia. Besides, she was away from the danger.

For the most part? Living like this suited her. Because she had brought along so much and liked going out for long walks in the forests and gardens, she never really got bored.

And it honestly felt good. That independence. She felt like now, she could do what she wanted and no one would call her "stupid," "worthless," "selfish," and "ungrateful."

She could do what she wanted and wouldn't be treated like a second-class citizen for it. Or just for existing.

But she did get lonely. Sometimes the loneliness got unbearable and her activities, like hiking, reading, drawing, painting, watching TV, just wasn't enough. However, she knew better than to go near places with a lot of people. She knew how people treated her the first chance they got. As soon as they learned what her life was like and that she had been in need of help, they'd make her feel like shit.

She was very experienced in that. That was why she was staying, even if Wells and Callie kept trying to get her to live with them.

It would be another two years before she was coaxed out of isolation.

Eventually, during those two years, she finally told Wells and Callie a rough idea of where she was. She never told them her exact location. Just that she was hiding in a certain part of the woods. Near the gardens.

Wells and Callie would come visit her in a location far from the cottage, where neither of them would see the cottage, but close enough that it wasn't out of their way, during that time.

They still tried to get her to live with them. But she refused.

Those two years passed. And Clarke was twenty, and eventually, she ran into something she never thought she'd run into again.

The German shepherd that she had seen before, two years ago. It was here. She stared, startled at the animal, but told herself that it couldn't be the same German shepherd. Then again, she didn't know how old that German shepherd had been that she had seen two years ago. And what other German shepherd did she know that hung out in gardens?

She cautiously went over to the German shepherd, going away from the patch of petunias growing.

"Hey," she said, stepping closer to the possibly stray canine that stood there by some peonies and staring, not doing anything other than that, "Here boy. Or girl." She lowered her hand, making sure the German shepherd could smell her hand. The dog leaned its head in and sniffed her hand, then looked at her, looking almost sad.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" She asked gently, in that baby voice that all people used when they saw dogs.

Now, Clarke could admit that perhaps she had been isolated too long, and maybe she was hallucinating, but she swore to what she saw next. Which was the German shepherd suddenly standing up on hind legs, front paws turning into hands, and back legs turning into feet, and the canine head flattening back into a human face.

Clarke yelped, stumbling back, eyes wide.

What the fuck?

The figure in front of her, a man, had long blonde hair, a short beard, a smirk on his face and a broad build and bright blue eyes, said in a low, booming, British voice, "Not what you expected, I imagine."

Clarke stared at the figure. "What…," she mumbled, "What are…?"

"Thor Odinson," the blonde man said, "Pleasure to meet you, in human form. Anyway."

"Hu-human form," Clarke said, "What…you've been the German shepherd this entire time?"

"That would be me, yes," Thor said, "I wanted to bring you to that cottage, give you a safe place to go. How are you liking your new home?"

"I…," Clarke mumbled, brain having a hard time catching up with her body. What the hell?

She finally said the only word that she could, "What?"

"Thor," a voice laughed behind Clarke, making her almost gasp, making her turn around, looking at who had snuck up behind her. Her blue eyes widened when she saw the woman who stood in front of her. Tall. A very tall woman. Pale. Long, black hair, ice blue eyes and a predatory smile on her face. The woman said, "Brother, are you disturbing Clarke?"

Clarke stared at this woman. Who-?

"Who are you?" She asked, not thinking about the bluntness of the question. Because you know what? She had just seen a German shepherd turn into a person, okay?

"Clarke," The woman said, smiling and leaning in closer, "It is a pleasure to finally meet you face to face. My name is Hela Odinsdotter. And you, Clarke Griffin, are coming with us." With that, she shot her right hand out, grabbing Clarke's left shoulder and Clarke tensed, ready to protest, when she felt something prickling all over her body, and she gasped, as she felt everything around her shift.

A swirl of power went around her and the woman, Hela and the man, Thor, and they were suddenly not in the world that Clarke knew anymore.

When Clarke landed, stumbling back, almost backing up into Thor, she glanced at her surroundings. This…this definitely did not look like the gardens where she had been hiding for the last two years.

There were sharp edged cliffs all over, stretching out and looming, threatening. The sky overhead, was dark red, with lightning streaks across them.

Clarke shook, and shuddered. "Where are we?" She asked weakly.

"Your new home," Hela said, "Well, for a time. That is, when you're ready. But we'll make you ready."

Clarke looked at Hela nervously. What did that last part mean?

Hela also said, "This is the demon world. It's where we've been waiting for you, sweet girl."

"With all due respect, sister," Thor said placatingly, "Please allow me."

Thor walked over and faced Clarke, smiling, "Listen, it's a bit complicated. But to put it simply, we're demons. All demons, like humans, have soulmates. All demons do. And demons cannot be bonded to humans. Ever. Which brings me to the next part. You were adopted, weren't you, Clarke?"

Clarke's mind was swimming, but she said, "Um, yeah?"

Thor smiled again as he said, "You are not human. I'm sorry, Clarke. You are a demon. And you are the mates of the queens of this part of our world. Including queen Hela," he waved his hand to Hela.

Clarke looked from Thor, to Hela.

Soulmates? What…?

Hela chuckled, snickering, "I see you already don't know what to say. I'm flattered. I'll take you to your other mates."

Clarke tried to back away, but Hela grabbed Clarke's left arm, and the world shifted again, this time, they weren't in the landscape anymore. They were in a big, wide room of some sort, decorated dark blue, dark red and dark purple. The room was wide and square-shaped. There was a platform high up, with several thrones across it.

Hela nodded to the other women on the thrones. She said, smirking, "These are your other mates. Your romantic partner soulmates. They and I are meant to be your wives. You have familial soulmates as well. That's where Thor comes in."

Clarke felt Thor's smile more than anything and even without looking at him, she was sure that it was a real smile this time, not a smirk.

"Hello, baby sister," Thor said softly.

Clarke felt confused and worried now. Had the isolation in the woods and the cottage finally gotten to her? Was she hallucinating?

Hela must have read her face because she snorted, "No, Clarke, you're not just hallucinating. This is very real. How else can you explain finding that cottage in the woods?"

"Oh?" A humored voice shot out from where the thrones were, "Is she telling herself that she's going crazy, Hela?"

Clarke heard another voice, scolding the speaker of the first voice, "Yelena," the softer voice said.

"Mama," this 'Yelena' said in mock emphasis that Clarke recognized as being that of not a teenager disobeying their parent, but pretending to be a teenager mocking their parent.

"Hela," Clarke heard another woman speak, and Clarke, feeling her heart pounding, saw a figure walk down the platform, the figure of a beautiful, redheaded woman, "Give Clarke some space. This is all going to be a lot for her to accept."

Hela scoffed, smirking and backing away from Clarke, as the redheaded woman approached.

Clarke looked to the approaching woman, many questions on her tongue.

The woman was wearing dark clothing, her hips swaying back and forth seductively.

As the woman came closer, Clarke saw her eyes. They were bright green. A deep, emerald green.

The redheaded, emerald eyed woman smirked at Clarke as she came to a stop. "Hello, Clarke," she said, "My name is Natasha Romanoff. And we've been waiting a long time for you."

Clarke tried to tell herself that this was a hallucination. That she finally had lost her mind during her time in isolation in the woods.

She had to be insane. She just had to be.

But deep down, she knew she wasn't seeing things. She knew this was all real. She had known that as soon as she had seen the German shepherd change into the human form of "Thor." And that realization terrified her.

Seeing Clarke's fear, Natasha smiled sadly, "It's alright, Clarke. You're safe. I promise you, you're safe."

Clarke shook. "You…you're demons," she said, "Why…why should I trust anything you say?"

"It's the truth," Natasha said, crooning practically, and when she smirked this time, Clarke's heart fell when she saw the redhead's fangs emerging out from under Natasha's lips, "You're ours. We're yours. And we are demons, yes. But you're one too." Natasha lifted her head and ordered, eyes going to behind Clarke, "Leave us, Thor."

"Alright, Natasha," Thor chuckled, sounding more friendly with Natasha than he had with Hela, as he left the room.

When Clarke heard a door clang closed, she knew that she and these women were alone, which she definitely didn't want to be. However, Hela and Natasha moved quickly.

They flicked their hands and the ground rumbled under Clarke and she gasped when she heard something tearing out of the stone ground. She looked down, startled, eyes huge when she saw ropes shooting out of the stone floor.

The ropes wrapped around each of her legs and around her, more ropes shot out, wrapping around each of her arms, restraining her effectively. When she felt these ropes all over her, she realized they were made of very soft material. They looked like regular ropes, but they were designed with some sort of very soft fabric. Like velvet or satin.

Clarke cried out, struggling against the possibly satin ropes, and yet, there was something terrible that went through her. Like she wanted this. Like there was some part of her that had always wanted this, even if she hadn't fully realized it at the time.

Behind Natasha and Hela, several of the other women raised themselves up from the thrones they had been seated on before and began walking over. Even in her struggling and even from here, Clarke could feel their hunger. She sure could feel Natasha and Hela's hunger too.

She heard one woman say, "Look at her. She's so beautiful."

Normally, Clarke would have laughed. Beautiful? She saw herself as cute at the most. But beautiful? That was ridiculous. Even if she was beautiful, she at the very most, was a very unremarkable type of beautiful. Nothing like the gorgeous women closest to Clarke.

Clarke watched, shaking as the other women came over, and they all loomed over her like animals about to devour their wounded prey. Clarke's heart pounded in her chest as she watched them, blue eyes wide.

Natasha reached out, left hand cupping the right side of Clarke's face, fingers gently stroking Clarke's white-blonde hair as she said, a soft smile on her face, "We know you're afraid. We know you've been in pain this whole time. Why do you think we led you to that cottage? Why do you think no one but you found that cottage or has found it since? It's because we kept it from anyone else finding it. We use our magic for it. That cottage would have been found ages ago, but we kept it for you. When we discovered where you were, almost two years before you left your adoptive mother's home. It's why we sent Thor out in his German Shepherd form, to lead you to that cottage. We did that for you. We only want your pleasure, health, safety, comfort and happiness. And we'll give that to you. I swear, we'll give you everything. But we need you to let us take care of you."

Clarke didn't understand any of this. But she felt herself ask the question anyway, "How?"

Natasha chuckled, her smile still soft, "Listen to me. You need a support system. You need to stop being isolated. We gave you that cottage and time to yourself so you could recover from what was done to you before that. But now? Now you need to make connections, my love. Friends. People you choose as your own family. You have familial soulmates, but you need to choose people as your family as well." She stroked her hand more against Clarke's face and whispered, "And we need you to promise us that you'll do that."

"I…..," Clarke began, not understanding, "I thought you wanted me to stay here."

"We do," Another woman said, the woman stepping over and Clarke recognized this raven-haired woman's voice to be the voice of the woman who had scolded 'Yelena.' Clarke's eyes jumped to this woman who appeared next to Natasha, seeing the tied back dark hair and hazel eyes, Clarke watched in confusion as the women kept speaking, her voice having an accent of some type. Clarke didn't want to make assumptions but her brain couldn't help but jump to the conclusion that it was a Russian accent. The dark-haired woman with the ponytail said, smiling down at Clarke, "We do want you to stay here with us. But you can't be dependent only on us. You need other ties besides us. You have familial soulmates here. And we'll introduce you to them. But you need to form bonds outside of this world, which you're not doing."

"But that's okay," Clarke heard the voice of that woman who had spoken before and saw a blonde young woman stand next to the dark-haired woman with the ponytail, and the blonde had the same accent as the woman with the ponytail. The blonde woman turned to Clarke and Clarke saw the blonde woman's hazel eyes spark with almost cruel amusement, "We'll make you move on."

"Yelena," the woman with the ponytail scolded again.

Natasha chuckled, "Well, we need to help you move on. And we'll do that for you. You've been keeping yourself isolated in the gardens and near the forest for far too long. You have contact with Wells and Callie, but that's it. And you barely have contact with them. And that's not healthy for you, my love. That's why we're going to have to…force you to be with Wells and Callie more, and to try to expand who you have contact with."

"Let's cut the chitchat," Yelena said, smiling at Clarke hungrily, "Remember, Clarke, we have magic. I think we should give you another demonstration."

She didn't even move or raise a hand, and suddenly Clarke's clothes disappeared off of her body.

Her shoes, her socks, her pants, her shirt, jacket, bra and underwear were gone in only a second.

Clarke cried out, eyes wide. With these women, these demons looking at her hungrily like this, her being restrained with ropes and being told that they were her soulmates and her clothes disappearing like this?

She knew where this was going.

And even if she felt her arousal stirring between her legs, even if she felt drawn to these women, feeling like she knew them from somewhere before, even if some part of her realized she wanted to know them, she struggled against the ropes, cold fear running through her body.

The ropes, however, soft as they were, held fast.

"Clarke," Natasha said gently, "You can't squirm out of the ropes. And they won't break. You don't need to struggle Clarke. You'll enjoy this."

Clarke whimpered. If she had any previous doubt of these women's intentions? She didn't have any doubt now.

She gasped, and her hips bucked before she could help it, when she felt ropes wrap over the front of her middle, pressing against her cunt. She felt ashamed, losing control as soon as she felt her clit being brushed.

She gasped again when she felt the ropes wrap around her breasts, holding each breast securely and squeezing them.

She was unable to keep back a moan that was beginning to flow from her throat at the feeling of the ropes on her sensitive areas.

The ropes slid around her waist, around her breasts. And around her arms, tying them behind her back.

Her legs were bound, as well, tied back, far apart, and she was being forced down onto her knees.

She only realized that the demons had summoned something soft for her to rest her knees on, when she felt extremely soft material under her knees and legs.

Clarke could feel the panic build, but knew she couldn't do anything, and her arousal was making it difficult for her to focus on her fear.

Her arms were tied behind her back, her legs tied back and spread, her breasts and ass cheeks were bound, being stimulated. There was a rope around her waist. And a rope pressing against her cunt and clit.

The point was, she wasn't going anywhere.

And she knew she was in deep shit. Seriously deep shit.

If there was any lingering doubt about what these women wanted, which there wasn't, but if there was? It evaporated as Clarke felt those soft ropes around her breasts, a rope between her buttocks and another rope against her slit, rubbing against her clit.

She was positive that this was a position she had seen in some porn magazines before.

She heard movement around her, felt the soft material she was on, dipping down, feeling several shapes kneeling down next to her.

Clarke opened up her eyes to look at who was close to her.

Natasha, and another woman, who Clarke didn't know the name of, who had long, dark hair and green eyes.

Both women were looking at her with adoration and desire. The soft looks most likely had been meant to sooth Clarke, but it didn't do anything except scare her.

She tried to struggle back, but even as she tried, she knew she wouldn't be able to. her arms and legs were bound. The possibly satin ropes that bound her arms and legs were connected to each other. She was not going to be able to get away.

Natasha reached out her right hand and cupped Clarke's chin in her palm. "There's no need to be so scared, malyshka. We would never hurt you."

Before Clarke could have the chance to protest, Natasha leaned in and kissed Clarke deeply, her tongue stroking over Clarke's tongue.

Clarke moaned, shuddering at the thrill at the feeling.

Through the pleasure, she suddenly realized she might be able to fight back. But if she bit Natasha's tongue, what would be done to her in retaliation?

Still, this might be her only chance to fight back.

Still almost overtaken by the pleasure, she knew she had at least had to try and closed her teeth around Natasha's tongue.

She heard a hiss against her mouth, making Clarke tense, but she kept biting, feeling anger inside her, anger at these women for what they were trying to do to her, and tried to pull at Natasha's tongue.

Then something happened that told her that there was no getting out of this, whatsoever.

The tongue, which had felt so solid only seconds ago, suddenly became slick and slipped out from between Clarke's teeth like a snake that slipped between the cracks of the door of an old house.

Clarke gasped, looking at Natasha as Natasha moved her head away, a smirk on her face.

Clarke stared at Natasha's mouth. There was no blood on Natasha's mouth. And Clarke had bitten Natasha's tongue as hard as she could.

Clarke's heart jumped at the look that Natasha gave her. Natasha didn't look angry. She looked amused. Worse. She looked pleased.

And the predatory glint in Natasha's emerald eyed somehow looked sharper, more intense.

Natasha purred, "That's our strong-willed little girl."

Clarke trembled, feeling tears threaten to fall, realizing that she wouldn't escape and that she was going to be raped. She was actually going to be raped.

Natasha's catlike smile softened and she reached out again, her right hand resting on Clarke's left cheek as she said tenderly, "Clarke, it's alright. We'd do anything for you. We won't hurt you."

Clarke shook her head as she felt the other demon women kneeling down around her.

"What do you call rape?" She asked, desperate to reason with them, but she was positive that they couldn't be reasoned with, "Rape is a way of hurting someone."

The dark-haired woman appeared sad now and both her arms reached up, cradling Clarke's face between her hands as she said, "Clarke, listen to us. We would do anything for you. We will do everything for you. You just need to be ours. You're our mate. Had you grown up here? You would feel the connection too. As strongly as we do. But tell me that you felt nothing as soon as you saw us."

Clarke felt a shiver run through her. They knew. Shit, they knew.

They knew that she had felt something for them. Felt a draw to them of some type. Felt like she wanted to know them. Wanted to be with them. Clarke felt so lost, her eyes staring at the ground, feeling terrified, but knowing that she felt something else for all of these women.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the dark-haired woman nod. "We know, sweet one. We know."

Clarke, desperate, tried to pull back, but the dark-haired woman and Natasha, who had reached out and taken Clarke's hips in her hands, held on fast.

She felt hands on her back, in between the spaces where the ropes were.

She heard a loving voice speak, "Natasha, Wanda, she isn't going to listen. Why don't we show her just how much we love her?"

Clarke tried to pull away, but she was in a position where she couldn't and she was bound; there was no getting out of this.

She felt a hand wrap around the rope around her waist and felt herself being pulled back. The same voice that had spoken before, said, "It's alright, Clarke. We'll show you our love. And you'll see. You'll see that you can trust us. And that we'd do anything for you."

Clarke tried to cry out, 'no,' but she heard Natasha sigh out, "No kissing, then. That's alright. We don't necessarily need your mouth for what we're about to do." A new rope suddenly wound around Clarke's face, getting between her teeth, effectively gagging her and binding behind the back of her head.

She struggled, tears spilling out in rivers now.

She heard soothing whispers of, "Shh," "it's okay, little one," "everything's going to be okay," and "you have nothing to be scared of, love," and felt her pale blonde hair being stroked by soft hands.

She then felt hands all over her body.

Hands running through her blonde hair, hands on her buttocks, hands on her breasts, hands on her thighs, hands on her stomach. Wanda and Natasha moved forward and both put their mouths on Clarke's throat, sucking and licking. Natasha's tongue, in no way damaged, stroked along Clarke's neck, right at her pulse point. That, and the many gropes at her body, made Clarke make a muffled moan and buck her hips against her will.

She felt Natasha and the other woman, Wanda, chuckle against her throat at her response to their assault of her.

Clarke felt a mouth by her left ear and she heard a new voice say in a tone so loving and seductive, that as she was being groped continually, she felt herself arching, unable to do anything else, but whimper at the seductive words in her ear. The woman at her ear said, "We know you're enjoying this. If you would just forgive this, we could show you how much we have to offer."

Clarke gave a choked sob when she felt two mouths on her breasts. One mouth on her right nipple, one mouth on her left nipple.

From where she was kneeling by Clarke, her mouth next to Clarke's left ear, Diana smirked at Clarke's reaction to Niylah and Brunnhilde sucking on Clarke's nipples. Diana looked back at where Pepper was, behind Clarke. Pepper had been the one to say that they should move quicker, and it looked like that was what they were doing.

Pepper smirked as Natasha and Wanda held Clarke securely at the front. Melina and Maria held Clarke's legs. Felicia and Niylah were stroking Clarke's pale blonde hair, trying to sooth her. And Pepper grabbed the rope between Clarke's ass cheeks.

And as she did, she lowered herself onto her stomach, inching closer, hungry mouth moving to Clarke's crack, tongue sticking out.

Diana laughed deeply, grinning as Clarke cried out, back arching sharply, eyes closing tightly as Pepper's tongue thrust into the blonde's asshole.

Helena smirked around Clarke's nipple and pulled away, raising her right hand to her mouth and slipped both her right index and middle finger into her mouth, covering it with her saliva, before pulling her fingers out of her mouth. She then reached her other hand down and pulled the rope back from Clarke's cunt and she said, snickering, "It's time to know what real pleasure is like, little girl."

Helena didn't allow Clarke a moment to make a muffled groan, as she thrust her fingers one by one into Clarke's cunt, making Clarke scream now, arching up even more somehow and thrusting her hips up to meet Helena's pounding fingers.

Natasha pulled her mouth away from Clarke's throat, finally, and began stroking her tongue all along Clarke's spine. Wanda, however, continued to lick and suck at Clarke's throat.

Helena went back to sucking on Clarke's right nipple as she fingered Clarke brutally.

Felicia gently reached over and wiped Clarke's tears from Clarke's eyes and cheeks.

The bound and gagged woman between the demons violating her, who still didn't know the names of most of these women, thrashed as the pleasure assaulted her mentally and physically, her mind desperately trying to make sense of all this.

She had never had sex before. She had known that she was bisexual. That she was sexually attracted to both men and women. She had had enough sexual fantasies about both men and women, to know that she was bi.

But she had never gotten involved with any boy or girl before, when she had been living with her adoptive mother and her adoptive mother's boyfriends.

Because why would she bring anyone into that miserable madhouse?

But she had masturbated. A lot. She knew what she liked.

No one except for herself, had touched her like that or had brought her pleasure in that way.

And during the last two years when she had been isolated and stayed away from the outside world, staying in her cottage? She had been the only one to give herself sexual pleasure.

All the orgasms she had previously experienced, had been by her hands, not by anyone else's, while she had been fantasizing about being tied up exactly like this and dominated and used.

And it occurred to her, when she thought about that for just a second, that somehow, these women knew what she had fantasized about.

How many times, when she had been younger, had she looked at magazines where women had been bound like this, and she would imagine being bound that way, being used by a woman or a man, or both, or by multiple women and multiple men?

And imagined hands all over her, mouths all over her, tongues in her ass, fingers and tongues, amongst…other things in her cunt.

These women knew what she had fantasized about. How they knew, she didn't know, but she was guessing the "demon" part of this was the answer.

Whatever logic she was able to come up with, was blocked out as an unbearable flash of pleasure blasted through her as the woman that had her fingers inside Clarke, angled her hand hard and sent Clarke over the edge, making Clarke scream into the rope stuffed into her mouth, her blue eyes squeezed shut again.

She felt her pleasure dripping out as those fingers were pulled out of her pussy. She shook, gasping against the rope in her mouth.

Clarke heard the voice of Wanda, feeling Wanda pull her mouth back from Clarke's throat. "My turn," Wanda growled.

Before Clarke could make any muffled noise of protest? Wanda had swooped down and put her mouth on Clarke's cunt.

Clarke screamed against the rope again as Wanda's tongue licked up along Clarke's clit and she heard the woman who had spoken in her ear before, talk again, "It's alright, Clarke. Remember, none of this is your fault. We just need you. That's all. This is not your fault. We are raping you. And it's not your fault."

Diana leaned her head against Clarke's head and watched Clarke.

She had told Clarke that, that none of this was Clarke's fault, and it wasn't. Clarke had done nothing and this was not her fault, but Diana had said it anyway, because she knew how humans thought. Clarke wasn't human. But she had been raised in the human world.

A good deal of rape victims often believed that it was their faults. Because of the society that they had been raised in, telling them that it was the victim's fault, not the perpetrator's fault.

Yes, Clarke was theirs. Unquestioningly. Which was why they weren't ever going to stop.

But this wasn't Clarke's fault. It never would or could be.

And Diana needed to assure Clarke that it wasn't Clarke's fault, if Clarke ever thought for a second that it might be.

They had summoned a large and soft bed under Clarke, so that she had something soft under her legs and knees. They had wanted her to be comfortable while they took her.

Diana watched as Clarke thrust her cunt up into Wanda's mouth as Wanda's wicked tongue worked its way up along Clarke's clit.

Pepper finally finished tunneling her tongue inside Clarke's asshole, pulling her tongue out, chuckling. Clarke whined as Pepper slipped her tongue out of Clarke's pucker.

There was a small, red flash over Pepper's mouth, over her tongue and then the light disappeared.

Being demons, all of them had the ability to magically alter things. And Pepper magically cleaned her mouth and tongue, making her mouth and tongue completely clean.

Which meant that she could now use that mouth for anything she wanted again.

Aware of this, Pepper leaned in against Clarke's back, mouth going to Clarke's right shoulder and biting it softly.

Diana then watched as Niylah reached between Clarke's legs and as Wanda licked her tongue all along Clarke's clit, Niylah thrust one, then two, then three fingers into Clarke's cunt, thrusting in and out, slowly and torturously.

Diana's smile widened as she watched how high Clarke's hips canted, as the blonde's eyes rolled up into the back of her head, her moans long and choked.

This would be difficult. But eventually, Clarke would see that it was worth it. That she was getting so much from this. It might take some time. But she'd see.

Diana caught Natasha's eye and they shared a smirk as they thought the same thing.

It will just take some time. She'll see.

They needed to make sure that Clarke stopped isolating herself. It wasn't healthy. She needed more people around her. They would let her go back into the human world, for periods of time. With the condition that she make more connections.

It was too soon to expect her to integrate completely in the demon world. They wouldn't ask her to do that this soon.

However, they would make sure that she connected with Wells and Callie again. And connected with other people. She would have people that would be her support system in the human world. And they would provide Clarke with a support system here in the demon world.

As for the people that had hurt Clarke? Abby, Markus Kane, Bellamy Blake, Octavia Blake, Jasper Jordan, Raven Reyes, Nathan Miller and the others?

They would be dealt with.

But not right now. Later.

In the meantime, Diana and Natasha watched the show as Pepper's tongue in Clarke's asshole, was now being replaced by Mari's two fingers, and Clarke howled against the rope gag as she felt her next orgasm tear through her, bucking into Niylah's fingers and Wanda's tongue, body bound and restrained beautifully.

Natasha and Diana both smiled wickedly. Things had just gotten started for Clarke.

Author's note:

So I felt very icky while writing this. Just wanted to do something different. And I have to warn you, what the demons are doing to Clarke, is going to continue in the next chapter.

Also, I originally meant for the German Shepherd to be Steve. But that felt wrong, because of the war Steve fought in. So I changed it to Thor, basically soon after I posted this chapter.