Warnings for societal misogyny, trauma, child neglect and abandonment and for sexual assault in this chapter.

Bruce:

The gynecologist's office was cool and spacious. And Clarke couldn't say she was comfortable, being on the seat where she was supposed to be to be…..inspected. Her heels were in the stirrups and her legs were spread, her pants and underwear and everything off of her, and the doctor was informing her that everything looked alright.

Bruce was leaning back against the wall, snickering. She could practically hear what he was thinking as the doctor inspected her.

(I bet you wished he put his mouth on your cunt, baby girl,) was what most likely what Bruce was thinking about saying, but didn't say it.

Clarke knew there was no point in them checking to see how fertile she was. She knew that that was pointless.

She was infertile, as she had discovered a few years back.

She'd had several crying fits at the time, not because she had necessarily desperately wanted children, but because she felt like it was just one more indication that she was broken.

That there was something wrong with her.

No, Clarke didn't buy into that myth about women that women were only meant for one thing-childbirth, and if they couldn't give birth, then they automatically were broken.

It was just a buildup of things.

Her being abandoned when she was a small child. Her being neglected and unwanted. Her dealing with all that trauma and turning to drugs for it.

Not to mention being aware, for years, that she had words on her arms indicating that she was going to meet her soulmates under very not ideal circumstances.

That, and finding out that she was infertile? No shit, she felt like she was broken.

Finding out that she was infertile was just the tipping point.

She had joked, snorting the words out through her tears, "Well, at least you guys won't have to waste money anymore on birth control."

Her mates, however, held her and reassured her that her not being able to have children, meant nothing. She wasn't broken or wrong in some way just because she couldn't have children.

She couldn't have children, so what? As if her only value as a person, was pumping babies out?

But her mates also knew that it went deeper than just her learning that she couldn't have children.

They knew it went much deeper than that.

The reason why Clarke cried when she found this out, wasn't just because she could never give "use what she had" the way misogynists thought she should.

It was because it just stemmed from loads and loads of insecurities that existed long before finding out she was infertile.

Her mates had held her for hours and hours. They always tended to her lovingly and sweetly, but they'd known they needed to be there for her at that time more than ever.

It was just one of the reasons why Bruce was here. They wanted to make sure she wasn't a lone here, when Clarke was being examined. They wanted to be here in case Clarke got upset or potentially got triggered.

Clarke knew there were other reasons. One of those reasons being that as soon as Bruce got the doctor to leave, Bruce's pants would be down and she'd be fucked against the examination table against her will.

But Bruce was also here to make sure Clarke had comfort here, should she get upset.

The doctor pulled away from Clarke's extremities and said, nodding to her, smiling, "Everything appears normal. I mean, apart from the obvious that you can't…," his voice trailed off but Clarke knew what he was getting at.

"Yes, thank you, I know," Clarke said, "Is that all? Everything's fine otherwise?"

The gynecologist nodded. "Yes, ma'am," he said, and he looked back to Bruce, "I'm sure you and your partner would like some time alone?"

Obviously, the guy thought that Bruce and Clarke were just going to talk. Hah!

Bruce smiled and said, "I think that's about right. Some time alone, thank you."

The gynecologist looked at Clarke and Clarke nodded to him.

She had no idea how long Bruce planned to fuck her brains out, but it was likely going to take a while.

Bruce watched as the gynecologist left and as soon as the door was closed, Bruce was on Clarke in a second, removing his belt, grabbing Clarke's hands, tying them together and binding them to the hook next to the shelf right behind the examination table.

Clarke struggled, kicking her knees against his chest.

Clarke had long since made the decision that she wouldn't turn her mates in for any of the things they had done. Which was why she hadn't said anything to the gynecologist.

That didn't mean that she was willing to have sex with Bruce right now.

As Bruce bound Clarke's wrists, he leaned down and kissed her throat, occasionally biting it.

Clarke gasped as he did, whimpering as well.

Bruce then pulled back and stuck three of his fingers on his right hand into his mouth and slowly pulled them out smirking at Clarke as she squirmed.

"Shh, baby," he cooed, "I know that having that guy's fingers in you, turned you on. You need it."

Clarke gasped when the first of Bruce's fingers entered her easily. Unfortunately, he was not wrong.

Clarke had for years, before she'd met her mates, been what one might call, "sexually repressed."

Yes, she'd had sex with the various people she would date. But they could never satisfy her in the ways she needed.

And what was more, she was afraid of admitting to what she wanted.

She never had been able to feel like she could outright tell people what it was she wanted sexually.

Because it didn't matter what she had wanted throughout her life, including wanting her biological mother's love.

What she wanted, never seemed to matter. And what she did to try to earn any sort of respect or anything like that, never seemed to be good enough.

So, she had kept everything inside. She repressed everything.

So, when she had an examination like this? It was easy for her to get turned on.

And unfortunately, Bruce knew this for a fact.

Clarke's wrists were bound, and Bruce pressed his left hand against Clarke's chest, holding her down, and his next finger was added, then there was the third one, his right thumb stroking against Clarke's clitoris, causing Clarke to gasp and arch.

"No," Clarke whispered, eyes closing as her pale blonde hair hung over the edge of the examination table.

She felt something inside her begin to coil and she knew exactly what it was.

Bruce kept stroking her clit and kept thrusting his fingers in and out of her cunt.

Clarke felt his eyes on her as he fingered her and stroked her clit.

She heard him whisper as he leaned in close, speaking into her left ear, "It's okay, baby. You don't need to hide what you want. Not from me. It's okay."

He was between her legs, keeping them apart, and he angled his fingers and thrust them in such a way that when he stroked her clit harder, Clarke was sent over the edge, crying out, vision filling with pure white, as she clenched around his fingers.

Her legs shook as she bucked into his fingers.

Gasps left her as the pleasure subsided.

Not letting Clarke recover, though, Bruce pulled his fingers out of her, pulled his thumb from her clit and lowered himself down between Clarke's legs, his mouth going to Clarke's cunt, tongue thrusting into Clarke's cunt hard.

Clarke screamed, the overstimulation hitting immediately. She arched off of the table as Bruce's tongue lashed about inside her, stroking against her clit.

She felt Bruce gripping her thighs, stroking them.

His tongue lashed around in her cunt, stroking her clit, and his left hand went to her clit, his thumb stroking it.

Clarke didn't last long, she arched harder and came again, clenching around Bruce's tongue, a ragged moan being pulled from her.

Bruce pulled his tongue out of Clarke's cunt and he leaned his face in further, wrapping his lips around Clarke's clit and sucking, his tongue now flicking at Clarke's clit.

Clarke twisted against the examination table, slammed back into it, screamed as her body twisted, her eyes rolling up into her skull.

The next climax and orgasm that crashed through her was the hardest and most explosive one yet.

Over a thousand fireworks blasted through her vision.

Clarke's back strained with the force of her climax and orgasm, and felt herself clench around nothing.

Her panting came out weakly, as Bruce removed his mouth from her clit.

She then heard Bruce stand up, and heard the telltale sound of his zipper being undone.

If Clarke had more strength, she might try to struggle off of the table and out of his range, but she didn't.

It felt like Bruce had drained her of a great deal of her energy just now.

And when she heard Bruce pull his pants down, and heard him pull something out of his pocket-most likely a vial of lube, she knew she could do nothing.

She heard the vial being popped open and squeezed, hearing the lube being pushed out.

She heard Bruce rubbing something on himself. She didn't have to open her eyes to know what it was.

Bruce lathering lube all over his cock.

She heard the vial being capped then and heard him stuff it into his pocket then, and she felt his hands grip her thighs, pushing in closer.

"Don't," Clarke finally was able to push out, though she knew Bruce would not listen, "Please don't, Bruce."

"No?" Bruce asked, a chuckle in his voice that told Clarke easily that Bruce wasn't going to stop any time soon, "You don't want this?" The tip of his cock pressed against her entrance, "You're still turned on. Cum leaked out of your cunt after I made you climax just now. You still need a good fucking, baby girl. Go on, baby, just call me daddy."

He stroked his cock along Clarke's vaginal folds, rubbing his thickness against her clit, making Clarke whimper and squirm.

She could feel herself already getting stimulated again.

"No," she whimpered out, but she could feel the resistance fading.

"Come on," Bruce cooed, as he kept stroking his cock along her vaginal folds and against her clit, "Come on."

Clarke brokenly, after being so overstimulated, couldn't help it. She gasped out, "Daddy, please…"

Bruce smirked and pulled back, positioning the head of his lubed up cock at her vaginal entrance.

And he thrust up into her.

Clarke was infertile. She didn't need to worry about getting pregnant.

And Bruce and the rest of Clarke's mates got checked out as well, so, Clarke knew that none of her mates had any sexually transmitted infections.

There was no need for condoms right now.

Bruce buried himself completely in Clarke's cunt, balls deep.

Clarke gasped, she was able to somehow force her eyes open, to look at Bruce as he grunted, plowing into her hard, thrusting in and out, and as turned on as she was? It didn't take Clarke long before she began to bucking her hips up to meet his thrusts.

Bruce cooed as he leaned forward, kissing Clarke's breasts through her shirt, gently sucking on Clarke's right nipple through her bra, as he thrust into her harder, making Clarke cry out.

He released his mouth from Clarke's nipple and groaned, "You see, baby girl? You see? You don't need to think about anything else. Not about people's expectations of you. You owe no one nothing. Certainly not me and the rest of your mates. You don't owe anyone birth. You're not just some breeding machine. Feel the pleasure, and let it tear into you. You owe the world nothing. Take your pleasure."

Clarke groaned, her mind quickly going blank with the next powerful wave of pleasure, with his thrusts.

So, that what this was about.

Not just about comforting her. Or to fuck her brains out. Trying to make her see that she deserved the world. That just because a society had a certain expectation of a woman to be nothing but a machine to pump out babies, didn't mean that she needed to fulfill it. That she deserved nothing but pleasure, and to take that pleasure, regardless of the expectations cast onto her.

How appropriate it was, that Bruce was trying to be soothing and heartwarming, when he was violating his mate and forcing her to feel the pleasure he believed she rightly deserved to be ravaged by.

Author's note

To answer any questions about who fucked Clarke in this chapter? It was Bruce, non-consensually. In the gynecologist's office, with his fingers, his mouth and his cock!