Disclaimer: Do not own Marvel, DC or The 100
This was written fast, since I wanted to write this before the end of the year, probably messy, and I got a lot from reading SoaringHurricane's stories.
Warnings for references to torture, murder, genocide, pedophilia and rape.
World of pleasures
All eight of Clarke Griffin's romantic partner soulmates that were in the bar with her, looked over at her, their faces varying in expression from amused to wanting to yearning to need to hunger.
Clarke shivered.
She had many more romantic partner soulmates. But these eight were the only ones here. She wasn't sure how she'd be able to deal with more than eight of them here, looking at her like that. Her eight romantic partner soulmates, Natasha Romanoff aka Black Widow, Mari McCabe aka Vixen, Tora Olafsdotter aka Ice, Beatriz da Costa aka Fire, Brunnhilde, Carol Danvers aka Captain Marvel, Pepper Potts and Diana Prince aka Wonder Woman, looked at her with heated expressions that told her she was going to get fucked incredibly hard tonight by all eight of her dominants.
Clarke Griffin aka Wanheda; the Commander of Death, the Destroyer, the Great End of the Mountain Men.
That was who she was.
Feared and respected by so many.
Even the most dangerous of the tribes on the ground, the Azgeda-the Ice Nation, feared her to a certain extent, even though they were quite possibly the last tribe that should ever fear her.
Why? Because the Ice Nation had given her a home, fucked up as that home had been over the years.
They had tortured her and beaten her and told her to do the same to many of their prisoners, in hopes of gaining Wanheda's alliance.
Needless to say, they hadn't needed to try all that hard.
Because no one else had given Clarke a home.
The Ark people had fucked up all their chances.
They had floated her beloved adoptive father, Jake Griffin, when she was a child, had tossed her into the skybox to be abused by the guards, and had isolated her in the skybox for years. When she had snapped and her monstrous hunger was let loose and had broken out of the skybox, and had lost control, broken open the skyboxes of other delinquents and had fed on them, killing all of the delinquents and draining them.
Among these delinquents, whose throats she had bitten out, were Monty Green, Jasper Jordan, John, Murphy, Nathan Miller and Octavia Blake, amongst others.
And then the Ark people had cast her out. Even her adoptive mother, Abby Griffin, who had betrayed Jake Griffin and had helped throw Clarke into the skybox, had called Clarke a monster, an abomination and had thrown her out, screaming in disgust at her.
So, the traumatized girl had run off into the forest. Alone and unwanted.
Really, everything about her screamed that she was an abomination. She was not human. She wasn't remotely human.
She had fangs and claws that she could unsheathe and recede.
She possessed inhuman strength, speed, agility, hearing and eyesight, as well as advanced sense of smell.
She could crush vibranium and adamantium melded together in seconds, she was just that strong.
And she drank blood.
So, yeah, in every way, she was an abomination. She imagined that most people from the Ark, men and women alike would be more than happy to be disgusted with her upon finding out what she was. In fact, when that had come out, a good portion of them had indeed been disgusted. And what did one expect? After all, the Ark people were so backwards.
Okay, that was an exaggeration, but still, the Ark people were pretty fucking backwards.
In any case, that was what Clarke had lived with for years. And after hearing from Abby Griffin, the woman who was supposed to be her adoptive mother, had called her an abomination, Clarke had looked at all the things wrong with her over the course of the time she had lived in the forest.
She had lived in the forest for about a year, till she was found by the Mountain Men.
The Mountain Men had seemed nice enough. At first.
But then she had learned what they had been up to all those years, before the Ark had come down and before Clarke had broken out of the skybox.
Apparently, the Mountain Men were abducting people from the different tribes, throwing them into cages and draining their blood.
And they had intended to do the same thing to all of the Ark people.
While Clarke had grown angry at that time at the Ark people, but she hadn't wanted them to all die out, for goodness sake.
So, when someone from the mountain, an older girl named Maya, had wired the switch to the mainframe of the mountain's digital network, that controlled all the doors and vents of the underground base, and Maya, who was captured by the guards, screamed at Clarke to pull the lever, Clarke had done as Maya had said and had pulled the lever.
And when she had done that? She had become Wanheda. She had become the Commander of Death. She had pulled the lever and had wiped out the entirety of the Mountain Men. The air that had become so poisonous to all of the Mountain Men, killed them, wiped them out, every last one of them.
And she was left alone again, traumatized, left alone in the mountain.
And she had walked through the mountain, a walking shell of a person, staring at the dead bodies covered in bloody, opened sores and corpses with agonizing expressions on their faces.
She left the mountain, cold on the inside, alone and traumatized and had lived in the woods alone for two years, isolating herself, knowing she deserved no love after what she had done.
And it hadn't helped that all of the tribespeople, from the Tri to the Luwoda, from the Azgeda to the Ouskejon, from the Ingranrona to the Poda, they all called her a hero for her horrifying, gruesome actions, instead of recognizing her for the monster she was.
But no. The tribespeople idolized her for what she had done. Had praised her name, as a result.
And that was why the Azgeda had abducted Clarke, when they had found her in the forest when she was at the age of thirteen.
Clarke hadn't even fought them. She had decided at that point, if she was going to be tortured to death, it was what she deserved.
At the age of thirteen, she had made this decision; she had decided that clearly, she deserved to be tortured to death. Imagine that.
The Azgeda had hauled her off to a ship, had tossed her onboard, and then had sailed off to where the tribe lived.
The tribes were scattered all over the world.
The Tri, the Ingranrona, the Flou, the Luwoda, the San, every last one of them, were scattered throughout North America.
The Boudalan, the Poda and the Yujleda lived in South America.
The Ouskejon, the Delfi and the Trishana all lived all the way on the other side of the United States, from the Tri, the Ingranrona, the Flou and the Luwoda and the San.
But the Azgeda, considered the pariah of the tribes, no one wanted them anywhere near their land, so they were more than happy for the Azgeda to live far away from the Americas, unless the Commander of all those tribes demanded the Azgeda help, which for some reason they were expected to obey the ungrateful Commander, who always ostracized and alienated them.
That was why the Azgeda were allowed to live far off. They lived up in Canada.
As a result, the Azgeda had flourished. They were considered the biggest nation amongst the tribes and had the most people in their tribes. And hilariously, they apparently were the most liberal of the tribes.
All the tribes allowed same-sex marriage and polyamory. All tribes illegalized pedophilia. All people in all tribes were forbade from touching anyone below the age of eighteen sexually or even trying to court them.
And all tribes had very strict laws about adults involving themselves with someone underage in any way, before that child was of age, was eighteen. It was predatory and was treated as such by all tribes. And all tribes illegalized all types of sexual assaults. There were severe punishments for any types of sexual assaults.
They actually went through with their punishments, and that was more than could be said about the Ark people, who barely took any type of sexual assault seriously.
But the Azgeda? They went much further than just the bare minimum that all tribes were allowed to pass the bar with.
The Azgeda didn't judge anything, except for that. Unlike the Ark people and unlike the Mountain Men. And unlike the Trikru.
Clarke remembered, after seeing things like that, even though the Azgeda had tortured her and had hurt her, that she could imagine these people becoming her people.
And a few years later, the Ice Nation had become her home.
The Azgeda had given her a home. Which so few people had done before.
A very low bar to pass, but the Azgeda had flown by that bar with bright, vibrant, proud colors.
Which sort of went to show how horrifying Clarke's other life experiences had been like.
So, she had been a proud Azgedian for a long time. She still considered herself an Azgedian.
And she was more than happy to pride herself in the things she had done in the Azgeda tribe's name.
And yes, she had skinned people alive, had cut people open, had violated them with knives, had cut them open in other ways.
And yes, she had enjoyed it.
And that was when that little brat, Octavia Blake's older brother, a pedophile and rapist, by the name of Bellamy Blake, came to the Ice Nation, seeking revenge for his sister's death.
And when she had learned what he had done to several women, claiming that he wasn't a pedophile or rapist, because he didn't threaten underage girls into sleeping with him, she had decided to do the worst to him.
And yes, to answer any further questions, the full-grown man, age twenty-five, Bellamy Blake, was indeed, a pedophile and rapist, because he involved himself with teenage girls as young as fifteen, fourteen and even thirteen.
He could have pretended all he wanted, but he had been a rapist-a pedophile.
And Clarke? She was more than happy to give him exactly what he deserved.
She had enjoyed every moment of cutting Bellamy apart, skinning him and feeding all of him to the dogs.
She had loved taking his skin off and cutting his organs off while she had chained him ot a tree, listening to his satisfying screams before he died in agony.
It was a famous story and all of the tribes ate it all up in hero worship.
It was sick.
But it gave Clarke glory.
And the Azgeda had given her a home. That was a hell of a lot more than she had had before.
Could she be blamed for finally being happy to be accepted? After all her years of being told that she would never be wanted or never would belong?
Then the Avengers had arrived in the Ice Nation, when Clarke was twenty.
And that was when Natasha Romanoff had approached Clarke and had reached her arm out in offering and had promised to keep Clarke warm.
And that had been when all of Clarke's resolve, all of her belief that the Ice Nation would be the only ones to accept her, had gone out the window in seconds.
And what else could she do? She climbed down the tree, had taken Natasha's hand and had allowed the Black Widow to lead her back to the quinjet.
And she had let Natasha seat her down into the jet and hadn't even done anything as they had lifted the jet up off the ground of the Ice Nation and had flown off towards North America.
And Clarke's life had changed completely, with having Natasha in her life and having all her familial soulmates and romantic partner soulmates in her life.
So, she was loved. She had a family.
She belonged.
It was so weird still to think about.
She had gone her whole life practically, since the age of five, believing that she was unwanted and would never belong, ever.
And now, here she was, being loved not by one, but multiple people?
She'd be damned if she would ever, ever give that up.
Still, she felt warmth and need travel down her stomach and to her loins as she saw the looks on her mates' faces.
There were loads of noise throughout the nightclub.
Many people from all different tribes and all different civilizations that weren't in the tribes, went through the club, laughing, drinking and cheering.
Everyone knew Clarke and her mates, so, they were all happy to have them here.
As Clarke gulped down her eighth mug of mead, yet one more drink bought for her, Clarke glanced again at her ten mates across from her, swallowing the liquid down hard at her mates' expressions.
Clarke heard from the bartender, who smirked at her with a charming smile on her lips.
"Klark kom Azgeda," the bartender said, moving her raven black hair back from her right broad shoulder, "The ladies from that table bought you another drink," she nodded to the four muscled Trishana women surrounding a small, square-shaped table at the end of the bar.
Clarke looked at where the bartender was gesturing and her eyes widened. Oh.
Clarke swallowed again. Ooh, boy. How did she properly explain, "oh, no, ladies, I'm flattered, but I'm with my mates. Several of them are here. But again, flattered."
But an idea popped into her brain, then.
She couldn't get drunk. She had too fast of a metabolism for that.
And everyone knew it.
And buying her drinks weren't enough to get her into someone's bed, not anymore.
A few years ago, before she had turned twenty had had first met Natasha Romanoff?
Sure. She had fucked men and women all around like it was going out of style. Since her sex life hadn't exactly started until she was fifteen, and had met an Azgeda girl only half a year older than her when the Azgeda had taken her, she hadn't started having sex until an inappropriate age or anything like that, but she had had plenty of experiences during the seven years she was in the Ice Nation.
Between the Azgeda's allowance for teenagers to do as they pleased, so long as teenagers of the same age or who were only a year apart, had sex and stayed away from people older than that sexually, and given Clarke's own years and years of trauma, she was more than happy to sleep with whom she pleased.
If she had to list the number of people she had had had sex with over the course of those years, she wouldn't be able to keep track of them.
However, since meeting Natasha and realizing immediately that she wanted a serious relationship with that amazing woman, she had stopped her flirtations.
She obviously wasn't monogamous, as she had multiple romantic partner soulmates, but outside of them? She had chosen not to have sex with anyone except her romantic partner soulmates.
So, this was sort of awkward.
But she realized that she could get her mates even more possessive and dominant than before.
She saw an opportunity here.
She nodded to them and grinned, sneaking forward along the bar, going over to the table to the women surrounding that table.
She felt the eyes of all eight Natasha, Diana, Carol, Beatriz, Tora, Pepper, Mari and Brunnhilde on her as she moved to the table surrounded by four muscled Trishana women.
Clarke stood by the table, looking at the women as the woman closest to her, brought over a wooden chair next to her.
"Join us, Wanheda," the dirty-blonde-haired Grounder said, smiling playfully at Clarke, dark brown eyes glinting with lust, "Sit with us. We've been wanting to speak with you all night."
The woman was speaking in Trishanasleng, but Clarke was taught multiple languages by the Azgeda, so she would know what all her enemies said.
And they had taught her for years and years.
So, she knew what the woman was saying, as she spoke Trishanasleng as well as many other languages of the tribes.
Clarke grinned and lowered herself down onto the seat, placing the mug down onto the table in front of her. She nodded to the four women as she said in their language, "Thank you. And thank you for all the drinks. I wonder, what reason did you have for giving me all those drinks? What could you possibly want?"
The woman across from the first woman who had spoken, laughed, her grin wide, her dark gray eyes flashing playfully. The gray-eyed woman said, "Oh, Klark, we just wish to admire you. After all, you're famous amongst the Azgeda for more than just your strength, being Wanheda, your skill, power and your ruthlessness. You're known for something else as well."
The implications in the gray-eyed woman's words left little to the imagination, given the huskiness in her tone.
Clarke grinned again and said in a suggestive voice, "You might need to give me more to go on than that. What do you mean?" Her eyebrows jumped up playfully.
The gray-eyed woman laughed joyfully. Her left hand then moved under the table and began to stroke it along Clarke's right inner thigh.
Clarke fought a hiss.
The woman touching her was going too far, and she was about to pull away politely, when she heard several powerful footsteps coming over to them and she knew already that it was too late.
She mentally cursed.
Ah, shit.
Too late.
Vixen was the first to get to her, getting to Clarke's chair, leaning down and reached her right, muscled arm out and wound it around Clarke's waist and picked her right up out of her chair.
Clarke yelped quietly as she was lifted up out of the chair and scooped up, bridal style by the strong Valkyrie, said Valkyrie's brown eyes narrowed.
"Shit," Clarke said as she was held against Brunnhilde possessively.
Brunnhilde glowered at her dangerously.
Pepper and Diana flanked Natasha. Natasha said darkly, smiling dangerously, "Ladies, sorry for the interruption, but I'm afraid Clarke and the eight of us already have a date. And now, if you'll excuse us, we and our romantic partner soulmate and wife, are going to leave, if you don't mind."
There was little room for negotiation in Natasha's tone of voice.
Clarke gulped, realizing that she might have pushed Natasha a little too far.
Dressed in civilian clothes; a tight, black, long-sleeved shirt, tight, dark blue jeans and combat boots, Natasha was no less menacing than she was in her Black Widow outfit.
Clarke glanced back only one time at the table of four Trishana women.
All four of them wisely backed off, looking nervous.
She fought a chuckle. She did not blame them even a little.
Between the seven muscle-bound fighting machines, Brunnhilde, Wonder Woman, Black Widow, herself, Ice, Fire, Vixen and Captain Marvel, the fact that all eight women with Clarke were known superheroes, and Natasha's venomous warning, she doubted anyone wanted to interfere.
So, no one did anything as Mari turned around with Clarke in her arms and began walking, all of Clarke's other romantic partner soulmates following closely behind.
Knowing that Clarke would hear, as Clarke's non-human hearing was superior to any human hearing, Natasha said darkly, "You know you're in for one hell of a fucking tonight, malyshka."
Clarke chuckled again, snuggling into Brunnhilde's chest again. She had been counting on that.
The eight women brought their mate out of the club and off to the Avengers base, knowing there was a big room that Natasha had occupied and had had installed a huge bed in, after Clarke had met her many other romantic partner soulmates.
They brought her into the Avengers base, ignoring the startled looks they were getting from Clarke's familial soulmate-her father, and from Clarke's other romantic partner soulmates; Steve, Tony and the others.
Natasha shared a look with Clint, who was looking at them, slightly worried, slightly amused.
Natasha communicated her reassurance without words, as she and Clint often hadn't needed words to communicate. The look she gave Clint told him, (It's alright, everything is fine, Clint. We're taking care of our girl. You don't need to worry.)
Clint nodded.
If there was only Diana, Tora, Beatriz and Mari there, he might not have trusted what was about to happen.
No offense meant to Wonder Woman, Ice, Fire or Vixen, Clint just didn't know any of them all that well.
But he had come to trust and respect all three Brunnhilde, Pepper and Carol.
And naturally, Natasha? Clint would trust her with the lives of his entire family, so, yes, he'd easily trust her with Clarke.
Granted, he knew that all of the women carrying Clarke off were Clarke's romantic partner soulmates. He knew that.
Still, he couldn't help his paternal protectiveness.
Clarke Griffin, like Natasha Romanoff, was his kid. Not by blood, but by soul.
He couldn't help his protectiveness.
But Natasha, Carol, Pepper and Diana were with her, so Clint couldn't help some of his relief as the women disappeared with Clarke down the hall and heard the door to the big room open up, then close up.
Inside the big bedroom that Brunnhilde, Natasha and the others had brought Clarke into, seeing that the door was closed up and that the lights were now fully on, all eight of Clarke's dominant romantic partner soulmates looked at her dangerously, telling her exactly what was about to take place.
"We all know you were testing us, love," Tora crooned.
"Have no idea what you're talkin' about," Clarke said, grinning, as Pepper pulled off Clarke's black and dark green sneakers and socks and dropping them to the floor.
"Don't lie, love," Natasha said, reaching over to Brunnhilde and undoing Clarke's belt and pulling it out from the loops of Clarke's pants, sliding it out incredibly slowly, till it was out and Natasha dragged the end of the strip of black leather along Clarke's stomach, then slithered it down between Clarke's legs, and Natasha smirked when she knew that the end of the belt brushed against what she wanted it to brush against, when Clarke gasped jerked slightly, telling Natasha that the belt had brushed against Clarke's clit.
Natasha then dropped the belt to the floor.
"Such a slut," Brunnhilde cooed, looking down at the young woman of twenty-three in her arm, "You would let us do anything to you, wouldn't you?"
Clarke groaned, nodding.
Mari reached over and lifted Clarke's shirt up. When Clarke's shirt was over her head and off her arms, Mari dropped it to the floor and Carol and Brunnhilde both worked Clarke's jeans off her body.
As the jeans were worked down Clarke's legs, Beatriz grabbed Clarke's hair and pulled her head back, causing Clarke to whimper at the feeling of her hair being pulled and she lowered her head and put her lips on Clarke's neck, and bit Clarke's throat hard, then licking Clarke's throat, trying to soothe her.
Clarke cried out with each ministration.
She felt herself being carried then by Brunnhilde over to the big, wide, soft bed.
Beatriz pulled her mouth from Clarke's neck as Brunnhilde carried the youngest of their number over to the bed.
Brunnhilde tossed Clarke down, the pale-blonde-haired young woman only wearing her bra and underwear now.
Climbing up onto the bed, one after the other, some of them pouncing onto the mattress and onto Clarke, the eight women around Clarke, looked at her predatorily, hungrily, need in their eyes.
Pepper and Brunnhilde acted first.
They pinned Clarke down, hands above her head. Now, Clarke wasn't human; a being or of some sort of god level or something, and she knew she was strong enough to throw all the women off of her. She knew that.
But she also knew that she sure as hell wasn't even going to try to get away from them.
And what was more, all eight of her lovers knew that she wasn't going to try to get away from them, knew that she didn't want to.
Brunnhilde swooped down and with her free hand, pulled the right cup of Clarke's breast off and Pepper took of the left one.
As soon as both breasts were bare, Pepper and Brunnhilde leaned their heads down and each took a nipple into their mouths. They sucked on a breast hungrily, biting and sucking around the nipple, squeezing her breasts with their free hands.
Clarke writhed as Mari and Carol pulled Clarke's panties off of the pale-blonde-haired young woman and after her panties were off, both Mari and Carol spread Clarke's legs wide open.
And both women undid their own clothing, as did most of the other women.
When Mari and Carol were fully undressed, they each straddled one of Clarke's legs, rubbing along her thighs, grinding their clits against her thighs as they held her legs apart and as they did, Mari thrust three fingers of her right hand into Clarke's pussy, grinning with pleasure at the sight of Clarke bucking into her fingers.
Carol leaned down as she humped Clarke's left leg, mouth wrapping around Clarke's clit.
"Never forget for a second who it is you belong to, Clarke," Natasha warned, shifting over, now naked, leaned forward and laid hard kisses against Clarke's navel, biting every now and then.
Clarke let loose cries and moans as Pepper and Brunnhilde didn't stop fondling and sucking and biting at her breasts and Mari didn't stop thrusting her fingers into the younger woman and Carol didn't stop sucking and licking Clarke's clit.
Two of the strongest women, Carol and Diana lifted up Clarke's rear, each of them cupping one of Clarke's ass cheeks and Carol smirked wickedly, knowing that Clarke liked having her asshole penetrated. She gently slipped two fingers, one after the other, into Clarke's tight asshole, and Clarke cried out, stiffening up for a second, before thrusting into Mari's fingers and Carol's mouth again.
Diana chuckled, squeezing Clarke's ass cheek and lowered her head. As soon as Carol took her mouth from Clarke's clit, Tora replaced her, mouth wrapping around Clarke's clit and sucked at it hard, making Clarke scream now.
When Clarke was brought to her first, intense orgasm, climaxing and bucking wildly, out of control, white stars exploding at the front of Clarke's vision as she stiffened up and screamed, pumping up, before she collapsed against the bed, shaking, cum spilling out down her inner thighs.
Carol and Tora looked at the others and Natasha, Beatriz, Pepper and the others gave the look that Tora and Carol needed.
They read the silent instruction in Natasha's eyes well enough. (Keep going. Don't stop till she can't move.)
So both Tora and Carol kept sucking and licking, getting Clarke worked up again, Tora licking at the top of Clarke's clit and Carol licking at the lower part of Clarke's clit.
Clarke cried out as they licked at her, yelping and pumping her hips.
Mari chuckled, and thrust not three, but four fingers into her lover this time, almost pumping her entire hand inside and out of Clarke now.
Natasha looked at Diana, and Natasha nodded back to the bathroom and Diana nodded. She got up off the bed and headed for the bathroom. Before she could touch Clarke again, she'd need to wash her hands.
She quickly went to the sink of the bathroom and put soap on her hands and washed her hands off, then came back into the bedroom, almost laughing at the sight of what she saw.
Pepper had moved her mouth, so that she was only sucking one of Clarke's nipples.
Beatriz had lowered herself and was sucking at Clarke's other nipple.
Diana chuckled, smirking at the sight of the four women devouring Clarke with their mouths, and Mari pounding Clarke's hole.
Natasha slowly looked over at Diana and smirked and Diana grinned, recognizing the look.
She understood what Natasha wanted them to do to Clarke next.
Strap-ons would be next.
They'd fuck her with fake cocks next.
Clarke shrieked as she came a second time, hips flying off the mattress, back arching.
Natasha got up off the bed then and went to the dresser where she kept most of the toys.
Beatriz looked up from where she was nibbling and sucking at Clarke's stomach.
Brunnhilde looked over and watched Natasha too, as did Beatriz and Diana.
Natasha opened up the dresser, and all three Diana, Brunnhilde and Beatriz grinned predatorily, when they saw what Natasha had pulled from the top drawer. A big, long, thick, dark purple fake cock. Natasha smirked as she placed the harness on and buckled the straps, securing the strap-on to her.
Natasha looked to Diana and gestured for her to go to the dresser too. Natasha then looked to Brunnhilde and Beatriz, who were still watching her with those wide grins and she gave both women the same gesture. Brunnhilde and Beatriz got up off the bed and headed over to the dresser.
Diana walked over to Natasha and the dresser.
They heard Clarke scream again and they looked over at the bed as they watched Tora, Pepper, Mari and Carol release her, only to continue stimulating her a few moments later.
Natasha chuckled as Clarke began to buck into their mouths again, watching also as Tora leaned her head down again, tongue darting out and licking all along Clarke's vulvae.
Between those four mouths on her, endlessly stimulating her, Clarke didn't last long. She threw her head back and howled as all four women's mouths fucked her.
Clarke's screams fired out and bounced around the walls, making Natasha, Beatriz, Diana and Brunnhilde chuckle in amusement.
Natasha called over after Clarke was done thrusting her hips into the four mouths pleasuring her cunt and clit.
What the redhead said was, "Now that she's finished for now, Mari, Tora, hold her legs open."
All four Mari, Pepper, Brunnhilde and Tora looked up and turned to Natasha and the others, and saw what Natasha had on herself.
As soon as they caught of the added protrusion between Natasha's legs, Pepper let loose a deep, lecherous laugh.
Brunnhilde grinned down at Clarke, hunger still in her darkened gold eyes.
"Give me one of those," Brunnhilde growled, stretching her left hand out for Natasha to bring a strap-on over to her.
Natasha chuckled and reached into the drawer, pulling out a big, thick dark red fake cock and carried it over to Brunnhilde.
Brunnhilde, Diana and Beatriz made themselves busy, pulling out fake cocks of their own and strapping it to themselves.
Clarke caught sight of what they were doing and her eyes widened. Oh.
Seeing Clarke's wide-eyed look, Diana said softly, "Do you want to stop, love? Say your safe word if you need to."
Clarke shook her head, swallowing, appearing parched, as if she'd spent years in a desert without water, as her eyes stared at the three straps that were being lubed up.
"If not," Diana growled, and she and Natasha held Clarke tightly, holding her legs open, "We're going to split you apart, girl."
Clarke whimpered both in some fear but also appreciation.
She always did love it when her mates were rough with her.
Clarke looked at her mates, smirking, and she was certain they could read how much she wanted this in her eyes.
Diana and Natasha both chuckled. "Well," Natasha said dryly, "I think maybe you'd better get ready, girl. You're going to be stuffed full of our straps for a while, slut."
And with that, she and Diana thrust forward at the same time, hard.
Author's note
As said, messy, but wanted to write that quickly. Also, love writing that Bellamy gets killed horribly.
