Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/12960102. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage, Major_Character Death Category: F/F, F/M Fandom: MCU, Avengers, Black_Widow_-_Fandom Relationship: Black_Widow/Winter_Soldier, Black_Widow/Madame_B. Character: Natasha_Romanov, Madame_B., Winter_Soldier Additional Tags: Rape, VERY_UNDERAGE, Spanking, Death, Older_Woman/Younger_Woman, Dubious Consent, noncon, Red_Room_(Marvel), Older_Man/Younger_Woman, Much_Older Woman, MUCH_OLDER_MAN, Violence, Angst, Public_Humiliation, Humiliation kink, Brainwashed, Choking Series: Part 8 of MCU_Fetish Stats: Published: 2017-12-09 Words: 2594 ****** Gushing Red ****** by StannisTheMannis Summary You'll break them. Only the breakable ones. You are made of marble. The dead man lay at the feet of the little girl. There was a bag over his head, and a hole in his chest. The little girl had a gun in her hands. But she hadn't fired the trigger. "Another failure," chided Madame B., the older woman standing at the edge of the training yard, as she lowered her pistol. "When will you learn, Natasha?" Natasha lowered her head, ashamed. "I'm sorry, Madame. I just- I can't do it." Madame B. nodded, her lips pursed. She sat down in the wooden chair next to her, and patted her lap. "Then I suppose you must be punished once more, until the lesson sticks. Come here." The young girl knew what was coming, and she hated it. It was bad enough in private, but here, out in the open, where all the other guards and trainees could see- "I don't have all day," called out the Madame, and Natasha walked towards her, blushing furiously, looking down at the ground. When she reached Madame B., Natasha bent down over the woman's knees, raising her ass up in the air. The guards were watching with rapt attention, though the trainees tried to ignore her, focusing on their training or their ballet. Madame B. lifted up Natasha's skirt, exposing her underwear. For a second, Natasha hoped that the Madame wouldn't keep going, but after a brief pause she pulled down the young girl's panties, leaving her ass bare. Natasha scrunched her eyes shut, bracing herself, and yet the speed and strength of the strike still took her by surprise. THWACK! "Oh!" Natasha yelped, unable to stop herself, and Madame B. continued. THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! "Please!" cried Natasha, as she choked back sobs. "I've- I've learned my lesson! Just- no more!" But the Madame didn't relent. She never did. THWACK! THWACK! Soon, Natasha's backside was a bright red, and sore enough that each spank truly hurt, instead of just being humiliating. The guards were getting off on this, she realized as she saw the way they were looking at her. They want me. Sometimes, a guard would try to have their way with one of the girls, but whenever they did either the girl killed them or Madame B. did. Natasha kept a curved piece of metal underneath her pillow just in case, but she knew she wouldn't be able to use it when the time came. THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! The pain was too much, overwhelming and unrelenting, getting worse and worse. Natasha was crying now, sobbing, tears streaming down her cheeks, and just when she thought she could take no more, the spanking was over. "Stand up," said Madame B. with barely concealed disgust. Natasha did as she said, reaching down to pull up her panties, but the Madame grabbed her wrist. "I didn't say you could get dressed," she said, and the young girl's heart sank. Her trainer shook her head, frowning. "Oh, Natasha, what are we going to do with you?" She reached out suddenly, grabbing one of Natasha's breasts, pinching the soft flesh. Though still younger than most of the other girls, Natasha's body had already began to develop in ways their's wouldn't for a long time. Her hips were wide, now, and her chest was full. Natasha couldn't say she was glad. "Look at you," said the older woman sadly, as she rubbed a finger over Natasha's nipple, watching as it hardened slowly. "What a pretty little girl you are. Any man would do anything to have you. What will you do when one tries to assert themself on you, and you aren't willing or able to defend yourself?" "I will," said Natasha in a quiet voice. "I can." Madame B. smiled humorlessly, and handed Natasha her pistol, before pointing off in the distance. "Then prove it." Natasha turned, and watched as two guards escorted another handcuffed man with a bag over his head across the training yard, before shoving him to his knees. This time, however, they pulled the bag off of his face, and stepped off to the side. The prisoner looked up at Natasha and grinned. He had a wild, unkempt look to him, with tangled hair, a bushy beard, and a mouth full of yellow teeth. His pale eyes moved over Natasha's body, and his smile got even wider. "You know, you remind me a lot of a girl I once knew," said the prisoner. "Yeah, she was a good fuck. I bet you'd be even better, though." Natasha raised her gun, trying to keep it aimed on the man, but her hands were trembling violently. The prisoner saw this, and laughed. "What's the matter, sweetie? Scared? You should be. You know why I'm here? I used to travel the roads, picking up girls just like you. I'd have some fun with them, then I'd slit their pretty little throats." "Be quiet," squeaked Natasha, and he chuckled merrily. "If I do, will you give me a kiss?" He puckered his lips, closing his eyes. Natasha looked back at Madame B., and when she nodded the young girl turned back to the prisoner. But as much as she wanted to, as much as she knew she had to, she couldn't pull the trigger. "Do it," said the Madame suddenly, and one of the guards pointed his gun down at the prisoner and fired. The bullet whizzed through the chain of the man's cuffs, shattering them, and in an instead he was on his feet, sprinting forward towards Natasha, hands outstretched- She had the shot. She had the shot, but she didn't take it. He tackled her, knocking her to the ground, pinning him with his body weight. The prisoner's calloused hands wrapped around Natasha's neck, squeezing hard, his erection pushing against her sex, and Natasha tried to scream, tried to cry out, but she couldn't. "Like that, you little tease?" asked the man, snarling like a savage animal as he dug his fingers into her throat, the nails cutting deep enough to draw blood. Natasha gasped for air, but none came, and the world was growing black, and reality was fading away, and Natasha saw the light in the distance, and she reached out- Then the grip around her neck weakened, and the prisoner fell to his side, eyes wide open, a bloody hole in his forehead. Panting, Natasha looked up to see Madame B. standing over her, a look of disappointment on her face. Almost a week had passed since Natasha was last tested, and soon the girl began to hope that they had decided she was a lost cause, not worth training. But then, one day, she came from her room to see a large crowd of trainees and guards alike gathered in the yard. Natasha pushed her way past them, and in the center of the training yard she saw a sleek black helicopter. The side opened up, and a man walked out. He was tall, and muscular, with shoulder-length brown hair and dark eyes. He was beautiful and frightening and when she first saw him Natasha knew she was in love. And then she saw his arm, silver and metallic, painted with a red star. And Natasha realized she was face to face with the Winter Soldier. His eyes met hers, and he looked into them, without blinking. Natasha felt herself begin to blush for some unknowable reason. And then Madame B. called out to the Winter Soldier, and he looked away. "I'm so glad you could make it!" she said with a smile. "We really are in desperate need of your help." "What's the mission?" the Soldier asked gruffly. "She is," said the Madame, as she pointed at Natasha. They took her to a dark room in the basement of the facility. The Winter Soldier held her arms so she couldn't run, though she wouldn't have tried to anyway. The room was empty besides the bed in the middle, and the small lantern hanging from the wall, its flickering light sending Natasha's shadow dancing on the wall. Madame B. stood in the corner, watching impassively. Natasha sat down on the bed, looking up at the man towering over her. His eyes were cold and empty, but not cruel, like those of the guards. And Natasha suddenly realized that he didn't want to be following commands any more than she did. "Undress," ordered the Madame, and Natasha stood up on the bed. She grabbed the bottom of her dress and looked at the Winter Soldier, maintaining eye contact with him as she pulled her clothes over her head, before tossing them to the ground. "Tell her what you think," Madame B. told the Soldier, as Natasha crossed her arms, her little pink nipples hard in the cold air, feeling painfully exposed. "You're beautiful," said the Winter Soldier, and Natasha almost smiled. Madame B. smirked. "She's a virgin, too. Have you ever been with a girl as young as her?" The Soldier shook his head, but his eyes never left Natasha's full, pale breasts. "Do you want to take her?" asked the woman, and he nodded slowly. "Then do it." As the Winter Soldier stepped forward, Natasha started to back away reflexively, but his metal hand darted forward, grabbing her wrist surprisingly gently. She gave up, standing still on the bed, as the man raised his other hand, his normal one, and softly brushed a finger over one erect nipple. Natasha gasped at the sensation filling her body, like a shiver of heat. She'd felt it only a few times before, when watching the older trainees fuck or sometimes, God help her, when Madame B. punished her, but never like this. His rough, calloused hand wrapped around one of her tits, feeling its pleasant weight, thumb swirling around the nipple in a way that made Natasha moan, and at the same time the robotic arm moved down towards her shaven pink pussy, one metal finger slipping inside. "Oh, god," she cried out, and the Winter Soldier kissed her. It was soft and slow and almost sweet, his stubble against her chin, his tongue in her mouth, as he moved his fingers faster inside of her, sending jolts of pleasure and pain through her body. "How cruel you are," laughed Madame B. from the corner, "To play with your food before you eat it. Just do it already, soldier. That's an order." His eyes snapped open suddenly, and he broke off the kiss. Natasha frowned, forehead wrinkling in confusion, and quick as a whip his metal hand grabbed her by the neck and slammed her roughly into the bed. "Wait-" she cried out, barely able to breathe with his mechanical fingers wrapping around her soft pale neck, but he wasn't listening. The Soviet Super- Soldier unzipped his pants, pulling out a half-hard cock, and Natasha closed her eyes, as if that would make it go away- "Ahhh!" screamed Natasha suddenly, arching her back, eyes scrunched shut as the Winter Soldier pushed inside of her, one arm strangling her as the other pinched and twisted her nipples until they were sore- And he fucked her hard and fast and without mercy, his erection massive inside of her, like it was splitting her apart- And once more the darkness encircled her, as she struggled to stay conscious, the world blurry, each breath an effort- Maybe it'd be better to just give in, Natasha told herself. Maybe it'd better to just let it end- But then the vice-like grip released her, and reality came flooding back as Natasha vision focused, and she saw his face looking down at her, like an executioner, eyes- Not empty, she realized, and what she saw in his dark brown eyes entranced her so greatly that she didn't even notice the agony that had once filled her body. His eyes were full of pain. Pain and remorse. He's as much of a prisoner as I am. The Winter Soldier was still deep inside her, his thrusts just as violent as ever, his hands just as rough as they kneaded her plump breasts, but none of that seemed real to Natasha anymore. There was only him. And in a way, as silly as it might sound, Natasha felt sorry for the man raping her. When he finally came inside of her cunt, he looked deep into her eyes, and Natasha found that she too was close to her climax. "It's okay," she whispered in his ear, before the force of her orgasm overwhelmed her, rippling through her body. Natasha grabbed the Winter Soldier and held him close to her as she came, her soft breasts pushing up against his muscular chest, her fingers clawing his back in ecstasy- "Enough," snapped Madame B. The Soldier immediately pulled out of Natasha, standing up straight, awaiting further commands. "That'll be all," continued the Madame. "You can go." "Yes, ma'am," he replied, pulling on his pants and turning to the door. Natasha watched him go with a twinge of sadness. The next day, Madame B. gave her a gun, and then there was another man kneeling at her feet. A murderer, they told her. The kind of man who deserved to die. Maybe it was true. Maybe it wasn't. But Natasha didn't care anymore. "No," she said, lowering the gun and turning to her Mistress. "I won't." Madame B. raised a hand threateningly, but Natasha didn't even flinch. "You will kill him," said the Madame angrily. "Or you will be punished most severely-" "Then punish me." The older woman looked like she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her eyes were wide, her lips were drawn back into a snarl, and her hand still stayed in the air, not moving. All around them, the guards and other trainees were stopping what they were doing to watch them, and Madame B.'s eyes moved around nervously. No one had ever stood up to her like that. As Natasha waited, she noticed that the Madame was really a quite attractive woman. For some reason, the young girl had always seen her as some kind of monster, the Red Room personified. But she was just a person, like Natasha, like the Winter Soldier. And her breasts were surprisingly perky for someone her age, and her lips were soft and full. What was more, Natasha realized that her trainer and master was staring at her with barely disguised lust, her eyes drawn to the younger girl's still developing breasts. She wants me, Natasha knew suddenly. She's always wanted me- Madame B.'s hand came down hard, hitting Natasha in the face. She stumbled back, a thin trickle of blood dripping down her chin, but then she stood up straight, looking at the Madame. Aware that dozens of eyes were on her, Natasha strode towards Madame B., before whispering in the older woman's ear. "If you want to punish me... let's do it privately. That would be a lot more fun, wouldn't it?" Natasha moved back, saw the Madame staring at her with a mixture of fury and disgust, and braced herself for the next strike. But it never came. "Come to my office," said Madame B. quietly, blushing crimson. And then she was gone, swiftly walking across the training yard, and Natasha followed merrily. And later, when Natasha had the Madame on her back, fingering her until she was screaming, bringing her to orgasm with ease, the Russian girl smiled to herself. Life was going to be a lot more fun in the Red Room from then on. 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