A Widows Web

Synopsis:

Black Widow Natasha Romanoff of Avengers fame discovers her girlfriend secretly trying on her bodysuit.

Author's Note:

A story I wrote for a client. I hope it satisfies.

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A WIDOW'S WEB

"Where the Hell is it?" I cried out with exasperation. The searing pain in my shoulder was becoming progressively harder to bear.

Droplets pattered the windshield as dense clouds obscured my vision. I grit my teeth, slowly pulling up on the throttle to level the Quinjet's descent. Yet, the Avenger's compound was nowhere in sight.

"Damn it all," I cursed in Russian.

Tony had offered every one of us a piece of his nanotech to protect ourselves from bullets and the like. I had rejected his offer, saying something arrogant like, "I dodge bullets for breakfast" or "It's not my style." I couldn't remember which, but I was regretting it now nonetheless.

Thankfully, the injury wasn't life-threatening. My target Victor Nazorski, a remnant of HYDRA, leaped to his death off the Andreyevsky Bridge, but not before twisting around in a panic and shooting at me twice. He missed me entirely, but one bullet apparently ricocheted off a steel beam and struck my upper shoulder in some dashing twist of fate. The bad guys seemed to be getting all the luck these days.

Then, suddenly, there it was! The sun broke through the clouds and lit up the control panel. Just below was the unmistakable giant donut with an "A" in the middle, a helipad, glass windows, green lawns, and an empty parking lot.

The Avenger's Compound. Home.

"About time," I muttered.

Clint's voice would have come through on the intercom right about now, greeting me with some friendly jive. But no, he wouldn't be there to welcome me. Neither would Steve. After all that had happened, usually no one was there.

Well, that wasn't entirely true.

"Alice, are you there? I'm coming in now," I spoke into my headset, tapping at the red communications button.

If there was one person I could count on being there, it was Alice.

"Alice, are you there?" I called out. "Come on, I need you, hon!"

I rescued Alice in one of my missions late last year. Crap of colossal proportions hit the fan in almost every country after the Mad Titan's fateful snap. And Alice, a young woman who had little left after an assault of bombs, automatic weapons, and biochemical gas had taken the lives of her family and boyfriend, became attached to me and would not leave my side. I was so busy with my missions that I almost didn't take her with me. But I did. And she compensated me by handling secretarial tasks, communications, and even cooking at the headquarters while I was gone, all things that I didn't know I needed until recently. And when I realized I needed actually help in these trying times, I decided to make her my official apprentice.

That said, somewhere along the way, she also became my lover.

"Ms. Romanoff, is that you!" Her mousy voice finally came through on the intercom. Relief washed over me.

"Alice, I'm back! Would you open the bay doors for me?" I asked. "Please hurry."

"S-sure, one second."

I tapped a series of glowing buttons on the controls to activate the auto-landing AI.

What a day.

The jet landed neatly on the concrete, the pressurized doors sliding open. Wasting no time, I walked out of the back ramp, clutching my shoulder despite my high pain tolerance. Maybe I was just getting older? Or maybe I was depressed? Or both.

The glass doors to the compound beeped, clicked, and opened. Out ran a meek, young woman with platinum-blond hair, blue eyes, and pale skin. Her hair flowed long and thread-like, tumbling over her bare shoulders and waist. Her visage was clean and beautiful with dark freckles. And her undernourished figure, hidden beneath a dress and a blouse, had finally filled out a bit since I last saw her.

"Oh gosh, Ms. Romanoff, you're hurt," Alice cried out in her recognizable Sokovian accent. She dove at me tearfully then caught me in a warm embrace. I shouldn't have been surprised, but my lips curled into a smile anyway. She was just that sort of person.

"It's just a scratch," I lied. "This is nothing."

"It doesn't look like it," Alice said. "Your suit ripped there too--"

"I wouldn't call that a rip. Alice, it's reinforced Kevlar and synthetic leather. Really, I'm okay."

"I guess..."

All of a sudden she was out of words. She was a timid soul, I knew that. She was shy when I rescued her. She was shy when I gave her the card key to her own room here at the Avenger's compound. I was no fool--I was trained to spot infatuation and to take advantage of it too. Not that I would do it with a soul as innocent as her.

"Alice," I said. "I'm going to wash up. I've had a long day."

"Of course! Are you sure you don't need help?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Though, how about make me one of your, you know, those egg sandwiches? I like those."

"Okay!" She replied with bright-eyed enthusiasm. "I'll make them immediately, Ms. Romanoff!"

"You don't have to call me that, Alice," I chuckled. "I've told you, just Nat is fine."

"O-Oh, sorry."

"You're alright."

It was cute that she was so shy around me despite caring so much. Frankly, it was exactly what I needed right now. Someone like Alice who I could trust unconditionally, who wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon. An anchor.

I turned the corner down the carpeted hall. I was hungry, yes, but my whole body ached. I wanted nothing more than to flop my body whole and squirm nakedly in the privacy of my bed. Then, sleep and forget. Gods willing, my dreams might show me a bright past or a brighter future. I didn't care which.

My room was almost exactly as I left it. Almost. Had Alice been dusting my wardrobe? I didn't care. I immediately threw off my boots, tore off my gloves, and hurried to the bathroom. The shower valves squeaked as I turned them, fragrant steam immediately wafting out into the bedroom. With a grunt, I reached up with my good arm and pulled down the zipper of my bodysuit, feeling a chill on my skin as the fabric gave away. I carefully pulled the suit from my wounded shoulder down to my breasts, wincing from the pain. There was blood for sure. But I didn't feel like looking at the damage just yet.

Instead, my gaze was drawn to the mirror above the sink. The person looking back at me was myself, Natasha Romanoff. Her eyes were green, her nose a button, and her lips full and pink. Her wavy hair now tumbled red and dark, replacing the fading blond locks she had dyed the prior year. Her skin was paler with some eyebags from late nights. And yet for some reason--I laughed as I wiped the steam from the mirror--the pimple on her right cheek was still there.

Thereupon I slipped the remainder of my bodysuit off and threw it out the door where it landed on the bed. My black bra and panties followed, revealing breasts peaked with pink buttons and a tousled mound of trimmed scarlet. My nude self was nothing special, I thought, especially with the scars.

"It's not the years, it's the mileage," I said to my reflection.

I stepped in. The water from the showerhead was hot and inviting as it tumbled over me like liquid heaven.

"Oh?" I raised a brow.

Blood washed away from my shoulder and swirled into the drain below, revealing a much less serious wound. The bullet that I thought was lodged there had merely grazed my shoulder, leaving a ghastly but ultimately harmless cut. I was relieved, but also concerned that I might really be losing my touch.

Then Alice's voice rang through the doorway I had left wide-open.

"Ms. Romanoff--err, I mean Nat, I left the sandwiches on the kitchen counter. Do you want me to wash your clothes?"

"Would you?" I replied through the shower door. "It's not urgent, but I appreciate it. My suitcase is in the jet."

"R-right."

I didn't mind Alice wandering into my room while I was bathing. As I said, we were lovers. And I liked to think we had a rather close physical relationship, even if Alice was still shy about it. I had to admit, she was inexplicably more feminine than myself.

The peach-scented steam intoxicated me as the minutes passed. I completely lost track of time.

Showers were a private ceremony to lose myself in, a private time in which only me and the hot water mattered. And for this brief moment, lathering myself with soap, I thought to reach between my thighs and enjoy just a little bit more than a mere wash.

That is, until I realized the shampoo bottle was absent, and I remembered that I had left the travel size one in my toiletries bag in the bedroom. I cursed under my breath.

"Alice, are you there?" I called out.

"Oh, um, yes," she replied.

"Would you do me a favor and get me the small shampoo bottle from my red bag? Just put it on the sink."

"Oh, s-sure."

"Thanks."

"Um, where is the red bag?"

"It's on the left side of the bed, next to the nightstand."

"I'm looking, but I don't..." Her voice faded as I heard a shuffling of fabric.

The conditioner was missing as well. I was usually very good at keeping my shower stocked. Had someone else been using my bathroom? Alice perhaps?

Fine, I'll do it myself.

I waved my palm over the Stark Industries-branded motion sensor, and the glass shower door automatically slid open. Leaving the water running, I stepped out of the tub and grabbed a bathrobe from the wall, hurriedly tying it around my waist before heading out the door.

"Alice, nevermind. I'll get it--"

Until today, I knew myself quite well. I had been trained from youth to have a certain intoxicating effect on people, to manipulate them, and read their hearts and souls like textbook tattoos. Imagine my surprise when I came face to face not with the mirror, but myself. Her back faced me, and she was dressed in my blue-black leather catsuit, filling out every curve neatly in her immaculate, hourglass figure. The noon sunlight struck the swell of her glistening and shapely bottom. Her long legs filled out the tall, dark boots. And the black straps wrapped tightly around her legs and back, the glossy seams exaggerating every bend and swell of her slim body.

No, wait. It was not me after all.

Her long, platinum hair betrayed her. And like a deer in headlights, Alice slowly turned her head with an expression I could scarce describe. I opened my mouth first.

"Alice, are you wearing my suit?" I inquired with an upturned brow.

Alice, for a moment, seemed to be at a loss for words. Her lip curled and quivered, as if expecting a scolding or beratement.

She wasn't wearing the damaged suit, but rather one of the spares from my luggage. The zipper on her chest was only half-zipped, exposing her middling cleavage to a degree that I would never dare.

But more than the fact that she was wearing it was the realization that she looked as good as she did.

"I, uh, I wanted to try it," she finally replied. "I like your suit."

Her voice trembled with fear.

I licked my lips.

So, she liked my suit, did she? She didn't know it, but she was now a girl who had unwittingly wrapped herself in a tight, dark web from which there was no escape.

"And... you didn't think to ask?" I asked coyly, slowly approaching.

"I didn't think you would let me."

"That's right, I wouldn't."

"I'm s-sorry, M-Ms. Romanoff." She looked down. "I'll just take it off..."

"No, I don't think you will," I said. "You're the one who put it on. So you're going to keep it on."

Alice was plastered in place, unable to handle my approach. We were relatively intimate, but I don't think I had ever treated her in this manner before--the way I would seduce complete strangers for covert operations before knocking them out cold. Then again, I had every right to be mad, as she was wearing what was mine. Yet--

"Ms. Romanoff," Alice asked. "Are you mad?"

I stood a mere inch before her, standing tall over her five foot and three inch stature. My breath tousled her feathery, blond locks.

"I am totally pissed off."

Then, I tugged her collar with a most gentle yank and kissed her long and deep. My nose brushed against hers as I took in a great breath, taking her scent along with her taste. I slipped my tongue into her open mouth and suckled her bottom lip with a gratuitous violence and longing that must have frightened her. Her body tensed when I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her closer into a passive-aggressive embrace, stroking the tip of my tongue along her, until thickened clear threads bridged our mouths.

"I told you to call me, Nat," I whispered.

She was flushed like a beet, her eyes half-lidded and breath heavy. Her chin was soaked with my saliva. But Alice's audible heartbeat betrayed her thoughts. Was I angry or not? I wasn't about to tell her. At this moment, she did not deserve my honesty.

"Alice, you're going to lay on the bed face up. Since you're wearing my suit, this is your bed now."

Alice nodded cautiously and laid on the red and white sheets. She stared right back at me, then averted her gaze, then back to me again. Her slender thighs shifted uncomfortably, the glossy black fabric accentuating her figure. Did I actually look like this? It was difficult to admit, but I could not believe how attractive she looked in my black combat suit, and my heart fluttered with affection and darkness both when I realized such a demure person was completely at my mercy.

I had thought to pleasure myself briefly in the shower, but this would do. Yes, this would do perfectly.

I crawled from the foot of the bed and hovered over Alice, face to face. Beads of water fell from my hair to her hot cheek, and her lashes blinked at the chill. Breath hot and heavy, I felt the invisible hand of gravity unravel my robe ever so slightly, whereupon Alice's bashful gaze stole a glance at my dripping breasts.

"Ms. Romanoff--"

"No," I interrupted. "You're getting punished until you get it right."

Blades of sunlight patterned Alice's glossy suit as she lay. She looked up at me with the most delightful mix of distress and eagerness, that for the next indeterminate number of minutes, she would be completely mine to please or destroy. And I needed no Infinite Stone as I understood completely the intoxicating power of my dominance, and I would let her know it.

I spread her arms wide open and bade her keep them that way, exposing her neck and chest. Her muscles visibly tensed as I kissed and suckled the nape of her neck all the way down, from the tip of her chin down to the top of her clavicle. She cried out as I did so, mewling and gasping every time my teeth grazed her skin. She writhed and squirmed, and seemed to want to touch me, but Alice gripped at the sheets instead, twisting them until her knuckles turned white.

Then came the zipper on her chest. I pulled it down, but so slowly that I could hear every last click--

click, click, click

--revealing glimmers of sweat behind the black leather curtain. I lapped up these salty beads as they appeared. And Alice visibly shuddered, her breath so rapid I could swear she was panicking.

But there was something more here. Alice couldn't have been this busty, was she? I pulled the zipper down a few more notches and discovered her wearing my black brassiere as well. I shook my head.

"How dare you," I whispered.

I pulled away the fabric roughly from her dainty shoulders, exposing pale skin. She shut her eyes and looked away as I snuck my fingers beneath the bra and fondled her breasts. Her sepia nipples stood commanding and erect in the steamy air, begging to be handled.

I handled them. My fingers pressed the firm nubs down, fondling her areola between my fingernails. I was gentle at first, pressing her pliable mounds in my palms as I kissed her naked shoulders.

"Uhm," she mewled.

I flicked the tender flesh roughly with my fingernails and pinched them hard while biting her skin, leaving teeth marks everywhere I cared to. Alice cried out as I kneaded her left nipple between my thumb and forefinger, then I flicked it just so, enjoying the lively bounce of her breast. She bit her lip and gasped, clutching the sheets.

"N-Nat--!"

"Much better."

Then I let her breasts rest from my fondling, and she fell flat and heavy on the bed. A cold sweat had broken out upon her brow as I gave the sighing Alice a moment's reprieve, kissing her chin as a reward.

Be that as it may, I was not done with Alice yet. In fact, I decided we had only just begun. The familiar ache in my core had intensified, and I was eager for my own release now and no later.

For a brief moment, I dropped my act.

"Alice, would you shimmy down a little lower, if you could?"

She looked at me in confusion. Then, she adjusted her body downward, her head now off the pillow and facing my abdomen

"That'll do. Thank you," I smiled.

I straddled Alice. Then I opened the front of my robe, exposing myself completely, all the way from my heaving breasts, to my toned abdomen, down to my trimmed mound just below me. Alice blushed again and averted her gaze from my vulva, as if out of a politeness.

But I didn't want politeness; I wanted to sit on her face and mash myself all over it. I did just that.

Her hot breath blew against my pubis, and I moaned hard as I ground myself vigorously along her nose and chin, gripping her tight by the hair.

"Oh-Oh God," I muttered.

We had never done this before.

I clutched her hair as I ground my pubis into her face, as if to deepthroat her with my clit, if such a thing was possible. The haze of pleasure made me delirious, and for a second I willingly ignored that Alice might pass out from asphyxiation.

"That's a good girl, Alice," I moaned.

I felt Alice's tongue form a bed as she lapped at me. This too I sat on, once again relying on the invisible hand of gravity as I undulated my hips with an increasing pace, feeling her rough tongue sluicing between my swollen labia and striking my clit with sparks of orgasmic pleasure.

I bore down harder. The bed creaked over and over. I heard her mumble something inaudible beneath me, but I ignored it. Yes, the end of the tunnel was almost here. I shut my eyes and grit my teeth. I let go of Alice's hair as my entire body seized, and I was crushed with waves of pleasure.

"Mmm!!"

I cried out and arced my back, heat and pleasure oozing from every pore in my body. I gushed over Alice's tongue and chin, and rode every enjoyable second out, coating Alice's face in my essence. I gasped once, then once more. Then, finally, I fell forward and basked in the afterglow of release. I had needed this. So much.

"Oh God," I gasped. "Oh God, Alice."

I looked under me. Alice's once-immaculate hair was disheveled from my grip, splayed over the pillow. Her glistening face was wet with soap, water, and my own fluids. She was also licking her lips.

Was Alice enjoying this? Well then, so much the better, I thought.

"You're okay, aren't you?" I said with a wry smile. "You know I'm not done with you yet."

"You're not?" Alice was incredulous.

"No. If you've decided to be my girlfriend, then you have to play the part. We're going all the way."

I saw Alice gulp.

Yes, I wasn't done. It took more than a single orgasm to relieve my stress from the last few weeks. Besides, I was in a generous sort of mood. I couldn't well let Alice go without an orgasm of her own, could I?

"Wait here a moment," I said.

I left the bed and went to my wardrobe, looking for a special instrument. What I was looking for I couldn't quite say. It wasn't something I usually carried on my person. In my Widow days, I sometimes used such objects in unusual missions of a more sexual nature. But I was a proud Avenger now, and I probably no longer had such things lying around.