Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/12513376. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con, Underage, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character Death Category: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi Fandom: Marvel_Cinematic_Universe, The_Avengers_(Marvel_Movies), Marvel, Captain America_-_All_Media_Types, Iron_Man_(Movies), The_Avengers_(Marvel)_-_All Media_Types, The_Defenders_(Marvel_TV), Daredevil_(TV), Jessica_Jones_ (TV), Ant-Man_(Movies), Doctor_Strange_(2016), Guardians_of_the_Galaxy_ (Movies), Spider-Man:_Homecoming_(2017), Thor_(Movies), Agents_of S.H.I.E.L.D._(TV) Relationship: Peggy_Carter_&_Sharon_Carter, Peggy_Carter/Sharon_Carter, Pepper_Potts/ Tony_Stark, Sharon_Carter/Sam_Wilson, Peggy_Carter/Natasha_Romanov, Peggy Carter/Stephen_Strange, Natasha_Romanov/Stephen_Strange, Pietro_Maximoff/ Wanda_Maximoff, Peter_Parker/Darcy_Lewis, Peter_Parker/Laura_Barton, Laura_Barton/Clint_Barton, Clint_Barton/Pietro_Maximoff, Laura_Barton/ Pietro_Maximoff, Clint_Barton/Laura_Barton/Pietro_Maximoff, Peter_Parker/ Betty_Brant, Peter_Parker/Michelle_Jones, May_Parker/Nick_Fury, Clint Barton/Laura_Barton/Pietro_Maximoff/Wanda_Maximoff, Peter_Parker/Aunt May, Peter_Parker/Anne_Hoag, Peter_Parker/Karen, Sharon_Carter/Wanda Maximoff, Sharon_Carter/Pietro_Maximoff, Sharon_Carter/Wanda_Maximoff/ Pietro_Maximoff, Jeri_Hogarth/Pam, Steve_Rogers/Bucky_Barnes, Nick_Fury/ Bobbi_Morse, Kingpin/Elektra, Kingpin/Karen_Page, Kingpin/Claire_Temple, Peggy_Carter/Hela, Loki/Hela, Peggy_Carter/Kilgrave, Loki/Thor, Peter Parker/Liz_Allan, Liz_Allan/Betty_Brant, Adrian_Toomes/Liz_Allan Character: Peggy_Carter, Sharon_Carter, Darren_Cross, Phineas_Mason, Nick_Fury, Phil Coulson, Pepper_Potts, Tony_Stark, Wanda_Maximoff, Natasha_Romanov_ (Marvel), Sam_Wilson, Steve_Rogers, Thor, Happy_Hogan, Grant_Ward, Dr. Strange, Pietro_Maximoff, Peter_Parker, Ned_Leeds, Aunt_May, Darcy_Lewis, Laura_Barton, Clint_Barton, Michelle_Jones, Betty_Brant, Adrian_Toomes, Herman_Schultz, Jack_Rollins, Christine_Everheart, Shuri, Jackson_Brice, Ivan_Vanko, Karen_(Spider-Man:_Homecoming), Anne_Hoag, Bruce_Banner, James_Rhodes, Bucky_Barnes, Thunderbolt_Ross, Erik_Selvig, Emil_Blonsky, Flash_Thompson, Kingpin, Killgrave, Loki, Whiplash_-_Character, Crossbones, Jessica_Jones, Jeri_Hogarth, Pam_(Jessica_Jones), Trish Walker, Robyn_(Jessica_Jones), Hope_(Jessica_Jones), Aldrich_Killian, Hela, Frank_Castle, Danny_Rand, Matthew_Murdock, Claire_Temple, Karen Page, Elektra_Natchios, Bobbi_Morse, Luke_Cage, Frigga, Doris_Allan, Liz Allan, Garret_(Agents_of_SHIELD) Additional Tags: Incest, Aunt-Niece_Relationship, Oral_Sex, Lesbian_Sex, Bisexual_Female Character, Older_Woman/Younger_Woman, Dubious_Consent, Underage_Sex, Work In_Progress, First_Time, First_Kiss, Prostitution, Brothel_AU, marvel_AU, Slow_Burn, Romance, kind_of_twisted, Going_to_get_a_lot_more_twisted..., BDSM, Femdom, Sub_Tony, dom_pepper, Doggy_Style, Consensual_Infidelity, relationship_troubles, Maledom, Female_Protagonists, Dom/sub relationship, dom_peggy, Sub_Sharon, Mommy_Kink, Twincest, Sibling Incest, Incest_Fetish, Teen_Sex, Older_Woman/Younger_Man, polygamous relationship, Breastfeeding_Kink, Lactation_Kink, Pregnancy_Kink, Breeding_Kink, Age_Difference, Spanking, Fingering, Sexual_Situations Involving_Minors, Blowjobs, Oral, Strippers_&_Strip_Clubs, Sexual Assault, Groping, Attempted_Rape, Aunt-Nephew_Relationship, face_fucking, Masturbation, Stripping, Anal, Older_Man/Younger_Man, Violence, Violent Sex, Violent_Anal_Sex, Sexual_Abuse, Rape, Biting, Incest_Kink, Father- Daughter_Relationship, Death, Depression, Trauma, Abuse, Threesome, boot fucking, Leather_Fetish, Very_Dubious_Consent, Daddy_Kink, Gang_Bang, Cum Fetish, Brainwashing, Mind_Control, Drugs, sex_under_the_influence, Choking, Hypnosis, Hypnotism, sex_slaves, Attempted_Murder, Murder, complete_submission, bimbofication, Whipping, Knife_Play, Blood_Play, Slapping, Boot_Worship, Porn_With_Plot, Plot_With_Porn Stats: Published: 2017-10-26 Completed: 2017-12-05 Chapters: 26/26 Words: 48957 ****** Not To Do What I Have Done ****** by StannisTheMannis Summary Part 1: Aunt Peggy had always been Sharon's favorite. What starts as youthful experimentation develops into a romance that must survive threats to its stability coming from all directions. Can their relationship survive a trial by fire, or will the dangerous and at times depraved world of prostitution destroy everything they've worked for? Part 2: After the death of his Uncle, teenager Peter Parker, desperate to find a way to support himself and his aunt, joins the Compound. At first, he greatly enjoys his newfound sexual freedom, going from virgin to prostitute literally over night. But as his work life begins to get tangled up with his personal life, Peter starts to consider the possibility that he is in way over his head. Part 3: Old rivalries and twisted loves come to a head, as the will of a madman threatens to end Sharon and Peggy's dream of a better future forever. It's a race against time with more than love at stake. Notes Title comes from the traditional folk song "House of the Rising Sun." ***** And the Rivers With The Ocean ***** Chapter Notes Title comes from "Love's Philosophy" by Percy Shelley. Aunt Peggy had always been Sharon's favorite. When Sharon was born, it had been a four-year old Peggy who demanded to see the new arrival into the family first. Her mother, Sharon's grandmother, chided her, telling her to be patient and wait her turn, but Peggy insisted. It had always been tough growing up with a sister a decade and a half older, in college before Peggy was in preschool, and the little girl was glad to finally have someone closer to her own age to play with. Eventually, Sharon's mother let her younger sister hold the new baby, and Peggy smiled jubilantly, holding her close. They grew up more like sisters than aunt and niece. Sharon lived with her grandparents while her mother finished collage, and so she and Peggy spent all their time together. They would play games together, read books together, sing songs together. They were inseparable, even after Peggy's older sister graduated and took Sharon to live with her. They were still living close enough to see each other every week, and they lived for those times. When they got older, they'd play other sorts of games together. Peggy was eleven when she decided that she'd have to start thinking about getting married soon, and her mind immediately turned to Sharon. Not as a potential spouse, of course, but as someone who she could confide her fears and worries with, someone she could trust to keep her secrets. One day, when the two of them were playing in the park, a giggly Peggy told Sharon to close her eyes, before planting an anxious little kiss on her lips. When the younger girl protested, Peggy explained that she needed to be ready when the right man came along, and that Sharon did too, for that matter. Sharon acted reluctant, as if she was only doing it as a favor for Peggy, but a part of her, a part of her that frightened her, enjoyed it. By the time she was fourteen, Peggy had realized it would be a long time before she had to think about a serious relationship, but all of a sudden the boys started to think differently. They would act awkward around her, even the boys she knew since she was a little kid, always tripping over themselves to hold the door for her or pick up something that she dropped. It didn't take her long to realize the cause, nor did she fail to understand why the other girls were starting to give her nasty looks. But Sharon never did. In fact, as Peggy began to experience the changes the older girls had told her so much about, Sharon acted more like the boys did around her than like the girls. Something had changed between them, though she wasn't sure what. Sometimes Peggy caught her staring, her niece turning red when she realized she had been caught. Peggy lost her virginity in the backseat of her father's car at the age of sixteen. It was uncomfortable, awkward, and completely unsatisfying. Nothing like she had hoped of, dreamed of. That night, she drove over to Sharon's house, using the key she knew was hidden under the welcome mat to let herself in. Her older sister and her husband were fast asleep, but Peggy knew Sharon was staying up reading, illuminating the pages with a flashlight like they had together when they were younger. Peggy opened the bedroom door as quietly as she could, and Sharon looked up, eyes wide. She knew what was about to happen, though even Peggy might not have. Such visits became more and more common over the years, with the two girls having to be as inconspicuous as possible to avoid being caught, and when Sharon finally graduated high school, Peggy only had the patience to wait two weeks before showing up in her car in the dead of night. Sharon had packed her bags days before, throwing them into the trunk before taking her seat in the front next to her aunt. Her rightful place, she thought. "Where to?" asked Peggy in her best attempt at a gruff taxi driver voice, and Sharon laughed, before leaning in and kissing the older women softly. They had shared dozens and dozens of kisses since that day in the park eleven years ago, but that one felt special. "Anywhere. If it's with you." Peggy smiled, and drove off. It'd be hours before anyone realized they were gone, and by then they could be anywhere. It was exciting, but a bit scary too. Who knew what could happen, out there in the real world? But it didn't matter, realized Peggy. They were together. And that's all that mattered. ***** A Little Bit Of My Life ***** Chapter Notes Title from "Give a Little Bit" by Supertramp. Sharon dragged the heavy grocery bags up the stairs to her apartment with a groan. She mentally cursed the broken elevator, and more specifically the lazy super who refused to get it fixed. When she reached the door, she dropped the grocery bags and reached into her purse, fumbling for her keys. Sharon opened the apartment door, revealing the run-down, dirty, far too small apartment that she called home. She left the bags by the door, and peeked into the bedroom. Peggy was lying on the twin bed in a towel, with another wrapped around her head. She was typing into their five year old laptop with her forehead creased in concern, but when she saw Sharon she smiled, and Sharon felt herself fall in love all over again. "Oh, it's good to see you, sweetie," she said in that British accent that Sharon completely adored. Sharon smiled and plopped down on the bed next to her aunt, cuddling up close, before frowning when she saw what Peggy had been typing. "Resumes? What about the diner?" Peggy frowned. "I wish you hadn't seen that..." Sharon pushed herself up, looking down at Peggy, confused. "What happened?" "That creep Mason fired me after I refused to suck him off in exchange for a bonus," sighed the older woman. "Oh, Peggy," said Sharon softly. "I'm sorry..." Peggy shook her head. "I don't care about him. I'm used to it, believe me. But... we were already barely getting by before. Now either I have to find a new job, or you'll have to go back to working for Cross, or-" Sharon leaned for, kissing Peggy deeply, and she stopped talking. Peggy put her hands of the side of Sharon's head, running her fingers through the soft blonde hair, wishing that they could just stay like that forever. But Sharon had other ideas, clearly. She reached out and squeezed one of Peggy's firm, full breasts, still glistening from the shower. Peggy moaned, and Sharon tore off her towel, revealing her beautiful pale breasts topped with small pink nipples, her flat stomach, the curly reddish-brown hair above her sex, and finally the sweet mound itself. Sharon grinned, like a wolf would upon inspecting a particularly juicy looking deer, and kissed her way down her lover's body. She sucked on Peggy's neck, eliciting a moan, followed by a sharp yelp as Sharon bit down on one hard nipple. She tugged on it with her teeth as Peggy groaned in a combination of pain and pleasure, before bending down and softly licking the muscular flesh under the breasts. Peggy stretched out, toes curling, eyes closed as she smiled widely. "Oh Sharon, oh sweetie... that's right. Just like that. Just like- OH!" Sharon had finally reached the pink flesh that she treasured so deeply. She dove into it like she was starving, and in a way she was. Peggy reached behind and grabbed the headboards, as every movement of her lover's tongue sent waves of arousal through her body. She gritted her teeth, hissing as the orgasm building and builds until she couldn't hold it any longer. Peggy came with one last moan, deep and guttural and primitive, as Sharon looked up at her with a wide smile and a damp face. She crawled forward, leaned in, and kissed Peggy long and hard. As Peggy tasted her own juices on her lover's tongue, she felt like she would come again right there, but suddenly Sharon broke off the kiss, eyes wide. Desperately Peggy tried to kiss her again, but Sharon jumped out of bed. "What is it?" whined Peggy, surprised at how even after all that she still wasn't sated. "The Compound," she gasped, and Peggy frowned in confusion. "The what?" "The Compound!" said Sharon impatiently. "Darren was always talking about it when I worked for him. It's a brothel, Peggy, a really expensive one. Whever he came back, Cross would always be complaining about how much it cost, though it didn't stop him from asking me to go with him the next night..." "And what did you say?" asked Peggy suspiciously, and Sharon laughed, bending down and kissing the woman on the top of her head. "What do you think I said? Why would I need to pay for a slut when I have a perfectly good one waiting for me at home?" Peggy gasped in mock outrage, and Sharon continued, her grin fading away as she grew serious once more. "The point is, it pays really really well, and apparently it's respectable too, for a brothel at least. I've met the guy who runs it a few times. He plays golf with Darren sometimes. His name is Nick... Nick Furry?" Peggy giggled, and Sharon huffed angrily. "Well, it's something like that anyway. But I could definitely set up a meeting with him to talk about getting a job there." "You mean-?" "I know Peggy, and believe me, I don't like it any more than you do. But I'm serious when I say how well it pays. I had a lot of time to think about it walking four flights of stairs up here, and it's a good deal, really. We'd be making more money in a month than you would in a year working as a waitress, or that I would working as Darren's secretary. And all we'd have to do is, well..." "Get fucked," said Peggy sourly. "By total strangers." "Who knows? Maybe we'd even enjoy it." Peggy reached foreword, grabbing Sharon's waist, and pulling her down onto the bed. She leaned forward and whispered in the blonde girl's ear. "I only want you..." "I know, and I feel the same. I'm just saying... we don't have many options, Peg." Sharon was close to crying, Peggy realized. She knew then how little her niece wanted to go back to work with Darren Cross and his roaming hands... "Convince me," she said, and Sharon's momentary confusion was soon replaced by a wicked grin. That night, when they were both lying in each other's arms, coated in sweat with blissful smiles on their face, Peggy whispered something into Sharon's ear that made her feel relieved and frightened in equal measures. "Alright, then. If you think it's really the best option... I'm in." ***** What A Lovely Place ***** Chapter Notes Title from "Hotel California" by the Eagles. The car pulled in front a large, seemingly abandoned warehouse, with shattered windows revealing a pitch black interior. Peggy climbed out, shivering. She had chosen to wear a tight black dress, wanting to make a good first impression, but she hadn't realized how cold it was. Sharon, always the more sensible one, was wearing jeans and a leather jacket over her white tank top. "Are you sure this is the place?" asked Peggy, and Sharon nodded confidently. "I'm sure. 1963 Kirby Street." Peggy eyed the rusted iron door and the piles of broken glass and rotting garbage around the building. "I thought this was supposed a high-class place," she asked, and Sharon strode up to the door. "You'll see," she said, as she reached down and lifted up a loose slab of concrete, revealing a smooth metal control panel with two small buttons. Sharon clicked the left button, and for a moment nothing happened. Peggy opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly the door to the warehouse slid open. Standing in the doorway was a middle-aged man in a business suit, with short brown hair and a wide smile. "Hi there. I'm Phil. What are you?" Peggy wasn't sure how to respond, tempted to say "people," but luckily Sharon answered first. "We're, uh, candidates." Phil clapped his hands together, still grinning. "Wonderful! Alway good to have new blood. You're... what? Friends, girlfriends, sisters-" "Peggy's my aunt," said Sharon, and Phil froze for a second, eyes bugging out slightly. "Your aunt! You look more like sisters!" He laughed loudly. "Sharon's mother is my sister," explained Peggy patiently, "But we don't have the same father. Our mom gave birth to her when she was a teen, and me after she got married. My sister got pregnant young too, so I'm only four years older than Sharon." Phil nodded, starting to regain his composure. "Okay, that makes sense. I can see the resemblance. So, is it that you want to join our business?" "Money problems," replied Sharon. "That's the same reason most people have. Any issues with drugs?" "No... I haven't done drugs for years" answered Peggy, and Sharon nodded in agreement. "Alright, that's good. I assume you don't have any STDs?" They both shook their heads. "Well, we're going to test you anyway. For both. Just our policy, nothing against you. One more question," added Phil, and his smile slipped away, replaced with a look of compete seriousness. "Do the names Fisk or Kilgrave mean anything to you?" "Killgrave? I think I had their poster hanging up on my college dorm," joked Peggy. "But no, we don't know who they are," added Sharon. Phil relaxed, and beckoned them into the dark warehouse. "Good, good! We'll have a more formal interview later, of course, but that's enough for now. Come on in!" Peggy and Sharon didn't move. Phil looked confused for a second, before his eyes widened in realization. "Oh, I completely forgot!" He walked back into the warehouse, and two women watched from the doorway as he entered an eight digit code into a keypad next to a locked iron door. With a click, the door swung open, revealing a long and winding white stairway, with bright fluorescent lights illuminating them. "Don't stand out there in the cold! Are you coming or not?" Sharon took a deep breath, and headed down, with Peggy taking a deep breath before following. The stairs twisted and curved, until they had no clue if they were still under the warehouse, or even if they were on the same block. Eventually, they came to a stop in front of another door, though this one was clean and white. Phil punched in another series of number on the keypad next to it, and the door slid open. Behind it was a long white hall, with dozens of others branching off from the sides. All in all, Peggy had to guess the whole thing took up the entire street. "Welcome," declared Phil dramatically, arms raised, "to the Compound!" ***** Everybody's Looking For Something ***** Chapter Notes Title from "Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This" by the Eurythmics. As they walked through the halls of the Compound, Peggy couldn't help but be impressed. She knew it was a high-end place, but she didn't expect it to look like a space station set from some sci-fi show. Only with less robots, and more half-dressed women wandering the halls. They passed a pale brunette in dark blue lingerie, who grinned at them. "That's Maria," said Phil. "She's one of the most expensive of our escorts." "Speaking of that," asked Sharon, "how much can we expect this job to pay?" "It depends, really. When your first start out, you could make little more than minimum wage, or you could make thousand of dollars a day. Once you've been here as long as Maria, or Pepper, or Nat... How does two million a year sound?" Peggy whistled. Phil stopped at a door with the name Natasha written on the front. "It might be good if you talk with some of the escorts before making up your mind if you want to work here. And Nat's been here the longest out of pretty much anybody, since... wow, could it have been seven years now? I wonder if she's busy..." His question was soon answered when loud moans began to emanate from the room, and Peggy heard an impressive fakery of an orgasm. "Oh fuck. Oh god! Yeah, that's right, right there, right- Oh! Ohhhh fuck, fuuuck!" Peggy couldn't help but laugh, but when she turned to Sharon she saw the younger woman blushing and turning away. It was adorable, Peggy couldn't deny that, but at the same time she felt worried. Adventurous as she was, Peggy knew Sharon was still just a kid, and if someone pretending to come embarrassed her, she wasn't sure how she'd ever make it as a prostitute. "Okay, she's clearly busy," said Phil cheerfully as he began heading down the hall again. He led them to a door marked Wanda, and he had barely had time to knock before a young girl with long brown hair and absolutely no clothes on opened it. "Hi, Phil," said Wanda perkily (And that wasn't the only thing that was perky, Peggy noticed). "What's up?" Peggy turned to Sharon, expecting to see her averting her eyes, but instead her niece was staring at Wanda... one area in specific. She was chewing her lip too, something she always did when she was- Peggy looked away, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach, but no one else seems to notice. "Nothing much. Just showing the new recruits around." Wanda glanced past Peggy, but her eyes lit up when she saw Sharon, who was still staring unabashedly, seemingly unable to help herself. Wanda giggled, her breasts jiggling as she did, and Sharon looked like she was about to faint. "It's so nice to meet you! I'm Wanda. Are you two sisters? My brother Pietro and I signed up together too. It's a lot of fun-" "We're not sisters," interrupted Peggy. "She's my niece." Wanda's eyes opened wide. "Really? Wow! You don't look nearly old enough to be her aunt!" Peggy tried hard to take that as an insult, but she found she couldn't. It seemed Wanda was really a genuinely nice person, which made Peggy hate her even more. "Well, we should get going now," said Phil. "I want to get these two settled in soon. "And don't give me that look," he added when he saw Wanda's pout. "You'll be seeing a lot more of them." And as they walked away, Peggy heard something that made another surge of sudden anger swell up inside of her. "Oh, I'm sure I will." They walked in silence. Sharon kept glancing at Peggy and opening her mouth as if she was about to say something, before stopping suddenly. On a whim, Peggy reached out and pinched her ass, smiling slightly when she heard Sharon squeak. "What was that for?" asked Sharon with a grin. "Just reminding you who you belong too," whispered Peggy, as they reached the next door. The door opened, but only after Phil knocked a half-dozen times. In the doorframe stood the tallest woman Peggy had ever seen, with long red hair, a sprinkling of freckles, and nothing on her but a white corset and a tiny pair of panties. "What is it, Phil?" the woman demanded, clearly mad about being interrupted. "Don't be rude, Pepper!" shouted a voice from the room. Peggy peered in, and noticed for the first time the naked man tied to the bed with a pair of hand- cuffs. Pepper whirled around, brandishing the coiled black whip she held in her hand threateningly. "Tony, shut the fuck up!" The man looked familiar, though Peggy wasn't sure how. Tony grinned. "If Coulson wants to talk with me, tell him I'd love to, but I'm a bit tied up at the moment." "I swear to God, Tony!" she shouted, trying to contain a smile at the same time. She turned back to Peggy, suddenly grinning. Her eyes glanced over Peggy's body, halting for a bit at the place where most people did. But though Pepper was practically leering, Peggy didn't feel self-conscious like she normally did. Instead she felt almost prideful. I wonder how Sharon likes it when I'm the one who's the center of attention, she thought with a savage glee, before immediately feeling sick to her stomach. "Come on, Pepper! You just gonna leave me here?" Tony yelled. "If you don't be quiet," Pepper yelled back, "I swear on all that is holy I'll- " "You'll what? Whip me?" "That's it," muttered Pepper, slamming the door in Phill's face as she raised the whip. A second later, Tony half-moaned and half-screamed as the whip came cracking down. "Wait a second," began Sharon. "She called him Tony... I thought he looked familiar, but that wasn't- It couldn't have been-" "Well, that was fun," Phil interrupted brightly. "I figure that's enough touring for right now, at least. We'll have to discuss what you are and aren't okay with, and once everything's worked out you can find your rooms." He pointed one way down the long corridor. "Now, this wing is for the more standard escorts. We've got Nat, Wanda, Pepper, Maria, Jane, Hope, Skye, May, Helen, Betty, Christine, and Carol. "And down there," he continued, pointing in the opposite direction, "we have our women with the more specific skill sets. You know, all the kinkier stuff. Ayesha, Valkyrie, Sif, Mantis, Frigga, Karen, Tandy, and Gamora and her sister Nebula. There's also a wing for male escorts, but so far we only have Pietro and T'Challa, with a new guy planning to join as well. We don't currently have any spare rooms, so I'm thinking we'll have to find two rooms you can bunk in-" "Hang on," interrupted Sharon frowning. "What do you mean two rooms? I thought we'd be together." "Well, you will be the rest of the day when you aren't working. And besides, you typically have at most two or three clients a night. You'll have lots of free time, and you can always use it to hang out in the cafeteria or even in each other's living quarters. I just think it'd be good for the two of you to get experience spending time with the other girls. Trust me, it'll be fine." Sharon looked at Peggy, unsure. "What do you think, Peg? You okay with us being apart?" "Of course I am," lied Peggy. "It's really not a big deal." "Okay then," Sharon said, turning back to Phil. "So, we just get all the paperwork done or whatever, and we're set? That's it?" "That's it," confirmed Phil. "I'll have to make sure it's okay with them, but I'm thinking... Peggy, you can room with Natasha, and Sharon, you'll stay with Wanda. She'll definitely be happy with that." He kept talking after that, but Peggy didn't hear a word out of his mouth. She only heard one thing, one sentence echoing in her memory that made her feel like her whole world was going to come crashing down. "Oh, I'm sure I will." ***** I've Got The Cure You're Thinking Of ***** Chapter Notes Title from "Calling Dr. Love" by Kiss. After the excitement of the tour, the next half an hour seemed to crawl by. Peggy and Sharon sat with Coulson in his office, which was sparsely decorated except for a mini American Flag on the desk, and a signed autograph from some baseball player on the wall. "Pretty cool, huh?" said Phil when he saw Sharon looking at it, mistaking her curiosity for interest. She nodded, as he pulled out a pile of laminated papers. Peggy took them, and began reading. "These are the rules and regulations. You're required to read over them before becoming an official escort of The Compound. Basically, the gist is that you can choose what you want to and don't want to do. If there's something your dead set against, you can tell us now, but if a client offers you extra, you can always change your mind. We have multiple cameras in every room, with trusted employees watching whenever you have a client in, and if they're doing something you aren't comfortable with you just have to say "Red," or if you aren't able to speak you can tap out a code on the bed or desktop. Three times fast, two times slow, the one time as hard as you can." He tapped out the signal on his desk. "If they don't stop immediately, we'll send Steve, Grant, or Thor in. They're the security." Sharon couldn't help but laugh. "His name is Thor?" "Thorlief. It's Norwegian. Thor's maybe the biggest guy I've ever seen, and if there's trouble, he can help. All the security work for Happy Hogan, a good friend of mine. Trust me, you don't need to be worried about anything you're uncomfortable with happening." Sharon nodded, relieved. "The whole reason the Compound was started was to provide paid sexual services in as safe and positive of an environment as possible. Before we started up, the only brothels close to as exclusive as this were the Sin Bin, in the Bronx, and Hell's Kitchen, in well, Hell's Kitchen. But trust me, neither gives nearly as much thought to the safety and wellbeing of their escorts as we do. When I first took the job, Mr. Fury told me- You know Mr. Fury, right?" "Yeah, Darren Cross told me about him. Said they used to go golfing." Phil laughed. "Well, I know Darren, and he's never so much as talked to Fury. But I can see why he'd want to pretend to have. I've met some pretty intense people in my life, but Fury... I guess the best way to describe it is that he's larger than life. Like there's something mythic about him. He spends almost all his time here, but no one ever sees him. They don't need to, though, just knowing he's here is enough. To his friends, he's a savior. To his enemies, he's the closest thing to the Grim Reaper. Luckily for you, anyone who works for him is a friend, and anyone who hurts one of his friends is an enemy." "You're making him seem like a superhero or something," said Peggy as she flipped through the papers. Phil smiled. "Yeah, I guess I do. Well, that wouldn't be too far off, to be honest. The point is, no ones going to hurt while he's here to protect you." Peggy finished reading, handed the papers to Sharon. "So, we don't have to do anything we don't want to. What else do we need to know?" "Um, let's see. The Compound is open all day, but you're allowed to come in whenever you want. All your money comes from the clients, so we don't really care how much work you do, as long as you bring in money. Any client has to pay us a flat fee for admission, and we get 2% of whatever they end up giving you, but besides that all the money goes to you. Once we see how, shall we say, talented you are, we assign a basic price, though clients typically tip, and very often they offer you more money in order to convince you to do something that you're unsure about. All in all, it's a good system for everyone. You get money, we get money, and the clients get what they want. There's almost never any problems, and when they are they're quickly dealt with. I suggest you stay the night, meet your new roommates, maybe take a client to see what it's like. If it isn't your cup of tea, you can always just not come back. "Well, it sounds like a good deal," said Sharon, turning to Peggy for confirmation. Peggy was sitting quietly, staring ahead at nothing in particular. "You okay, Peg?" asked Sharon, a bit worried. Peggy looked up, startled. "Huh? Um, yeah, I'm fine. I was just... do you think we could talk?" Sharon nodded, but Peggy didn't continue, instead turning to Coulson, who was watching intently. "Alone?" she said pointedly. It took him a second to realize what she was getting at, but when he did he got up and left the office, leaving them alone. "What's the matter?" Sharon asked, and Peggy shook her head. "Nothing. I don't know. I just... I've only been with one person besides you, Sharon, and it was a decade ago. What we have is special, and it's important me. I don't know if I want to- to ruin it." Sharon didn't respond, and so Peggy continued. "I love you, Sharon. I've loved you half my life. And I don't know if I can share you with someone else." "That's what your worried about?" said Sharon softly. "I'm yours, Peggy. I'll always be yours. You think fucking some rich asshole is going to change that? It won't mean anything to me." She reaches out, squeezes Peggy's hand. "Do you really think our relationship is weak enough that this could end it? I'm not some stupid little girl. I know what I want, and I want you." Peggy smiles a little, tears in her eyes, as Sharon keeps going. "If you don't want to share me, you don't have to. Trust me, I'm not crazy about this whole thing either. But we need money, and it's going to be hard to get jobs when I have nothing past a high school education. This is our best option, but if you don't like it, then we'll find something else. We'll be okay." Peggy thought for a long time, before responding. "I need to know that you won't leave me. That you won't get bored of me." "I won't," promised Sharon. "Never." "Prove it. Prove that your mine." When Phil got back in the office, Sharon and Peggy were sitting silently, looking ahead. He took a few steps in, stopped, and looked down at them suspiciously. Peggy's hair was oddly messy, and Sharon's face was flushed. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but what exactly have you been doing in my office?" Sharon looked down, embarrassed, and Peggy laughed. "She convinced me. That's all. We'll be starting tonight." Phil smiled. "Wonderful! I don't think you'll regret this!" And Sharon didn't either. ***** All A Boy Can Give You ***** Chapter Notes Title from "Tainted Love" by Soft Cell. When they were done in Coulson's office, he called in one of the security guards to show them to their rooms. "This is Steve," Phil said, and the tall blonde man in the doorway waved, smiling. "You can trust him to look out for you. He's a good guy." "Well, I try my best," said Steve. He locked eyes with Sharon for a second, and she looked away, blushing. What's wrong with me today? she wondered, feeling like a schoolgirl again, and at her side Peggy smiled, seemingly not noticing. "Hello, Steve. It's good to meet you," she said. "Likewise, ma'am." Peggy smiled. "'Ma'am.' I like him already." Steve grew red. "Follow me," he said, and he led them back past Pepper's room, where they heard a series of painful-sounding whip cracks, followed each time by a moan. "Hey, Steve," said Sharon suddenly. "If you don't mind me asking, that isn't Tony Stark in there, is it?" "I'm sorry, Ms. Carter, but that would be a breach of the very strict client- confidentiality rules here at the Compound. I can neither confirm nor deny that." "How do you like that, Stark?" shouted Pepper from behind the closed door. "Imagine the whole world knowing that Tony Stark is my bitch!" Peggy laughed triumphantly, and Sharon grinned. Steve stopped at Wanda's door, and knocked. Sharon was infinitely grateful that the girl wasn't naked again, though her lacy scarlet bra and matching panties weren't that much of an improvement. "Sharon is going to be staying with you, until we find better living arrangements, at least. If your okay with that, of course,"he added hastily. Wanda laughed. "Of course I am, silly! I'd love to stay with her!" She walked back into her room, and Sharon followed, unable to tear her eyes from that curvy little ass. Inside the room, Wanda had a king-sized bed, a series of drawers, and a closet stuffed with a series of outfits and costumes, each more revealing than the last. "I'll sleep on the floor, if you want, and you can take the bed," she said happily. "Unless, of course, you want to share the bed." "Um..." Sharon's mouth felt dry, aware that Peggy was starting at her, waiting for her answer. "I could take the floor." "Oh, no, I insist! I'm fine sleeping on the floor." "Okay, uh, thank you." "Let's let her get settled in," said Steve to Peggy. "You can visit her later tonight." He led her away, and Sharon turned to Wanda, who was looking her up and down. "Hmmm... no, that just won't do." "Huh?" "You're outfit, silly!" laughed Wanda. "Comfy and fashionable, but not nearly slutty enough. You should be wearing something like this." She twirled, showing off her tight bra and thin panties. "Oh, I know!" Wanda leapt to the closet, pulling out outfit after outfit. "How about this?" she asked, holding up a tight white spandex bodysuit. "Yeah, I don't know if that's exactly the look I'm going for..." "Then what about this one? I wore this for my very first client." She took out a red corset, with a ridiculous little cape coming out the back. "Uh, I'm sure he enjoyed it, but I don't know..." "Alright, this is the one!" Wanda took out a set of white lingerie. Sharon took it, thinking. "Hmmm..." She imagined surprising Peggy with it... the look on her aunt's face when she saw. Sharon grinned at the thought. "Okay. I'll try it on." "Great!" said Wanda, sitting down on the bed. "Is there a bathroom around here, or-" "Why don't you just change here? It's just us girls. Besides, we're prostitutes, and we're sharing a room. It's not like we're never going to see each other naked." "Yeah... I guess." She laid the outfit down on the bed, and took off her jacket, hesitating for a second before pulling her white tank top over her head. Sharon was glad she had gone braless; it would at least quicken the whole ordeal. Wanda smiled widely, and Sharon was uncomfortably aware that her nipples were hard. She tried to tell herself that it was just because of the cold, but she wasn't sure. Next, she bent down, unbuckled her jeans, and pulled them and her underwear down in one move. Wanda leaned forward, a hungry look in her eyes, as Sharon finally strapped on her new lacy bra, followed by pulling on her uncomfortably translucent panties. "Well," she said nervously, turning to Wanda. "How do I look?" But Wanda just stared, eyes wide. There came a sudden knock on the door, and Sharon opened it to find Steve and a young African-American man waiting. "Oh, that's good, you're already dressed. This is Sam," Steve said, motioning to the other man. Sam waved, clearly nervous. "This is his first time, same as yours, so Coulson recommend you. You fine with that?" Sharon looked at Sam. He seemed young, athletic, healthy. She had expected her clients to be like Darren, creepy rich guys who needed to pay for sex. This was a surprise, though a welcome one. Wanda walked out the door, smiling back at Sharon. "I'll leave you two with some privacy. Good luck!" Then she was gone, and Steve too, and Sharon and Sam were alone. "So this is your first day on the job?" he asked. "Yeah." He grinned. "And I'm guessing your as nervous as I am?" "Yeah." Sam laughed. He had a nice laugh, Sharon thought. "Then it looks like neither of us has any idea what to do next." "I think..." began Sharon hesitantly. "I think you should kiss me." Sam grew serious. He put a hand on the small of her back, pulled her close, and leaned in. He tasted good. Different from Peggy, but still good. It occurred to Sharon that this was her first time kissing a boy. She'd only ever been with Peggy, sexually or even just romantically. She closed her eyes as the kiss grew deeper, more intense. Sam's hand slowly moved down her back, coming to a stop on her ass. With his other hand, he reached up and cupped her breasts. Suddenly, he raised the hand on her butt and brought it down hard. "Oh!" Sharon jolted, breaking off the kiss, and Sam's face fell. "Oh man... I'm sorry, I just- I just got carried away. I-" Sharon reached forward and wrapped her hand around his stiffening cock, feeing it through the fabric of his jeans. He stopped, staring at her uncertainly as she unzipped his pants and tugged down his boxers. His dick stood at attention, hard and firm. "Don't be sorry," she whispered, as she reached her free hand behind her and unhooked her bra. It fell down to the ground, and Sam stared with wide eyes. "I want you to take me," Sharon told him, and she meant it. He grabbed her shoulders, and shoved her forward roughly, so she was bending over on the bed. Sam pulled down on her panties and squeezed her bare ass, jiggling the soft flesh back and forth. He took a condom from the top of the dresser and pulled it on, before squirting lube onto his hand and coating his cock in it. "Come on..." whined Sharon, impatient. She ached for him, she needed him... And he gave her what she needed. It was painful at first, as he pushed himself into her, and for a second she wanted to call the whole thing off. But then her pain started to ebb, and in its place was pleasure. "Faster," she moaned, as he thrusted, slowly at first. "Come on, faster!" She pushed herself backwards, ramming his dick deeper into her, and she moved back and forth, loving the feeling, loving the pain. Sam was gasping and grunting, his hands on her shoulders as he sped up his pace. She had been fucked before, by dildos and strap-ons, but this was different. He was different. When he finally came, after what felt like an hour, his hands clenched down on her shoulders, leaving red hand-prints. Sam stumbled back, panting, and Sharon turned over on the bed, smiling up at him. He laughed shakily. "That was... that was really something, huh?" "Yeah. It was really something." Sam was too tired to go again, and instead they sat together on the bed. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?" she asked. "You just did." She laughed. "You know what I meant." "Alright. Shoot." "Why did you have to pay what I'm guessing was huge amount of money just to have sex with me?" "Don't sell yourself short," he chuckled. "But seriously, though. Girls must be lining up to date you." "It's not that they aren't. It's just-" He grew serious. "When I'm with them, I feel like I can't be myself. Like I don't want to scare them away. With you, I felt more comfortable. Does that make any sense?" "Yeah. It does." "I guess I just wanted to see what it'd be like to go all-out. To do what I want to do. I've never really done that before, which I'm fine with, but I kind of had to know what it'd be like if things were different. You know I mean?" "Yeah. I think I do." He leaned over and kissed her again. "This was great, Sharon. Thank you." He pulled on his clothes, and started to walk towards the door. As he opened it, she called out, unable to help herself. "Will I see you again?" He turned back, looking at her, before chuckling. "You know what? For some reason, I think you will." He left then, and she laid there happily in bed, smiling to herself. It was only later that night, when she was lying in bed with Wanda snoozing on the floor, that she began to feel sick. ***** Not My Lover ***** Chapter Notes Title from "Billie Jean" by Michae Jackson. As Steve escorted Peggy to her room, she couldn't help but feel worried. Sharon had said that she was still hers, and Peggy could tell she wasn't lying, but still... She's only ever been with me, though Peggy. What if she only thinks she loves me? What if she realizes that she deserves better? She shook her head, trying to ignore that kind of thought, but she couldn't. "I think you're going to like it here," said Steve, apparently sensing her discomfort. "Most of the girls do." "I hope so. So, Phil said I was rooming with that girl Natasha. What's she like?" "She's, ah..." Steve was clearly at a lost for words. "She's certainly something. You'll see." They had reached Natasha's room. Steve knocked, and after a moment, Natasha opened the door. Compared to Wanda and Pepper, she was dressed surprisingly professionally, with black sweatpants and a dark tank top, though it was clear that she wasn't wearing a bra. Natasha turned to Peggy, looking her over. Once again, Peggy felt a twinge of pride at the way Natasha lingered around her breasts, and at the way the escort's mouth curled upwards into a smile as she did. "Who is this?" she asked, in a deep, throaty voice with the slightest twinge of a Russian accent. "Natasha, meet Peggy Carter. Peggy Carter, meet Natasha." "How much is she paying?" Steve laughed. "She's not a client, Nat. She's our newest employee. Coulson decided that she's going to stay with you, so you can show her the ropes." Natasha smirked. "This girl wants to be a whore? But she looks so... prissy." "Hey!" shouted Peggy, offended. "I'll have you know I can be very whorish when I want too." "I'd be very interested in seeing that," Natasha said matter-of-factly, and Peggy blushed. "I didn't mean- Not like- I have a girlfriend." "In this business? Well, let's see how long that lasts." "I'm going to leave you two to get acquainted," said Steve, who obviously didn't want to be part of the conversation anymore. "I'll be sure to stop by later, Peggy, see how you're going." He left, and Peggy followed Natasha in. When they were inside, Natasha turned and locked the door, then rounded on Peggy, who had taken a seat on the bed. "Why are you here?" "Uh, because Phil told me I had to be your roommate-" "Not here in my room, here in the Compound. Why do you want to be one of us?" "I don't want to," said Peggy, annoyed. "I have to. I got fired from my job, and I need money. This seemed like a good place." "Is that so?" Natasha snorted. "We'll see how long you last." Peggy opened her mouth, about to offer up some clever retort that she hadn't thought of yet, but she was interrupted by Natasha lunging forward and grabbing her. For a second, she thought she was under attack, until Natasha shoved her tongue into her mouth, her hands grabbing Peggy's ass and squeezing firmly. "Mmmm," she muttered as she broke off the kiss. "Not bad." Peggy looked up at her, flustered, before getting ahold of herself and shaking out of Natasha's grip. "What the fuck are you doing!?" she roared. "I told you, I have a girlfriend!" "Yeah? So what?" "Just shut up!" shouted Peggy. "I knew this was going to happen! It's not bad enough that that little witch is trying to seduce Sharon, now I have fucking Natasha Fatale groping me-" "Sharon? Is she your girlfriend?" "Yes!" Peggy was getting frustrated. "And the little witch? You mean Wanda?" Peggy nodded. "Yeah. How'd you know?" "Well, Wanda is always trying to seduce people. I remember her first few days here, when she heard that I was the most popular whore, and got the stupid idea in her head to try and prove that she was better. I heard her bragging that by the end of the month I'd be her willing slave." "What happened?" asked Peggy, curious in spite of herself. "Well, she came into my room one night, acting all tough and sexy. By the end of the hour, I had her begging so loud the whole building could here it. 'Oh, Mistress Natasha, please, let me cum, please!' When I was done with her, she couldn't walk straight for a week, and she still looks away when I pass her in the halls." Peggy laughed. "Serves her right." It was mean, she knew, but it felt good not to just keep her feelings to herself. "Don't worry about Sharon," said Natasha seriously. "She would have to be brain dead to choose that tramp over you." Peggy blushed, smiling a little. "Thanks." "There's no need to thank me. It's a fact. Wanda is younger than you, and less abrasive, but you have much better breasts, and a far superior behind." "Is that why you kissed me?" Peggy joked, a bit uncomfortable. "You couldn't help yourself?" "No. I kissed you because I try to sleep with every new recruit. It lets them know that it'd be foolish to imaging they could surpass me." "So you're that good?" asked Peggy, and Natasha leaned in close, lips inches from Peggy's. "Why don't you find out?" Peggy jerked her head back, jumping up and backing away. "I'm serious. You're a very attractive woman, Natasha, but I'm with Sharon, and I love her very much." "I'm sure you do," said Natasha. "And I'm sure she loves you too. All I'm saying is that this isn't exactly the kind of place that encourages love." Before Peggy could respond, the door opened. A muscular man with shoulder length yellow hair opened the door. "Hi, Thor," said Natasha flirtatiously, and Thor nodded in her direction, before turning to Peggy. "Ms. Carter. We have a client who is interested in you. Unless you want some more time to settle in, Coulson thinks you should offer your services." "Uh..." Peggy turned to Natasha, who nodded encouragingly. "Yeah. Sure." Thor moved out of the way, letting the client in. He seemed to be in shape, and though he had some gray in his hair he still looked to be on the younger side. "This is Stephen. He's only started coming here recently, but he's trustworthy. Remember," said Thor. "You can back out whenever you want." Natasha turned to go, but Stephen stopped her. "Not so fast. I'm paying for both of you," he said. Natasha turned to Peggy, smiling a little. Thor left, closing the door behind him, and the client looked at them, rubbing his chin. "Hmmm... how should we begin?" He turned to Peggy, reached out, and softly caressed her breast. Peggy felt her nipple begin to harden, and Stephen snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her close. His groin rubbed up against hers, and she could feel its hardness. "Perhaps you should bend her over and-" began Natasha, but Stephen shook his head vehemently. "No. No, don't talk. And don't tell me what to do. Sorry, but I'm a bit of a control freak." He moved away from Sharon, pacing the room. "Okay. Let's see. How about-" He snapped his fingers. "I've got it. I want you two lovely ladies to undress yourselves- No, no, wait. I want you to undress each other." Natasha smiled, sauntered over to Peggy silently. She reached behind Peggy, taking the little zipper in the back and pulling it down. Peggy stood there awkwardly, as her dress fell down, revealing her naked body. Stephen licked his lips. "Okay, good, great. Now, uh, Peggy? Undress Natasha." Peggy took a deep breath, then grabbed the bottom of Natasha's tank top and slowly took it off. Natasha's breasts were full and firm, with little pink nipples that looked almost like candy. Peggy forced herself to look away, then tugged down Natasha's sweatpants, pulling them all the way to the floor. She looked up, and realized that she was now kneeling on the floor with her mouth perfectly lined up with the redhead's sex. "Great," said Stephen, pulling out his cock. "Now kiss each other." Natasha knelt down, facing Peggy. She leaned in and kissed her, but not like she did before. It was slow and sensual, instead of rough or forceful. Natasha placed a hand on Peggy's breast, almost kneading it, before pinching a nipple and twisting it hard. Peggy gasped into Natasha's mouth, as above them Steven continued to masturbate, his breathing becoming labored. "Good. I like that, you being quiet, but I want to try something new. Natasha, make Peggy scream as loudly as you can." Natasha smiled widely, then suddenly moved back and pushed Peggy over. She lay on the ground, and Natasha crawled over her, until they were face to face. She bent down, like she was going to kiss her, but instead she dove down and took one of Peggy's erect nipples in her breast, sucking on it. Peggy moaned, as Natasha suckled loudly. With one hand, she played with the other breast, pinching the soft and supple flesh, before moving it down Peggy's body slowly, stroking her flesh, and reaching her dripping cunt. She slid one finger in, just one, and Peggy broke. "Fuck me!" she demanded, as she bucked up against Natasha's finger. "Oh god, fuck me!" Natasha looked up at her with those big brown eyes, then bit down hard on the quivering flesh of Peggy's tit. And Peggy screamed. "Oh! Ohhhh god!" Above them, Stephen shivered as he came. The thick white liquid splattered all over them, coating Natasha's back and Peggy's face and breasts. Peggy had to hold back a gag, but Natasha opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, and when Stephen was down Natasha looked down at Peggy's face, smiled, and licked it slowly, cleaning it. Stephen was pulling up his pants, still breathing raggedly. "You sure you don't want anything else?" asked Natasha, but their client shook his head. "Sorry, but I really should be going. I have a medical conference in Washington tomorrow, and I just wanted to let off some steam." "Well, if you ever want to let of some steam again, we'd be happy to help." Stephen nodded, smiling, as he turned and left. Natasha stood up, stretched her legs, as Peggy slowly sat up, Stephen's juices dripping down her body and mixing with her own. "That was alright, Peggy. For your first time, at least." She walked to a door in the back of the room, leading to the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower. Would you like to join me, finish what we started?" Peggy looked up at Natasha, quiet. The redhead stood in the doorway, turning towards Peggy in such a way that both her breasts and ass were visible. Sharon was hardly lacking in that department, but Natasha was something else. Peggy imagined that plump, juicy ass on her face, smothering in its jiggling flesh. She imagined one of those delicious looking tits in her mouth, and she imagined biting it just as hard as Natasha bit hers. Peggy wanted Natasha to do to her what she did to Wanda, fucking her until she was a willing slave. Peggy wanted those nimble, talented fingers to take her to completion. She had gotten a taste, and she needed more. "No," she said softly, and Natasha frowned. "Disappointing, but understandable. One day you'll change your tune, though, and when that day comes I'll be waiting." Natasha closed the bathroom door, and Peggy cleaned herself off with a towel from the dresser, before wrapping herself in a violet robe and lying in bed. I did the right thing, she told herself, but it didn't reassure her. Sooner or later, she was going to break. It was just a matter of when. She thought for a moment, then made up her mind. Peggy got out of bed, starting to smile, as she pulled off her robe. ***** The World Goes Round ***** Chapter Notes Title from "Because" by the Beatles. That night, Sharon had an odd dream. She and Peggy were dancing in a massive ballroom, empty except for them. She was wearing a white gown, and Peggy was wearing a black one. Purple light shined in from the windows, giving the entire room a violet tint to it. Peggy smiled, closed her eyes, leaned in to kiss Sharon. But when their mouths touched, Sharon tasted only ash. The door to the ballroom was pounding, like someone or something was trying to get in. KNOCK "What was that?" asked Sharon, worried, but Peggy shook her head. KNOCK "Don't worry about it, sweetie. We both knew it was coming." KNOCK Peggy reached down, pinched Sharon's ass through the dress. She dug her fingernails into it, and Sharon tried to pry her hands away, but to no avail. "That hurts..." whined Sharon, but Peggy merely kissed her again. This time, she tasted blood. KNOCK "I'm coming!" shouted Wanda, as she jumped up from her place in the floor, naked but for a pair of sweatpants. Sharon's eyes flickered open, as she drowsily turned to see the brunette opening the door to their room. A stranger walked into the room, one with pure white hair. "Pietro!" said Wanda happily, hugging him. Pietro turned to Sharon, regarding her coldly. "Who is this?" he asked, and Wanda turned to Sharon. "That's Sharon, my new roommate. Sorry for waking you up, Sharon!" "It's fine," she sighed, and Wanda turned back to Pietro. "What's going on?" "I missed you," Pietro said to his twin. "I want to make love to you." "Sounds great," said Wanda, grinning. She looked at Sharon. "Bye bye! See you tomorrow!" Sharon waved, as Wanda skipped off, Pietro close behind. When they were gone, Sharon wanted to go back to bed, but she remembered her dream and decided she'd rather not. Instead, she pulled off her blanket, looked down at herself. She was soaked in sweat, her tank top clinging to her, and from the stain on the front of her pants she could tell sweat wasn't the only thing she was soaked with. "What is wrong with me?" she muttered, but even as she did she began to absentmindedly rub the wet spot, feeling a twinge of pleasure as she did. She laid back in bed, one hand slipping into her panties, the other massaging a breast, playing with the nipple. Sharon closed her eyes, beginning to breath raggedly. "Oh fuck..." She imagined a faceless being standing over her, shifting like it was made of smoke, first looking like Sam, then Wanda, then Peggy. She was getting close, she could feel it. Just a little more... Seconds before she was about to climax, someone grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand away from her dripping sex. Sharon's eyes flew open, enraged, only to see Peggy standing over her, wearing a tight black bodysuit that showed off every curve. "Peggy," she gasped, surprised, and Peggy looked down at her with a combination of desire and disappointment. "Sharon. Why don't you take off your clothes?" Sharon hesitated, then nodded. She reached down and pulled up her tank top, before pulling down her pants and panties. Peggy smiled, and put a hand on Sharon's face. "Good girl. Now tell me what you want." "I want-" Sharon's mouth felt dry. "I want to come." "Mhmm. And who do you want to make you come?" Sharon answered without hesitating, completely honestly. "You." Peggy sat down on the bed, patting the space next to her, and Sharon rushed to sit down at her side. "Well, I'm not sure if you deserve to come. I think you've been very naughty recently, sweetie." Sharon didn't know if she could handle this for much longer. Instead of going away when she was interrupted, her arousal was building and building. "Please. I'm sorry, Aunt Peggy. I'm sorry for being naughty." "Are you? I saw the way you looked at that little whore Wanda. You wanted her to fuck you, didn't you?" "No," protested Sharon. "No, I didn't." Peggy laughed coldly. "You're lying. Tell the truth, or I'll never let you come." Sharon felt like crying. She didn't know what to do, what to say. "I'm not lying. Please, Peggy-" Peggy slapped Sharon across the face, hard. She felt tears well up in her eyes, and her lip started to quiver. Peggy grabbed her by the hair, pulled her head back. With her free hand, she roughly pawed at Sharon's heaving breasts, pinching and twisting the nipples. "Tell the truth," she whispered in Sharon's ear, and Sharon felt a shiver of sudden arousal. "Yes," she moaned. "Yes, I wanted Wanda to fuck me. I wanted her fingers and her mouth and her tongue, I wanted her to make me hers-" "But you're already mine. You know that, don't you? You'll always know that." "Of course. I'm yours. Only yours." "Then I don't need to be jealous of Wanda, do I? Or of your clients, or anyone. You belong to me, all of you, your pretty little pussy and your nice firm tits and your plump, juicy ass." "Yes, Aunt Peggy. I belong to you. Everything I am is yours." "Good. So you can ogle that slut as much as you want, and you can enjoy the way she looks at you, and you can touch yourself while thinking of her sweet little body, because it doesn't matter. She may look at your body, but you'll only ever let me touch it. And you may look at hers, but mine is the only one you'll truly take pleasure in. The clients will come and go, but I'll always be your aunt. Got it?" "Yes," cried out Sharon. "Now please, Aunty, make me come!" Peggy pretended to think it over. "Hmmm. Alright then, fine. But only because you asked so nicely." She reached behind her, pulled out something long and black and shiny. And before Sharon could even tell what it was, Peggy rammed it deep into her cunt. Sharon groaned, as Peggy nipped at her neck playfully, and her groans turned to screams when, with the flick of a switch, Peggy turned the vibrator on. "Like that?" Peggy laughed, as Sharon began to shake, mouth open wide, eyes rolling back. "I borrowed it from Natasha. Think of it as an early Christmas gift." Sharon tried to speak, tried to think, but the waves of pleasure were consuming her, blocking out everything else. She felt like she was the toy, and all Peggy had to do was flip a switch to turn her on. "You look so sweet like that," said Peggy, while drool dropped from Sharon's mouth as she felt the last remnants of her self-control slipping away. "My little girl. My little slut." Peggy's nipples were hard as diamond underneath her jumpsuit, Sharon could see. Without thinking, she reached out and squeezed one between her fingertips. "Ooh," cooed Peggy. "Just like that." The haze in Sharon's head was growing thicker. All she could think of was her orgasm, so close but still unattainable. And the goddess in front of her, the angel in black. Her lover, her protector, her... She whispered something, and Peggy looked at her sharply, like she didn't hear her. "What did you say?" "Mommy," Sharon muttered again, the walls of her pussy clenching down on the vibrator. Peggy snarled, like a wild animal. "Say it again and I'll let you come," she said, her free hand underneath the tight latex of her suit. "Mommy!" Sharon screamed, and Peggy thrusted the vibrator deep, deeper than Sharon thought was possible. She screamed, the force of her orgasm tearing through her body, hurting so sweetly. Peggy gave a little gasp, as her well-practiced composure broke. There were tears in her eyes, and her cheeks were bright red. Sharon feel back and lay in a puddle of her own juices, trembling. Above her, Peggy panted, fingers emerging from her panties coated in come. "You're mummy's good girl," said Peggy, as she gave Sharon a kiss on the forehead. Sharon smiled happily, feeling like a little girl again, with someone else to look after her and take care of her. Peggy laid down next to Sharon, who rested her head on her lover's soft, pillowy breasts. They lay there in the darkness for what felt like hours, before Peggy finally spoke. "I'm sorry, Sharon. I went too far back there, didn't I?" "No, Peggy", said Sharon, still overcome with bliss. "It was wonderful. You know how much I love it when you act all possessive." In the dark, Sharon could barely see Peggy, but she knew her aunt was grinning. "In the morning, we should go back to the apartment," said Peggy eventually. "For good?" Peggy was silent for a moment. "No. I don't think so." Sharon lifted her head up, looked Peggy in the eyes. "You sure?" "Yeah. I think I am." "You're not worried that I'm going to cheat on you?" "Of course not," laughed Peggy. "Sure, you might catch yourself staring at Wanda, and you get fucked by a client and find yourself enjoying it. But as long as you know you're mine, it's fine. You're mine, and I'm yours. And we might get tempted by someone else, but if we do, all we have to do is think back to this night, and remember that no one can ever make us happier than each other." "Still. It's a risk just being here, surrounded by potential threats. Is it worth it?" Peggy smiled, as she took a slip of paper from the desktop. "I ran into Phil in the halls, and he handed me this. It's the pay for today." Sharon stared at it, open mouthed. "Holy shit... All that, just for the two of us?" "Just for the one of us," corrected Peggy. "This is only my pay. Here's yours." She handed Sharon a second check, and Sharon's jaw dropped open. "We should stay here, Sharon. It pays well, really well, and there's no relationship problems a good hard fuck can't fix." "I think you're right," said Sharon slowly, before grinning wickedly. "But you might need to convince me." Peggy laughed, placing a hand on Sharon's backside, pinching it just hard enough to make the younger girl let out a little whine. Then, without warning, she pushed Sharon onto her back, dropping down to between her legs. "I love you, Sharon," she said, before diving in, and Sharon responded in a shaky voice. "Ooh. I- I love you too, Peggy." ***** Like The Prodigal Son ***** Chapter Notes Title from "Left Hand Free" by Alt-J. Peter Parker was bored out of his mind. He sat through school, taking notes and taking tests, ignoring the insults from Flash. Ogling Liz and debating with Ned on whether Superman could beat Batman used to be his only ways to pass the time, but in even those he had lost interest. But when the school bell rang, Peter smiled wide and sprinted out of the school as fast as he could. He reached Austin Street, and looked left. His apartment was in that direction, and his Aunt May. But instead, he turned right. He was only halfway down the street when he heard a familiar voice calling his name. "Hey! Peter!" Filled with dread, Peter turned to see his Aunt May waving at him from the other side of the street. She was wearing a yellow tank top and jeans that Peter couldn't believe a fifty-year old woman was able to pull of. "Hi, Aunt May!" he yelled nervously, heading to meet her. "What are you doing here?" "I was trying to surprise you," she said happily. "Want to go out and get some sundaes from Gill's?" "Oh, uh, no thanks," said Peter, and May's face fell. "Um... okay. Where are you heading off to?" "Yeah, I'm..." Peter's mind raced. "I'm going to Ned's. Sorry, I guess I forgot to tell you." "Oh, it's no problem! But, uh-" She pointed in the opposite direction, where Ned was biking off. "Isn't that Ned there?" "Yep," said Peter. His Aunt looked at him, waiting for a response, but he just smiled. "Well, bye, May!" he shouted as he ran off. "B-Bye!" she called out, confused. He waved, looking over his shoulder, then turned a corner and was gone. May waited until he was out of sight, then looked in both directions, and walked off into the alleyway, making sure no one saw. Peter raced through the streets, barely avoiding running into startled pedestrians, until he reached a street sign with "Kirby Street" written on it. He scanned for #1963, and when he found it, he ran up to the door, clicking the secret button like Mr. Coulson taught him to the previous night. The door opened, but it wasn't Coulson standing there. Instead, it was a young man with black hair and dark eyes. "Peter, right?" he asked, and Peter nodded. "I'm Ward. Follow me." Ward led Peter into the warehouse, through the secret door, down the winding staircases, and into the Compound itself. "Coulson gave you the tour last time, right?" Ward asked. "Yeah. He said that I'm all set to start." "You are you want to? When I was your age, woman paying to have sex with me was basically my dream too, but-" "That's not why I'm doing this," said Peter. "My uncle passed away a few months ago, and now it's just my aunt and me. I need money." "Huh. Whatever happened to the days when, if a kid wanted some extra cash, they just mowed a few lawns or started up a lemonade stand?" Ward smiled. Peter didn't. "This is your room," said Ward suddenly, stopping in front of a door with "Pietro" written on it. "Coulson told me that a client has shown interest in you, and they'll be stopping by shortly. Until then, you can just relax." Peter walked into the room nervously, and the first thing that caught his eye was the completely naked woman lying on the bed. She looked up at him, breasts jiggling as she moved, and grinned. "Hey, there! Are you a client?" At her side, a white-haired man stirred, also nude. "No, Wanda. He is the one I was telling you about. My new roommate." "Him? But he's only... how old are you?" "I'm uh, sixteen," replied Peter. "Almost seventeen." "Sixteen? Isn't that, like, super illegal?" "Well, so is prostitution, right?" Wanda laughed. "What's your name, kid?" "Peter. Peter Parker." "What do you say, Peter Parker?," said Wanda with a raised eyebrow and a little grin. "Wanna have sex?" Peter looked at her to see if she was joking, than at Pietro. Both stared at him expectantly. "Uhhh... no thanks?" "Are you sure?" asked Pietro seriously. "My sister is a very beautiful woman." "She is, yeah, but Mr. Coulson told me I could get a big tip if I lose my virginity to a client, and I have one coming in a bit. Maybe later?" Peter hoped this would appease them, choosing not to comment on the fact that the two entwined lovers were apparently brother and sister. Pietro shrugged, and Wanda giggled. "Your loss," she said, as she got up and stretched, her firm little breasts bouncing as she did. Peter looked up at the ceiling, feeling very awkward, and Wanda and Pietro walked to the door. "Have fun!" laughed Wanda, as she shut the door, leaving Peter alone. He looked down at his rapidly stiffening cock, and groaned. "Come on..." He reached a hand into his underwear, grabbing his half-hard dick, stroking it faster and faster. Images floated through his mind, of Liz Allan wearing her cheerleading outfit, on her knees in front of him, of this girl Wanda, moaning as she rode him, and of another woman, jerking him off as she whispered in his ear, a fantasy that made Peter feel as guilty as he did aroused. "Oh fuck..." Peter was so distracted he didn't even realize that someone else had entered the room until they spoke. "Well, don't stop on my account." His eyes flew open, as in front of him stood his first client. To his surprise, the client wasn't an old rich woman, or an old rich man, for that matter. She was young, pretty, and curvy. Very, very curvy. "Uh, hi. I'm Peter." "Nice to meet you, Peter," she said, smiling. "I'm Darcy. I've heard good things about you." "Um, how? This is my first day." "Coulson told me that you showed lots of promise from your interview. Said you were... how did he put it? 'Delightfully awkward.' You'd be surprised how much of a market there is for nerdy sixteen year old boys in the prostitution business." Peter felt light-headed. He was going to be paid for having his virginity taken from him by a beautiful and buxom older woman? It seemed like it couldn't be real. But it was. Darcy slowly unbuttoned her wool sweater, pulling it off to reveal a tight black tank top barely containing that largest pair of breasts he'd ever seen, seemingly in danger of bursting out. His cock, already erect, was getting harder and harder. Darcy saw this, and laughed. "You really know how to make a girl feel good about herself." "What do you want me to do?" said Peter earnestly. "Sorry, but I'm new to this whole thing." "Prostitution?" "Sex." Darcy smiled as she unzipped her tight skinny jeans, pulling them down until they pooled up at her ankles, revealing her lime green panties. While Peter watched, awe-struck, she turned around and bent over the bed, her ass sticking out at him. It looked round, and soft, and juicy. "You asked me what I want you to do?" asked Darcy. "The reason I chose you is because I want someone genuine. Someone who isn't just trying to follow my orders. These other guys are trained to do exactly what I want. But you... you can surprise me. Go on, Peter. Have your way with me." Teenage boy dies of heart attack in freak prostitution accident, thought Peter. At least it'd be an impressive way to go out. He reached down, clumsily unbuttoning his pants, pulling them down with clear impatience. Throughout all this, his cock had remained painfully hard, and as he stared at the plump pale ass eagerly awaiting him, he knew he couldn't control himself much longer. Peter had just enough time to pull on a condom and smear lube over it before his animal instincts took over. He grabbed Darcy's panties, tearing them off. Darcy gasped, then moaned, as the teenager slid his dick into her cunt and began to thrust. "Oh man.." Peter quickened his pace, moving faster and faster as he found his rhythm. He grabbed his client's plump ass, fondling the pale flesh. Peter's confidence began to increase as Darcy's moans got louder, and he raised a hand and slapped her ass hard. "Oh!" A red hand-mark began to form, and Peter immediately regretted hitting her. "I'm sorry, I-" "Harder!" she demanded, glasses askew, face flushed, fat tits swinging back and forth with every thrust. Peter looked down at her backside, and grinned. "If you insist." He hit her ass, sending ripples through the trembling flesh, then hit it again. With each smack it shook and quivered, and as he watched it Peter knew that he couldn't last much longer. "Fuck me! Fucking fuck me!" shouted Darcy, and Peter closed his eyes, imagining that it was Liz Allan underneath him instead, that she was the one begging to be fucked harder. He pictured her tight little ass thrust up into the air, her pretty red lips in an o-shape, her small but firm breasts in his hands. Peter felt the pressure building up within him. He wished that he could hold it off a little longer, wished that this moment could never end, but he knew he was finished. The teen grabbed Darcy's shoulders, pulling her closer as he thrusted one last time. Darcy screamed, and Peter pulled out, ripping off his condom and having just enough time to raise his cock before he came. "Ah! Fuck!" He finished all over Darcy's back, coating her in white. She turned to look at him, breathing heavily, and a glob splattered her glasses, before dripping down and falling into her upper lip. "Sorry..." said Peter bashfully, but Darcy just laughed. "Thank you," she whispered, before kissing him on the cheek. She pulled up her pants and sauntered toward the door, hips swinging in a mesmerizing way. After she was gone, Peter flopped down on the bed, grinning so wide he felt like his face would split apart. "I think I'm going to like it here..." ***** Running Hot ***** Chapter Notes Chapter from "Start Me Up" by the Rolling Stones. By the time Peter got home, it was already dark. He tiptoed through the halls of the apartment building, unlocking the door as quietly as he could. Peter snuck towards his room, careful not to make a noise- "Peter!" His heart fell. He turned around slowly, to see his Aunt May standing at the end of the hallway, clearly livid. "Uh, hi, Aunt May! What's up?" She stormed towards him angrily. "Don't 'what's up' me! I was just on the phone with Ned's mother. She says you weren't at his house today." "Yeah, I know, I, um- We went to the library, the two of us, to study. We-" "Stop lying!" Peter stopped, feeling like he had been slapped. May sighed, put a hand on her head. "I'm sorry for snapping, Peter. I just- I don't know what's gotten into you recently. Ever since Ben-" "I'm fine. Really." Aunt May hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. But if you ever want someone to talk to you, I'm here." "I know, Aunt May. Thank you." She bent down, kissed his forehead, before turning and walking to her room. Peter couldn't help but see how her ass wiggled as she walked, how those tight jeans accentuated every curve... "Aw, man," he sighed, as he felt an increasingly familiar sensation. A minute later, Peter was standing in front of the toilet, stroking himself frantically. "Liz..." He thought of her beautiful breasts topped with their dark little nipples. He thought of her bouncy ass in a tight skirt, wiggling with each step. He thought of her asking to be taken, begging for it, and finally, when he grew tired of playing with her, he'd fulfill her wish. He thought of her in sweatpants and a yellow sweater, with her cute glasses showing off her pretty brown eyes- Damn it, thought Peter. He had tried to stop himself from thinking those kinds of thoughts, but he couldn't help himself. And when he finally came, it wasn't to his young classmate, but to an older, more mature woman. A woman who took care of him. Who was like a mother to him- He gasped as he came, his seed flying into the toilet, where he quickly flushed it. Peter used a tissue to wipe the sweat off his forehead, before heading off to bed, exhausted after a hard day's work. The next day was mostly the same. He woke up early, ate a nice, home cooked breakfast, went off to school, talked with Ned, stared at Liz, excelled in math class, failed in gym class, jerked off in the bathroom after getting a good luck at Mrs. Warren's cleavage as she bent down to check his homework, and finally, when the last bell rang, ran off through the streets of New York City to the warehouse district, to 1963 Kirby Street. This time, it wasn't Ward who let him in, but a grumpy man who for some unfathomable reason was called Happy. Happy led Peter to his room, and told him to wait until he had a new client. Peter turned to Pietro, who was lying on his bed on his phone. "What'cha doing?" Pietro looked at Peter silently, then turned back to his phone. Peter almost kept talking, before deciding against it. Someone knocked on the door, and Peter looked up, excited, only for his anticipation to turn to worry when an older man walked into the room. The man looked at Peter, and laughed. "Don't worry, man. I'm not here for you." Pietro hopped off the bed, walking to the client. From the open doorway, a second client came in, this one a woman with long brown hair and a swollen stomach, clearly in the late stages of pregnancy. "Hey, Pietro," said the woman smiling, and Pietro nodded in greeting. "Laura. Clint. How are things?" "Better, now that you're here," whispered Clint in Pietro's ear, reaching out to stroke the prostitute's cock through his tight pants. "Where's your sweet little slut of a sister?" "In her room, waiting. She's excited to see you two again." "Well, we're excited to see our favorite pair of incestuous twins outside of HBO," said Laura, before turning to Peter, who was lying back on the bed. "Clint, Pietro, why don't you go find Wanda, warm her up for me." "What about you?" asked Clint. "I want to chat with the new kid Pietro told us all about last night." "Alright, honey. Just remember, anyone you fuck, I'm allowed to fuck too." "I'm not going to fuck him," Laura said, rolling her eyes. She took a seat on the bed next to Peter, who looked at her uncertainly. "Run along now." When they were gone, Laura didn't speak for quite a while. She simply looked at Peter, who waited, unsure of what she was going to do. Finally, she spoke: "I heard you gave a girl a nice hard fuck last night, Peter." "Uh... I guess so, yeah." Laura leaned in close, and Peter was uncomfortably aware of her swollen breasts, straining against her tank top. "Clint hasn't fucked me, I mean really fucked me, for over a year. It's been mostly Pietro satisfying the both of us, though Wanda certainly helps." She patted her stomach. "I'm not even sure if my husband was the one who got me pregnant, to be honest. In the past few months it's been Pietro who came inside me the most. If the baby comes out with white hair and an inclination towards fucking its siblings, maybe we'll know." "Uh, I'm sorry, um, Laura... but I'm not sure why exactly you're telling me this." Laura shrugged. She spoke softly, a hand going down to Peter's thigh as she did. "Who knows? Maybe I'm trying to impart a valuable life lesson to a teen who's clearly troubled and uncertain about his place in life. Or maybe... maybe I'm asking you to fuck me." Her nipples were hard underneath her tank top. The older woman's roaming hand had reached his cock, curling around it. Laura leaned in, closing her eyes, and Peter prepared to kiss her. Then the door burst open, Happy watching angrily. "Hey! If you want to have sex with one of our escorts, do it on your own time!" Peter looked away, blushing, but Laura met his gaze. "I'm not going to fuck him, Happy. I just wanted to get a taste." "Well, you can do that later too. Peter has some new clients coming in." "Come on," pouted Laura. "Give us five more minutes. Pwetty pwease?" "Fine," grumbled Happy. "Five minutes. No more." Laura grinned, winking, and Happy walked out. She turned back to Peter, who had barely moved since Happy burst in. "Now... where were we?" Her lips clashed against Peter's, her tongue invading his mouth. Well, what do you know, though Peter. My first kiss, and it's in a brothel with a pregnant married woman in her forties. Laura broke off the kiss after a while, though Peter still wanted more. But his disappointment soon disappeared when Laura grabbed the neckline of her tank top and tugged it down. One of her breasts popped out, plump and swollen and covered in blue veins. The areolas were wide and flat and pale, though the nipples themselves were firm and hard. "What do you think?" she asked, a tad shyly, and without further ado Peter dove down. His lips curled around the nipple, his teeth lightly pinching it, sucking on it noisily- And a sudden stream of warm milk squirted out, filling his mouth. Peter looked up at her, shocked, mouth still wrapped around her tit. "I'm pregnant, remember?" Laura laughed, before her laughter was suddenly replaced with moans as he squeezed the breast with one hand, sending another burst of milk. He drank from it thirstily, suckling loudly, his hand not busy with her breast resting on her protruding stomach. Peter thought about how there was a living creature growing inside her, and more impressively, how that entirely new sentient organism was created simply because someone came inside her. He imagined doing the same to Darcy, wishing that he hadn't worn a condom with her. He thought about how Liz would look with her flat, toned stomach replaced with a sweet little baby bump, then about what it'd be like to spill his seed deep within her, or within Darcy, or the milf he was currently feeding from, or even inside the dripping cunt of his very own- Laura raised an eyebrow, as with mounting humiliation Peter felt a damp spot slowly growing on the front of his khakis. He broke away from Laura's tit, blushing crimson, and Laura laughed. "Don't worry about it, Pete. I take it as a compliment. I hope you enjoyed your meal." "Yeah," said Peter quickly, nodding furiously. "It was great, it was- wow." She chuckled. "Well, I'd love to do it again some time. If you're ever a bit parched, just give me a call. Unfortunately, I think I heard footsteps. Sounds like your clients are here." Laura slipped out, off to rejoin her husband and his lover, and moments later the new clients walked in. And Peter Parker almost fainted right then. ***** The Kids Are Losing Their Minds ***** Chapter Notes Title from "Blitzkrieg Bop" by the Ramones. "Oh. My. God. Peter Parker?" Peter couldn't believe his eyes. Standing in the doorway were three people he knew well. Betty Brant, a cheerleader he'd never even had enough nerve to talk to. Michelle Jones, a quasi-friend of his and Ned's who spent all her time either reading or making fun of people. And in the center, wearing daisy dukes that showed off her long smooth legs and a tight red crop top... "Liz," whispered Peter, as the girl of his dreams looked at him in a mixture of disgust and confusion. "What- What are you doing here?" "My dad gave me money to buy a car for my birthday," she replied, "and Betty and Michelle were hanging out at my house last night, and we got kind of super drunk, and we started thinking about how none of us had ever... you know..." "Got fucked," finished Michelle bluntly. "What's up with the jizz stain on your pants, Parker?" "Um..." Peter grabbed a pillow, covered himself, blushing furiously. "Ewww," said Betty, wrinkling her nose. "I think the real question is... What are you doing here?" Peter looked up at Michelle, trying to think of an answer that didn't involve him telling the most popular girl in school that he was a prostitute. "Well, uh, there's a- a simple explanation, really. I'm a... a... a prostitute." God damn it, he thought, as Betty gasped. "But Peter, you're only, what, sixteen?" "So are you." "Yeah, that's why we specifically asked Mr. Hogan if there were any people here who were under eighteen." "So you got your wish. What's the problem?" "Peter," said Liz with concern. "They didn't force you into this, did they?" "What? No!" He hadn't meant to snap at her, but the three girls were seriously starting to get on his nerves. "Okay," she said, taken aback. "I'm sorry, Peter. I'm just worried about you." "It's- It's fine, Liz. I shouldn't have yelled at you. I have an idea. How about I go get Pietro? He's only a few years over eighteen, and he's a lot more experienced at this than I am, and-" "Why bother?" asked Michelle. "Why don't we just fuck you?" "Uh... what?" Liz chewed on her lip, looking down at Peter as if she was seeing him for the first time. "Huh. Michelle... that isn't a bad idea." "I'm not sure..." said Betty, but Liz wasn't paying any attention to her. Instead she was looking straight at Peter, smiling a little as she strode towards him. Liz knelt down on the bed in front of Peter. She grabbed the pillow hiding his stained khakis, and moved it away. "Liz..." whispered Peter, and Liz leaned in and kissed him. It wasn't anything like when he kissed Laura, fast and fierce. Liz was more hesitant, he could tell, more uncertain. Her kiss was slower, less aggressive, and she was barely even opening her mouth. In a way, Peter thought he might prefer Liz's. One of his hands moved to her thighs, feeling the muscles underneath. Then it moved up, to the bottom of her shorts, sliding underneath the fabric. Peter felt the underside of her behind, firm but pleasantly plump. He gave it a little pinch, and Liz moaned into his mouth. "Oh, Peter..." Betty and Michelle watched, the former awe-struck and the latter apparently uninterested, as Liz broke off the kiss, unbuttoning her shorts and tugging them off her, before throwing them to the ground. She was wearing a pair of green panties, a damp spot slowly growing on the front. Peter grinned, taking off his own pants while Liz began playing with her pussy through her underwear. When his pants and underwear were off, Peter's hard cock stood straight out, and Liz gasped in astonishment. "Peter... you're so big..." Peter couldn't wait any longer. He pushed Liz down onto her back, and as she fell onto the bed with a gasp, he grabbed her panties and pulled them down over his long, caramel-colored legs, tossing them away. Her pussy was hairless and smooth, and when Peter looked down at it he knew it had to be his. He put a hand on each of Liz's shoulders, leaning over her, and kissed her one more time. "Peter..." she groaned. "P- Peter!" He had pushed himself into her, and though at first she looked clearly uncomfortable, as Peter began to thrust faster and faster she soon began to moan. Liz let out little gasps while Peter fucked her, and they turned him on so much he kissed her again, harder this time, as he grabbed her crop top and tore it in half. "Peter, that cost-" began Liz indignantly, only for Peter to bite down on her nipple, just hard enough for her to gasp. "Oh! Just like that..." He thrusted inside of her again and again, and Liz wrapped her long legs around his waist, pulling him closer. His cock began to twitch from deep inside of her, as his orgasm began to build. "Where do you want me to finish?" Peter asked, and Liz smiled wickedly. She stayed in the same position, her legs holding him, stopping him from moving away. "Right there," she said naughtily, and seconds away from orgasm Peter knew he couldn't pull out in time. "Oh... oh fuck!" He came inside of her, deep, deep within, as she finished as well, screaming so loud that Betty winced and covered her ears. When they were done, Peter pulled out, his erection still as strong as ever. He looked at Liz, who lay back on the bed, completely drained. "I don't suppose you'd want to help me out with that, would you?" Liz smiled. "I would, but I'm a bit exhausted right now. And besides... I think someone else deserves a turn." "I'll go," said Betty, standing up. Peter grinned. "Sounds good. How do want me?" "Hmmm... Well, you can't, uh, deflower me. I'm saving myself for marriage. But there are other ways I can get you off." She knelt down on the bed, looking down at Peter's throbbing erection with a hungry look in her eyes. "Why don't you stand up?" Peter did as she said, his dick now right in front of Betty's face. She smiled, before leaning in and taking the head of it inside her mouth. She sucked at the head, licking and kissing it, while with her hands she played with the shaft. "Come on," said Liz suddenly, sitting up. "Is that best you can do?" Betty began stroking faster, as she slid her mouth deeper down Peter's cock. Peter gasped a little, but Liz, who was lazily playing with her pussy, was still clearly not satisfied. She grabbed Betty's hair, and as the blonde protested helplessly, words muffled by the dick in her mouth, Liz pushed the girl's head forward, Peter's entire cock going deep into her mouth, so deep he could see its outline through her throat. Peter facefucked Betty mercilessly, as Liz held her head in place. Betty's eyes were wide and quickly filling up with tears, as strands of drool ran down her chin. Liz moved her hand away from her cunt, instead using it to fondle Betty's ass through its skirt. She gave it a few smacks, and Betty whimpered, face turning red as she ran out of breath. "That's a good girl," whispered Liz to Betty, as her mascara began to run down her face, mixed with her tears. "Just a little longer..." In the corner, Michelle was reading a book. Finally, when Betty couldn't take it anymore, she slapped a hand against Peter's thigh, begging to be released. Liz ignored her protests just a little longer, as Peter felt himself drawing closer and closer to his climax. "Oh god... oh-" He came inside her mouth, and her eyes bulged out as his come flooded her throat. Betty smacked against Peter's thighs harder and harder, and finally Liz let her go. Betty fell back, onto her side, as a large glob of Peter's jizz dropped out of her mouth. She whimpered, and Peter suddenly realized what he had done. "Oh shit... Betty, I'm sorry. That was too much-" She shook her head, and, with a look of disgust on her face, swallowed. "No," she gasped out. "That was... that was what I needed." Liz smiled, and lay down behind her, spooning her. She slid one of her hands inside of Betty's jeans, and Betty gasped. "I always knew you were a little slut..." Peter watched Liz play with Betty, growing hard once again, only tearing his eyes away when he heard Michelle say, from the back of the room: "My turn." Michelle stood there, arms crossed, and Peter was shocked to see that she was completely undressed. She had always worn baggy, unflattering clothes, and that combined with her general uninterest in how she looked made it so Peter never really noticed her appearance. But standing in front of him, totally naked, Michelle seemed completely different. Peter's gaze went over her long and muscular legs, past her wide hips and slim waist, before stopping at her chest. Underneath her loose-fitting shirts and army jacket, her breasts were plump but firm, better than Liz's or Betty's by far. For once, she was wearing make-up, and though he had known her for years Peter only then realized how beautiful she was. Michelle looked away as he stared at her. Despite her best efforts, she was clearly embarrassed. "Well?" she demanded. "What do you think?" "I think... I think I just hit the jack-pot." She looked at him, gave one of her rare smiles. "Then what are you waiting for?" "Nothing," said Peter, as he strode forward. He kissed her deeply, like Laura had kissed him, as his hands roamed across her body, before stopping at her ass. Michelle rubbed up against him, grinding her pussy into his cock, her hard nipples pushing into his chest. She grabbed the bottom of his shirt, stopping the kiss just long enough to pull it off. Peter leaned down and bit her neck, and as Michelle gasped, he moved one hand away from her ass, grabbing his cock, and positioning it so it was lined up with her little pink pussy. He was about to push inside of her when she broke away, looking down at the floor. "Wait," she said. "Is something wrong?" asked Peter, and Michelle slowly turned away, facing the wall, her back to him. "Like this," she said, putting her hands on the wall, bracing herself. Peter rested his hands on her hips as he slowly slid inside her, careful not to be too rough. Michelle whimpered, and Peter kissed her softly on the neck, then on the shoulder, as he eased his way deeper. "Shhh," he whispered soothingly. "You're doing good. You're doing good." Part of him wanted to fuck her as hard as he had Darcy, completely let loose, but something stopped him. Instead, he kept the same pace, slowly moving in and out, her soft ass cheeks feeling warm and snug around his cock. Behind him, Liz sat watching the show, Betty sitting on her lap, one of the brunette's hands deep inside of Betty's panties, the other fondling her friend's perky tits. Michelle twisted around, and Peter kissed her as he fucked her, taking his hands away from her ass and instead placing them on the wall over Michelle's. He would've liked to kept going forever, but Peter knew he was close. "I'm going to come," he told her, and Michelle nodded. "Inside of me. Please." "You sure?" he asked, not sure why he hadn't with Liz. "Yeah. I'm sure," she said, and that was enough for Peter. As he came with a groan, he grabbed her breasts, feeling the soft mounds of flesh in his hands. Michelle moaned, Peter's come trickling down her legs. At the same time, Betty screamed from the bed, Liz's fingers driving her to her breaking point. Liz smiled, moved her face close to Betty's, and ran her tongue across it, licking up the sweat and tears. Peter pulled out of Michelle, who stumbled back and almost fell. Peter caught her, slowly lowering her onto the bed. She looked up at him, smiling tiredly. They were all silent for a while, but soon Liz stood up, gathering up her scattered clothes and pulling them on. She gave Peter a kiss on the cheek, and whispered in his ear as she passed him on her way to the door. "See you in school Monday." Betty left next, and as she walked by Peter he, seized by a sudden uncontrollable urge, raised a hand and slapped down hard on her plump ass. Betty yelped, scampering out of the room quickly, and Peter laughed, before turning to Michelle. Unlike the others, she hadn't bothered getting dressed, sitting on the bed with a sad look on her face. "Well," said Peter, "how was I? Not too disappointing, right?" "I want to fuck you again," said Michelle, and Peter could tell she really meant it. "I'll be here after school basically every day-" "Not here. I don't want you to do it just because you're getting paid. I- I want you, Peter." "I- I don't know." Peter wanted to tell her he felt the same way, but he knew that if he was with her it'd be impossible to keep working at the Compound. How could he spend his afternoons fucking random strangers for money, while at the same time having a serious and committed relationship? Was it possible for a prostitute to have a girlfriend? "I don't think we should. Not yet, at least." Michelle nodded, though he could tell she was disappointed. "Oh. Okay. Yeah, I- I get it." She pulled on her clothes, walking out without a word. Peter threw himself down on the bed. How was it that he had managed to fuck the three hottest girls in his school and he still could end up unhappy? When he got home, his Aunt wasn't there. A note on the refrigerator told him to heat up the leftover meatloaf from the past night for supper, that she'd be back soon. Peter sat at the table glumly, eating his food and doing his homework at the same time. He had no idea where his aunt had gone, where she had gone every Friday night of the last few months. And if he had, he definitely wouldn't be any happier. ***** Colored Lights Can Hypnotize ***** Chapter Notes Title from "American Woman" by The Guess Who. "Everyone, give Christine a big hand!" From behind the stage curtain, May could hear the applause, along with catcalls and a few unsavory comments. "I've got something else big to give her!" someone shouted, laughter ringing out in response. "And now," announced Rollins from the stage, "give it up for May!" May Parker looked down at herself. Her tight, red white and blue bikini showed off an impressive amount of cleavage, barely holding back her breasts. Where had she gone wrong in life, thought May, that at the age of fifty she had to debase herself like this? May sighed, then took a deep breath, and walked out onto the stage. She grinned widely, blowing kisses out towards the cheering audience, before taking her place at the stripper pole. She started off slowly, dancing around the pole, before coming to a stop behind it. May pressed her body against the pole, the cold metal between her breasts, and ran her tongue across it. "Whore!" "Fucking slut!" She ignored the jeers. Unlike most strip clubs, the Triskelion not only allowed verbal abuse of its dancers, it encouraged it. It hurt, at first, but over time May became used to it, and she knew that the rowdier the crowd was, the more likely they were to tip her. May squatted down, spreading her knees, the thin red and white fabric of her bikini bottom failing to completely conceal her pussy. She closed her eyes, and gyrated her hips, rubbing her sex against the pole. "Like that! Just like that!" "Yeah! Fuck yeah!" She stood up, turned around, and arched her back, drawing attention to her round bottom. May's ass had always been her best feature, and she felt a small twinge of pride knowing that dozens of men in the room were completely enthralled by it. But, as she pushed her backside up against the bar, sliding it between her plump ass cheeks, that pride was soon replaced by disgust. Who knew what kinds of things had touched the metal pole she was now rubbing her most intimate parts on? "Show us your tits!" demanded an older bald man, one of the Triskelion's most frequent visitors. His buddies laughed and clapped him on the back, and May forced herself to smile at him. She whirled around the pool, facing the audience, and leaned down, showing off her deep cleavage. A tattooed man sitting right by the stage mimed jerking off, and May stuck out her tongue, opening her mouth wide, triggering another wave of laughter and jeers. She stood up straight, and slowly unhooked her bra strap, bouncing along with the music as she did. May held the bra to her breasts, denying the audience just long enough to get their excitement to its peak, before pulling it off and throwing it into the crowd. One of the older man's friends grabbed it, thrusting the bra up into the air in triumph. The crowd roared, as May put her hands behind her head and danced wildly, hips swinging, tits jiggling with every quick movement. Her puffy nipples hardened in the cold, air-conditioned building, and as she danced she felt herself getting wet, as she always did, no matter how dirty and unclean it made her feel. "Finally!" "Dance for us, slut!" As they shouted, the audience threw dollar bills at her. Most were fives or tens, but she saw twenties, and every so often May managed to get a hundred. The music was reaching an end, so she decided to finish up with her speciality. May got down on all fours, looking up at the audience with her teeth bared, and raised her posterior up in the air, assuming the position of an animal about to be mounted. She pushed her ass up to the pole, robbing it up and down, and as the song ended, she threw back her head and faked an orgasm, moaning as loudly as she could, eyes rolling back in her head. The crowd went wild, clapping and cheering and shouting obscenities at her. "And now, introducing... Shuri!" Shuri, a pretty girl who was the Triskelion's newest dancer, went up on the stage in a thong and black pasties. May went down to mingle with the crowd, hoping to earn some extra cash. "Hey, sugar tits! Over here!" May turned to the bald man with the green army jacket. He'd been to all her shows for the past month, but this was the first time he had talked to her. "What is it, sweetie?" asked May in her breathy bimbo-voice. She sauntered over, making sure to swing her hips as she did. When she reached him, one of his friends, an overweight man with a beanie, peered at her. "Not bad. Bit old, but still fuckable." "Aww, you're making me blush!" May said, hating herself. "Yeah, but she's no-" began another one of the group, a bearded man wearing a yellow coat. "-who was that fine piece of ass who used to work for you, Phineas?" "Oh, you mean Peggy Carter?" replied the person who must've been Phineas. "She was pretty fucking hot, wasn't she? I had to let her go, though. Kept begging me to let her suck my dick in exchange for a bonus, and I told her she might have tits the size of balloons, there was no way she was worth what she was asking for." The fourth man, a bald African-American who May had seen there a few times before, shook his head, grinning. "Man, don't tell me you believe that, Jackson. There's no way that happened. Sounds to me like it was the other way round." "Now, Herman," said the oldest man with a grin. "There's no need to doubt Phineas. Why would he lie?" "Thank you," Phineas said, but he wasn't done yet. "I mean, what beautiful woman wouldn't be overcome with an overwhelming desire to suck off Phineas, prime specimen of manliness that he is?" The others all laughed, except Phineas, who sighed. "Screw you, Toomes," he mumbled, and Toomes clapped him hard on the back. "Aw, I'm just kidding. What about you, hot legs? How much do we gotta pay for you to give us a, ah, private show?" "Sorry, honey," said May, trying her hardest to seem genuinely sorry. "The boss doesn't let us play favorites. We perform for everyone, or we don't perform at all." Toomes rolled his eyes, taking another sip of his drink. "Well, what time to you get off? Or, should I say, what time do want me to get you off?" May laughed along with the other three, but Toomes wasn't laughing. He reached out with a strong, calloused hand, placing it on the back of her thigh. She jerked away, but Toomes' hand snaked around her wrist, pulling her closer. Still holding on to her, he used his other hand to grab her ass, fondling the soft flesh. "Please, let go!" she protested, but he was holding on too tight. May tried to wrestle out of his grasp, but he was too strong. Toomes grabbed her thin g- string, pulling it hard enough to snap it, revealing her asshole. May whirled around, trying to cover it with her free hand, and at the same time Jackson smacked her ass hard enough to cause her to cry out. Herman watched impassively, but Phineas clearly looked nervous. "Uh, Adrian, maybe you shouldn't-" "Fuck off, fat ass," growled Adrian Toomes, pulling May onto his lap as he did. "She'll probably be grateful someone's willing to throw her a fuck, the old dried out slut." His erection rubbed up against May's cunt as he wrapped an arm around her neck. She writhed, trying to escape, but her movements only made him harder. "That's it... Struggle for me, baby- "Hey!" All five of them turned in the direction of the voice. A tall man with dark skin, a long black coat, and an eyepatch strode towards them purposely, hands balled up into fists. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" demanded the stranger, and Jackson stepped in front of them, rolling up his sleeves. "Get the fuck out of here, nig-" The fist moved faster than May could've imagined, and Jackson was on the floor, unconscious. Adrian pushed May away from her, and she stumbled and fell to her knees. He turned to Phineas and Herman, but both had fled. Toomes grinned, turning back to the new arrival. "I know you. Kilgrave told me all about you, Fury." "Yeah?" said the man named Fury. "Did he tell you what happens to motherfuckers who cross me?" Toomes grinned, pulling open his coat to reveal a revolver tucked into his waistband. Fury did the same, showing Adrian the holster hidden at his side, a black pistol held within. "Try me," he dared. Toomes' eyes darted around nervously, and when he saw that nearly everyone in the club was looking at him, he scowled and turned away. "You're dead, you dumb bastard. Just wait." When he was gone, and security had handed Jackson over to the police, Fury turned to May. He took off his coat, handed it to her, and she wrapped herself in it gratefully. Fury was about to go when she called out after him. "I want to thank you," she said, and he shook his head. "Ain't no reason to. I did what a man should do." "I mean it, though," she said, and she opened the trench coat a little, giving him a peek of her bare breasts, her nipples painfully hard. "I really want to thank you." Fury nodded, waking towards the bathroom. She followed, shutting the door and locking it as she did. When they were done, May washed out her mouth with the sink water, as Fury dabbed at his crotch with a piece of toilet paper. "Sorry about what happened to you," he said, and May tried to smile. "It's fine. Occupational hazard." "It shouldn't be," said Fury seriously. "I run a place down in the warehouse district, called the Compound. It isn't strictly legal, but... it provides a service I think you might be in need of." "You mean, prostitution? I don't know... it seems a bit unethical." "Trust me. It's perfectly safe and sanitary. Far more so than this place, definitely." He handed her a slip of paper from his pocket, with an address on it. "Stop by if you ever want to relieve some stress," said Fury, as he left her in the bathroom. May looked down at the paper, thinking. She hadn't orgasmed properly since Ben died, and she did feel the need to let off some steam... And besides, she'd been having dreams recently, fantasies she didn't dare make a reality. But who knew? Maybe at the Compound, there'd be someone with whom she could act out those fantasies without feeling guilty. May Parker had a secret, one far more damaging than how she spent her nights. For as she had sucked Fury off to completion, she had found herself imagining, just for a second, what it would be like to do the same to her sweet, trusting little nephew... ***** My Love For Her Goes On ***** Chapter Notes Title from "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic" by The Police. Things were looking up for Peter Parker. School was still a pain, but it was easier to get through now that he had something to look forward to. Flash's taunts and insults somehow were less annoying when Peter knew that, in a few hours time, he'd be fucking a beautiful woman and making hundreds and hundreds of dollars as he did. With his money, he took May out to a fancy restaurant as a treat, bought both of them new clothes, and put a sizable amount into his quickly growing college fund. For once. Peter walked through the halls of Midtown High in clothes that were for both fashionable and well-fitting, and he had started being more outgoing, more comfortable on social interactions. He was still a nerd, there was no denying that, but he no longer felt like that was a bad thing. Peter's newfound confidence was only bolstered by the way Liz smiled and blushed when ever he passed her, or how Betty had started cornering him in empty class rooms, looking around to make sure no one was watching, and flashing her small, freckled breasts at him, before hurrying away. And Michelle... "Hey, Pete, do you know what's gotten into Michelle recently?" Peter turned to Ned, who was looking across the table at Michelle, too engrossed in her book to hear his whispers. Faced with the sudden temptation to respond with "Yeah, I did," Peter instead shook his head. "Uh, what do you mean?" "Well, look at her. She looks like she actually cares about how she looks." Peter couldn't argue with that. Michelle was wearing a cute red blouse instead of her typical black army jacket, tight jeans instead of her dark sweatpants. She had make-up on, accentuating her naturally pretty features, and for once her hair was smooth and straight and clean. He wouldn't have ever called Michelle unattractive, especially not after seeing her naked, but this was the first time she'd ever looked truly beautiful. "Something's up with her. I think she's mad at you," continued Ned, and Peter scoffed. "Michelle? Mad at me? No way." He caught her attention and smiled, motioning for her to come closer. She rolled her eyes, turning back to her book. "Well. Um. Maybe a little bit." That afternoon, while he was hanging out in his room, Peter's mind turned to his experiences at the Compound. Since he had fucked his classmates, things had settled down considerably. Sure, he was still having sex on a near daily basis, but it had started to become, if not boring, then monotonous. Laura had came back once, though she was too busy with Pietro and Wanda for Peter to spend any real time with her. An elderly woman who was apparently extremely wealthy offered him a huge amount of money to have sex with her, and though he wasn't attracted to her at all, it wasn't that hard to dutifully pump into her until she was satisfied, and he knew that if she kept coming, he might be able to make enough money to buy a car. A fellow escort named Karen visited his room, offered to do something called JOI with him, but he politely refused despite how attractive she was, not wanting to agree to anything that he didn't know what it was. The job was still great, but it didn't have the spark it once did. He could still picture how Betty looked when she was slobbering at his cock, how it felt to come inside of Liz, or Michelle... Peter groaned. His dick was slowly hardening, as it did so often those days. He reached under the covers, and began softly massaging it, remembering Michelle's little gasps of joy as he fucked her. His cock twitched a little as Peter closed his eyes and thought about what would happen if she had gotten pregnant. Her stomach growing, contorting her body, his breasts swelling along with it, filling up milk. She'd lie in bed all day, with Peter bringing her whatever she asked for, and at night he'd take her again and again, drinking from her engorged tits, filling her up with his seed again and again... "Peter?" Seconds before he was about to come, the door opened, and Peter's eyes flew open. His Aunt May was standing in the doorway, wearing one of the nice new outfits Peter bought her. Peter opened his mouth to respond, but his orgasm rippled through him just as he did. It took all his effort not to cry out, as May walked up to his bed and sat down, facing him. "You okay, sweetie? You look a bit... flushed." "No, I'm fine," he managed, painfully aware of the sticky come that was now coating his cock. His Aunt put a hand on his leg, uncomfortably close to his still erect dick. "I'm going out, okay, Pete?" "Where are you heading?" he asked casually, tucking his penis into his waistband under the blankets as he did, hoping she wouldn't notice. "Oh, nowhere special," May replied, the same thing she had said the last dozen times she left the apartment after the sun had set. She leaned down, kissing Peter on the forehead. As she moved away, May lingered for a moment, face inches from her nephew's. Her hand was moving up his thigh unconsciously, closer and closer to his cock. I want him inside of me, realized May. Disgusted, she quickly stepped away, smoothing her skirt, rushing for the door. "Bye, Peter," she said as she left, and Peter barely had time to respond. "Bye!" he called out, and when his Aunt was gone he climbed out of bed, his erection straining against his pants. Peter considered jerking off right there, but a better idea came to him. Why bother masturbating, he asked himself, when he could get money for fucking someone? And so Peter headed off in the direction of the Compound, unaware that at that very moment his Aunt was as well. Underneath 1963 Kirby Street, Peter rushed to his room, remembering that Laura had said she would be visiting that night. He wanted to pick up where they had left off, gorging himself on her breast milk, only stopping to tear off her clothes and fuck her hard, coming inside of her whether she liked it or not. Peter was so determined to get to his room in time to see her that he paid no attention to where he was going, up until the point where he turned a corner and ran straight into an attractive young blonde. Cursing, Peter helped her off the ground, getting a good look at her as he did. She was tall and thin, with high, firm breasts and a round ass, all barely concealed by her white lingerie. "I'm so sorry!" he said, and she laughed it off. "No problem. I should've been looking where I was going. I'm Sharon, by the way. I don't think we've met." "I'm Peter." Her eyes narrowed as she looked more closely at him. "Hang on, are you an escort?" asked Sharon. "You look like you're sixteen. No offense." "None taken," replied Peter. "I am sixteen." "Isn't that a little young to be having sex for money?" "I guess so. Do you know if Laura's here yet?" "Clint's wife? Yeah, she's with Pietro and Wanda in my room. I think they're a bit busy. Why?" "No reason. Thanks," he replied, secretly disappointed. "Don't mention it. See you around, Peter." "See ya." They parted ways, and Peter reached his bedroom, pulling the door. Pietro was gone; it drove Peter crazy knowing he was fucking Laura at that very moment, probably drinking from her breasts like he had so desperately hoped to do. Peter had barely sat down when the door opened, and Ward walked in. "Peter! I'm glad you're here. There's a first time client asking for you. I think they're on their way right now." "Asking for me by name?" asked Peter, and Ward shook his head. "No, she just asked for someone younger, and Coulson recommended you. I feel kind of jealous, honestly. She's real hot." Peter grinned, starting to think that the night might not be a total waste. "Yeah?" "Yeah. In fact, I think I'm going to have to look her up," said Ward, as the sound of footsteps came closer and he turned to leave. As he walked out the door, Ward muttered something that made Peter's heart stop for a second. "May Parker. Nice name." The door was only closed for a second before the knob started to turn again. Peter jumped out of bed, rushing for the closet, glad he had swapped out his own clothes for a red t-shirt and tight blue jeans. As the door opened, Peter pulled on the first disguise he could find, a red ski mask. He turned, coming face to face with his Aunt May, who looked anxious. "Uh, hi," she said, blushing furiously. "Are you Miles?" Peter didn't know how to respond at first. When he realized what was going on, he silently thanked Phil Coulson for helping him out. "Yeah," he began, before clearing his throat and continuing in a different, deeper voice. "Yeah, I'm Miles." "It's nice to meet you, Miles," she said, blushing scarlet. "I- I'm sorry. I'm kind of new to this." "It's fine," he said gruffly. "So, what's up with the mask? You into pro-wrestling?" "It's a, um... it keeps things anonymous." May nodded, taking a step forward. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "I like it," she confessed, and at the same time she reached to the zipper in the back of her tight black skirt. Peter almost fainted when his aunt pulled down her skirt and he saw that she had no panties on underneath. May noticed his staring, and laughed apologetically. "I know, I'm a bit of a slut-" Hearing his aunt, the woman who had raised him since he was nine years old, call herself a slut was more than Peter could take. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her close, his erection pushing against her wet, hairy cunt. She closed her eyes, moaning, rubbing up against him. "Ohhh. Just like that." Peter reached up and palmed May's breasts roughly through her blouse. They weren't as large as Darcy's, or as firm as Liz's, but they were special. They were his aunt's. "Tell me what you want me to do to you," whispered Peter, and May shuddered as he reached down and squeezed her plump ass, jiggling the flesh. "I want..." she broke off. "You're going to think I'm an awful person." "I promise," he said gently. "I won't." "I want my nephew." When Peter didn't respond, May stepped away from him, her worst fears seemingly confirmed by his silence. "I know, I know, it's terrible... but I can't deny it any longer. It's been so lonely since my husband died, and Peter... he's there for me. He's such a sweet boy, and he looks so much like Ben did at his age. Please, don't think too harshly of me." "I won't. Aunt." May looked up at him, eyes widening, and then she smiled. "Like that. That's good. Can I- Can I call you Peter?" "Of course you can, auntie." Peter's aunt grinned, and she reached for her blouse, slowly pulling it up over her head. She had gone without a bra, and her soft round breasts were better than Peter had ever fantasized, her puffy nipples hard and firm. "Then, Peter... why don't you fuck your aunt?" That was all he had to hear. Peter grabbed May and threw her down onto the bed, harder than he had meant to, but she didn't seem to mind. May spread her legs, pussy dripping. She closed her eyes, and leaned back. "Go on. Take me. Your auntie's been such a bad girl, Peter, and she needs- OH!" Peter forced himself into her roughly. May writhed and bucked wildly as he pushed his cock deeper into her tight pink folds. She grabbed the bedsheets, bracing herself as Peter thrusted again and again. "Fuck... fucking Christ. You're so big, Peter. So goddamn big." I'm hurting her, realized Peter, and she likes it. He sped up, the sight of his aunt's flushed sweaty face under his turning him on more than he could've imagined. "Peter... fuck me. Fuck your slutty little auntie. Fuck my sweet little cunt." Peter was shocked to hear his aunt swearing like that, but it only turned him on more. He wondered how he could've spent years pining after Liz when there was a woman a hundred times as hot living in the bedroom next to his. And from the sounds she was making as he took her, May was just as eager to fuck him as he was her. "You like that?" Peter taunted, as he reached down and pinched her erect nipples, twisting them until she moaned. "You like it when I take control, auntie?" "Yes!" May screamed, moving her hips in time with his thrusts, pushing his cock even deeper into her. "I'm yours, Peter! I'm your whore! I'm your naughty slut!" Peter could feel his orgasm building up. "I'm- I'm going to come soon. I think... I think I want to come inside of you." May's look of pleasure turned to fear. "Wait. Wait, no, Miles. You can't." He wanted to ignore her, wanted to fill her stomach up with his seed, wanted to impregnate her, no matter how wrong or unethical it was. But he didn't. Instead, Peter pulled out just in time, coming all over her stomach and breasts, his jizz splattering her tits. May smiled blissfully. "That was- That was so good. Thank you, Miles." Peter nodded. He got up onto the bed and crawled around her, until their faces were opposite. She looked up at him, a loving look in her eyes, her lips curled up into a little smile. Peter pulled up his mask just enough to reveal his mouth, and he bent down over her. He kissed his aunt, long and hard and deep. It was the kind of kiss he never wanted to end. It did, though, far too soon. May moved away and stood up, turning back to him with a frown. "I'm sorry, I- I have to get going. I left my nephew at home, and he'll get worried if I stay out too long." "He sounds like a good kid," said Peter, as his aunt pulled on her clothes. "Yeah. He is. I really love him." "Maybe you should show him just how much you love him," suggested Peter, and May raised her eyebrows, before smiling and nodding. "You're right. I should. Thanks for everything." "It was my pleasure." May blew a kiss, then laughed and walked out the door. Peter waited until he was sure she was gone, before quickly changing back into his normal clothes. He rushed home, taking a short-cut from the Compound back to the apartment he knew his aunt wouldn't know. Peter climbed up the fire escape and crawled through his bedroom window, throwing himself down on the bed just as his aunt walked in. "Hey, Peter! What's up!" said May cheerfully, before wrinkling up her nose in disgust. "Is that smell you? Jeez, Peter, you should really take a shower. You're all sweaty." "Yeah, I guess I should," he laughed. "So, uh, what's up?" "Oh, nothing," she said, sitting down at the side of his bed. "I was just thinking- about how good you've been to me. I owe you so much." "Please, May, I'm the one who owes you. You've taken such good care of me." May laughed, clearly flattered, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. "Maybe. But-" she said as she stood up, taking a deep breath. "I think you deserve a special reward." Peter looked at her panty-less ass, straining against the seams of her tight skirt. "Uh, what- what do you mean?" He knew, of course, but he wanted to hear her say the words. "Me. You can have me, Peter. Any way you'd like." He considered toying with her for a little while, acting like he still didn't understand, but his cock was painfully hard, and instead he unzipped his pants, pulling them down, before doing the same to his aunt's skirt. Her ass was plump but firm, far more attractive than the backside of a fifty year old woman had any right to be. Peter fondled the cheeks, pinching them a little, giving them a few light smacks. May stood still throughout all this, not making the slightest noise besides a few involuntary gasps she let out when Peter surprised her with a series of quick spanks, hard enough to leave a mark. When he was done playing around with her, Peter placed his hands on her shoulders and slowly bent her over against his desk, May's fat ass sticking up in the air, giving her the appearance of a wild animal about to be mounted. He supposed she was. "I love you, May," said Peter as he positioned his cock to her little pink asshole, pushing the head against it. She whimpered, placing her hands ahead of her flat on the desk, wincing as she braced herself. "I love you too, Peter," May replied, and Peter moved inside of her, her asshole impossibly tight around his erection. May's face scrunched up in pain, tears welling up in her eyes. "Shhh," whispered Peter, stroking her hair. "It's alright. You're so hot. You're so fucking hot." It was different having sex with her as Peter than it was as Miles. He was just as rough as he was before, but it felt sweeter, somehow. More gentle. Before, he was fucking her; now, he was making love. "Peter..." gasped May, her whole body moving with each thrust, shaking the table she was leaning against. Her hands were balled up into fists, and as Peter went deeper inside of her, stretching her out, she hit them against the desk, unable to contain herself. "Just a little more," he said hoarsely. "God, I- I love seeing you like this. My baby girl." She was his, May realized. Even when Ben had been alive, her heart was Peter's. She couldn't remember a time when she didn't dream about him. And now her dreams were coming true. "Yes..." she gasped. "Make me yours. I'm your bitch, Peter. I want to be your bitch." Peter half-expected his dick to fall off, with May's asshole squeezing it so tightly. He had already came twice that day, but he still felt close to exploding inside of her. As he fucked his aunt's ass, Peter grabbed her butt cheeks and shook them vigorously, loving the way they rippled and jiggled. "You're my girl," he said proudly, reaching around her and grabbing her swinging breasts, feeling their softness in his hands. "My sweet little girl." "Yes. Yeesss," she hissed, eyes rolling back. A thin little stream of drool dropped down from her mouth, swinging around as he pounded her tight asshole. "I'm close," Peter groaned. "Where do you want it?" "Inside me," said May without hesitation. "I need you to come inside me. Fill me up, Peter. Fill your sweet auntie up!" Peter nodded, pulling out of her ass with a wet squelching sound, before pushing into her pussy. She screamed as he came, and when he was done he stumbled back, following onto his bed exhausted. May lay on the table, her nephew's seed running down her thighs, legs shaking. Once he had recovered a little, Peter got up walking over to May, turning her over onto her back. His Aunt looked up at him, eyes still glazed over. "P-Peter..." she whispered, voice hoarse from her screams. " I love you so much." Peter smiled, walking around the desk. He bent down and kissed her, heads pointing in opposite directions, like they had before. When he moved away, May's eyes were wide, and she put her hand to her lips. "Peter. Oh, Peter..." "So," said Peter, as he looked over the trembling, sweaty, beautiful body of his own aunt. "What happens now?" ***** Some Stranger's Hand ***** Chapter Notes Title from "The End" by the Doors. That night, Peter Parker dreamt a strange dream. First, he was in the desert. A vicious looking bird of prey crouched in front of a skeleton, picking away at the flash. Lightning flashed, startling the bird and sending it flying away, and when it was gone Peter saw that the bones were those of a human. And its skull was smiling. Peter... Then, Peter was in a colossal ballroom, filled with shadows, empty except for one woman. She danced by herself, wearing no clothes at all, as above her the swinging chandelier cast a strange purple light over the dance floor. Invisible voices echoed throughout the ballroom, mocking her and laughing at her, throwing out jeers and insults. Oh, Peter... Finally, the ballroom faded away, and Peter was standing in an icy wasteland. A warrior clad in shining armor rode towards a monstrous hairy beast, like a wolf the size of an elephant. The warrior held in his hands a long golden spear, the end burning brightly, illuminating a path in the darkness, but as he charged towards the wolf it opened its fanged mouth wide and swallowed him whole. You're so big Peter awoke in a cold sweat, not understanding why the dreams terrified him so much. A dark shape loomed over him, terrifying him at first, until it spoke. "You're so fucking big, Peter." Peter breathed a sigh of relief. His Aunt May was leaning over him, one of her hands wrapped around his erect cock. "I hope you don't mind," she whispered in his ear as she played with his erection. "I just couldn't help myself." "What-What time is it?" muttered Peter, still half-asleep. "Seven," answered May, as she bent down, about to take his cock in her mouth. Peter's eyes flew open. "Seven! I missed the bus!" His aunt laughed. "Really, Pete? You want to go to school today? I was thinking we could both stay home, and... experiment." Peter was tempted, and he deeply wished he could say yes. Instead, he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Aunt May. I have a big test today, I can't miss it. We'll make up for lost time when I get home." May huffed, moving away from Peter's dick, pouting childishly. Peter began to get dressed, pulling on pants and a shirt, before May spoke again. "With you gone for so long, I might get lonely. In fact, I might get so desperate that I have to find someone else who can satisfy me..." Peter whirled around, grabbing her by the shoulders, throwing her down on the bed. May giggled, as Peter pulled his hard cock from his pants, but soon her laughter turned to screams as he plunged into her pussy, fucking his Aunt hard and fast. "No," he said as he thrusted. "You're mine. Only mine." "I-I'm sorry, Peter," May gasped out. "I know I'm yours. I was just- just joking-" Peter barely heard her words, but even if he had he wouldn't have listened. She was his whore, his slut, she admitted it herself, and yet she would dare threaten to let someone else fuck her? The thought made Peter so angry he raised a hand and slapped it down on his aunt's ass harder than he ever had before. "Mine," he repeated, as May screamed and cried underneath him. "Always be mine..." He was marking her, he realized, like a wild animal would its bitch. Like a wolf would. Seized with a sudden inspiration, Peter bent down and took one of her jiggling breasts in his mouth, before biting it hard. May moaned, tears streaming down her face, leaving black trails of mascara. When Peter finally moved away, he could clearly see his teeth marks on her breast, red and dark against her tan flesh. The image made him smile. She was truly his. "May..." he groaned finally, as he thrust one last time, filling her up with his come. When he was done, he rested his head on her pillowy breasts, eyes closed, and his aunt, still sobbing, held him tightly in her arms, kissing the top of his head. His now flaccid cock was still deep in her cunt, but she didn't mind. It felt right, somehow, nestled there. Like that's where it belonged. By the time Peter finally got to school, after taking his aunt in every imaginable position, he was a good four hours late. Luckily, he had Biology last block, and so he managed to get there in time to take the test. When Peter finished, long before the rest of the kids, and had handed it in to Mrs. Warren, he asked to head off to the bathroom, hoping to jerk off quickly. He didn't see Liz handing in the test just after he did, following him out of the door... Peter closed the bathroom stall, looking at the very graphic graffiti on the stall, of a woman with breasts the size of balloons being fucked by a dozen men at once. He sighed, disgusted, but his cock was getting hard, and he decided that would be better to jerk off to than the same old porn he had had on his phone for years. Peter played with his cock, not really into it, wishing that he had agreed to stay home, so he could've really shown his aunt how he owned her. There was so much he wanted to do to her... and chief among them was impregnating her. As Peter imagined his aunt giving birth to his son, he felt close to coming, and he closed his eyes- The door burst open, and Peter opened his eyes to see Liz standing there, grinning. "Good. You're all ready for me," she laughed, reaching for his cock, and without thinking he slapped her hand away. Liz recoiled, clearly offended, and for the first time Peter realized that her right eye was badly bruised. "What happened?" he asked, concerned, but Liz ignored him. She lunged forward, pulling up her skirt, trying to force herself into his erection, and Peter tried to stand up, only for Liz to hold him down, her weight stopping him from moving away. "Liz, get off. I'm serious-" "So am I," she said with a smirk, before gasping as she pushed her pussy down around his cock. Liz leaned in, planting kisses on his neck, hands feeling his hard muscles. "Oh, that's good. Just like tha-" She screamed as Peter finally shoved her off, sending her tumbling to the floor. Liz looked up at him, sprawled out on the cold bathroom tiles, looking both hurt and angry. "What did you do that for?" she asked, and she seemed to really not know. Peter got off the toilet, stuffing his cock back into his pants and zipping up. "Come on, Liz! You can't just fucking attack me like that-" "Attack you?" Liz snarled. "I was fucking you, asshole. Jesus, Peter, you've been ogling me since middle school, and now you act like you're too good for me." Peter sighed. "No, that's not what I meant. I'm just- I'm not in the mood." "Not in the mood? You were jerking off! To fucking bathroom graffiti!" "I'm with someone else now!" shouted Peter, and Liz's face fell. She looked deflated, almost, and Peter immediately felt bad, in spite of himself off. Liz's sadness was soon replaced by anger, as she stood up, a good few inches taller than Peter. "Who? Ned? I hope you two are very happy together. Maybe I'll go find a real man to fuck me, like Flash." Peter ignored the insult. "What happened to your eye, Liz? Is- Is everything okay at home?" Liz laughed bitterly. "Fuck off, Peter." She stormed out, leaving Peter alone in the bathroom stall. He looked one last time at the graffiti, scrawled in purple pen. After school, Peter started to go off in the direction of 1963 Kirby Street, before hesitating. His aunt was the only woman he wanted to be with now, the only woman he'd ever want to be with. But, if he was to give her the life she deserved, he'd need money, and the Compound was still the best place to make it. He entered his room, not surprised to see that Pietro was once again absent. "Probably fucking Laura again," he mumbled, still a bit jealous despite the fact that he now had May. Peter lay down in bed, hoping Darcy would come back, or Karen, or someone. He had gone too long without seeing May, and he hungered for her, her fat ass and jiggly tits and sweet wet pussy. Peter knew he had to see her again soon, but until then, he'd have to find some other way to satisfy himself. The door opened, and Ward walked in. "Hey, Peter," he said, and Peter looked up, excited. "Ward! Is there a new client for me?" "Yeah, but, well-" Ward looked nervous for some reason. "You remember what Coulson told you the first day, right? That you don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with?" "Uh, yeah..." said Peter, confused. "Just remember that," said Ward. "It's important not to forget that being an escort isn't all about fucking girls like Laura or Darcy or those three that came in to visit a while ago." "I know," said Peter defensively. "I had sex with that old woman, remember? I'm not just in this to get laid." Ward nodded. "Good, good. But even so- if you feel over your head, just say Red, okay? Or if you can't, do the knock." He tapped out the pattern on the bedside table, and Peter rolled his eyes. "I'm not a little kid, Ward. I can deal with this client, whoever it is." "Alright, then," said Ward, walking out of the room. "He's coming in now." Peter had barely enough time to register that, before a bald man walking in, wearing a green army jacket and looking to be about sixty years old. And if that wasn't a big enough shock for Peter- It was a man he knew. Adrian Toomes. Liz's dad. "Hey there, kid," said Adrian with a grin, looking over Peter's thin but muscular body. "I just know we're going to have lots of fun together." He doesn't recognize me, thought Peter, but that thought made him only more worried. He looked up at the cameras, reassured by the fact that he wasn't as alone as he felt. If something bad happened, Ward would be called in, and he'd keep Peter safe. "Hello, sir," said Peter shyly, intuition telling him that Toomes wanted him to act that way. "How can I help you tonight?" Toomes chuckled, coming closer to Peter, towering over him. "No need to play the virgin, kid. Working here, you must've gotten plenty of ass, right?" He leaned in close to Peter, mouth inches away from his. "Must've fucked lots of girls," he continued, breath hot on Peter's neck. "But no guys, right?" Toomes kissed Peter roughly, hands roaming down to between his thighs, groping his cock, feeling its hardness. Peter jumped back, startled. He opened his mouth, about to say Red, but something stopped him. Adrian's jacket was open, and in an inside pocket Peter could see a revolver, half concealed by shadows. Peter's throat felt dry. Toomes hadn't meant to show it, had he? But he was proven wrong when Toomes glanced down at the gun, before looking up at Peter and chuckling again. "Nothing to be afraid of, kid. I ain't gonna bite. Now come on. We don't have all day." He reached for his fly, beginning to unzip it. Peter felt like he was going to be sick. He wanted to say the word, or to knock out the code- but the older man was threatening him, it was clear now. Peter didn't want to know what would happen if he refused. Toomes pulled down his pants, his cock long and veiny and half-hard. "Your turn," he said to Peter, with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Peter took a deep breath, and unbuttoned his pants, before stepping out of them. His own dick was mostly soft, but as Adrian reached and grabbed it roughly, it gave a little twitch. "Good," laughed Toomes. "Now turn around, and bend over the bed." Peter did as he said, raising his ass up in the air submissively. His client spat down on him, the saliva cold against his flesh, before reaching down and rubbing the saliva around Peter's asshole. Peter stifled a gasp as Adrian's finger prodded at his anus, pushing its way a few inches in, before retreating. "That should do it," said Toomes, as he spat down onto his own hand, and rubbed the spit onto his cock, which soon was fully erect. When he was done, the old man rested the head of his dick against Peter's asshole. "You sure you want to do this?" asked Adrian, but Peter could feel the cold hard metal of the gun through the fabric of the coat concealing it, and he knew he didn't dare say no. "Yes," he whispered, and without further hesitation Adrian pushed his way in. And Peter screamed. It was too big. It was too big. I'm being torn apart, Peter wanted to say, but the words died in his throat. Adrian Toomes took Peter the same way Peter took his aunt. There was some irony in that, but Peter wasn't sure where. "So tight. So nice and tight." Peter closed his eyes, but though the world was nothing but blackness, he could still feel the older man's strong hands on his shoulders, holding him still, and he could still feel- it. It was like an iron rod, impaling his insides. Long and thick as a serpent. For some reason, Peter thought back to words he'd heard a while ago. In a song, maybe, or a movie. Ride the snake. It's old. And its skin is cold. "My little slut. Doris was never close to as tight as this." And all the children were insane. Waiting for the summer rain. He was lost in a fog, a fog of pain and confusion. Through the fog, only little glimpses of the real world managed to squeeze through. The breath on the back of his neck, making his hairs stand up. The sound of flesh smacking against flesh, wet and slimy. The words whispered in his ear, the voice of a monster. "So tight," it growled. "I bet she's this tight. I bet Liz is this tight." The camera looked down upon him, the blinking red lights staring at him like the eyes of God. Help me. Help me. Come on Baby. Come on Baby. Take a chance with us. "I'm your whore. I'm your naughty slut," someone said. Peter wasn't sure who. Someone screamed, and someone laughed, and someone cried. "I know you are. My little boyslut. You like this, don't you?" No. Yes. His own cock was hard, Peter knew. Maybe harder than it had ever been, even when he first fucked his aunt. The man with the voice of a monster was taking care of it, though. Reaching around and pumping it, even as he took him in the ass like a wild animal. Marking me. Making me his. Mounting me like a bitch in heat. As it should be. Visions danced in front of his eyes, shadowy specters reaching out of the fog. Father? where was his father taken from him not once but twice Yes, son? his parents both gone and then half gone again was he meant to be alone I want to kill you. not his father not him but the other one he wanted to kill him he had to kill him and kiss him and hate him and love him Mother? the mother the jocasta the madonna the eve the mary kill your father and fuck your mother and become your father thats how its always been I want to- i want to come And he did, screaming as he did, tears running down his face. His come felt like fire, burning him from the inside out, and he was glad to be rid of it. Toomes did too, filling Peter up, so much that if he was a woman he would've certainly been impregnated, but Peter didn't even feel it. Nor did he feel it when Toomes gave him a kiss of the top of the head, or when he said to him "See you again sometime, kid," or when Ward walked in after Adrian was gone, and put a hand on his shoulder. "That was good, Peter. You did good." He left too, though Peter wasn't aware of that either. The room, the Compound, the city, the world, they had all faded away. There was just Peter, cold and alone, asshole sore and bloody and filled with another man's come, dick flaccid and coated in his own. With the cameras watching over him. Keeping him safe. ***** Appreciate Your Concern ***** Chapter Notes Title from "Rape Me" by Nirvana. Wake up. Brush your teeth. Get dressed. Kiss your aunt goodbye, and when she touches your penis squeeze her backside. Miss the bus. Run to school. Listen to Ned talk about Star Wars. Teachers ask you a question, give the answer. Liz glares at you, ignore her. Flash trips you in the halls. Get up and walk away. Listen to Ned talk about Batman. Teachers ask you a question, give the answer. Take the quiz. Eat your lunch. Betty exposes her breasts for you again. Walk past her. Liz cries under the stairwell. Ignore her. May texts you a picture of her private parts. Ignore it. Listen to Ned talk about Doctor Who. The bell rings. Leave the school. Michelle says something. Ignore her. Michelle says it again, standing in your way as you try to walk home. Brush past her. Michelle grabs your arm. Michelle asks if you're alright. "Yeah," said Peter. "I'm fine." Her face scrunched up in concern. "You sure?" "Yeah," said Peter. "I'm fine." He turned, walking away. She stood there, looking at him, wanting to follow. But she didn't. May is waiting for you. She is wearing translucent white lingerie. She kisses you. Kiss her back. Your aunt kisses her way down your chest, until she reaches your penis. She touches it, moving it around. She wants you to become erect. Wants it desperately. You pity her. She becomes frustrated, but tries to hide it. She tells you it's nothing to be ashamed of. She's still angry, though. You should care, but you don't. Go in your room. Do your homework. Read the questions. Figure out the answers. When you're done, you get a text. Michelle wants to know if you're alright. She says that you've been acting odd. Peter looks at the text. His fingers hover over the keys, trying to think of a response. He can't, so he shuts off his phone. Get a text from Liz. She apologizes for acting the way she did. Invites you to go swimming with her and her friends. Her friends are all idiots. You don't respond. When night has fallen, go into bed. Close your eyes. Fall asleep. Peter was standing out in the desert, during a rainstorm. Lightning flashed, as dark shapes flew down. As they got closer, Peter saw they were birds of prey, with long curved talons and a hungry look in their eyes. Peter tried to run, but he lost his footing, and he fell. He hit his head on a rock, and Peter suddenly found he couldn't move. His eyes stared out helplessly at the birds surrounding him, while a puddle of blood formed around his head. The birds tore at him with their claws and beaks, ripping away his flesh. He wanted to scream, wanted to cry out. I'm not dead. I'm not dead. But you might as well have been. When you wake up, there is a wet spot on your sheets. You feel sick, thinking that you had peed yourself, and are only more disgusted when you realize it is come. You walk to the bathroom. You turn on the lights. I lift up the toilet seat. I double over. I vomit. My cock is so hard it hurts. My Aunt May wakes up. She sees my erection, and smiles, taking it in her mouth. When that doesn't work, she tells you to fuck her pussy. You do, and she comes. You don't. Go back to bed. Fall asleep. Have another dream. He sat in the car with his uncle. His uncle says I'm sorry. He says It isn't your fault. His uncle says I know but still. I'm sorry. He says I'll be okay. His uncle says Are you sure. He says no. His uncle says You're right though. You'll be okay. He says How do you know. His uncle says Remember. Adrian Toomes sat on his couch. He had just vomited in the bathroom. His cock was hard. He opened the fridge. Had a beer. Had another. Doris walked in. "Liz isn't home," she said, and pulled open her night gown. Adrian looked at her in disgust. Still, he was horny, and she was there. He took her from behind on the couch. He thought of Liz. When he finally finished, he pulled out without a word. Adrian walked to the bathroom. He looked at his daughter's Instagram account. She had gone swimming with her friends. There's a picture of her with some skinny Indian kid. Adrian ignored it. Another picture, of her and a friend in their bathing suits. The friend was flat-chested, but cute in a young sort of way. Liz was beautiful, with her long lack hair and full, firm breasts. Adrian smiled as he began to touch himself. He saw that she has covered up her black eye with copious amounts of make-up, and felt a twinge of guilt. Still, his father had always taught him that insolence must be punished. And that girl was insolent. Insolent and beautiful. He looked at the next picture. Liz was topless. She covered her nipples with her pointer fingers. But her breasts were fully visible, and Adrian came to it. When he finished, he wiped off his sweaty forehead with a towel. He left the bathroom, and walked towards his bedroom. Adrian wanted to get a good night's sleep, and forget all about everything that had happened the past few days. He knew he wouldn't be able to. Adrian Toomes opened his bedroom door, then closed it. He reached for the light switch, before stopping. He turned. "Why?" asked Adrian. But he knew. And then the gun fired. ***** Nothing Seems To Fit ***** Chapter Notes Title from "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head" by BJ Thomas. When Peter woke up the next morning, he felt different. Not normal again, not even close, but the fog had lifted. His head was clear. He walked past his aunt, lying sound asleep on the floor, half undressed and covered in come. He supposed he had fucked her the previous night, though he didn't entirely remember. Peter walked to school instead of taking the bus that day. It gave him a chance to get some exercise, and he thought the fresh air might do him some good. When he entered the school, Michelle cornered him immediately, looking worried. "Peter. What the hell is going on? I texted you like a thousand times last night. Are you okay?" "Yeah," lied Peter. "I'm okay." She didn't look convinced, so he laughed, trying to make it seem like her concern was ridiculous. "Seriously. I just had a bad day. I'm fine now." Michelle nodded, though Peter didn't think that she completely believed him. "I've got to get to class," he said, pushing past her. Peter hoped that the school day would just be normal. But his hopes were ruined when he walked into the History Classroom and saw that Liz's seat was empty. Peter turned to Betty, who was sitting next to the empty chair. "Where's Liz?" he asked, and Betty glared at him. "You didn't hear?" she replied incredulously, and Peter shook his head. Betty looked around to make sure no one was listening, then leaned forward and whispered to him. "Liz's dad died last night. It looks like it was robbery gone wrong or something." Peter stared at her silently, not believing her at first. Then, unable to help himself, he started to laugh, barely able to turn it into a cough before Betty noticed. "That, um-" he said, clearing his throat. "That's awful. So Liz is going to be staying home for a while?" Betty shook her head. "Peter, Liz isn't coming back. She and her mom are moving to Oregon." Peter nodded slowly. "Okay. Yeah, that- that makes sense. Do you think... do you think I should go see her? Say goodbye?" "I don't think she wants to see you." "Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense." Peter turned to go, but stopped suddenly, turning back to Betty. "So, uh, Mr. Toomes... how'd he die?" Betty looked at him like he was insane, but she answered anyway. "He was shot. Shot in the chest." "Okay. Uh, thanks. Listen, I have to go to the bathroom." "Class is about to start!" Betty reminded him, but Peter was already halfway out the door. He went back into the stall with the graffiti. The woman being fucked by a dozen crude stick figures. Peter grinned, imagining Adrian Toomes with a bloody hole in his chest, and he started to laugh. He laughed and laughed and laughed until he couldn't laugh anymore, and then he screamed and cried and slammed his fist into the stall door until his knuckles bled. "Fuck!" shouted Peter, kicking the toilet as hard as he could, before doubling over, groaning in pain, grabbing his toe. He slowly collapsed to the floor, sobbing, feeling like he was about to vomit. "You deserved it. You bastard. You fucking bastard." What an idiot he'd been. He realized then for the first time that something like this had been inevitable. A sixteen year old virgin signing up as a prostitute. What did he think would happen? "I can't do this anymore," he muttered, tears streaming down his face. "I can't- oh God." It was a long time before Peter regained his composure. School went by like it normally did, though Liz's absence made him feel guilty for some reason. He wasn't sure how he felt about never seeing her again. It didn't make him happy, certainly, but in a strange way it felt fitting. Like the end of one chapter, and the beginning of the next. When the school day was over, Peter headed towards the Compound. Ward escorted him in, keeping silent, not even attempting small-talk, and Peter couldn't help but wonder if he knew more than he seemed. Peter sat in Coulson's office. Coulson looked at him, a serious expression on his face. "I've been thinking recently," began Peter, "And I've made a decision. I want-" "You want to quit," finished Coulson. "Yeah. I know." "You- You know? How?" "Whenever someone says 'I've been thinking recently, and I've made a decision,' it's never a good sign. I expected this. And I understand completely." "No," said Peter. "You don't understand. I just-" His voice cracked, making feel even more like a stupid little teen than he normally did. "I just can't deal with this any longer. It's not what I expected, and- I'm done." Coulson nodded. "Okay. You can say goodbye to anyone you want, but when you leave you can't come back, unless it's as a client. Understand?" "Yeah. That's fine. I wasn't planning on coming back." "Alright. I'll send you your last few paychecks in the mail. You can expect them by the end of the month. That's it, though. There's no paperwork or anything. You can just go." "Oh. Okay, good." With nothing else to say, Peter stood up, heading for the door, but Coulson called after him. "I'm sorry, Peter." "About what?" asked Peter, turning back. "You know what." In the halls of the Compound, Peter tried to think if there was anyone he wanted to say goodbye to. Pietro was his roommate, but he spent more time in Wanda's room than his own, and Peter almost never actually saw him. Peter thought that he might miss Laura, but thinking back on his encounter with her he realized that he had no desire to see her again. In fact, he didn't want to see any of them again. But as he was about to step out the door and leave the Compound forever, someone shouted his name. "Hey! Peter!" Peter turned, and saw Sharon, wearing her white lingerie once again. "What is it?" he asked, and Sharon's grin faltered. "I, uh, I don't know," she said, confused. "I just saw you leaving and I thought I should say something. Are you- are you leaving forever?" "Yeah. I am." When he said it, Peter found that he was completely sure of it. He was never going to come back. And he was glad. "Well... good luck out there," said Sharon, and Peter nodded, smiling. He left the white doors of the Compound, went up the winding stairs, and walked out of the warehouse. Outside, it was raining, but he didn't mind. When he got home, May was waiting for him, completely undressed but for a black dog collar. She sat on all fours down on the floor, holding a leash in her mouth. Peter looked at her, and felt bad for her, somehow. "I'm sorry," he told her. "Not tonight." She spat out the leash, getting to her feet. "Fine. Then why don't I find someone else to fuck me?" Before, that would've made Peter jealous, and he would've felt the need to take her once again just to teach her a lesson. But now... "No. Not tonight." Peter walked into his room and shut the door. He could hear May storming out of the apartment, and he knew she was looking for someone to have sex with. But he didn't feel angry about that. In truth, he didn't even blame her. Peter's phone buzzed, and he looked down at the new message he got from Michelle. You okay? He hesitated, then typed a response. No. Not really. After a moment's pause, Peter clicked send. A couple of seconds later, he got another message. Want to talk about it? My house in a half hour. Peter smiled a little. Sure, he texted back. See you there, replied Michelle. Yeah. See you. Peter got ready to go, not thinking about his aunt being fucked by another man, not thinking about the girl of his dreams moving halfway across the country, not even thinking about Toomes. Michelle was waiting for him. Everything else seemed strangely distant. Not forgotten, but less important. Though he wasn't sure, something told him that that part of his life was over. Like the end of one chapter, he thought again. And the beginning of the next. ***** When The Truth Is Found ***** Chapter Notes Title from "Somebody To Love" by Jefferson Airplane. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Toomes." Detective Bruce Banner looked at the pale body lying on the table. He had always thought that, when dead, people just looked like they were asleep. But Adrian Toomes didn't look asleep. He looked dead. "What do we know so far?" asked Banner to his partner, Detective Rhodes. "Uh, let's see..." Rhodes flipped through the stack of papers he was holding. "Adrian Clifton Toomes, age 66. Shot in the chest at point blank range by what appears to be a Smith and Wesson M&P, based on the size and shape of the wound. He was found on his bedroom floor by his wife of sixteen years, Doris Allan. She was asleep when it happened, or so she claims, and the shot woke her up. By the time she reached the bedroom, Toomes was dead, and the killer was gone. The window was broken, and some valuable were stolen, though it seems unlikely to me that this was a standard robbery." Banner nodded in agreement. "Any other known associates or affiliates? He had a daughter, right?" "Well, a step-daughter. Elizabeth Allan. She was out of the house at the time, swimming with some friends. We have several eyewitness testimonies to back that up. And he had an ex-wife, but she died in '89 of natural causes. As far as people with a possible motive, Toomes was the foreman of a construction crew, consisting of himself, Phineas Mason, Jackson Brice, and Herbert Schultz. All have several past arrests, for a variety of crimes and misdemeanors, ranging from petty theft to sexual misconduct. It's possible they had some kind of disagreement that escalated into them wanting him dead. Officers Barnes and Blonsky are trying to bring them in, but it seems like either they left town, or they're trying really hard not to be found." "What about Toomes himself? What's his criminal record?" Rhodes picked up a sheet of paper from a file, and whistled, eyes wide. "Wow. Where do we start? Drunken Disorderly, Assault and Battery, Public Intoxication, Sexual Harassment, Sexual Solicitation... The guy's been arrested two dozen times in the past five decades." "So it could've been one of his crew members, it could've been his wife... You said his daughter had an air-tight alibi?" "Yeah. She was away when it happened, pictures posted by her and her friends on some social networking platforms prove it. I looked at some of the pictures, and she had a nasty looking black eye." "You think-?" asked Detective Banner, and his partner nodded. "So maybe," said Banner slowly, "Toomes has been abusive towards his step- daughter. Maybe they had a big argument or something a few days ago, and he hit her. And maybe his wife decided to do something about it." "That seems possible," agreed Rhodes. "I'll have Officer Barnes go pick her up. Maybe further questioning could reveal some holes in her story. But remember, Bruce. People like Toomes... live a dangerous life, and sooner or later your luck runs out, and your mistakes catch up with you. Sometimes there's nothing we can do but chalk it away as another unsolved case." Banner laughed, but his eyes were serious. "So you think we should just forget about it? Not even try to catch the killer?" "That's not what I meant," said Rhodes carefully. "I'm just thinking... there are some people this world is better without." "Yeah. Okay. Why don't you go send in Selvig, I want to talk with him a bit more about his findings." Detective Rhodes walked out of the room, and as he did he was aware that Banner was staring at him. He found Selvig, the coroner, and sent him to the autopsy room, before walking out of the building. The hooded man was waiting for him on the building's steps. Rhodes sat next to him, looking out ahead at the crowds of people walking down the streets, waiting. Finally, the hooded man spoke. "You didn't tell him the truth, did you?" Rhodes shook his head. "Of course not. It's better this way. He thinks the wife did it." "Don't worry. It'll be obvious from talking to her some more that she's innocent. Doris Allan loved her husband, in spite of everything he's done." "It doesn't make any sense, does it?" "Not everything does. That's just life. Sorry for making you lie to Banner. I know you respect him." "It's fine," replied Rhodes. "You're right. It's for the best." "Thank you, James. I owe you a lot." "It's fine. Really. I should get going now. Chief Ross wants to talk to me about the situation down in the Bronx. People turning up with injuries all over their body and no idea what caused them." "Right. Keep me updated on that, okay?" "Sure. See you later." "Have a good afternoon, James. Remember, the worst is behind us." "If only," laughed Rhodes, as he climbed back up the stairs, the hooded man watching him go with his one good eye. ***** You Say You Want A Leader ***** Chapter Notes Title from "Purple Rain" by Prince. KILLGRAVE WAS HERE Peggy Carter stared intently at the graffiti scrawled on the side of the shop in purple paint. The name sounded familiar, though as hard as she tried she couldn't remember where from. She was so focused that she didn't even realize that someone was standing right behind here until they spoke. "Intriguing, isn't it?" Peggy whirled around, startled, accidentally swinging her grocery bags into the stranger's waist, knocking him off balance. "Oh my god!" she cried out, dropping her bags and running to him. "I'm so, so sorry!" He looked up at her, at first clearly angry, but when he saw her face he smiled. "It's no problem, no problem at all. I shouldn't have snuck up on you like that." "It's- It's fine," she stammered out, blushing. The stranger stood up straight, still smiling. He was tall, taller than Peggy by about half a foot, and slender. His hair was dark and styled, and he wore an expensive looking suit. "I see you too have noticed the graffiti. I've been wondering about it for months." "Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. 'Killgrave was here.' I wonder who Killgrave is." "It sounds like a grunge band," he joked, and she laughed. "Yeah, it's weird. I bet it was just some stupid kid trying to seem cool. I mean, Killgrave? How edgy can you get? Was Murdercorpse taken?" The stranger chuckled, extending a hand. "I'm Kevin, by the way. It's good to finally meet someone with a similar interest in perplexing graffiti." She took his hand, shaking it. "Nice to meet you, Kevin. I'm Peggy." Kevin raised her hand, planting a kiss on it, and Peggy giggled. If it had been anybody else, she would've found it creepy and weird, but for some reason with him it felt normal. "You know, Peggy, I've seen graffiti like this all over the city. In fact, I've started a sort of log to write down all the places I've found it. I'd like to show you it sometime." "Okay, yeah! That sounds interesting, actually." "Excellent," said Kevin with a grin. "How about dinner tonight? Shall we say 6: 00?" "Oh, um... I'm sorry, that kinds of sounds like a date." "Well, it would be, wouldn't it?" asked Kevin, clearly perplexed. "The thing is... you're a nice guy, Kevin, but I'm going out with someone already." If Kevin was disappointed, he didn't show it. Instead, he nodded. "Of course. I'm sorry, it was silly of me to think that a woman as attractive as you wouldn't have a boyfriend." "That's very nice of you," said Peggy, turning red. "But it's a girlfriend, actually." "Well, if you want," offered Kevin, "She could come to. Any woman who was able to win your heart must truly be one worth knowing." "Alright, sure," agreed Peggy. "I'd love to." As she talked, she realized that she had spent whole conversation pushing her chest out, drawing attention to her breasts. Embarrassed, Peggy pulled her jacket over her breasts, covering them. But Kevin hadn't glanced at them once, seemingly not noticing. "Wonderful. I'd love to meet her sometime. It was great meeting you, Peggy." "You too," she said, before heading off down the street. Unbeknownst to her, Kevin's eyes remained glued to her backside until she was out of sight. When she was gone, he smiled again, but instead of seemingly kind and polite, this smile was more like the hungry grin of a wolf. Kevin turned to the graffiti, written in purple on the wall, and scowled. "Those stupid gits can't even spell it right," he mumbled to himself. "There's just one L. One L!" Sharon Carter lay on the couch at their apartment, thinking back to her strange encounter with the boy named Peter. She still wasn't sure why she felt the urge to say something to him, or how she knew that he was quitting forever and not just going home for the day. The door opened, interrupting Sharon's thoughts, and she looked up to see her aunt and lover enter. "Peggy," she said, sitting up. "I thought you were getting groceries." "What? Oh, uh, yeah," said Peggy, looking down at her empty hands as if surprised that she wasn't holding anything. "Yeah, I forgot." "Peggy, come on! I wanted to spend some time with you. Now one of us has to go back out-" Peggy interrupted her with a kiss. Their tongues wrestled for a moment, Sharon sliding her hands up Peggy's body and grabbing her breasts, before suddenly breaking away. "Wait, Peggy. I'm serious. I have to talk with you-" Peggy kissed her again, rougher this time. She pushed Sharon down onto her back, climbing onto her. "I'm not joking," shouted Sharon, but Peggy ignored her, squeezing and pinching her breasts with one hand as the other reached between Sharon's thighs, rubbing against her pussy. "Shut your pretty little mouth," ordered Peggy, "Unless you're using it to beg." Sharon writhed underneath her, but Peggy pinned her down, slipping a finger into her panties. She was dry, but Peggy knew that she could soon fix that, taking one of Sharon's nipples between her teeth and biting softly- "Peggy, stop!" Sharon leapt off the couch, breaking free from Peggy's grasp. Peggy looked up at her, angry and horny, as Sharon pulled on her coat and headed towards the door. "Wait!" shouted Peggy desperately. "Where are you going!" Her niece ignored her, slamming the door, leaving Peggy alone, sweaty and wet and turned on and close to tears. Sharon wiped away her own tears as she ran down the stairs, stumbling out into the street. She stopped a taxi, and told the driver to take her to Kirby Street. When she got to the Compound, her room was empty. Wanda was away once again, probably with Pietro or Laura and Clint. Sharon threw herself down on the bed, sobbing, feeling like she was going to throw up. The door suddenly burst open, and Wanda and Pietro ran in, half-dressed and giggly. They stopped when they saw Sharon, their smiles fading instantly. "Are you all right, Sharon?" asked Wanda, and Sharon nodded, wiping away her tears. "We'll go back to my room," said Pietro, "Leave you alo-" "No!" Sharon blurted out, immediately feeling embarrassed. "I- I mean... You shouldn't have to leave on my account." Pietro looked at his sister, clearly unsure, but Wanda smiled knowingly. "In that case..." She threw her arms around Pietro's neck, pulling him into a passionate kiss. Sharon rolled over on the bed, turning away from them, blushing crimson. Pietro grabbed Wanda's plump ass, giving it a few light smacks. Wanda moaned into his mouth, jumping into the air and wrapping her long legs around his waist. One hand on her back, Pietro slowly lowered her onto the pile of mattresses on which she slept, before putting his hands on his shoulders and flipping her over. Sharon closed her eyes, trying to ignore them. She knew she should leave, go back home and make up with Peggy, but she couldn't move. Wanda's moans filled the room, drowning out any rational thoughts, and they were soon followed by the schlicking-sound of the girl being fucked by her twin brother. I'm getting wet, Sharon realized. Her pussy was soaked, and it occurred to her that despite the copious amounts of sex she had been having with Peggy recently, it had been Wanda and Sam who had made her the most aroused. So much for belonging to Peggy alone, she thought as she absentmindedly reached for her pussy, sliding two fingers into the wet folds. "Fuck me, Pietro!" Wanda screamed, as her twin took her from behind, hard and fast. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" Sharon began to massage one breast while she played with herself. Her nipples were hard, and she tweaked them through the fabric of her shirt. "Ooh, like that, Pietro! Just like that!" "Just like that," whispered Sharon, eyes scrunched shut, as she added a third finger into her cunt. She imagined it was Wanda playing with her, bringing her so close to orgasm, so lost in her fantasy that she didn't even notice that the sounds of sex had stopped around her. "Almost there..." She was moments away from finishing when she felt a soft, warm, wet pair of lips move down to meet her own. Sharon reciprocated the kiss without thinking, and when she realized what was happening her eyes flew open to see Wanda bending down over her, kissing her passionately. Sharon jerked her head away, sitting up quickly, while Wanda and Pietro watched her from the side of the bed, both completely nude. Wanda's naked body was nothing new to Sharon, but the sight still made her blush. And Pietro was lean but muscular, with an erection that Sharon couldn't tear her eyes away from. "What are you doing...?" she asked nervously, and Wanda smiled. "You were the one who invited us in here, Sharon. Don't act like you're so surprised." "I'm-I'm with Peggy," protested Sharon, but Pietro looked down at her soaked pants and hard nipples pointedly. "Then why," he asked, "isn't she here?" The two twins stepped forward, cornering her. Wanda climbed into the bed, crawling closer to Sharon, kissing her again. Sharon hesitated at first, but soon her arousal washed out anything else, and she returned the kiss. "Mmmm..." moaned Wanda, as with one sudden movement she pulled off the blonde's tank top, leaving her topless. Then Pietro was there at her side, and he leaned in and kissed her breasts, hands moving between her thighs as he did. The man's lips wrapped around a nipple, sucking on it like an infant, before biting down unexpectedly. "Oh!" gasped Sharon, and with a laugh Wanda leapt onto her, knocking her down onto the bed. Lying on top of her, Wanda kissed Sharon again, grabbing her breasts and fondling them roughly, fingernails biting into them. "I've waited so long for this," said Wanda with a smirk, and she climbed off of Sharon, standing up straight over her. Sharon looked up at Wanda's cute little pussy, so enthralled she didn't notice Pietro pulling off her pants and panties, leaving her as nude as they were. "Open wide," Wanda ordered, lowering herself down onto Sharon. Her cunt pushed against Sharon's mouth, and Sharon didn't hesitate to dive in, licking and sucking and kissing it. It was the sweetest thing she'd ever tasted, sweeter than even Peggy- A flicker of doubt entered Sharon's mind as she thought about Peggy, alone in their apartment, probably crying her eyes out. She wondered if she should call this off, head home, and- "OH!" Sharon suddenly screamed, the sound muffled by Wanda's cunt, as Pietro's hard cock penetrated her pussy. With his hands on her hips, he began to fuck her, and the pain soon gave way to pleasure. "You're so pretty like this," cooed Wanda, as she rolled her hips, grinding her sex into Sharon's mouth. Sharon's face was flushed and covered in sweat, her eyes closed, her cheeks and chin soaked in Wanda's juices. "She is, isn't she?" agreed Pietro, staring down at the naked body trembling underneath him as he thrusted into it. "I'm not sure why we waited so long..." As Sharon ate out Wanda, the twin reached up and began playing with one of her own breasts, circling a thumb around the nipple. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back, while Sharon pleasured her sloppily. "You're close, aren't you, Wanda?" asked Pietro, but it was clear that he was close as well. "Y-Yeah..." gasped out Wanda. "At the same time, brother?" "Always, sister." With one last thrust, Pietro came, his come splattering deep into Sharon's pussy, and Wanda screamed as she orgasmed, juices squirting from her cunt, flooding Sharon's mouth. "Sharon!" she shouted out, face bright scarlet. "Oh, Sharon!" Outside the door, Peggy Carter stood silently, listening to her niece being fucked. Then she turned, and walked away. Natasha sat in front of the mirror in her bedroom, applying black eye shadow carefully. When Peggy walked in, she smiled, not the least bit surprised. "Hello, Peggy. I thought this was your day off?" she asked casually, setting down her make-up. "It is," admitted Peggy, "But I had to see you." "I know," said Natasha softly. "Now, why don't we get a good look at you?" She glanced down at Peggy's breasts, straining against her tight tank top. "Wait. I- I don't know-" began Peggy, but Natasha interrupted her. "Shhh. You know why you came here. There's no reason to act so reluctant. Show me." Peggy had always been more dominant, and there was nothing she loved better than to have Sharon on all fours for her, but when Natasha gave her orders, she felt a twinge of arousal. "Y-Yes." "Yes, Mistress," corrected Natasha, and Peggy felt herself growing wet. "Yes, Mistress," she said, as she pulled her tank top over her head, before bending down and stepping out of her sweat pants and panties. Peggy looked at Natasha, blushing. "There's no need to be afraid, little one. You are beautiful. So beautiful." She took one of Peggy's breasts in her hand, moving it up and down, smiling at the way it jiggled. When she was done, the Russian reached behind Peggy and grabbed her ass with both hands, squeezing the soft flesh. "A bit plump, yes, but I like my girls with a bit of meat on their bones. You'll do just fine." "Please," begged Peggy. "Just- Just fuck me. Fuck me." Natasha smirked, clearly enjoying her submission. "Get down on all fours," she ordered, and Peggy did so immediately, sticking her ass up in the air like a bitch in heat waiting to be mounted. Natasha laughed when she saw how quickly Peggy would debase herself. Reaching into the closet, she took out a black leather boot with long heels, pulling it on. "I'm not asking you to give me a fashion show," said Peggy impatiently. "I want you to fuck me." "All in good time," said Natasha with a smirk. "All in good time." Peggy was about to protest more, but she suddenly felt the cold plastic heel against her asscheek, and she stopped. "What- What are you doing?" asked Peggy nervously. "Fucking you," replied Natasha, as with one smooth movement she slid the heel into Peggy's soaked pussy. Peggy screamed, the pain washing over her. She clenched her teeth, closing her eyes tightly, trying to fight past it, but it was too much. "Fuck!" she blurted out, finally breaking. "You fucking bitch! You- You cunt!" "Tell me to stop," said Natasha. "Tell me to stop, and I swear I will. All you have to do is say it." Peggy opened her mouth, but no words came out. She tried as hard as she could, but for some reason she couldn't form the words. The pain was stopping her from thinking clearly, she reasoned, and maybe it was true, but there was something else. "That's what I thought." Natasha twisted her foot, turning the heel inside of Peggy. She let out another scream, but this one was as much out of arousal as it was out of agony. "Tell me you're enjoying this," ordered Natasha, and Peggy shook her head desperately. "No. I won't. I won't..." "Tell me. Or I'll stop." Peggy wanted to sob at the unfairness of it all. But she knew she didn't have a choice. "You bitch... I'm enjoying this. I'm enjoying it. Does that make you happy!?" "Yes, actually," replied Natasha, and with a kick of her leg she rammed the heel deeper into Peggy. That was all she could take. Peggy came, crying as she did. When she was done, Natasha pulled the heel out from within her, and circled around her, until Peggy's tear-streaked face was directly above the leather boots that caused her so much pain and pleasure. "You know what to do," said Natasha, and to Peggy's disgust, she did. Natasha raised her foot a bit above the ground, lining up perfectly with Peggy's mouth, and Peggy leaned her head in. She licked the leather of the shoe until it was shiny and clean, choking back sobs as she did. When she was done with the top, Natasha raised her foot up higher, pointing the come-soaked heel towards Peggy's mouth. "That's a good slut," laughed Natasha, as Peggy took the heel in her mouth, sucking it like she would a dick. Her juices tasted sweet, and soon Peggy forgot all about her pain and humiliation, and instead licked the come off the heel eagerly. Natasha smirked down at her, finding the sight of the buxom girl submitting so totally to her immensely satisfying. Peggy wrapped her hands around Natasha's heel, pushing the heel deeper into her mouth, fellating it with far more enthusiasm than she ever had an actual cock. Her mind drifted to what Natasha would do to her when she was finished... Maybe she'd get a reward for cleaning it so well. Or maybe she'd be punished for missing a spot. Either prospect seemed equally exciting. When Peggy was done and the boot was spotless, Natasha bent down and pat her head. "Good girl," she said, and Peggy felt a strange rush of pride. "You're even more of a whore than I thought." "Thank you, Mistress Natasha. Thank you so much. Please, do whatever you wish to me. Anything at all." The redhead grinned predatorily, a hungry look in her eyes, and Peggy braced herself for whatever she was about to do. But Natasha didn't do anything. She sat back down on her chair, crossing her legs, frowning. "Go, then." Peggy giggled nervously. "I'm sorry?" "Leave. Now." "But I- I did what you wanted! I want- I deserve to be fucked!" But Natasha simply shook her head. "Bitch!" shouted Peggy, close to crying, jumping to her feet. "Slut! You goddamn bitch, you-" "Enough," said Natasha quietly, and Peggy instantly silenced. "You will go now. I did what I wanted with you. I'm done." "I'm not!" Peggy raised a hand, ready to slap her, but Natasha struck first, hitting her hard enough to split her lip. Peggy stumbled back, blood trickling down her lip. "Again," she begged, disgusting herself. "Hit me again." "No. You need to go now. I'm not going to toy with you any longer." "I want you to! I'm begging you to!" "This isn't what you want, Peggy. Go. Please. I won't ask you again." Peggy wiped the tears from her face, gathering up her clothes and dressing herself without a word. Then she was out the door, down the hallway, up the stairs, through the warehouse entrance, and on the streets. Peggy knew her hair was in tangles, her eye liner was running with tears, and her chin was coated in congealed blood, but she didn't care. She just wanted to be away from that place, that awful place, and away from Sharon too. "Peggy? Is that you?" Peggy turned, startled, and smiled when she saw who it was. "Yeah," she answered. "What are you doing here? I thought-" "Are you okay? You look awful." "I had a rough night..." said Peggy, trying to laugh it off. "I know that feeling. Want a beer?" "Sure," she said with a smile, taking the beer gratefully and taking a swig. Peggy wiped her mouth when she was done, and eyed the person standing in front of her. "You want to come over to my place?" she asked, hoping that the blood on her face didn't detract from her skills at flirting. "Definitely. Here, I'll drive." Peggy walked towards the door of the black SUV, but as she did she suddenly stumbled, barely being caught in time. "Thanks," she giggled, loving the feel of the strong warm arms around her, beginning to grow wet. "Now why don't you stop waiting and fuck me already..." Peggy's head was swimming. Despite coming only a few minutes ago, she was hornier than she could remember being in a very long time. She felt light- headed, and around her the traffic lights began to spin, circling her like a halo of red and yellow and green. The back door to the SUV was opened, and Peggy felt herself being slowly lowered down onto the leather seats. Her arousal was gone, replaced by a sudden, unbearable exhaustion. The last thing she remembered before the world went dark was the words muttered above her into a small black radio. "Yeah, it's me. Don't worry, Kilgrave. I have her." ***** Breaks Just Like A Little Girl ***** Chapter Notes Title from "Just Like A Woman" by Bob Dylan. Lying on her big feather bed, with a naked Maximoff twin on either side of her, Sharon Carter decided that this was the happiest she'd ever been. That thought worried her, and made her feel terribly ashamed, but she couldn't deny its truth. Her aunt had first claimed her when she was still just a child, and she'd gone a decade without being with anyone else. And now that she had... Have I fallen out of love with Peggy, Sharon asked herself, or was I never really in love with her? Can a child truly know what love is? Either way, it didn't really matter. As far as Sharon was confirmed, whatever once existed between her and Peggy was long gone. All she could think about now was Wanda's soft, supple body, and Pietro's hard cock. "Wake up," Sharon whispered to the brunette lying at her left. She shook the girl a little, and Wanda's eyes fluttered open. The twin grinned when she saw the hungry expression on Sharon's face, and leaned in to kiss her. The door slammed open, and Sharon looked away from Wanda to see Natasha strolling in purposefully. She tore the blankets off the three lovers, and pulled Sharon out of bed roughly. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" shrieked Wanda shrilly, waking up a disorientated Pietro, but Natasha simply glared in her direction, and after a brief face-off, Wanda averted her gaze, blushing red. Natasha turned back to a confused and angry Sharon, picking her clothes off the ground and handing them to her. "Go," said Natasha sternly. "Peggy needs you." "Not to be impolite," said Sharon, "but I really don't give a fuck. As far as I'm concerned, she can-" Natasha cut her off with a kiss, and Sharon moaned into her mouth as Wanda glared at them with envy. After a few moments, Natasha broke off the kiss, rolling her eyes at the dumb- founded Sharon. "You really are related. Listen, Cheryl-" "Sharon." "That's what I said. You need to go to your aunt, now. She is lost and confused, and if you don't intervene she'll do something she might regret." "I told you, I don't care." But even as she said it, Sharon remembered Peggy waiting outside her house in the dead of night, to rescue her from her boring, uninteresting life. "We both know that isn't true. When Peggy came to me, begging to be fucked, I could tell she wasn't-" "When she what?" asked Sharon, face growing red in rage. "-I could tell she wasn't happy. And even when I made her come, I knew it was you she-" Sharon slammed her fist into Natasha's nose, breaking it. The redhead stumbled back, smiling triumphantly through the river of blood flowing over her mouth. "Told you," she said, and Sharon knew suddenly that Natasha was right. "I have to go." Sharon ran out of the room, the reality of everything that she had done beginning to sink in. "Peggy!" Sharon shouted as she ran up the stairs, bursting out of the warehouse. She had no idea where Peggy was, but she knew she had to find her. She had so much to say... "Peggy's gone," said a voice from the shadows, and Sharon gasped, before seeing who it was. "Phil! What are you doing out here? And what do you mean, Peggy's gone? Gone where?" Phil Coulson walked out of the shadows, a worried look in his face. "Not gone. Taken. The security cameras saw the whole thing, except for who did it." Sharon giggled nervously. "What are you talking about, Phil? This- This is a joke, right?" Her smile slipped away, and Sharon felt like she was about to scream. "Tell me you're joking," she demanded, her whole body shaking. But Phil just shook his head. "We'll find her. I swear to God, Sharon, whoever did this will pay. They won't get away with-" Sharon ran to Phil with tears in her eyes, wrapping her arms around him, and he put a hand on her back soothingly, only to pull away when she curled her hands up into fists and began beating them against his chest "You were supposed to keep us safe!" she sobbed, hitting him again and again, Phil not bothering to defend himself. "You- Oh, fuck! Oh fucking Christ. What- What the hell am I going to do without her?" Sharon stopped attacking, and instead fell to her knees, crying into her hands. Phil knelt down in front of her, holding her in his arms, trying to comfort her. "We'll find her. Don't worry. Everything's going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay." But the graffiti scrawled in purple on the brick wall opposite them said otherwise. KILGRAVE WAS HERE When Peggy woke up, she was lying on a sofa in a small grey room with a bright violet rug and no windows, a fleece blanket draped over her. She sat up slowly and rubbed her head groggily, not sure where she was or what was happening, only to scream in surprise when she saw the figure looming over her with a wicked smile. "Don't worry, Peggy," he said, and Peggy's fear turned to confusion as she realized that she recognized him. "K-Kevin? What's going on? Where are we?" "Kevin," the man sighed. "The polite, handsome stranger who came to you when you were in a time of need but was to much of a gentlemen to take advantage of you. A comforting lie, but a lie nonetheless. You can call me..." He stepped into the light, revealing his garish purple suit, his dark hair slicked back with copious amounts of gel, his wide, sadistic smile, and the syringe in his hands. "...Kilgrave!" Peggy laughed. She hadn't meant to, but it just came out. The man she knew as Kevin snarled, and quick as a whip his hand lashed out, hitting her hard in the face. Peggy fell back onto the couch, stunned, and he tore the blanket off her. She felt a sudden terror when she saw that she was in nothing but her underwear, her little black bra and tight panties barely concealing her. "There, that's better," said Kilgrave, and with Peggy still frozen from fear, he reached out and roughly grabbed one of her large round breasts, shaking it around, her pale flesh quivering. Peggy could see his cock growing hard underneath his pants, as he looked down at her with hunger in his eyes. "Now turn over and lie still," he said, brandishing the syringe full of a strange purple liquid, "and this will only hurt a bit." Finally getting a hold of herself, Peggy thrashed around, screaming out for help, while Kilgrave grabbed her arms, yanking her off the bed and to the ground. She tried to push herself up, but he grabbed her waist, holding her still as he rammed the syringe into her asscheek. "There, there," Kilgrave said, as he emptied the syringe into her veins. Peggy had given up struggling, and instead lay there helplessly, sobbing quietly. When he was done, Kilgrave pulled out the syringe and put it on a small wooden table at the end of the couch. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" "Go fuck yourself," said Peggy between panicked gasps for air, and Kilgrave giggled childishly. "Believe me, I would if I could. For now, though..." He reached down and unzipped his fly, pulling out his hard cock. Peggy found that despite her best efforts, she couldn't look away. "Like what you see, do you?" he asked as he absentmindedly played with his dick, stroking it softly. "You don't need to feel ashamed. The sight of me in all my glory is enough to make any woman go gaga... especially after they've gotten a taste of my little concoction. Tell me, Peggy, how do you feel?" "Horny," she replied automatically, before suddenly realizing that it was true. Despite the complete and total lack of sexiness to anything that was happening, her panties were soaked, and her nipples were beginning to harden. "I know you are. And tell me, why are you horny?" "Because of you," she said, unable to help it. Peggy tried to move, tried to run, but her entire body felt numb. And her head... something was wrong with her head... Kilgrave smirked, bending down and putting a hand underneath her chin, moving her face up until she was looking up at him. The bright fluorescent lights behind him were beginning to change color, becoming a shimmering indigo. Peggy stared up at them, transfixed. She was so mesmerized she barely realized that her captor was still talking. "You really are beautiful, Peggy. Since the moment we met I couldn't stop thinking about you. Imagine how ecstatic I was when I found out that we share a friend, one who was all too eager to bring you to me. Aren't you so happy that I managed to find you?" "Uh-huh," said Peggy absentmindedly, smiling wider as the purple lights flared like miniature suns, their long warm tendrils flowing down and wrapping around her, holding her tight. Kilgrave's words seemed oddly distant, like he was speaking to her from far away, though she was kneeling right in front of him. "And now that you're here... you can finally be treated the way you deserve to be treated. The way you need to be treated. Like the fat slut you are." "Yeah," giggled Peggy, head fuzzy, drooling. "Like a fat slut. Treat me like a fat slut." "You don't have to ask me twice," laughed Kilgrave, as he grabbed the back of her head and slowly pulled her towards his erection. She opened her mouth, suddenly starving for his hard cock deep down her throat, for his hot cum smeared all over her face and tits. "Just like that," he groaned, as Peggy licked and sucked him as frantically as she had with Natasha's heel. Kilgrave tasted sweet, and the deeper his cock went in her mouth, the more desperate for more she got. Kilgrave puts his hands in her hair, stroking her flowing auburn locks, before suddenly pulling her hair hard. But Peggy didn't feel anything but a brief twinge of discomfort, and it actually made her even more aroused. All she cared about was making him come, needing to taste it, needing to feel it coating her body. "Almost... almost there," Kilgrave grunted, thrusting into her mouth roughly before finally coming. Peggy drank his dark purple come like she was starving for it, not pulling his cock out of her mouth until he was done. Kilgrave held his dick out over her head, letting the last few drops trickle down onto her, and Peggy opened her mouth wide, sticking her tongue out, desperate to have it all. Afterwards, Kilgrave sat down on the couch, watching Peggy smugly as she swallowed his come, and the taste of it was enough to make her finish. "Ohhh. Ohhh..." As he listened to the sound of her soft little gasps, Kilgrave's cock began to twitch, and he looked down at the sight of her flushed and sweaty face, her eyes rolling back into her head on pure ecstasy, with a smirk that more like a snarl. But instead of fucking her why wont he fuck me again im pretty im his pretty little slut arent i he tucked his still hard cock back into his pants, shouting out words Peggy couldn't hear over the droning in her head, and behind Peggy the iron door opened. She turned, not that surprised to see four men, all of whom were gazing at her half undressed body eagerly. One with a beard and spiky black hair seemed particularly appetizing to Peggy, but the heavily tattooed man with the little mustache looked nice and strong too, and the slender young man with the window's peak was handsome in a girlish sort of way. Only the fifth, an overweight older man, wasn't attractive to Peggy, but whatever Kilgrave wanted her to do, she'd do it. That much at least she knew was true. "Smile," ordered Kilgrave, and Peggy obeyed, grinning widely at the new arrivals. "This the new girl?" said the bearded man, crossing his muscular arms. "I see why you went to so much trouble to get her. Those are some fucking huge tits." "I don't know," said the one with the tattoos in a thick Russian accent. "For such a fat girl, big tits are not that impressive." Something about his accent and way of speaking reawakened a memory for Peggy, one lost in the fog surrounding her mind. There's no need to thank me. It's a fact. Wanda is younger than you, and less abrasive, but you have much better breasts, and a far superior behind "Natasha?" she murmured, and the thin man with the slicked back hair looked down at her worriedly. "I think your miracle drug is starting to wear off," he said, and Kilgrave looked down at her, annoyed. Peggy blinked a few times, some of the fog lifting from her brain, and with mounting horror she realized what was happening. "No!" she screamed shrilly, trying to get to her feet, but her legs gave way underneath her and sent her topping back down. Then Kilgrave was on top of her, straddling her waist with his erection pushing into her cunt, drawing another syringe. "No! Please no! No no no no no..." But it was useless. Kilgrave slid the needle into her buttcheek once more, and the purple liquid flowed into her body like a cold breeze, making her hairs stand up and her whole body shiver. The four other men watched impassively, none seeming bothered in the least, as if they'd seen the same thing a dozen times before. When Kilgrave was done, he yanked the syringe out of Peggy's ass, standing up over her. She rolled over onto her back, looking up at him and the others in frozen fear. The tattooed man said something, and the one with grey hair laughed, but for Peggy the world was silent. There was fog seeping from the floor, engulfing her, its cold fingers pushing into her cunt and making her wet. Kilgrave looked down at her, speaking, each word hammering into her brain, cutting through her stupor. She tried to focus on him, but her new master was becoming blurry and distorted, like she was viewing him through a funhouse mirror. The purple of his suit spread away from the cloth, bleeding into his skin, dying his whole body that deep dark violet. "Now that you're all fixed up, why don't you let these nice men do whatever they want to you? They deserve it, don't they?" The lavender ghost spoke with a deep, monstrous voice, his mouth a dark void. "Yeah," mumbled Peggy sleepily, sprawled out of the floor, eyes dull and glazed over. "They deserve to do whatever they want to me." "You heard the slut," said the Purple Man. "And just because I'm so generous, the first fuck is on the house. Now let's show this fat whore how things work in the Sin Bin." ***** Acting Funny But I Don't Know Why ***** Chapter Notes Title from "Purple Haze" by Jimi Hendrix. The waters of the lake were still and clear, and high above fluffy pink clouds floated peacefully. Like that Just like that Underneath the surface of the lake, a shape began to take form. It slowly walked from the water, surrounded by churning froth. The shape was a woman, as naked as a newborn, with smooth pale skin, long and wavy brown hair, and large, firm breasts with small, sweet nipples. So hot So fucking hot The woman walked from the water, eyes closed, bright red lips curled into a smile. She extended her arms, and from the air phantoms emerged, made from dark violet mist. They wrapped her in silky black cloth, which clung tight to her curves. The woman walked from the water, and on the shore she saw a door. You slut You fat whore Her hands curled around the door's crystal knob. She turned it slowly, opening it. Oink for me little piggy Oink for me The woman walked through the doorway, entering a massive ballroom, one entirely empty and shrouded in shadows. Standing in the middle of the dance floor, she began to dance. You like this don't you slut You like it when we fuck you Yes I love it Harder Fuck me harder I'm begging you fuck me harder As the woman danced her clothing began to fade away, turning into mist, leaving her naked once more. Her nipples were hard; her sex was wet. You better not come inside her Rumlow That voice she recognized. That voice she knew. The voice of her master, her king, her God. The voice of the Purple Man. Jesus Kilgrave I'm not a moron I'm not gonna come inside her The woman continued dancing, but something felt different. Felt wrong. The grandiose ballroom were beginning to shake, and cracks spread across the walls as rubble rained from the ceiling. She danced nonetheless, trying to ignore the whole world collapsing around her, but she couldn't block it out for long. The voices were becoming louder and more distinct, and the dancer was starting to become aware of the horrible aching down below, the feeling like she was tearing apart. Oh fuck I'm close I'm so fucking close!" Rumlow pulled out seconds before he came, finishing all over Peggy's back. Moments later, the salty taste of warm come filled her mouth, the older man Garret groaning as he trusted into her throat one last time. Each pulled out, and Peggy fell to the ground, ass sticking up in the air as she lay in a pool of her own drool. The haze was beginning to wear off, she knew, but she still wasn't able to move or even speak. "My turn next," said the thinnest man, the one named Loke. "I want the fat slut's arse-" "Not yet," said Kilgrave, frowning. He looked down at her suspiciously. "Peggy, sweetie," he said lightly. "Would you mind doing a teensy weensy little favor for me?" Peggy opened her mouth, and found that she could speak once more. "Of course, Master," she said, forcing herself to giggle. Kilgrave didn't look convinced. "Alright then... I want you to bite off your tongue." Peggy's heart dropped. That hadn't been anything close to what she was expecting him to say. "M-Master," she began, making sure she kept the same high girlish voice, "Are you sure? Without my tongue, I couldn't-" That was all they had to hear. Kilgrave clamped a hand over her mouth, smothering her cry of pain as the fourth man, the one with all the tattoos, stuck the syringe into her ass. "Please," she begged, vision starting to swim. "Please, don't... I'm... I'm..." Then the fog took over once more, and Peggy's head drooped down, eyes fluttering shut. The world was black, but she could still here the voices, though again they sounded like they were coming from underwater. it keeps wearing off so quickly are you sure its working It takes a while for my girls to get used to it they always try to resist it at first but don't worry your pretty little head off loke shell come around in time she better rumlow and garret got their turn already ive been around for longer than all of you I want her next i already called her vanko i get her first what will you do about it faggot want to fight me you and what army just try me vanko just try me im starting to lose my patience with gentlemen gentlemen please youll all get your turn but vankos right loke he should get her first if youve got a problem with that take it up with the management vanko go on have your fun with the little slut she should be out of it for a while fine whatever thank you for seeing reason kilgrave now if youll all excuse me oh youre so big so big and hard go on fuck my ass fuck my big fat ass this ones very enthusiastic kilgrave much better than the last few i think i might have to come back again tomorrow yeah she really is good kilgrave in fact she might just be your masterpiece thank you thank you very much i try my best its just too bad toomes isnt around to see her that old bastard wouldve loved her i dont know i think shes a bit too old for his taste and maybe a bit too feminine if you catch my drift you mean aw no way thats bullshit toomes was no fag now i dont mean to speak ill of the dead but i happen to know for a fact that Peggy danced alone in the shadows, her nude body shimmering with sweat. Around her the voices talked, but their were separated by some invisible veil, a shield protecting her from reality, and as long as that veil was up, she'd be safe. Even when Vanko came hard in her ass, choking her until she couldn't breathe as he did, even when Loke took his turn and slapped her ass around until it was red and sore, she kept dancing. At first, Peggy thought that she was trapped deep in a dream, but soon she realized it was the other world that was dream, or maybe a nightmare. The ballroom was the only reality she needed, for it was the only in which she could forget about what was happening to her. When they were done, Kilgrave gave her another dosage of his drug for good measure, before leading her through a dark and winding basement into a large pitch black room. He threw her in, then closed the door and bolted it from the outside. Peggy lay on her side, shivering, tears streaming down her face. "Are you the new girl?" asked a voice from the darkness, and Peggy turned, not responding. A thin, dark haired girl crawled out of the shadows, with small but firm breasts and bags under her eyes. She looked down at Peggy with pity. More followed, from the darkness: A blonde girl covered in scratches, her breasts and behind especially marred by deep red gouges. An older woman with black hair and a massive bruise on the side of her face, yellow and green and purple. A curvy, large-breasted girl, who walked alongside the older woman, holding her hand. And lastly, a young woman who appeared to still be in her teens, with straw colored hair and a full, swollen, pregnant belly. The women surrounded Peggy, forming a circle around her. Peggy tried to look up at them, or say something, but her head simply fell to the side, and she murmured something like "wuh-sa-pace." "Don't worry," said the first girl. "You're safe with us. I'm Jessica, and these are Trish, Jeri, Pam, Hope, and Robyn." Peggy's mind may have been dulled, but she was still able to realize that that was one more girl than she had seen. With considerable effort, she moved her eyes into the direction that Jessica pointed, and barely managed to see a sixth girl, one huddled up in the corner. Robyn looked like she might've once been attractive, but now her plump breasts were covered in dark bite marks, her ass was a deep crimson, and her mouth was permanently open, drool cascading down her body like a waterfall. She muttered to herself, rocking back and forth. "I'm a good girl. I'm a good girl. I'm a good girl. I'm a good girl. I'm a good girl." "Robyn was one of Kilgrave's earliest test subjects," explained Jessica. "He gave her higher doses of his serum than anyone could handle. Now clients only use her to take some aggression out, slap her around." She turned back to Peggy, who's mind was beginning to become clear- but slower than it had before, and even when she could speak and move, she still knew that there was something missing, some parts of her brain lost forever to the purple haze. "Only the worst of the worst come to the Sin Bin," Jessica said, "Bank robbers and murderers and rapists. Most don't know what exactly Kilgrave does to us to make us so loyal, they just know that we'll do whatever they say, no matter what. But it's not so bad. After a while you stop feeling the pain, and with Kilgrave's serum in your blood, soon you'll start to enjoy it. And if you ever feel like everything's just too much for you, remember that we're here. We keep each other safe." It doesn't look like you're doing a great job, Peggy tried to say, but it came out "Duh-duhnt luh lih y'doin' greht jaa." "Shhh. Don't try to talk." Jessica looked down at Peggy's bloody, cum covered mouth, then bent down and gave her kiss. Peggy just laid there, not reciprocating it at all, but the girl kissed her again, deeper this time, and as flickers of arousal came through the fog, she returned the kiss. As she did, the blonde girl covered in cuts, Trish, crawled up to Peggy, leaned in and began kissing one of her breasts, taking it in both hands and fondling the soft flesh as she did. Jeri went up to the other breast, wrapping her lips around the nipple and suckling on it eagerly, while Pam planted kisses on the older woman's neck and shoulders, fingering herself at the same time. Lastly, Hope crawled between Peggy's legs, put a hand on each of her thighs, and dove in. Peggy gasped into Jessica's mouth as the pregnant teen ate her out, better than even Sharon had- Where to Anywhere, if it's with you Sharon kissing her when they were children, blushing and nervous but even then in love Sharon lying in her bed as Peggy came in at night, not saying anything, not making the slightest noise until her aunt's fingers made her scream and cry and moan Sharon coming into the car, driving off in search of a better future, knowing that everything would be fine as long as they were together Sharon "Sharon!" screamed Peggy, breaking away from the girls surrounding her, scrambling to her feet, her head aching, her heart pounding. "I have to- I need to-" She threw herself against the iron door, again and again and again, needing to break it down, needing to find Sharon. Her brain was still fuzzy, but one thing was clear- "I need Sharon," she sobbed, as she slowly collapsed, Jessica holding her head in her arms. "I need Sharon, I need Sharon..." And all that time, Robyn was curled up in the corner, her mind and spirit both broken, repeating her mad mantra. "I'm a good girl. I'm a good girl. I'm a good girl." ***** The Sweetest Pet In The World ***** Chapter Notes Title from "Under My Thumb" by The Rolling Stones. "We'll find her. Don't worry." Sharon sat in Coulson's office, eyes red from crying. It had been 48 hours since Peggy disappeared. "You better," she replied, rubbing her eyes. "Don't worry, Sharon. We have a contact in the police force who's already looking for her. And I told you about the lengths Fury will go to protect his escorts-" "Yeah? If Nick Fury's so good at looking after us, then how the hell did Peggy get kidnapped in the first place?" She leaned in close, glaring at Coulson with such intensity that he recoiled. "And on the subject of questions you're too afraid to answer... who the fuck is Kilgrave?" Phil sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Kilgrave... Kilgrave is our business rival. He runs the Sin Bin in the Bronx. Believe me, it's nothing like this place. Kilgrave treats his prostitutes like slaves, allowing his clients to do virtually anything to them. The odd part is the escorts seem to enjoy it. I don't know if he just recruits very submissive women, or if there's something else going on, but there are rumors... The only solid information is that he's dangerous, and at least a little unhinged. And that graffiti on the wall wasn't there until right after Peggy was taken." "So you think it's him?" Phil rubbed his eyes. Despite his normally youthful behavior, in that moment he looked old and tired. "I don't know. Maybe. But if it was him, and Peggy didn't agree to it-" "She didn't," said Sharon, wishing she felt as sure as she sounded. "-Then we'll put a stop to it," finished Coulson as if he hadn't been interrupted. "If there's any evidence that Kilgrave has harmed Peggy, Fury's going to take him down." "He'll have to get in line," said Sharon as she got to her feet, walking out of the office without a word. Phil watched her go, clearly wanting to say something, but choosing not to. Sharon stormed through the hallway, feeling herself start to tear up again. She turned a corner, not paying attention to where she was going, and ran straight into Steve, almost knocking him over. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I'll try to watch where I'm going from now on," he stammered, and Sharon couldn't help but grin. "It's not your fault. Hey, Steve?" "Yeah?" "Want to have sex with me?" Steve frowned. "You don't want that." "I do," she protested. Sharon was disgusted to realize how much she needed Steve to fuck her, how desperate she was. "You don't. You're confused, and lonely. If you want, I can stay at your apartment tonight, in case you feel afraid, and I'll help you any other way I can, but I'm not going to- do anything with you." "Please," she begged, but Steve shook his head. "I'm not going to take advantage of you, Sharon. And besides- I'm actually dating someone." "Oh. She- She's a very lucky woman." "Well, actually, it's a he." Sharon didn't think it was possible to feel any more awkward than she currently did. She blushed furiously, avoiding Steve's eyes. "Um, well, he's a very lucky man." Steve smiled. "I don't know about that. I'm not as nice as people seem to think." "Really? You don't seem like the kind of guy with a dark side." "Maybe you just haven't seen it yet." Something about the way he said that made Sharon certain that it was true. She nodded, a thought occurring to her. "You said you'd help me any way you could?" asked Sharon. "Yeah. Besides having sex with you. What do you want me to do?" Sharon smiled. "I want you to help me kill Kilgrave." Outside the Compound, the wind howled, the moon full and pale in the sky. A taxi pulled up in front of an abandoned restaurant, the windows boarded up. Above the building was a darkened neon sign, bulbs forming the word "Niku." From the taxi walked a plump balding man with a wrinkled, poorly fitting suit. Going around to the side of the building, he walked through a concealed door. The inside of the restaurant was dark and empty, but even still the man walked to a door in the back, punching a password into the keypad. At the bottom of the stairs, the man was met by a guard with dark spiky hair. He spoke in a gravelly voice, smiling as he did. "Mr. Mason. You got our message. Come on in." Phineas Mason followed Rumlow through the halls. They passed a series of doors. The first had screamed of pain emanating from it, the second desperate sobs, and the third hysterical laughter. Phineas tried his best to ignore the noises. The Sin Bin was a fun place to spend the night, but he was always disgusted by himself the next day. When he had heard of Kilgrave's newest victim, though, he just couldn't resist... "I was sorry to hear about what happened with Toomes," Rumlow said, interrupting Phineas' thoughts, and he nodded, distracted. "Yeah. Yeah, he was a good guy." "Kilgrave felt bad too. In fact, he decided that just for tonight, you'll get a crack at the new girl on the house. You can do anything you want with permanent side effects, absolutely free. She's waiting for you in here," said Rumlow, as they reached one last door. Mason pushed it open, and found a large dark room with peeling purple paint, empty except for the naked women kneeling on the floor, looking up at him with wide eyes and a smile. "Peggy," he said, hardly believing his luck. "It's so good to see you like this." "It's good to see you too," said Peggy, chest jiggling with every word. Her breasts were round and full and firm, nipples as sweet and pink as he had always pictured- But something wasn't right. "You don't know me," said Mason sadly. "Let's change that," the girl said seductively, but he could tell the response was automatic, with about as much real feeling as if Siri was saying it. With al his enthusiasm gone, Phineas sighed as he pulled out his cock, feeling its hardness in his hand. Peggy cooed as she looked at it, eyes wide. "Mmmmm. You look sooo good." "Whatever," muttered Phineas, beginning to stroke his cock. "Just- Just tell me you want me inside you." "I want you inside me," Peggy moaned, eying his dick hungrily. "I want you to fuck me hard and fast, turning me into your own personal sex doll-" "Kilgrave really broke you, didn't he?" Mason asked as he jerked off. "Oh, no sir," she replied earnestly. "Kilgrave made me. He made me into a good girl, a good little slut." "You are a slut, aren't you? You've always been such a slut. And a tease too." "Do you want me to tease you now?" asked Peggy, but Phineas shook his head. "No. No, I just remember when you used to wear those tight skirts, so fucking short, and then you'd get all pissed off when I gave you a little spank." "You can spank me," offered Peggy, raising her bare ass in the air and shaking it enticingly. Mason's breathing became labored as he came closer and closer to coming. "Why don't you just shut up?" he snarled, and Peggy instantly closed her mouth, only enraging Phineas more. "Stop fucking doing what I say!" he roared, springing forward, falling on top of Peggy. He pinned her down with his body as he wrapped a hand around her neck, masterbating even faster as he squeezed, cutting off her breathing, strangling her- Phineas exhaled as he came, come splattering over Peggy's pale muscular stomach. Moments later, a strong hand grabbed Mason's shoulder, pulling him off her. Peggy gasped out, breathing hard, as Phineas looked up to see Rumlow standing over him, staring down at him coldly. "It's not the same," Mason muttered, feeling angrier than he knew he had any right to be. "You broke her. You ruined her." Rumlow shook his head incredulously, smiling a little, before pulling out his pistol and shooting Phineas Mason in the head. Kilgrave sat in his brightly lit office, playing with his cock absentmindedly. When Brock Rumlow stormed in, Kilgrave didn't stop, instead just turning to his uninvited guest, annoyed. "What?" he snapped, as Rumlow looked away pointedly. "It's- It's Mason, sir. He tried to kill Peggy, so I killed him." "Oh. Where's the body?" "I called Killian. Some of his men should be over soon to dispose of it." "And Peggy? She's alright?" "She's fine. Scared and confused, but not hurt." "Good," replied Kilgrave, finding himself more relieved by the news than he expected. "So you've got it under control?" "Yes sir. But, um, we have more news from-" "Don't say the name," interrupted Kilgrave suddenly. "You never know who might be listening." "Right. Sorry." "So, what does our wolf in sheep's clothing have to say that's so important?" "It's Fury, sir. He's seen the graffiti we had the, uh, the wolf leave behind. He's coming after you." "Good," said Kilgrave with a smirk as he continued to play with himself. "And I'll be waiting for him. Call up our little wolf in the fold. Say... say that Ragnarok approaches." "Ragnarok?" asked Rumlow, clearly confused. "Didn't you ever study mythology? Ragnarok... Ragnarok is the Norse end of the world. The day the kingdom of the one-eyed god topples." Kilgrave smiled, as he felt an orgasm approaching. "The day the wolf devours him." ***** If You Go Chasing Rabbits ***** Chapter Notes Title from "White Rabbit" by Jefferson Airplane. When Nick Fury awoke, he was lying in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar unapartment next to an unfamiliar blonde woman. As he slowly stood up, trying to be as stealthy as possible, the floorboards creaked, and the eyes of the blonde flickered open. She smiled up at Nick, who was trying his best to remember her name. "Nick, come back to bed," she said, pulling down her blanket to reveal her soft, full breasts. After a brief hesitation, Nick shook his head, and began pulling on his clothes. "Sorry, I have to go. I've got work to do." The blonde pouted. "Come on, I know something else you can do..." "I really have to leave," protested Nick, pulling on his jacket as he left without another word. Nick walked down the sidewalk, and he sighed. "I really should stop drinking so much..." he muttered to himself, as he pulled out his phone, dialing a number he had dialed many times before. "Coulson? You there?" In his office, Coulson threw aside the crossword he was doing, picking up the phone in an instant. "I'm here, boss. Did you find anything about Kilgrave?" "Not yet. I'm going to see my contact in the NYPD right now. The one who helped with the Toomes problem." "Alright. Call me if you learn something useful." "I don't suppose you've found new info?" "No such luck, boss." Fury chuckled bitterly. "Luck ain't got anything to do with it, Coulson. There's no such thing." "If you say so. I'll see you soon." "Let's hope so," said Nick, as he hung up. Detective James Rhodes was waiting for him on the steps of the NYPD precinct. He greeted Fury with a curt nod, though not before looking around to make sure no one else was watching. "Any leads?" asked Fury, as he sat down next to Rhodes. Rhodes handed Fury a file, one only holding a few papers and photographs. "This is all we have on the man called Kilgrave," said the detective. "We don't even know his real name." "It's not his real name I'm interested in," replied Fury as he flipped through the folder. Most of it was useless- A physical description, a few blurry photographs, a picture of the Sin Bin- but one thing stood out. An fuzzy image of a young teen with the slicked back hair and dark eyes of Kilgrave, and at his side- "The Kingpin." "Excuse me, Detective Rhodes?" A startled Rhodes whirled around to see a young officer standing over him, and Fury took that as his cue to leave. As he did, he heard the young man talking to Rhodes. "I've been feeling sick today. Would you mind if I took the rest of the afternoon off?" "Uh, sure," said Rhodes. "Just make sure you're back as soon as you feel better, okay, Barnes?" Detective Rhodes didn't even listen as Barnes thanked him, instead staring off at the hooded figure with a file still in his hands, walking off into the shadows of the alleyway. As Fury walked towards the neighborhood of Hell's Kitchen, Officer Barnes was heading in the opposite direction, towards his apartment. Steve Rogers was waiting in the bed they shared when Barnes walked in with a wide grin. "I'm so glad to see you, Bucky," said Steve. "Work had been... intense, to say the least." "Don't worry about work," replied Bucky, as he reached down and unbuttoned Steve's jeans. Steve closed his eyes as his lover pulled down both the pants and the underwear beneath them, and Bucky leaned forward, mouth wide- The phone rang. Steve turned to it, frowning, and Bucky sighed. "Ignore it." "I can't, it could be- oooh." Steve shuddered as Bucky took his erection in his mouth, hands playing with his balls, tongue licking slowly at the tip. "Bucky, I- ohhh God... I- I have to pick it up." Bucky pulled away with an impatient huff, and Steve rushed to the phone as it rang again, still pantless. "Who is it?" he asked, and the reply confirmed his worst fears. "Okay, I'll come. Yeah, I remember. You sure you want this? Okay then. I'm on my way." As he pulled on his pants, Bucky frowned. "What was that about?" "Nothing. I'll be back soon." "You aren't cheating on me, are you?" asked Bucky with a grin, and Steve laughed. "On you? Why would I cheat on the best cocksucker in the city?" He gave Bucky a small kiss, not minding the taste of his own dick on the man's lips, before heading out. Sharon was standing outside his apartment when Steve came down to meet her. "Bring me to him," she said, and Steve nodded. "You sure you want to meet Castle? He's a pretty scary guy." The look Sharon have him was answer enough, and the two of them set off without another word. Frank Castle met then in a small coffee shop. The three sat at a booth in the corner, and Steve spoke first. "Did you bring it?" Castle, a muscular man with a flattop and a black trench coat, took out a brown paper bag. Sharon started to open it, but Steve grabbed her wrist, stopping her. "Not here." Sharon nodded, turning to Castle. "But this is it?" "This is it," answered Castle in a gravelly voice. "The 4-64 Judas. Fires incendiary rounds that can pierce nearly any metal. If you want someone dead, this is the way to do it." He jerked his head in the direction of Steve. "You're lucky you're friends with a vet. I wouldn't be selling one to you so cheap if I had no reason to trust you. You brought the money?" Sharon took out a thick envelope, handing it over. Frank Castle looked inside, then closed it with a satisfied grunt. "Alright. We have a deal. If you don't mind me asking, who are you planning on killing?" "Whoever said we were going to kill anyone?" asked Sharon, and Castle chuckled. "You don't buy a Judas unless you're gonna kill someone." "We're going to kill Kilgrave," answered Steve as he stood to go, Sharon right behind him. Frank called out after them, smirking. "Yeah? Good luck with that." Outside, it was raining. Fat droplets of water splattered against the roof of a run-down building with a rusty sign above it proclaiming it Fogwell's Gym. Nick Fury walked around a puddle, not wanting to get his leather boots wet, as he stood in front of the door to the gym. Nick knocked, then waited a few moments before knocking again, but there was no response. He looked up at a small security camera hidden behind the sign, aimed down straight at the door. "I've got to talk to Fisk," he said to the camera, ignoring the passerbys staring at him as he seemingly talked to thin air. After a minute, however, the door opened, and Fury walked into the dark and dusty gym. A tall, muscular dark skinned man stood in front of him, arms crossed. "Nick Fury. What are you doing here?" "I've got business with the Kingpin. It's important." "You can't just stroll in here and expect to see the Kingpin. You don't meet with him unless he wants you to." "It's about Kilgrave," replied Fury, and after hesitating for a second, the guard stepped out of his way. Nick walked to a pile of boxes, pushed them out of the way. Behind them was a staircase, and at the bottom of it Fury found a hallway almost as long as those in the Compound, though not nearly as clean. He walked down the hall, reading the names on the doors as he did. Vanessa, Marci, Colleen, Misty... At the end of the hallway, Fury reached one last door, one without a label. It opened, and Nick walked into a large room, empty except for a hot tub in the center. Wilson Fisk sat in the hot tub, entirely naked, everything below his waist concealed by the bubbles, to Fury's great relief. In the water with him were three nude girls: A slender, pale skinned blonde, a lean but muscular brunette with alluring dark eyes, and a woman with skin the color of caramel and one of the most beautiful pair of breasts Fury had ever seen. All three watched Nick Fury as they clung to Kingpin, who was frowning at the unwelcome guest. At each side of the tub were two more guards, one thin with dark glasses, the other boyishly handsome with curly blonde hair. "Nicholas," said Wilson Fisk. "I'd like to say that it's good to see you again, but that would be lie. Allow me to introduce Matthew, Daniel-" The two guards nodded, though their eyes never left the gun at Fury's side. "-Karen, Elektra, and Claire." The three women just stared at him. "Now, to what do I owe this pleasure?" "We need to talk about Kilgrave," answered Fury, and Fisk's eyes narrowed. "One of my girls went missing. I know he took her. I need you to tell me everything you know about him." The Kingpin didn't hesitate before responding. "No." Nick nodded, and turned to go, before whirling around and drawing his gun. He aimed it at Fisk's head, as Matthew and Daniel pointed their own weapons at Fury. Kingpin didn't even blink through all this, though his entourage in the tub shrieked. Instead, he just raised a hand, and his two guards lowered their guns. Nick didn't do the same. "Clearly this means a lot to you, Nicholas," said Fisk. "But I'm not going to cross Kilgrave." "I'm not asking you to cross him. Just give me the information. You knew him when he was young, didn't you?" Kingpin nodded slowly. "He worked for me. A teenage runaway, he came to me when I had first started out my business, begged for me to give him a job. He was called Kevin then, and he was popular, and talented. Knew just what to say to his clients to make them want to keep coming back. But you know how it is with the young ones. Eventually, they realize that being paid for sex isn't always as good as you'd expect. Someone comes around who's a bit too rough with them, and, well..." He looked up at Fury, regret in his eyes. "It was too much for Kevin. He quit. But a few years passed, and I started hearing about him again. Only now he was called... you know. He started up the Sin Bin, recruited a few girls of his own, and started up a policy he called "complete customer satisfaction." Meaning clients could do anything they wanted to the whores, provided they paid enough. How he got the girls to go along with it, I don't know. Maybe he just recruits young, malleable girls who don't know better, but there are rumors..." He shook his head. "Stay away from him, Nicholas. What's one girl, really?" Fury laughed coldly. "One girl is one girl, Fisk. It's that simple. I'm not afraid of Kilgrave." "I know you aren't," replied the Kingpin. "That's the problem." "Then I guess that's that," said Nick, as he turned to leave, but Fisk spoke again. "I'll use some of my contacts, arrange a meeting between you and Kilgrave. Hopefully you can settle this peacefully. I just want you to know what you're getting into." "Oh, I do," answered Fury as he walked out the door, smirking as he looked down at his gun. "It's Kilgrave you should be worried about." "Kilgrave," whispered Peggy to herself, as she lay on the cold hard floor in the dark basement. Around her, the other girls were trying to sleep, but Peggy's eyes were open as she fingered herself, smiling softly. "Kilgrave..." She remembered the taste of his cock, of his come... the memory made her head feel fuzzy, brain still full of the purple haze. Peggy hadn't been given an injection since before the last man, the one who died, but she was still lost in a dream... she didn't mind, though. It was a sweet dream. "Daddy," she muttered. "Master. God." Moments before she reached her climax, the door opened, and the slender man walked in, the one with the cold blue eyes. "Peggy," he said with a smile, and Peggy sat like a dog would, grinning up at him. She was still aroused, but she knew she didn't dare touch herself when one of her masters was there. They didn't like it when she came without their permission, and Peggy hated to displease them, but sometimes she just couldn't help herself. A woman walked out from behind the man, tall and pale with long black hair. She smirked down at Peggy, and Peggy blushed proudly at the clear lust in the woman's eyes. "She's beautiful," said the woman, giving the man a kiss on the cheek. "A wonderful selection as always, Loke." Loke laughed, putting a hand on the woman's ass, squeezing it, making her gasp in surprise, before giggling. "Maybe you can find a way to thank me later, Hela," he whispered, but the woman smacked his hand away, still smiling. "Oh, you naughty boy. You can beg as much as you'd like, but I'm afraid I'll be far too busy with this little sweetie." Hela leaned down to Peggy, whispering in her ear. "It's good to meet you, love. My name is Hela. But you can call me mommy." "Mommy," repeated Peggy, and Hela laughed. "I like her already. Come on, Peggy dear." Hela walked away, and Peggy crawled after her. As she passed Loke, he leaned down and gave her a little swat on the behind, but Peggy was too enthralled by her new mommy's long muscular legs and round firm ass. The client led her to a nearly empty room with only a couch, similar to the one where Peggy first tasted her new master. "Lie down," ordered Hela, pointing at the couch, and Peggy did as she said, lying on her front with her bare ass facing the ceiling. Hela stroked it, pinching the soft flesh, and Peggy moaned in arousal. "Be patient, sweetie," said Hela, as she took a long black whip from her belt and raised it high in the air. "Mommy's just getting started." The whip whistled down through the air, cracking against Peggy's asscheek. She screamed, unable to contain herself, and Hela pulled back the whip and hit her again and again and again. On the ceiling, a security camera pointed down at them, the red light blinking as it shined down on the two. In his office, Kilgrave stroked his cock slowly while watching the footage, grinning at the sight of his newest whore being beaten so brutally. "You're so hot like that," Hela cooed as she whipped the screaming girl, each hit sending a wave of pain through Peggy's body. "My little slave." "Oh god... oh god, please..." "What's the matter, love?" asked Hela with a sadistic grin. "Not hard enough? Here, I can do it harder-" She brought the whip down hard enough to cut into Peggy's skin, leaving a long thin gash behind. Peggy was sobbing now, howling in pain, the agony cutting through her clouded mind, pulling her from the haze. "Stop, mommy, stop..." Hela scowled, lowering her whip. "Kilgrave told me he broke you. Why aren't you enjoying this?" Peggy just shook her head, shivering, blood trickling down her thighs. "Just stop... it's too much..." With a sigh, Hela grabbed Peggy's chin, roughly turning the girl's head until they were face to face. "You're supposed to be begging for it. I don't like it when they want to stop." "Whip me," sobbed Peggy, the urge to obey too strong to ignore. "Please, hurt me..." Hela smiled, throwing her whip to the ground and instead raising a hand. "Beg for it," she said. "Please, I'm begging you," moaned Peggy as tears rolled down her cheeks. "Hit me. Hit m-" The woman slapped her hard, and Peggy felt a shiver of arousal even as blood dripped from her split lip. She looked up at Hela, vision fuzzy through her tears. "Again," begged Peggy. "Hit me again." This time, Hela grabbed Peggy's hair first, pulling on it hard. Peggy yelped, and as she did Hela slapped her again, then a third time. Blood and drool streamed from Peggy's mouth, as she closed her eyes. "Again," she whispered, feeling weak and tired. "Again." With a smile, Hela curled her hand up into a fist, and rammed it into Peggy's nose. Peggy held back her scream as her nose shattered, dark red blood flowing freely from it. Hela let go of her hair, and Peggy collapsed, pressing her face into the couch cushions to muffle her cries. "You like that, don't you?" asked Hela, grabbing Peggy's ass with both hands. "Don't you love it when Mommy punishes you?" "Yes..." whispered Peggy, and the worst part was that she wasn't lying. The truth was, it made her feel good when her mommy hurt her. Not the pain, but the thrill of doing what she said, of completely submitting to another. "Good," said Hela, as she leaned in and kissed the girl softly, tasting her blood. Then she moved away, breathing deeply, face flushed. Peggy could see that her mommy's nipples were hard atop her heaving breasts. She imagined kissing the nipples, biting them, suckling on them and tasting their milk... She hurt you, said a tiny voice in Peggy's head, muffled by the fog. You don't even want to be in the same room as her. But the purple haze was strong, and it felt almost like tendrils wrapping around Peggy's limbs, controlling her every movement, making her dance. And when Hela drew a long, curved knife from her belt, the strings pulled Peggy's lips up into a smile, and when Hela ordered her to sit up, the strings tugged her up until she was sitting in front of her mommy. "Your titties are so sweet, baby," said Hela as she softly traced a circle around Peggy's erect nipples with the tip of her knife, not hard enough to draw blood. "Mommy's so proud of you. My little girl..." Kilgrave watched all this through the camera, his cock in his hand, and even as his climax slowly approached he frowned. For some reason, as he saw Hela on the monitor pushing her blade into the soft supple flesh of Peggy Carter's breasts, drawing beads of blood and eliciting little whimpers from the whore, Kilgrave felt a twinge of something he hadn't felt in a long, long time. Jealousy. "And your nipples," continued Hela, moving the knife blade towards one of Peggy's nipples, the edge of the blade skimming against the pinkness, leaving tiny dots of blood. "They're so sweet and pretty, love. In fact... Mommy might have to keep one for herself!" Pinching the nipple between two fingers, Hela raised the knife, ready to bring it down, and Kilgrave couldn't ignore his feelings any longer. "Stop her!" he shouted into a radio, and as Hela brought the knife down swiftly, Loke burst into the room and grabbed her wrist, pulling her away. Hela whirled towards Loke, snarling. "What the hell are you doing? Whatever happened to complete customer satisfaction?" "Just get out of here," ordered Loke. "I'm sorry, but you have to go." Hela huffed, storming out without even glancing at Peggy, who still sat on the couch, clearly confused. Loke turned to her, looking over her blood and sweat coated body with pity. "Why did mommy have to leave?" asked Peggy, and Loke sighed. "She was about to cut you," he explained. "So?" "Kilgrave.... Kilgrave wants to keep you safe, Peggy. He doesn't want people to cut you." Peggy's confusion gave way to a look of pure, innocent happiness. "He cares about me?" asked Peggy, smiling widely. "Yes," replied Loke as he turned to go. "Of course he does." When Loke was gone, Peggy laid back on the couch, looking up at the dusty ceiling with a smile. Her face was still encrusted with a mixture of sweat, blood, tears, and drool, but in spite of all that she was happy. "He cares about me," she said to herself, as her fingers trailed down her body, towards her glistening wet sex. ***** An Eye For An Eye And A Tooth For The Tooth ***** Chapter Notes Title from "Thursday Night In The Danger Room" by Run The Jewels. Peggy's dreams were haunted by a beautiful ghost. It came to her, every night, wreathed in white robes. The ghost pushed its way through the purple haze, and when it reached Peggy, it embraced her. I'm coming, the ghost said to her. The same message every single night. I'll be here soon. Then it was gone, and the dense fog surrounded Peggy once more. When she awoke, the dream would fade away in an instant. And there would be nothing left but the dark and cold of the cell she slept in. "Were you having a bad dream?" asked Hope, the pregnant girl, a few nights after the bad man died. Peggy thought for a moment, and nodded. "What was bad about it?" "It wasn't real," answered Peggy. "It was bad because I know it's not real." Hope frowned sympathetically. "I've had dreams like that before." She leaned down, began kissing Peggy's thighs, moving her way up. Peggy closed her eyes, letting her mind wander, barely noticing even as Hope reached her pussy. The pleasure that the girls could provoke in each other was dead; they did it just because there was nothing better to do. Only obeying orders, knowing that a master was proud of you, that you were serving them well, could bring Peggy or all of the others any real joy. "Peggy!" The name came over the intercom, blaring loudly, startling her. She moved away from Hope, getting to her knees as the door opened. Vanko and Garret entered, smiling down at her. "Kilgrave wants to see you," said Vanko, while Garret wrapped something long and thin around her neck. For a second, Peggy thought it was a whip, that her mommy had come back to hurt her some more, and the thought filled her with excitement and fear in equal measure. But then Garret moved his hand away, and Peggy saw that it was a leash, tied tightly around her. "Come on, sweetie," said Garret, jerking on the leash as he walked away, and Peggy crawled after him. Kilgrave's office was much less lavish than Peggy had expected. It was empty besides a desk with a monitor on it, on which the footage from all of the Sin Bin's security cameras was transmitted, a few chairs, a lamp, a laptop, and a large brown box in the corner. When Kilgrave saw Peggy, he grinned, and dismissed Garret and Vanko with a wave of hand, not even glancing at them. "Peggy, daring," he said when they were alone. "You look divine." "Thank you, Master," replied Peggy, an automatic response once again. "Don't look so dour," said Kilgrave, as he looked down at her on her hands and knees. "Smile." Peggy smiled, and once again she felt as if there were strings tied to her, forcing her to do as her master said, moving her body around like a puppet. "That's better. Now, Peggy, I know this last week must've been confusing for you, but I'm very proud of you." "Thank you, Master," she said, as Kilgrave got out of her chair and walked over to the box in the corner. "In fact," he said, reaching into the box. "I've got a present for you." Kilgrave pulled out a purple dress, handing it to her. Peggy looked down at it, confused. It had been almost a week since she had worn any clothes. "What do you want me to do?" she asked, and Kilgrave rolled his eyes. "Put it on, of course!" Peggy nodded and stood up, pulling on the dress. It was tight, pushing up her breasts and squeezing in her waist, and extremely low-cut, but Peggy didn't care about any of that. She looked down at the way her dress shimmered and sparkled in the light, and gave it a twirl, her short skirt flying up. "That's good!" said Kilgrave, clapping his hands together. "Come here. Take my hand." She did as he asked, and Kilgrave put his other hand on her hips. He moved the hand holding Peggy's out, and then they were dancing, Kilgrave slowly circling, Peggy having no choice but to go along with his movements. As they danced, Kilgrave bent down and clicked a button on his laptop, and as he took Peggy's hand once more, music began to play. Wise men say Only fools rush in Kilgrave began to speed up, whirling her around the room, breathing deeply, and Peggy desperately tried to keep up. But I can't help Falling in love with you "Do you like this song?" asked Kilgrave as they danced, and Peggy smiled. "I love it." Maybe she was telling the truth, maybe she wasn't. It didn't matter anymore. Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I can't help Falling in love with you Kilgrave twirled Peggy, holding on to her hands as she spun, and she laughed gleefully. He laughed too, staring intently into her eyes. Like a river flows Surely to the sea Darling, so it goes Some things are meant to be With one hand on the small of her back, Kilgrave dipped Peggy down, very close to the floor, but she wasn't afraid. She knew he was holding her. Then he pulled her back up, and they were face to face, and Peggy couldn't control herself anymore. She moved closer to Kilgrave, gyrating her hips slowly, rubbing up against his cock. Take my hand Take my whole life, too For I can't help Falling in love with you "Fuck me," whispered Peggy in Kilgrave's ear, wet and desperately horny. Kilgrave's smile faded, and his face contorted in rage. "No!" he roared, pushing Peggy back. She stumbled and fell, barely catching herself of the desk. For I can't help Falling in love with you Kilgrave panted, eyes wild, running his hands through his hair. "What- What's wrong with me?" he asked. "Nothings wrong with you, Master. You're perfect." Kilgrave looked down at her with eyes full of tears. "No. No, I'm not. I- I want you." "I'm yours. Take me. Fuck me," replied Peggy with a smile, but Kilgrave shook his head vehemently. "Not like that. I want to be with you. I want you to be safe, and happy. I want to keep you safe. I- oh god help me. I love you." "I love you too, Master." Kilgrave looked down at her with such longing, such desperation, Peggy had to feel pity for him. "Tell the truth," he commanded. "Don't lie to me. Do you really love me?" "Yes. Always." That was all he had to hear. Kilgrave grabbed her hips, bending her over the desk, knocking the lamp and the computer to the floor. She giggled as he pulled up her skirt and unzipped his pants, then gasped as he plunged into her. "Master. Master." His cock was long and erect, and it felt like a lightning bolt inside her, alighting her every nerve with crazed energy. "Call me Kilgrave," he said, as he fucked her fast and hard, hands digging into the soft flesh of her shoulders. Kilgrave kissed the back of her neck, and Peggy moaned in ecstasy. "No, no, wait. Call me Kevin." He came quickly, quicker than Peggy would've liked, but the sensation of his seed deep inside her was enough for her to finish as well. She screamed as she did, loud enough to hurt her throat, wanting everyone to hear, wanting them to know that she was his, Kilgrave's, Kevin's, now and forever, until the end of time. "You won't have to sleep on the floor with those whores anymore," he promised her as they sat together afterwards, leaning against the wall, his arm over her shoulders, holding her close. "I'll find a new room for you, one with an actual bed, and you'll get clothes too. And you won't be fucked by those fucking perverts anymore. I'll keep you safe from them. You'll only be fucking me." Peggy nestled up against him, smiling as she closed her eyes. "Thank you, Kevin. I know you'll keep me safe," she said, and Kilgrave grinned, feeling genuinely happy for the first time in as long as he could remember. But it was ruined when Peggy spoke again. "Kevin, I've been having bad dreams. You've helped me so much, you've been so good to me, and I was wondering if you could help me with them." "I'd do anything for you, Peggy. What were your dreams about?" "Well, I don't remember much about them. I just remember... a woman, with white robes, and blonde hair. She's beautiful, so beautiful... and she tells me that she's coming for me. That she's coming, and that she'll be here soon." "Oh." For a moment, Kilgrave was silent. "Go back to your room, baby. Don't worry. I'll keep you safe," he told her finally, closing his eyes. She did as he said, hesitating for a second at the door, then leaving without a word. Kilgrave got off the floor, pulled out his cell phone. "Darren? Are you there? Yeah, it's me. Listen, I need you to come over. I have to talk with you. It's important." He pulled open a drawer of his desk, taking out a syringe filled with a dark purple liquid. Kilgrave looked at it as he listen to Darren's response, before sighing impatiently. "Just come to the Sin Bin. Trust me. By the way... Do you know where Sharon Carter lives?" When the knock came on her door, Sharon was inspecting her gun. The Judas was small and smooth, its bullets a golden color. She felt the weight of it in her hand, imagining what it would be like to fire it, to look into the eyes of the man who stole her aunt from her as she pulled the trigger- The sudden sound of knocking startled her from her reverie. Sharon went to the door, leaving the gun on the couch. "Who's there?" she called, and a familiar voice responded. "It's me, Sharon. It's Darren." Sharon hesitated. "What do you want?" "I have to talk with you," said Darren. "It's important. Please, just open up." Hand inches from the door lock, Sharon considered her options. She had no desire to see her old boss again, but she knew that ignoring him wouldn't make him go away. "Alright, wait one sec." She unlocked the door, opening it to see Darren Cross there with a pistol in his hand, pointed straight at her head. "I have to talk with you," he repeated in a monotone voice, his eyes unfocused and glazed over. Sharon didn't have any time to think. As Darren's fingers contracted around the trigger, she grabbed the potted plant on the table next to the door, a birthday gift from Peggy, and swung it into Darren's head. Dirt and ceramic shards flew everywhere, and Darren stumbled back, blood dripping down the side of his head. "Get rid of her. Purple Man says get rid of her," he mumbled, and he sprung forward, tackling Sharon to the floor. She writhed, trying to escape, but Darren's weight pinned her down, while his painfully erect penis rubbed against her stomach. "I have to talk with you," Darren said in a flat, lifeless voice, muffling Sharon's screams with his hands, barely reacting when she bit into the flesh of his palm, even when she did so hard enough to draw blood. "It's important. Just come to the Sin Bin. Purple Man says get rid of her." Sharon looked up at Darren with pleading, tear-filled eyes, unable to breathe as his bloody hands smothered her mouth and nose, but he looked down at her like he didn't even know her. "By the way," Darren said, cock hard, eyes empty. "Do you know where Sharon Carter lives?" The last thing Sharon heard before everything went black was the sound of a gun firing. Down in the depths of the Sin Bin, Nicholas Fury followed Rumlow through the halls. The other guards stood at the side, watching them walk, like a funeral procession: Garret, who Fury had crossed paths with a few times before, Vanko, who he knew only by reputation (and what a reputation it was), and then there was Loke... "When did you start working here, Lauritsen?" he asked as they passed, and Loke laughed. "When I realized that it was only a matter of time before the Compound became obsolete. Kilgrave is the future, Nick. The Sin Bin is the future. My former coworkers will realize that soon. I won't be the only one who switches over. They'll all see the light." "We'll see," Fury replied, as he reached Kilgrave's office. He went inside alone, and found himself face to face with Peggy Carter. She smiled up at him, wearing a tight, sequined black dress, hands clasped. "Hi, there!" she chirped warmly. "Who are you?" "Peggy, my name is Nick Fury. I'm here to help you." Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Help? Why would I need help?" This wasn't what Fury had expected. He had pictured something more like himself single handedly fighting his way out of the Sin Bin, as opposed to finding the woman he had gone to rescue unsure why she'd be in need of one. "Isn't... isn't Kilgrave keeping you against your will?" She shook her head, clearly confused. "Of course not. Kilgrave keeps me safe. Besides, I agreed to come. Oh... do you mean how they grabbed me and pulled me into the car?" Nick nodded, completely lost. "That was part of it," Peggy laughed. "To be honest, I've got some weird fetishes, and rape fantasies are part of it. But I swear to God, cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye... Nothing has been done to me without my express permission. Kilgrave keeps me safe. Look!" She lifted a piece of paper from the desk, waving it triumphantly. "I even signed a contract." Sure enough, the paper seemed to prove that Peggy Carter had given complete consent to being used to perform a variety of sexually degrading services to Kilgrave and any others of his choice. "He keeps me safe," said Peggy softly. "Kilgrave keeps me safe." Fury was bewildered. He had gone to all the trouble of going to see the Kingpin, scheduling a meeting with Kilgrave, walking through an awful part of town to reach the Sin Bin, and it was for nothing. Things couldn't be that simple... could they? "Then, uh... I guess I'll be going." "Bye, Nick Fury!" Peggy called out happily, waving as Fury turned away. He walked back through the hallway, the guards watching him silently, Loke grinning in a way that made him certain things weren't the way they seemed- But he had no proof. Nothing solid to go on. And even with Rhodes and Barnes from the NYPD in his pocket, he couldn't very well shoot up the Sin Bin without knowing that they were doing something beyond just normal prostitution. He left the closed down restaurant with the sign naming it "Niku" ashamed and confused. As much as he hated to admit it, Nick had to consider the possibility that Kilgrave was running a totally legitimate business- Or at least as legitimate as a brothel could be. Back inside of the Compound, he sat down in his office, sighing as he rested his head in his hands. Tomorrow, Fury thought, I'll have to tell Coulson that his missing escort doesn't want to be found... and I'll have to talk to the niece too. It's going to break her heart... His phone rang, and Fury answered, feeling tired and old and beaten. "It's Steve," said the voice on the other line. "Steve Rogers. I tried calling Phil, but he didn't pick up. Listen, I need to talk with you." "What? What is it!?" Steve breathed deeply before replying in a shaky voice. "I just killed Darren Cross. The business man, Darren Cross. He- oh sweet Jesus. He tried to murder Sharon Carter. If I hadn't shown up when I did-" "Is she okay!?" "She's fine. Shaken, but she'll be okay. But listen- Something was wrong with Darren. It was like he was in a trance, or hypnotized, or something... He kept repeating things, in this monotone voice..." The phone slipped from Fury's fingers. He keeps me safe It fell through the air, the screen shattering as it landed on the ground. Nick Fury stared out at the wall, mouth hanging open. Kilgrave keeps me safe "Oh, fuck," he muttered to himself. "Kilgrave, you goddamn monster... you fucking sadist... what have you done to her?" Fury leaned down the microphone on his desk, speaking into, and his voice blared over the intercom. "This is Nick Fury speaking. All escorts and clients, go home now! You are all in danger. All guards come to my office now. This is a matter of life and death." He leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, heart racing... and he thought back to the security footage of Peggy's disappearance. There was no audio, and the person who took her was concealed on shadows, but you could see Peggy smiling as she walked towards her kidnapper... Like it was someone she knew. Someone she trusted. I won't be the only one who switches over They'll all see the light As the truth, the whole truth, became perfectly clear to Fury, as all the puzzle pieces fell into place, he couldn't help but laugh. Laugh, at how easily he, the chess master, the mastermind, was played. And as the door slid open, and the cold barrel of a gun pushed up against the back of his head, Nick Fury didn't try to scream or run or fight. All he did was say one word. "Motherfucker..." Then Grant Ward pulled the trigger, and Fury fell forward, a gaping red hole in the back of his head. Outside of the Compound, it was raining. Kilgrave stood with his four men, a radio in his hand. "It's done," came the voice over the radio, and Kilgrave smiled. "So Ragnarok is upon us," he said as he stuffed the radio into his pocket, and raised the automatic rifle in his other hand into the air, his men doing the same. "The One-Eyed God is dead." Footsteps were coming close to the door of the warehouse, and Kilgrave laughed as he steadied his gun, ready to open fire on the first person who came through. "Come on, boys. Time to prove who's really in charge." Then the door opened, and Kilgrave fired. ***** Wait For The Ricochet ***** Chapter Notes Title from "Child In Time" by Deep Purple. As Nick Fury's last warning echoed throughout the Compound, escorts and clients alike fell silent, not moving, unsure of what to do. Happy Hogan, head of security, was the first to realize the severity of what was happening, moments before the gunshot rang out and the Compound erupted into chaos. He ran up the stairs, waving to anyone he saw, motioning for them to follow. As Happy ran through the secret door and to the warehouse exit, he drew his gun, knowing that an attack could come at any second. "Come on!" he shouted back at Wanda, Pietro, and Natasha, as they followed him up. Happy reached the door, throwing it open- "Smile." Wanda screamed as Kilgrave fired, the storm of bullets tearing through Happy's chest, splattering the three with blood. Vanko opened fire as well, followed by Garret and finally Loke, and as Pietro grabbed Wanda's hand and tugged her back down the stairs, Natasha right behind, the door to the Compound was riddled with bullets. At the base of the stairs, Wanda turned to see Pepper, Jane, and Tony running towards the staircase. "No! They're up there!" she screamed, frilly lace underwear stained scarlet with the chief of security's blood, and, horrified, they started heading in the opposite direction, towards another one of the Compound's exits. Half nude or entirely nude men and women ran from the rooms, not bothering to get dressed, and the sound of footsteps and bullets came closer and closer. Pietro pulled Wanda with him as he sprinted, the girl barely keeping up, but they turned a corner to see the man with the black goatee, an automatic rifle in his hands, his eyes dull and foggy. "Let them know who's in charge," he mumbled, raising the gun towards Wanda's chest with a smile, and he pulled the trigger. "No!" screamed Pietro as he tackled into his sister, knocking her to the ground. The force of the bullets sent Pietro flying into the wall, torso torn open by the onslaught of metal, bare chest coated in red. He looked at Wanda, who lay on the floor shaking, and Pietro smiled as he died. "Pietro..." Wanda sobbed as her brother's killer reached down and tore off her bra, throwing it to the ground. As the sound of screaming and more gunfire filled the Compound and Pietro's corpse bled in the corner, Brock Rumlow got on top her Wanda, pawing roughly at her breasts, grinding against her pussy. "Scream for me, little girl," he whispered in her ear, pulling down her panties, and Wanda scrunched her eyes shut as Rumlow unzipped his jeans. He wrapped his strong, muscular arms around her, preventing her from wriggling away, as his erection pressed against her. Rumlow kissed her neck and breasts, eyes closed, not knowing or caring about anything but his own satisfaction, not even realizing when Wanda managed to grab his discarded gun from the floor, barely able to turn it towards the man's chest with his weight pressing her down. He was moments away from pushing inside of her when Wanda pulled the trigger, and Rumlow was blasted off her, rolling to a stop by the wall, blood pouring from the holes in his side. Brock Rumlow looked up at Wanda as she slowly, shakily got to her feet, and when she shot him in the head the last feeling he experienced was confusion. Why me? But then the second man grabbed her from behind, knocking the gun from her grasp as he threw her into the wall. Blood dripping down her head, Wanda looked up at Ivan Vanko, vision fuzzy, as he lowered his gun down inches away from her face. "гниль в чертовой суке," he laughed, as his fingers tightened around the trigger, but then his laughter turned to screams, and Vanko stumbled back, dropping his gun, eyes bugging out as his hands went to his throat. He turned, doubling over, and now Wanda could see her savior. Natasha stood behind Vanko, gritting her teeth as she tightened the long black whip wrapped around his neck, face scrunched up with effort. Vanko's legs jerked, and he collapsed, Natasha falling with him but never letting go. She gave the whip one last tug, and as Vanko's legs twitched his face turned purple. Finally, the woman dropped her whip, standing up and offering a hand to Wanda, who took it after a moment's hesitation. Natasha looked down at Vanko's lifeless body, and she grinned. "сначала ты" she said, before spitting down on the dead man's purple face. Natasha turned to Wanda. "Come on, Wanda. Time to go." Loke was laughing as he marched through the pristine white halls of the Compound, his gun in his hand. Everything had a strangely dreamlike quality to it. The violence felt more like a movie he was watching than something happening in real life. And as he shot everything in sight, the voice of the Purple Man whispered in his head. Go to the Compound. Kill everyone there. Don't stop until you die. An older whore threw herself in front of him, promising that if he spared her she'd do- something. He didn't know what, exactly, since before she could get to that part he shot her dead. A small part of Loke remembered the whore, from when he had worked at the Compound. She was called Frigga, and she had been kind to him. But any guilt he might've felt was smothered by the ecstasy of following the Purple Man's orders. He wasn't sure why Kilgrave didn't try and mass market the serum; surely any one would take total submission if it came with total arousal. "Loke," said a voice from behind him, and Loke turned, smiling when he saw who was there. "Thorlief!" he said with a grin, cock twitching as he remembered all the fun they'd had together back when he had worked at the Compound. "It's so good to see you ag-" Thor drew his gun before Loke could react. The bullet struck him in the side, and Loke collapsed, gun falling from his hands. He lay on the ground, silent and still, and Thor ran to him to pick up the gun, not noticing Loke smile as he unsheathed his hunting knife- "Ahhh!" screamed Thor, as Loke drove the knife deep into his eye, enjoying the taste of his former lover's blood as it splattered against his face. Thor fell to his knees, and as Loke unsteadily got to his feet, barely feeling the pain from his gunshot wound, he realized for the first time just how horny he was, how hungry- "Come on, baby," Loke giggled as he unzipped his pants. "Just like old times?" Thor looked up at him helplessly, knife still sticking from his bloody eye socket like a Viking horn, and Loke was tempted to bend down and give him a kiss until he heard the voice- The voice of his master- The voice of his god. "Loke! Rumlow! Vanko!" screamed Kilgrave over the radio. "Get over here! I need you!" He needs me, thought Loke, and he turned away from Thor, not giving him a second thought as he staggered towards his master. Kilgrave fired into the shadows wildly, cursing as his unseen opponent fired back. Garret had already been hit in the shoulder, and he knelt on the ground groaning in pain, leaving Kilgrave to fight by himself- "I'm here, Master!" shouted Loke as he stumbled to Kilgrave, blood dripping down from his side. A bullet whizzed from the darkened end of the hall, barely missing Loke's head, and the thin man pointed his weapon in the direction the bullet came from, firing a short burst. There was silence in the shadows, followed by a dull thud. "Excellent work, Loke," said Kilgrave as he cautiously walked towards the downed figure. "Now let's see who you- ah! If it isn't Mr. Coulson!" Phil Coulson stared up at Kilgrave with a look of hate, snarling as the pool of red slowly formed underneath him. "Who?" he asked through labored breaths, and though Loke didn't understand, Kilgrave seemed to, for he laughed as he pointed off towards the end of the hallway. "See for yourself. Here comes the wolf now." Coulson turned, with considerable effort, to see Grant Ward walking from Fury's office, splattered with blood. "Fucking traitor," Coulson spat out, as Ward walked past him, not even glancing down at him. Phil tried to push himself up, but collapsed almost immediately, eyes closed. "Don't die on me yet," said Kilgrave. "Tell me, Coulson... where is Sharon Carter? Don't lie, and I'll make it quick." Despite the hole in his chest, Phil Coulson smiled. "No," he whispered, and then he was still. "Well then, this was a fucking waste," complained Kilgrave as he and the last three of his surviving employees began marching back down through the Compound. "It's not all bad," replied Ward. "I planted the bombs before I killed Fury, like you asked." "Yeah," agreed Garret with a smile. "And at the very least we finally got rid of that fucking one-eyed nig-" His grin exploded into a fountain of red mist, shattered teeth flying everywhere. Kilgrave, Loke, and Ward turned, raising their weapons, but not fast enough. Coulson's second shot tore through Loke's neck, killing him instantly, and his third dug deep into Ward's leg. "That was for Fury," said Coulson as he propped himself up with one shaking arm, trying to keep his gun steady as he aimed it at Kilgrave, about to pull the trigger- "Enough," snarled Kilgrave, and with a twitch of his fingers he sent down a hail of bullets that pulverized Coulson's skull, finishing the job Loke had started. Phil Coulson collapsed, to move no more. Outside the Compound, it was raining. Kilgrave walked out of the 1963 Kirby Street with a gun in one hand and a detonator in the other, Ward staggering close behind, wounded leg bound up with torn cloth from his jacket. Kilgrave turned to the unassuming brown warehouse, rusty and run-down. From looking at it no one could be able to guess that a massacre had just taken place beneath it. "Say bye-bye," said Kilgrave, as he clicked the detonator. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the warehouse shook, cracks forming in the ground around it, and with a colossal boom a raging inferno burst from the ground, consuming the building above. Grant Ward watched the warehouse collapse into rubble and ash with a word. He stared into the fire, not even blinking, and if Kilgrave hadn't ordered him otherwise he may have stayed there forever. "The cops will be here soon. We need to go." Ward nodded, and he turned from the burning Compound, following Kilgrave down an alleyway, past three words written on the brick wall in purple spray paint. KILGRAVE WAS HERE As the fire trucks, ambulances, and police cars pulled up in front of the warehouse, a black car did as well. Sharon Carter slowly got out, staring at the fire in disbelief. Steve Rogers stood at her side, and he closed his eyes. "Dear god..." "Look!" shouted Sharon, pointing into the cloud of smoke and ash, from which a figure had emerged. The firemen swarmed around it, and as it stumbled out of the darkness Sharon and Steve could see that it was man with something large slung over his shoulder... and what appeared to be a knife sticking out of his eye socket. Thorlief slowly lowered Happy Hogan to the ground, both of them covered in blood. The head of security's eyes were closed, but he was still breathing, though clearly with effort. "He's... He's still alive," said Thor, skin dark with soot and ash, before collapsing. The EMTs surrounded him and Happy, blocking off Sharon and Steve's view of the two. Steve turned to Sharon, tears in his eyes. "What do we do?" he asked desperately, and despite everything that had happened Sharon felt a strange sort of satisfaction. You made your move, she thought to herself grimly. It's our turn now. "What do you think?" she replied, reaching into her pocket and wrapping her fingers around the trigger of the Judas gun. "We kill him." ***** The Purple Piper Plays His Tune ***** Chapter Notes Title from "The Court of The Crimson King" by King Crimson. Lying on a couch in the basement of the Sin Bin, Grant Ward screamed in pain as Kilgrave dug a bullet from his leg. "Quit being such a baby!" he snapped, finally yanking out the little metal ball with the pair of tweezers he had stuck deep in Ward's leg. When it was done, Ward lay there shaking, ragged moans coming from his mouth as Kilgrave wrapped his leg in bandages. Peggy Carter stood in the corner, wearing her new dress, watching this all quietly. Upon finishing, Kilgrave turned to Peggy, and despite the man behind him still groaning in pain, he smiled. "I got rid of them," he said, and Peggy's face wrinkled in confusion, before her eyes suddenly widened. "The girl?" she asked. "The blonde girl, from my nightmares? You got rid of her?" Kilgrave's smile faded away, and a look of annoyance and perhaps even worry passed over his face. "No, love. Not her. But the rest. Fury and Coulson... and those bad men who hurt you are gone. Remember? Loke and Rumlow and Garret and Vanko? They're dead now." He smiled as he said it, and though Peggy couldn't remember exactly who any of those men were, she knew that whatever Kilgrave did, it was to protect her. To keep her safe. And so she smiled too. "I love you, Kevin," Peggy said. "I love you, too, Peggy. And when we're done here, and Sharon is dead... we can start again. Together." Delight flooded Peggy's face, as she beamed up at her captor and lover. "You mean it?" "Of course I do, sweetheart. Just a few more loose ends to tie up, and then we'll be out of this damn city forever. We'll build a new life, just the two of us." "Yeah?" said Ward from the couch as he raised his rifle, aiming it at Kilgrave's chest. "Good luck with that." Peggy turned to Kilgrave, eyes wide and full of fear, and for a brief moment Kilgrave considered grabbing her and using her as a human shield. But when he reached out and grabbed her shoulders, it was instead to push her out of the way. Ward grinned, slowly standing up on shaky legs, beads of sweat rolling down his face. "Grant, please," said Kilgrave, backing up, hands held high, as Ward slowly advanced, gun in his hands. "Be reasonable. I have money, you know, lots of it. And women too. I'll give you my drug. Imagine that, Grant, being master of your own private harem-" "Be quiet," said Ward cooly, clearly enjoying watching the man beg. "I don't want your whores, or your dirty money." "What then!?" demanded Kilgrave, unable to stop himself. "Sex, money, power, drugs... I can give you anything. Why now, Ward? Just when I finally had everything I ever wanted. If you've finally grown a conscience, if you're doing this because you think I'm the bad guy-" He threw his hands up in the air, exasperated, as Ward watched impassively, and Peggy cowered in the corner. "I quit!" Kilgrave declared. "What do you think of that? No more Sin Bin, no more whores... I have Peggy now. She's all I need." "She's a slave," replied Ward. "A brainwashed, drugged-up sla-" "She loves me!" roared Kilgrave, making Peggy jump. He took a deep breathe, then stepped forward, and Ward backed away on reflex. "I'll do anything," he said softly. "I just- I just want her. That's all. I'll do anything." "Anything?" "Anything." "Then how about you just shut up and face death with dignity, you sadistic cowardly fuck." Ward raised his gun, finger tightening on the trigger. "Wait," protested Kilgrave, though he didn't try and move. "Just tell me- why? Why betray me now? Are you doing this for Fury? For Coulson?" "No. For me." As the gun fired, and the loud bang echoed through the basement, Ward slowly collapsed, eyes wide with shock, bloody hole in his forehead. Peggy stood by the wall, Kilgrave's rifle in her shaking hands, tears in her eyes. "For Kilgrave," she said, and Kilgrave grinned. He strode forward, ready to embrace her, ready to make love to her, when the knock came on the door, and he stopped. "Ah. That should be Sharon now, just in time," said Kilgrave with a smile, as he took the gun from Peggy, striding up the stairs. "Try not to miss me too much," he called out as he left, and Peggy smiled, though a part of her felt sad for some incomprehensible reason. Her dreams of the woman in white had been nightmares, she couldn't deny that, but when the girl was gone she'd surely miss her. But I have Kevin now, Peggy told herself as the sound of his footsteps receded. And he's all I need. Kilgrave swaggered towards the door, holding his rifle at his side, smiling to himself at the thought of killing that bitch Sharon, the one who murdered Darren, the one trying to taking Peggy away from him... He raised his gun as he grabbed the door to the restaurant the Sin Bin was under, and swung it open. "Sharon Carter, I presume?" said Kilgrave, finger on the trigger of his gun, but his smirk disappeared when he saw that it wasn't Sharon stepping out of the shadows of the night, but two men with pistols drawn, who raised their own weapons as soon as they saw his. "Kevin Thompson," said Detective Bruce Banner, eyes not moving from Kilgrave's automatic rifle, Detective James Rhodes at his side. "You are under arrest for the kidnapping of Margaret Carter, and for the murders of Nicholas Fury, Phillip Coulson, and-" "Fuck off," Kilgrave said with a sneer, and he opened fire. His first bullet hit Rhodes in the stomach, and the detective collapsed as Kilgrave turned to Banner. But before he could shoot down the second detective as well, Banner fired at him, the first shot missing, the second and third both blasting through Kilgrave's shoulder, sending him stumbling back. "Peggy!" screamed Kilgrave desperately, as his gun slid from his fingers and he clutched his bullet wounds in a vain attempt to stop the blood flow. "Help! Help me-" Banner rammed the butt of his gun into Kilgrave's jaw, causing him to fall to the floor. The detective kicked away Kilgrave's gun, training his own on the helpless man's head. "You thought you were so clever, huh?" taunted Banner. "Thought you were some kind of criminal mastermind? The cops in the city may have turned a blind eye to what Nick Fury is doing, but a massacre that leaves almost a dozen people dead can't be ignored. And imagine how exciting it was when an anonymous tip told us that Fury kept hidden back-ups of all security footage, safely protected even from the bombs you used. It's over, Kevin. You're done. You've gotten sloppy. "Move, and I'll shoot," he added, before turning back to Rhodes, who lay on the ground unconscious, keeping his gun aimed at Kilgrave's face at the same time. "Rhodes! You okay, man?" called Detective Banner, the concern evident in his voice, but there was no reply from the man bleeding out on the floor besides a weak groan. Kilgrave had to stifle a laugh. "You moron," he muttered, and as Banner turned back to him, full of anger, Peggy Carter swung a fire extinguisher into his face, causing the detective to crumple like he was made of paper. "Oh, Peggy, darling," said Kilgrave, hugging her tightly after picking up his rifle, and she smiled proudly as the two unconscious cops lay on the floor. Kilgrave looked down at them, shaking his head. "What a bloody mess. But I can fix it. Don't worry, dear, I'll fix it." He began pacing around the room, as Peggy watched worriedly. "I'll drug Banner," Kilgrave declared suddenly. "Have him go to the station and destroy these security tapes, then kill himself and anyone else who might know of their existence..." Turning to Peggy, Kilgrave smiled, running a hand through his slicked back hair. "We can fix it, love. And then... then we'll run away. Run away from all this death, and pain." "Where?" asked Peggy, and Kilgrave chuckled. "Does it matter? Anywhere. If it's with you." "Oh, Kevin. I love you so-" "Peggy." The voice came from the doorway, and Peggy turned towards it, uncertain. Standing outside, in the rain, she saw the woman from her nightmares. Her dreams, Peggy realized. Not nightmares. Dreams. This time, Kilgrave didn't try and make some quip or joke, like he'd practiced doing as he planned for this. He was tired of all that. Instead, he just raised his gun, and to his surprise Sharon didn't even move, her eyes still on Peggy, her attention diverted away- The side door burst open with a loud bang, and Steve Rogers ran in. Kilgrave barely had time to turn to him before Steve barreled into him, knocking him back and sending the gun flying from his hands. Kilgrave glanced at it, but knew he didn't have time to get it, and instead turned to Peggy. "Peggy, come on!" he screamed, and she followed him after the slightest pause, running out the exit in the back. Sharon drew the Judas gun from her pocket, aiming it at Kilgrave just like she had practiced- but Peggy was too close for her to safely fire, and so instead she bolted after them, Steve sprinting right behind her. The alley behind the Sin Bin was long and dark, full of graffiti and heaps of trash. Rats scurried as Sharon and Steve chased after Kilgrave and Peggy. Kilgrave pulled a small pistol from his purple jacket, and fired randomly, none of the bullets getting anywhere near his targets. At last, Kilgrave and Peggy turned to find themselves at a dead end, a fence blocking their way. With their pursuers moments behind, Kilgrave turned to Peggy and pressed the gun into her hands. "I'll protect you," he promised. "But if they kill me- kill yourself. Then, maybe, we'll be together." Peggy nodded, eyes full of tears, holding the gun in her hands. Kilgrave turned and picked up an iron crowbar leaning against the wall, and just as Steve came around the corner Kilgrave swung forward with all his might. Steve barely stepped out of the way, but he knocked straight into Sharon, sending her stumbling to the ground. Kilgrave raised the bar again, bringing it down with all his might, but this time Steve grabbed the lid of a trash can, and the blow simply glanced off. Bringing the bar back, Kilgrave prepared to swing once more, but Steve slammed the trash can into his chest, knocking Kilgrave against a dumpster. "You know," said Steve as he approached, holding the metal lid like a shield. "You killed some of my friends." "Yeah? When we're done here, I'll kill some more." Enraged, Steve charged forward like a bull, and as she pushed herself to her feet Sharon saw too late what was going to happen. Kilgrave sidestepped, and as Steve's momentum carried him past his target, Kilgrave swung his crowbar against the back of Steve's knee, shattering the bone. Steve screamed as he collapsed, and Kilgrave turned to Sharon to seem the barrel of her gun pointed straight at him. The force of the shot knocked Sharon off balance, but she missed Kilgrave by a few inches, the bullet instead tearing through the crowbar and blasting it out of his hands. Kilgrave snarled like a wild animal as he charged forward, tackling her to the cold wet ground and knocking the Judas from her grasp, hands wrapping around Sharon's neck before she had time to reload, fingernails biting deep into her flesh. "Fucking whore," he growled, Sharon desperately trying to suck in a breath underneath him, her heart beating fast as the world began to grow black. "She's mine. You hear me, cunt!? She's mine!" With every shout, Kilgrave showered her face in spit, and Sharon's eyes were bulging out, and her face was turning purple... "Smile." The Judas gun went off, and its bullet blasted apart Kilgrave's jaw. His teeth shattered and his chin was liquified as the little piece of metal pulverized the lower half of his face. Kilgrave shakily got to his feet, and had just enough strength left to turn and see Peggy with the smoking gun in her hand, tears streaking down her face, before he fell to the ground. At long last, the Purple Man was dead. And Sharon found it funny, in a disturbing sort of way, that the bloody gash torn across his face by the force of the shot did indeed resemble a smile. In the end, Kilgrave died following orders. "Sharon," gasped Peggy, and Sharon turned to her. Her aunt had fallen to her knees, face in her hands, shaking as she sobbed. "Shhh..." whispered Sharon as she bent down to the older woman, wrapping her arms around her, holding her tight. "It's okay. I've got you. I'm here." Steve lay on the ground, holding his broken knee, groaning in pain, as in the distance sirens rang out, getting closer and closer. "You came for me," muttered Peggy, and Sharon smiled softly, wiping a tear from her face. "Of course I did. I love you, Peg. I love you so much." "I love you too," said Peggy, as she drifted off to sleep, her sheer exhaustion overpowering her. That's how the police found them, with Peggy asleep in Sharon's arms on the ground, Steve leaning against the dumpster and clutching his knee, and Kilgrave's bloody corpse face down in a puddle, flies beginning to swarm around his rotting flesh. It was over. ***** There's A Better Life For You And Me ***** Chapter Notes Title from "We Gotta Get Out Of This Place" by The Animals. See the end of the chapter for more notes It was over. As much as anything could truly be over, of course. Some say that nothing truly ends. Some say that nothing lasts forever. For some, this was inarguably the end. Nick Fury. Phil Coulson. Grant Ward. Pietro Maximoff. Loke Lauritsen. Brock Rumlow. Adrian Toomes. Ivan Vanko. John Garret. Frigga Lauritsen, killed by a son who didn't recognize her. Antoine Triplett, Meredith Quill, and Ho Yinsen, killed in a massacre that had nothing to do with them, just for being in the wrong place at the same time. For some, this was the end. But for some, it was the crossroads. The middle. Steve Rogers proposed to Bucky Barnes, his boyfriend of six years, the day after he, Sharon, and Peggy were all officially exonerated from the various crimes charged against them, ranging from solicitation to murder in self- defense. They were let off with little more than a slap on the wrist, and as Bucky drove him from the courthouse, Steve decided that this was the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Not much would change, he knew. Except for the trouble with the last names. But they'd cross that bridge when they came to it. Happy Hogan woke up in the hospital three weeks after Kilgrave's death. He had been comatose for almost a month. His first visitors were Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanov. Natasha had dyed her hair blonde, and she walked hand in hand with the younger girl. They thanked him for what he had done, and promised to check up on him soon, if they were in the country. Before they left, Wanda told Happy that she was pregnant. She was going to name the boy Pietro. After his father. His second visitors were Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. With the Compound burnt to ash, Pepper had become Tony's secretary, though from the sound of it she was still continuing some of her old duties. Tony offered Happy a job as head of security. And Happy said yes. In a different wing of the hospital, James Rhodes was being wheeled out of his room by a nurse. In the parking lot, Bruce Banner was waiting to pick him up. The nurse offered to help James into the car, but he refused. It took time and effort, but the detective climbed next to his partner by himself. It was only a few steps, but to James Rhodes it felt like climbing a mountain. And when he was done, he smiled. As Banner drove off, he handed Rhodes a beer and a McDonald's cheeseburger. "Probably not the kind of welcome home part you imagined, huh?" asked Bruce, and Rhodes laughed. "Better," he said, as they drove past the collapsed ruins of 1963 Kirby Street, nothing but crumbling cement and twisted metal left. They were on their way to talk with the girls rescued from the Sin Bin, all of whom were to be returned to their families and loved ones as soon as they were questioned. Banner also had to check up on Steve Rogers, make sure they had all the information they needed to close the Kilgrave case forever. Once that was done, there was always the next case, and the next. For some, this was the middle. But for some? For some it was just the beginning. When May Parker came home from the Triskelion that night, Peter wasn't there. In his room, she found a letter and a check. The letter was one saying goodbye. The check was one saying that Peter Parker had left his aunt several thousand dollars, most of the money he had made in his short time at the Compound. May cried that night, but a part of her knew that it was what was better this way, for him if not for her. Things had to change. Peter Parker was waiting outside of Michelle Jones' apartment window when she woke up in the dead of night. She climbed down the fire escape and gave him a hug, before throwing her packed suitcases into the car Peter had rented with some of the money he kept from the Compound. "You sure about this?" he asked, as Michelle got into the passenger's seat next to him. She laughed, and put her hand over his. "There's nothing left for me here, Peter. Nothing left for you, either." Peter nodded, as excited as he was nervous. "Now let's get going before my dad wakes up," continued Michelle. "Sounds like a plan," Peter laughed, and they drove off together, leaving the past behind in search of a better future. In Oregon, Liz Allan sat in her new room, looking out the window and up at the stars. They were new stars, different compared to the ones in New York, but still beautiful. She and her mother had gone to live with Liz's grandmother. Liz didn't know it yet, but she was pregnant. Her child would be born happy and healthy, and the newborn and its mother and its mother's mother and its mother's grandmother would be a family together. They would be all each other had, and all each other needed. Liz's mother would ask for the child to be named Adrian, or Adrianna if it was a girl, but Liz refused, with her grandmother backing her up. It would be named Peter, she ended up declaring. And when Liz's mother would ask if that was the name of a boy Liz once knew, Liz would say that she never knew a boy named Peter. "It's just a nice name," she would say. "And if it's a girl? Maybe Betty." Kevin Thompson was buried in Green-Wood cemetery, next to the graves of his mother and father. Both were world renowned chemists. Both had died in a house fire when he was twelve years old. Kevin's grave had no marking besides his first name and a Bible verse. Matthew 6:13. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. It was not the beginning for him, and nor was it the end. In a way, Kevin had been dead for quite some time. Across the city, Sharon Carter opened the door to her aunt's car, sitting down next to the woman she had loved for the past decade. Peggy grinned at her, and gave her niece a kiss. "I wasn't sure if you were coming," said Peggy, and Sharon smiled sadly. Peggy had been getting better since everything that happened to her in the Sin Bin, but Sharon knew she would never be the same. Kilgrave had taken something from her, and she'd be lucky to ever get it back. And most nights... most nights she'd wake up in a cold sweat, sometimes screaming, sometimes crying, sometimes laughing. Most nights. But not all. Not this one. "I always come," replied Sharon with a smirk, and Peggy snorted. "Well, you're not wrong. So, where do you want to go? The whole world's our oyster." Anywhere. If it's with you. That was the answer Sharon had given all those years ago, and it was the answer she had been planning on giving again that night. But she didn't. "I've always wanted to see the Grand Canyon," replied Sharon, and Peggy smiled. "The Grand Canyon it is!" And they drove away, the moon bright and full above them, the sky clear of any clouds. Chapter End Notes That's all, folks. Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!