Chattel 3

“I can feel your… cock holding my pussy lips open,” Felicia gasped. “God—it’s amazing! No matter how I spasm, I’m just so FULL!”

Heat washed over Mary Jane, but she tried to fight it, knowing there was no satisfying it. She refused to go along with whatever this was, so she just watched them come, feeling both disgust and envy.

As soon as Peter came out of Felicia, she collapsed, spent from her exertion. She would’ve fallen right on top of Mary Jane if Peter didn’t catch her and hold her up, cradling the dizzy woman in her arms. Just the look in her eyes told Mary Jane that Felicia’s head was spinning, the ecstasy of her orgasm still having its way with her. Then she felt Peter’s eyes on her and she shut her own, refusing to make eye contact with him.

“I could make her clean you off, if you wanted,” Peter said, and Felicia moaned distantly. “You’d have to clean me off, though. But we could stop there. I don’t mind taking things slow. You could just share my bed. Tell Felicia what positions you want her in when I fuck her next. She’s very fun to dominate. Flexible too.”

“Never,” Mary Jane spat. “I might’ve dated you once, but I’m not interested in some kind of Sexual Olympics.”

Peter grunted a laugh. “Is that what I’m smelling in the air? Your disinterest? Heh. Have it your way. We’ll be back tomorrow night to see if you’ve changed your mind. I hope I don’t have to use the webbing again, but I’d hate for Felicia to think you’re a poor audience. She wouldn’t put on a show like that for just anyone. She really does want to share—you should appreciate how generous she is, considering how you behaved when the shoe was on the other foot.”

Mary Jane couldn’t take it anymore. “Fuck you, Parker! You’re insane!”

“What’s crazier? To admit what you really are or to try and pretend you’re something you’re not? You sleep on it. I have to tuck Felicia in. Don’t worry, I won’t let her get up to anything without you there to chaperone.”

***

There was no sleeping after what Peter had shown her. After an interminable wait for the webbing to dissolve, Mary Jane showered hard and dressed in clean clothes. As businesslike and as far from sexual as her wardrobe would allow.

Next, she got a rideshare to Avengers Mansion. She knew about the discrete entrance in the alley a block away and had an apparent business card that really held a microchip. It pinged the scanner and got her into the sallyport, where the Avenger on monitor duty was able to buzz her in, which She-Hulk did.

Inside, Mary Jane tried to comport herself. She didn’t want to talk about something like this with Jarvis—with anyone. She allowed the butler to serve her, then insisted on speaking to Jen alone, off the record, about a disciplinary matter.

The Gammazon showed MJ to her office, a private home-after-from-home for remote work that made Mary Jane feel a bit more comfortable. Here she wouldn’t be judged, but she would be taken seriously. Seated across from She-Hulk with a mug of coffee in her hand, Mary Jane explained all that had happened, starting from the beginning.

Remembering how Peter had feverishly fucked the Black Cat, strange excitement pulsed in her blood again. It was all she could do to block out the full details of seeing his massive shaft pierce Felicia’s sweet pussy.

As dispassionately as Mary Jane tried to relay all that had been said and done, it was impossible not to feel flushed as she recalled that silky, tawny flesh rippling and sweating and prickling with the unimaginable pleasure Peter was subjecting it too. As fresh as it was in her mind, so too were the memories of when it had been her Peter was inside. Had she really been as cock-drunk as Felicia had ended up—or had Peter been going easy on her all these years?

What’s worse was that Jen pressed her on every detail, writing down one thing after another on her notepad, frequently asking Mary Jane what she thought Felicia was experiencing. MJ was forced to clarify, repeatedly, that Peter had done nothing against Felicia’s wishes. She had enjoyed it all, extensively, and even when he caused her pain, it was in a way that Felicia welcomed, even begged for.

Mary Jane was even forced to admit that there had been times when she herself had shared that kind of rough lovemaking with Peter—though at the time, Peter had been reluctant so subject her to such intensive treatment.

“But you would’ve welcomed more fetishistic sex acts,” Jen asked. “Just as Felicia seemed to be onboard with how Peter was treating her? There was no coercion, no sign that he was forcing her in any way—?”

“No, just me!” Mary Jane insisted. “I didn’t want to watch them have sex, he tied me up, he wouldn’t let me leave, he made me watch them!”

“Did he force your eyes open?”

“What?”

“Like in A Clockwork Orange. Did he prevent you from closing your eyes?”

“No, of course not, but they were right on top of me, I could hear them grunting and moaning and all the things they said to each other—”

“So you were listening to them?”

“Of course! They were in my bed!”

Jen nodded. “When you were in a relationship with Peter, did he ever consensually bind you in the way he did last night?”

Mary Jane set her coffee cup aside before she could spill it. “Oh, Jesus Christ!”

“I’m just asking what any decent lawyer would, assuming Peter hires one. This all sounds like a sex game that went south—”

“I never wanted to play any kind of sex game with them! I told them I didn’t want to!”

“Did they touch you in any way?”

“Touch?” Mary Jane repeated. “Peter’s cum sloshed all over me, it ran right out of that bitch’s cunt—”

“You were wearing a nightie, some other sleepwear?”

“Yes!”

“Do you still have it?”

MJ could see where she was going with this. “I washed it off. And I showered.”

“You didn’t take any photos of yourself? Inform the police?”

“I didn’t want to make it a police matter! I thought Peter was sick or under a spell—you know how it goes. It could even be a Skrull!”

“So you’re excusing his behavior?”

“Yes. No! I’m saying there must be a good reason for him to act that way.”

“Like he was responding to an overture of yours—”

“Oh, fuck off!” Mary Jane lunged out of her chair, walking over to the corner where she hung her head with her arms braced against the walls.