Disclaimer: Do not own Marvel or The 100
Warnings for sexual assault, past and ongoing sexual assault, unhealthy relationships and child abandonment
Twisted
Clarke Griffin often had to wonder if she was just as deranged as her mates, or perhaps even more deranged.
She wondered that right now, as her arms were tied above her head to the headboard, her pale blonde hair fanned out under her head, splayed all over the very soft pillow that was placed under her head for comfort, her body stripped of her clothing, and three of her mates between her legs, all three of them with their mouths on Clarke's cunt.
Frank Castle was dragging his tongue up and down along Clarke's clitoris, chuckling against the engorged nub, relishing how Clarke's thighs trembled at his tongue's actions.
Natasha Romanoff had her tongue pushed all the way into Clarke's cunt, her tongue sliding back and forth and from side to side inside of Clarke's cunt, stroking her tongue all along Clarke's vaginal walls, practically purring at the screams Clarke was making.
And Jessica Jones had her tongue stroking all over Clarke's vulva. She had a smirk on her face as she stroked her tongue around Clarke's vulva, listening to Clarke's broken cries.
Clarke was still crying out, arching as she bucked her hips into Natasha, Frank and Jessica's mouths.
She could sense Tony, Pepper and Carol nearby. The three of them, she knew, were awaiting their turn.
The moment Clarke felt any pain? They'd be able to sense it. And when they sensed it, they would stop.
There would be no pain that would befall her, that they would tolerate. They would stop as soon as they sensed her in pain.
The mate bond would make them freeze up and stop, anyway, forcing them to stop. But she wasn't in pain. And they could sense it. So, they weren't going to stop.
As soon as any blood showed up? They would stop.
But there was no blood.
So, they weren't going to stop.
The other possibility that would make them stop? Would be Clarke passing out, because Clarke's mates wouldn't have sex with her while she was asleep.
They wanted her awake while they had their way with her, because they wanted her to enjoy the pleasure they gave her, even if they gave it to her against her will.
And if Clarke continued to not have any blood or any pain or didn't pass out? Then when Frank, Jessica and Natasha finally were satisfied with the pleasure they had given Clarke, Carol, Pepper and Tony would pounce and use their mouths to torture Clarke till she came over and over again.
And even as Clarke begged, Frank, Jessica and Natasha were not listening.
"Please, please, stop!" Clarke screamed desperately, trying to push her hips, but couldn't stop the two women and the man between her legs, "I can't anymore!"
"Oh, baby girl," Frank purred, pulling his tongue away from Clarke's clit just a moment, "We all know that's not true. You're still coming bucketloads."
He went back to licking Clarke's clit, and as if to prove his point, Clarke felt herself coming hard, clenching around Natasha's tongue and she heard Natasha moan, obviously tasting Clarke's cum flowing out into her mouth.
Jessica and Frank both chuckled, making vibrations go through Clarke, and making her shudder as her newest climax and orgasm hit her.
But they didn't stop. As soon as Clarke's newest climax and orgasm ended, Natasha started lashing her tongue again, Frank started licking Clarke's clit again and Jessica started to lick all around Clarke's vulva again.
Clarke arched, howling as she felt the piercing pleasure tearing her apart.
"Don't-" she tried to cry out, but her gasps of pleasure choked the words out of her.
"N-no-" she barely was able to gasp, but all of her words, she knew, would be ignored.
This wasn't some "play." It wasn't a roleplay sex thing. This was actual rape.
Clarke knew that.
And Clarke's mates knew that.
There was no "safeword," here for Clarke to use. No traffic system to yell "red," for stop.
There was no stopping here. Unless Clarke was in pain, which her mates would feel and would stop immediately, or if there was blood or if Clarke passed out, because her mates wouldn't have sex with her while she was asleep.
This was rape. Sexual assault.
Because nothing outside of her passing out, her bleeding or her being in pain, would get Clarke's mates to stop licking at each other and overstimulating her, against her will or not.
All that mattered to her? Was her pleasure, her happiness, her safety, her comfort and her health.
And the pleasure that she was experiencing right now, to them?
Was far more important that her consent.
She suspected that was why they had bound her arms in the first place. To make sure that she couldn't struggle, after giving them her consent.
Originally tonight, yes, she had given her consent, but she realized now that that hadn't mattered.
They wouldn't stop.
And even if she hadn't given them permission to lick between her legs? She doubted they would have listened to her if she had said no.
In fact, she knew they wouldn't have.
They had done it before, even after they had let her out of the room they'd kept her in to wane her off of her addiction to cocaine.
When she had lived with them, she had learned when they would force themselves on her and when they wouldn't.
When she was in distress, when she needed comfort, when she was in the shower, and when she was clearly aroused? That was when all bets were off.
And she had been aroused clearly, right before giving her three mates permission to tie her up and put their mouths on her.
So, they weren't stopping, even as she desperately begged them to.
Clarke writhed, hips thrusting forward into Jessica, Natasha and Frank's mouths, their chuckles, causing vibrations to go through her, not helping her to resist them.
Their ministrations sent her over again and she screeched, her blue eyes rolling up into the back of her head as her vision turned entirely white and she felt herself clench around Natasha's tongue, and felt herself come hard.
Not for the first time, Clarke felt like she might be just as deranged as her mates, if not more.
Because she knew this was wrong. Her mates knew this was wrong. But she still would never leave her mates.
Because some part of her?
Liked this.
Liked that her mates would have their way with her over and over and over again, without her permission, and that all they cared about, was her pleasure.
She had a deep and terrible pleasure that she got from knowing that they hungered for her so much and wished to drain her of her cum, even as she sobbed for them to stop.
And she knew that they would punish themselves, the moment she told them to.
Should she tell them to throw themselves off of the top of the tallest building? Or cut their own hearts out? Or turn themselves in to the police? Or leave and never come near her again?
They would do it too.
But Clarke would never do that. And she knew it.
They would violate her until she passed out, and she would never punish them for what they did, even if they deserved it.
Because some part of her hungered for this. Maybe because Clarke's mother had abandoned her and she yearned for the most intense sort of love. Maybe because she was just born twisted. She had no idea.
As Clarke began to come down from her next climax and orgasm, she gasped in relief when she felt Natasha's tongue at last pull out of her cunt.
Seeming to sense her relief, Natasha chuckled, "Don't think you're going to escape passing out from pleasure, my love. We're just switching positions. Now it's my turn to lick at that beautiful pearl of yours. Jessica gets to taste this tasty cunt of yours."
Clarke whimpered, her naked, sweat-covered body trembling as she felt Natasha, Frank and Jessica move around somewhat.
Natasha crooned as she wrapped her lips around Clarke's clit and sucked hard, making Clarke scream anew, arching, howling in the ecstasy that was being forced on her, and Jessica moved her mouth to Clarke's cunt and she kissed her vaginal hole, pushing her tongue all the way into Clarke's cunt, tongue instantly beginning to lash inside of Clarke's cunt. And Frank moved his mouth to Clarke's vulva.
Before Frank got his tongue to Clarke's vulva, Tony grumbled from the side of the bed, "You know that we get to taste her next?"
Frank snorted as he, Natasha and Jessica could feel Tony, Carol and Pepper's hunger for their shared mate, writhing beneath Frank, Natasha and Jessica, desperate for more, yet desperate for them to stop as well.
"You'll get to," Frank said, growling, "Just wait your turn," then he pushed his head down, tongue slipping out and stroking along Clarke's vulva, making Clarke's scream louder.
Clarke twisted on the bed, eyes clenched shut as she could feel like she was being pulled apart from the inside.
She was twisted. She knew that. She had to be if she was willing to be with her mates like this, knowing what they would do to her over and over again, knowing what they were doing with her now.
And knowing that she liked it, she knew she had to be twisted. Deranged.
She knew if she ever said this to her mates, they would instantly tell her not to talk about herself like that, that there was nothing wrong with her.
But Clarke knew the truth.
She was twisted. So twisted.
She had to be.
And she knew, that when she felt Natasha stop licking at her clit and heard Natasha say, practically feeling Natasha's green eyes on her, "Just relax, malyshka. Relax and let the pleasure ruin you. You're doing nothing wrong. Just let the pleasure ruin you, and we'll take care of everything," and she went back to licking Clarke's clit ruthlessly, and when Clarke felt Frank and Jessica chuckle against her cunt at Natasha's words, and Clarke felt an unimaginable blast of pleasure tearing her open, hearing her mates admit they knew this wasn't her fault, admitting their fault in this and only wanting her pleasure, and she arched harder than before all of tonight, she knew there was no way back, and she howled in pleasure again.
When this was all over, after Clarke passed out, then later woke up, Clarke would be given water, chocolate and would be soothed into sleep again.
But for now? Clarke's pussy and clit would be licked and sucked lovingly without her consent by Natasha, Frank and Jessica. Then Tony, Pepper and Carol. Then Sam, Bruce and Elektra. And so on.
The point was, Clarke was in for a long, long and pleasurable night, whether she gave permission for it or not.
But the fucked up thing was, she knew she would come every single time and desire it over and over again.