Disclaimer: Do not own Marvel or The 100
Warnings for normalized sexual assault and unhealthy relationships and child abandonment
Nothing is better than some mommy attention:
Chapter one
Clarke Griffin knew she had issues. Serious issues.
Even as she had grown up in the orphanage and the various foster homes, she had known. Her young mind had been able to comprehend that much.
What she hadn't understood at the time, but what had been processed over the years to the way it was now, was that her yearning for the love of her mother, her birth mother, who had abandoned her years ago as a small child, had been warped, due to her life experiences.
And when her sexuality began to form, her yearning for motherly love and warmth and acceptance, in a way, had become entangled with her sexuality, and her sexuality and her desire for maternal attention both had become twisted together.
No longer could Clarke distinct one from the other.
She always had been disturbed by this aspect of herself, and when she had become an adult, it was what had kept her from pursuing the actual sex she desired.
She feared stigma. She feared her own hunger.
She was left yearning. Her hunger for motherly tenderness and sexual passion left festering like wounds.
And then she had been abducted by her mates.
And she was subjected to pleasure that she hadn't even begun to contemplate.
But it had fed her hunger.
It had been years since then. She knew her mates well enough to know that if she told them to kill themselves or to leave her and never come near her again, they would obey.
They had only grabbed her at the time, to try to wane her off of her drug addiction.
Now that she no longer was taking drugs? They wouldn't keep her from leaving.
Not that that excused the sexual assaults in any capacity. Her mates understood that what they had done was wrong. And it was why they would happily embrace Clarke telling them to end their own lives, if that was what she wished.
They knew that what they had done had been unforgivable, so, they relished at the chance of cutting out their organs and presenting them to her, if that was what she demanded for.
But she hadn't.
She supposed that that psychologically meant that she was mentally twisted and damaged too. In fact, she knew she was. But she had been mentally twisted and damaged long before her mates had ever come into the picture.
But she was addicted to the maternal attention that the women of her mates that called themselves "mommy," gave to her.
Then there were of course, Peggy, Frigga and Dottie.
The three of them were not Clarke's soulmates.
Peggy and Dottie were two of her mates' many servants, and Frigga was the mother of four of her mates. The birth mother of Thor, and the stepmother of Hela and the adoptive mother of Loki and Sylvie.
Almost as soon as Clarke had met each of them, she had realized she would let them do anything to her.
Just looking at them, she got the sense that she could call them "mommy" and they would instantly pull her onto their laps.
And she had been right.
Clarke hungered for their maternal attention, even if they gave it to her without her permission.
This was probably why today, as Clarke was finished putting away her new paintings in her room, some of her clothes marked up with red, blue, yellow and purple paint, she felt a pair of hands on her waist and pull her backwards, and she looked behind her, startled, she felt her breath be caught in her throat, and felt herself becoming soaked almost immediately, when she saw who grabbed her.
Frigga.
And behind her, were Peggy Carter and Dottie Underwood.
Clarke swallowed, feeling her cunt becoming wetter by the second.
Her mommies were here.
Yes, Clarke got a lot of maternal attention from her "mommies" within the number of her mates.
Frank, Bruce, Yelena, Steve, Pietro, Carol, Tony, Thor, Sam, Danny, Natasha-they were her daddies.
And Jessica, Wanda, Simone, Melina, Elektra, Hela, Pepper and Sylvie? Her mommies? They gave her endless maternal attention.
It was the same for the other "mommies," in Clarke's mates' group of servants.
Christine, Gamora, Sif, Jane-Clarke loved the attention she received from them.
And Clarke ate it all up happily. But for some reason? Frigga, Dottie and Peggy were almost like "uber mommies."
All they had to do was look at Clarke, and suddenly, she was wet.
"Hello, Clarke," Frigga cooed, pulling Clarke to her, and Clarke felt something thick and hard being pressed against her ass.
Clarke gulped. Hell, Frigga was strapped right now.
And she was going to go out on a limb and assume that both Peggy and Dottie were strapped, as well.
She could see in Peggy's right hand, was a container of lube.
Just waiting to be used.
Clarke started to protest, more because she felt like she had to, than she actually wanted to, and Frigga leaned down, her mouth fixing around Clarke's pulse point and licked and sucked, causing Clarke to cry out quietly.
She heard footsteps coming closer, then felt her pants being undone and pulled down around her ankles. She felt her shoes being pulled off, then felt her pants being pulled off and tossed away.
Her buttoned down shirt was opened up.
She cried out as she felt Frigga grasp her right breast, squeezing it through the bra's cup, and felt Dottie grabbing her hips from behind.
Clarke's hands were free for the moment, but she couldn't feel the will to start struggling.
She wanted her mommies' cocks. She wanted them to devour her. She wanted them to rail her and make her their bitch.
"Let's see just how wet our slut is today," Frigga crooned, as soon as she opened her mouth and raised her face away from the younger blonde's neck, and her hand went from Clarke's breast, down to between Clarke's legs, beginning to finger Clarke through the fabric of Clarke's underwear.
Clarke whimpered, instantly bucking her hips forward at the intrusion of Frigga's right index finger.
"My, my," Frigga commented and though Clarke's eyes were closed, she could picture the other woman's catlike smirk, "So wet. So very wet. Let's see if we can make her cum a waterfall."
Peggy and Dottie shared a laugh and Clarke heard movement by her feet, then felt a finger hook on the hem of her underwear and begin to pull it down.
She felt Frigga move her fingers away, but those fingers were soon replaced by a mouth.
Clarke screamed, and she thrust her hips forward almost unwillingly, as a hungry, hot tongue began to wildly stroke back and forth against her clit.
Finally, Clarke's body was moving, though not to try to run, but twisting against the pleasure that was assailing her.
The hands on her hips and Frigga's arms wrapping around her arms, kept her from squirming away, though.
Though Clarke's eyes weren't open, she knew that this meant that Peggy was down on her knees and her mouth was between Clarke's legs.
Clarke then cried out when she felt two fingers enter her and thrust hard into her stretched ring of muscle, as Peggy's tongue still worked the blonde's clit.
Clarke didn't last long, Peggy just kept lapping at Clarke's clit, and Clarke screamed, coming hard, clenching around Peggy's fingers and slammed her cunt into Peggy's smirking lips.
Peggy moaned, as she was drenched with Clarke's pleasure.
Clarke almost bucked her hips again, moaning, when she heard Dottie purr, "It's my turn to devour her next, Carter."
"You two restrain yourselves," Frigga instructed, voice hard, "Each of us will have a chance. More than one chance. But we talked about this before. We can take our time. Give Clarke a lot of our time and affection. After all, we know that she loves it when we're her mommies."
As Clarke was sure that Frigga expected, Clarke practically melted as soon as she heard Frigga refer to herself, Dottie and Peggy as her "mommies."
She slumped against Frigga, and Frigga and Dottie's arms held her carefully.
Peggy chuckled, "I think what Frigga is saying, Underwood, is that I can do whatever I want with Clarke's pussy, isn't that right, Clarke? You want mommy to fuck your cunt with her tongue?"
Clarke practically sobbed against Frigga, as Frigga stroked her hair, gently soothing her quietly and Peggy laughed.
"Well," Peggy exclaimed, "I think that might just be a 'yes.'"
Clarke shrieked, her hips bucking again, as soon as Peggy's tongue entered her pussy, and Peggy's right thumb began to stroke the younger woman's clitoris.