Chapter Text
You hadn’t bothered sneaking into Natasha’s house after the date. Between finishing a bottle of champagne between you and Wanda then knocking back two tequila shots, you knew your bed was the best place to be. Natasha isn’t too fond of drunkenness and she would have either sent you back home, scolded you some more, or taken care of you. You did not wish to find out. The next morning, however, you woke up earlier than usual. Maybe it’s the slight hangover or your anxiety to see Natasha, or her looming threats of punishment. Regardless, you reluctantly roll out of bed and prepare for the day ahead. Normally, you’d wear some type of shorts and tshirt with your swimsuit underneath. You weren’t lying about enjoying Natasha’s pool. It’s the perfect length for laps and you cherished the moments Natasha shamelessly oggled you from her lounge chair. Or, swimming up to the edge whenever she demands a kiss. But today’s look is a little different. Tying your hair into your best bun with two strands of hair dangling over your face, you manage a simple makeup routine. A copious amount of mascara (for Natasha’s sake), a quick winged liner, and spot correcting with concealer with a touch of lipgloss. Finding the short, red, floral, sundress your mom purchased earlier in summer, you wiggle your body into it. The material snuggly fits, accentuating the curves you’re determined to keep hiding. You don’t bother with underwear (something you know Natasha will tease you for.)
Grabbing your house keys and phone, you carefully walk down the stairs, scared you’ll tear the tight dress. Sliding your feet into your white converse then you’re out the door—heading over to the house, you’ve practically spent most of the summer in. By the time you reach the back gate, your nostrils are filled with delicious scents of food. Strange. Not that Natasha never cooks, but she usually waits until you’re there, so you can help. The most she’ll have prepared is a bowl of fruit and a cup of tea. The scents grow stronger, the closer you reach the sliding doors. The unmistakable scent of bacon assaults your nose first. Your stomach growls loudly. Did you miss something? Allowing your feet to carry you towards the source of the scents, you find Natasha setting the table with a stack of waffles (your favorite) with a spread of bacon and freshly cut watermelon. There’s a pitcher of orange juice and even some croissants from the bakery you’re constantly raving about.
Dropping your keys and phone on the nearest table, you set your shoes aside before getting closer to the kitchen table. Natasha lifts her head with the most loving smile ever, acknowledging your presence. The smile makes you stumble backwards and your heart races. You’re so confused. You did nothing to deserve such a welcoming. Rounding the table, you press a wary kiss on her cheek while inspecting the array of food. Natasha returns the gesture with a kiss to your forehead.
“Are you hungry, baby?” Natasha pats the small of your back, before pulling out a chair for you.
Despite your confusion, you lower yourself on the chair then stare up at her. “Uh, yeah, actually. What’s all of this?”
Your confusion must be written all over your face even more apparent than your words. Natasha chuckles before fixing you a plate then placing it in front of you. “It’s breakfast, silly. Have you never seen breakfast foods before?”
“I know what breakfast is, Nat. But why? You were so upset with me last night.” Your heart aches from the remembrance and you drop your eyes to your plate. “I didn’t expect all of my favorites.”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, okay? Just eat and let me take care of you.”
Cautiously nodding, not fully trusting her words, you break off a piece of bacon and pop it into your mouth. Wow. It’s perfect. Natasha takes her seat next to you, diligently watching as you consume your first bite. Her ears perk up—hearing an unmistakable moan leave your lips once you bite into a fork full of waffles. You roll your eyes playfully, knowing exactly where her dirty mind took her. Natasha drinks in your choice of attire. She’s extremely pleased with your tiny dress and collects the opportunity to place her hand on your thigh, rubbing circles on your inner thigh with her thumb. You instinctively jump at the contact and squeeze your legs together. Natasha tuts her tongue, waiting patiently for you to relax. Swallowing your bite, you spread your thighs once again, and Natasha resumes her actions. She doesn’t venture further than halfway, but the repeated sensation starts clouding your mind. It’s a little infuriating how quickly she can affect you. You know, she savors the power she holds over you. It makes her games easier.
Natasha’s fingertips dance over the hem over your dress. “You look positively gorgeous today, kitten. Did you get all dolled up for me?”
“Mhm. I’m happy you approve. I know it cannot make up for everything, but still…”
You reach for a slice of watermelon, but Natasha grabs one before you can. You stare at her actions—not bothering to protest. You need to be on your best behavior today. Natasha scoots her chair closer, her legs slotted between yours. She presents you with the watermelon and without hesitation, you bite into the fruit. Your eyes remain on Natasha’s face, trying to decipher...something. The woman has an excellent poker face and all you can read is desire and lust with a hint of tenderness. Some juices coat your lips and chin. Natasha shifts forward, gingerly kissing your lips, then licking away the sweetness from them. Simultaneously, her thumb cleans the residue on your chin. Your body relaxes and eases into the gesture. Some of the tension from earlier dissipates. Natasha pecks your lip once more. The naive part of your brain tells you—she’s no longer upset.
Natasha carefully tucks a strayed strand of hair behind your ear. “Don’t overstuff yourself. I have important plans for us today, kitten.” Her words could mean literally anything. But she speaks in such a hushed and softened tone, you start dropping your guard down.
You finish off your glass of orange juice—already comfortably full. You help her clean up and pack away the food. Even though Natasha prepared enough food for four people, it’ll all get eaten before you depart today. Your “extracurricular” activities always leave you famished and she realized quickly—it’s easier to have too much food than having to continuously whip something up, or order in. And she doesn’t mind either. It just tells her she's doing something right.
Packing the last dish into the dishwasher, you set it on it’s cycle and bounce excitedly on your heels. Natasha laughs softly and squeezes your arm. “Lead the way, dove.” Natasha is directly behind you as you ascend the stairs to her room. You almost forget you decided to forgo underwear until the minx brings it up.
“Kitten?”
You pause briefly on the stairs, looking over your shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Where’s your underwear?” Natasha snakes around you, so she’s now standing in front of you. It’s a tactical move as you’re forced to look up at her.
“Oh…I didn’t wear any today. I mean, technically I don’t ever have them on here. After my swim, you give me one of your shirts and shorts.
Natasha hums thoughtfully. “I wish I had known sooner. I would have loved to bent over the counter and fuck you senseless in that pretty dress.” She begins ascending the stairs again, as if nothing happened.
You blink your eyes in disbelief with your lips slightly parted. The image alone sends you into a frenzy and you can feel a slickness seeping on your inner thigh. Forcing yourself to focus, you catch up with Natasha, just as she’s reaching her door. Entering the bedroom, your eyes immediately land on the pair of leather cuffs linked to the head of the bedpost. Well, there goes your false security. You should’ve never dropped your guard and think Natasha would actually let you off the hook. She lured you with a delightful breakfast and sweet words and kisses. Oh, she’s a fucking genius. Even then, you’re a little intrigued on what the woman has in store. She’s restrained you a couple times. Mostly with silky ties, or hemp rope (you both enjoy seeing the leftover marks), but nothing as drastic as the cuffs. You refrain from making any comments, sounds, or sudden shifts in your behavior. You don’t want her to see much of your reactions yet.
Natasha wraps an arm around your waist—her front almost touching your back—and begins her feather kisses up the side of your neck. Intertwining your fingers with hers, you slightly turn your head to catch her lips. Surprisingly, she allows it. And she actually smiles into it. The action grants you the access to slide your tongue into her mouth. Natasha let’s out a lowly laugh.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, kitten.” Natasha’s lips return to your neck. “You should cherish this.”
“Huh?” Your other thoughts are postponed when the hand interlocked with Natasha’s starts traveling up your body. She squeezes at one of your breasts. It’s not as rough as you’re used to either. All of Natasha’s actions are almost cautious? You wonder why she’s treating you extra fragile today. Or pampering you. You’re not entirely complaining, but it’s not a norm.
Natasha starts pushing your dress off your shoulders—kissing where the fabric once touched. Her lips linger every time as if she’s memorizing the feel on them. Once the dress pools around your feet, you instantly step out of it and kick it aside. Natasha undoes your bun, loving any given opportunity to have her fingers in your hair. “Go ahead and lie down. I’ll be right there.”
You swiftly follow instructions, crawling to the head of the bed. You don’t need her to say where exactly on the bed, because you both know you saw the cuffs. While Natasha’s stripping to her underwear (an act you wished to be a part of) and rummaging through her closet—you properly inspect the leather cuffs. They’re a deep, gorgeous burgundy color and the leather almost shines. The gold buckles popped the color even more. The cuffs were quite beautiful and from what you can tell, rather expensive. It makes you feel boastful that Natasha would use only the best on you. Anything for my best girl. You can practically hear her purring the words into your ear. The thought alone causes you to tighten your thighs and moan a little.
“What’s the matter, princess? What’s got you riled up already?” Natasha is always hyper focused on you. She hears and notices a lot more than she lets on.
You contemplate lying again, but that’s what got you into this situation. “You…and these cuffs. They’re gorgeous.”
“Yeah? You like them?” Natasha now comes into view with a decent sized dildo in hand (one you haven’t seen before) and situates herself on the bed, straddling your legs. “They reminded me of you. Breathtaking in every way.”
God, what is it with her today? She’s definitely not shy about complimenting, or praising you, but it’s sending you into an even more submissive space than usual. All you crave now is more of her undivided affection and praise. Natasha kisses your very visibly perplexed forehead.
“You're too young for wrinkles. Stop it.”
Her command, though stern, is filled with sincerity and care. You mutter a faint apology, but she presses a finger to your lip. “It’s okay. I’m not mad. C’mon. Let’s get you into these.”
Lifting your arms, Natasha starts securing your wrists into their restraints. She’s hovering over you, and you cannot resist kissing her chest that’s on display a mere inch from your lips. Shifting upward, you begin gingerly peppering kisses across her exposed cleavage. Natasha doesn’t budge, or falter from her mission. Not too pleased, you bite into her skin and suck on the mark. She accidentally over-tightens a cuff on your wrist, causing you to pull back with a hiss.
“Sorry, kitten.” Natasha loosens it quickly. “Maybe next time, you’ll learn not to play when I’m concentrating.”
You almost, almost roll your eyes. You made a promise to yourself to be on your best behavior. It doesn’t stop you from testing out the restraints and tugging defiantly on them. Natasha shakes her head with an amused expression. She runs her hand down the side of your body. Her eyes drink up the sight of you, naked and available to do as she pleases. You squirm under her stare. You’re already on edge just from it and her light touch. Natasha moves lower down, now sitting a little above your knees. One of her wandering hands finds itself massaging extremely close to your already dripping cunt. You’re certain, if she moves any higher, she’ll feel your wetness on your skin. Natasha, however, pauses her ministrations. Instead, you watch as she snakes her hand between her own legs and pushes a finger through her folds.
You try rubbing your legs together to suppress the throbbing sensation, but Natasha’s weight on your thighs prevents such. All you can do is watch and moan in protest as Natasha begins teasing her own clit. Your eyes flick from her face to her hand. Her mouth slightly opens as she gathers the growing slickness from her hole and brings it to her clit, setting a slow and steady pace. You wiggle your hips underneath her and her eyes snap open. They’re hazier than usual.
“Does my pet want something? You can ask.” Natasha's smugness radiates off of her tone and entire being.
Her words and her smirk tell you two different things. Instead, you shake your head. “No. I just like watching you.”
“I wouldn’t speak so fast.” In a blink, Natasha removes her hand from her cunt and sinks her soaking fingers inside of you. She quickly covers your mouth before you’re able to moan your approval. The woman uses her hips to push her fingers deeper. It’s embarrassing that without much foreplay you’re already sopping wet and ready for her. Just being in her presence turns you on. She spreads her fingers inside of you, drinking in your reactions.
“You’re already so wet for me, baby. I thought surely I’d need to warm you up more.”
The redhead reaches for the dildo behind your head. You can now see it’s a double ended one. There’s a smaller curved end for the wearer. You know, it would perfectly hit the g-spot with each stroke.
“Is that for me?” Your words are almost lost in a whine when Natasha removes her fingers.
“No, kitten. Today isn’t about you.” Natasha spreads your legs, so she can kneel between them. She takes the smaller end of the toy and lines it up with your entrance. “Take a deep breath for me.” You do as told right as Natasha nudges the curved piece inside of you. It’s definitely not the biggest thing, she’s put inside of you, but it still takes a second to adjust to the new sensation.
Natasha pats your cheek as she repositions herself on your thighs. “You’re gonna be a good pet and watch Mommy take care of herself, okay?”
You wish you could find the voice to protest. But the image of Natasha hovering over the dildo then gradually lowering herself onto it makes you forget momentarily how to speak. You practically cum when you can feel her leaking all over your cunt too. Natasha doesn’t move quite yet, allowing herself to adapt to the feeling. You reach out, in an attempt to grab her hips, but forget the cuffs. She’s seemingly entertained by the action and rolls her hips once. The small movement is felt inside of you too. Gritting your teeth, you look up at her with the biggest pout and saddened eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that, baby. I did inform you about a punishment today.” Natasha slowly moves her hips, wanting to revel in the feeling and take her time.
You can think of a million other ways, you’d rather be punished. You were itching to touch her, grab her, and kiss her. Your hands were supposed to be playing with her clit, or her nipples—making her feel extra good. Not bound above your head. “Natasha…please.”
Natasha fakes a pout of her own. “Already begging? You must really wanna touch me.” Her eyes darted to the cuffs. “But I can’t do that. You’re lucky, I’m feeling nice, or I’d blindfold and gag you too.”
The mere thought nearly brings you to tears. No, that would be too cruel. You buck your hips up, forcing the dildo deeper into Natasha. The woman’s hand drops to your chest to keep from falling over.
“I’m not in the mood for a brat today.” She squeezes your nipple, slightly twisting it. “You can either be a good girl and lay pretty. Or I’ll be forced to take drastic measures. I don’t want to hurt you today, kitten. Can you just behave until I’m done, hmm? Mommy really needs this.”
Natasha’s words hit a sensitive spot, because you were supposed to be on your best behavior. That’s what you told yourself. You wanted to prove you could be a good girl and actually take her punishment. So, you nod and watch as the woman smiles her appreciation before continuing to roll her hips into you. With each movement, even the slightest one, the end inside of you rubs perfectly against your g-spot. You’re not even sure if you’re allowed to cum, so you focus more on Natasha. Her hips move fluidly, never once missing a beat. You can already see sweat glistening on her skin—making you wish you could lick every inch of it. Her breasts taunt you as they bounce with her movements and her nipples perk—asking to be licked and played with. She’s so fucking wet that you can no longer tell what’s your wetness and what’s hers. Your hands are actually itching with the need to feel every part of her. You wish you could wrap your arms around her waist, pulling her flush to hear those delicious pants and moan in your ear.
She glances down at you and cups your cheek, wiping some tears away. You hadn’t even realized those were there. “I love that you cry whenever I refuse to let you touch me. It makes me feel so special. You make me feel special, baby. Someone as gorgeous and brilliant as you choosing to spend her time with me.” Her words unexpectedly bring more tears to your eyes. “Oh, look at you. You’re so beautiful.”
Natasha’s movements become a little more frantic and desperate as she’s spurred on by your own frustration. That doesn't help you either. You yank forcefully at the cuffs as you arch your back. You’re tethering dangerously close to the edge.
“Don’t even think about it.” Natasha pants the words out. Even with her own orgasm on the horizon, she can still recognize the tell-tale signs of you reaching close.
You tightly shut your eyes, once you see Natasha tugging at her own nipple and playing with her clit. You cannot possibly take in that sight anymore. Every moan of hers, the way your name sounds on her lips spurs you on. The sensation of her, not only fucking herself, but fucking you too drives you up the wall. You cannot bring yourself to look—no matter how much you want too. But it seems like the woman has other plans. Natasha leans forward, barely managing to kiss you.
“Open your eyes. I want you to see how good you’re making me feel. Don’t you wanna see Mommy cum all over your dick?”
Your eyes open in a rush as you kiss her back passionately to the best of your ability. “Fuck, yes, yes I do. I can’t hold out much longer.”
Natasha straightens up her position as she resumes rubbing her pussy and bouncing on the toy. “You know what to do. Beg.”
How can you beg—when you’re literally lost for words? Your dumb little brain cannot comprehend anything, but Natasha and how good everything feels. You still haven’t stopped crying either. The tears just keep rolling down your cheek and wetting your shoulder. You’re well aware—your mascara definitely stained your face too, but that’s why you wore this one. Natasha’s legs begin twitching and somehow that sends you into overdrive. You know she’s close. So are you. If you could cum together, that would make up for not having access to her.
“Oh god…” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, as she manages to turn on the vibrating aspect of the toy. “Natasha, fuck…I can’t…please. Fuck, please. Please, let me cum. I’m so close. Please.”
“No. You look too pretty like this. Nice begging, kitten. Mommy approves.” Natasha jerks her hips forward once with the added vibration sends her over the edge. You watch through blurry, watery eyes as the woman brings herself to completion. A beautiful string of moans leave her lips that are intermingled with your name and praising how good you feel around her. You clench pathetically around the toy, hoping—praying, she’ll grant you grace.
A foolish prayer. Once Natasha has her fill and stops grinding in your hips, she carefully removes the dildo out of her, moaning as she’s left with an empty feeling. She turns the toy off, before pulling it out from you too. You whimper pathetically. Natasha tosses the toy aside and sits her soaked cunt on your thigh. Fuck. Yup, this is how you die. Natasha teasingly slides herself up your thigh. Consequently, her legs continuously brushes against your sensitive sex. You widen your leg, in hope of getting more friction. She simply smirks. That devious, seductive smirk. You’d do anything to kiss it away. Natasha's movements are too inconsistent and slow to give you any release, but it doesn’t stop you from seeking it out. You try enticing her by barely rolling your hips to meet her thigh. You enticed her alright. Enticed her to stop giving you what you needed.
You buck your hips in frustration when Natasha stops rocking her thigh into you. The action is futile. Natasha’s mind is already made up—evident from your twice denied orgasm. Instead, Natasha begins unbuckling your wrists from their hold.
“I’m sorry, bunny, but you don’t get to cum tonight.” She helps you lower your first arm. “You denied me last night.”
Sniffling, you weakly rub your runny nose on your shoulder. You’re too exhausted and frustrated to even care. Natasha watches you sympathetically as she continues her task. “I thought, I could go home and take care of myself without your help. But it turns out, kitten, I do need you.”
Your other wrist is set free and placed by your side. You vaguely register what Natasha is saying, or is insinuating with her words. A cooling sensation starts soothing your skin and you realize Natasha is wiping you clean with baby wipes. It’s her medium ground. Or, that’s what you referred to it as. The woman understands you’re too spent to even roll over, let alone stand up for 10 minutes in the shower. So, you both settled on her wiping you clean with the baby wipes then after a nap, you’d take a shower. You offer the faintest smile. She pecks your lips and begins talking again.
“Instead of spending the night with me, you were with her and I suffered the most. The pain was insufferable, kitten. No matter how many fingers, or what toy I used—all I truly wanted and needed was you. My precious angel that’s always touching me whenever they can. Or throws a small tantrum when I deny them a simple kiss. You always know how to make me feel good. But you didn’t make me feel good last night.”
Natasha tosses the wipes into the bedside trash can. Her fingers stroke at your cheek, staring deeply into your eyes. “You’ve become too important to me. So important that my body only reacts to you. That’s why this is your punishment. Do you understand?”
“Yes. I’m so sorry.” You grab aimlessly for Natasha’s waist, just hoping she’ll come cuddle with you.
“Good to hear. You were such a good girl today. You took Mommy’s punishment without much fuss. I promise to make it up to you.” Natasha lays on her back before rolling you into her side. You immediately tuck your face into her neck, draping an arm around her stomach. She presses a kiss to your temple then begins stroking your back with her fingers as you’re both lulled into a deep sleep.