Chattel

Mary Jane awoke to a low moaning. Her first thought was that someone was hurt, that Peter was hurt, and that he’d come to her needing to be patched up, as she’d done a thousand times back when they were… but no, he wouldn’t. She didn’t even know what he was up to now that they were broken up.

Only that Spider-Man had been spotted chasing the Black Cat around again. With Peter taking the photos, it was like he was telling her about it directly.

She opened her eyes. There was Felicia, and Mary Jane had never seen anything like it the whole time Felicia had been her frenemy. Sweaty, voluptuous, and fully naked, Felicia was on all fours, only wearing her mask as she shared Mary Jane’s space upon the bed. The woman was practically on top of her, only not touching MJ because she had to stay up to keep taking Peter’s thrusts.

Oh yes, Peter was behind her. He was on his knees, his hands on Felicia’s hips, and as Felicia moaned obscenities, tossing her silver hair this way and that, Peter gave her plenty to vocalize about. Pumping into her with loud smacks of their flesh joining, all while Mary Jane was so close to Felicia’s reaction that she could feel Felicia’s rushing breaths pass over her lips.

Seeing Mary Jane’s eyes opened, Felicia smiled at her. “He’s inside me, Red,” the cat burglar cooed. “And you know how good that feels… only he’s using me like he owns me… cuz he does… you never got that side of Spider, did you? You got his love… oooh… I get to be his cock-holster…”

Mary Jane’s first impulse was to scream. What was this? Some fucked up dream? Was Peter possessed? Then why would Felicia go along with it? Were they both Skrulls? But who would know about her and Peter, and who would want to do this to her? To mock her with—she didn’t even care if Peter and Felicia were seeing each other again. She just didn’t want it happening literally right under her nose.

“What are you doing, Peter? What is this?”

Peter stopped thrusting. Felicia was still entranced, still trilling like a happy little slut out of a boy’s adolescent fantasy. Peter slapped her on her plump ass to bring her out of it.

“Stand on the pillows. Hands over the headboard. Ass out.”

“Yes, master,” Felicia moaned, sharing a look into Mary Jane’s eyes as she just about purred with willingness to follow orders. She picked herself up, her naked body more lavish than ever, flushed and freshly fucked and still quivering with the anticipation of more.

She stood over Mary Jane, right on top of her bed, and MJ was so stunned by the obscene positioning—here, in her bed, where she slept—that she didn’t even move, but looked up at the moist, glistening entryway into Felicia. The space with Peter’s veiny prick had just been.

Never in Mary Jane’s life had she seen a woman’s sex throbbing that way… so dark and so alive… she couldn’t look away. Was that how her own pussy looked when Peter had made love to her? Or was it something taboo even for them, something reserved only for this strangely submissive Felicia and this domineering Peter that she could barely even believe.

Her body flickered with excitement. Mary Jane hated herself for staring, waiting for Peter’s cock to enter the sheath made for it and reenact for her the wholly pleasing encounter she’d previously had to experience only from Felicia’s cock-drunk facial expression.

But no, she couldn’t. Whatever this was meant to prove, she’d have no part of it. She started to roll out of bed, reaching for the mattress to support herself while she got to her feet—

And a glob of webbing stuck her there. Another hit her other wrist, locking her in a cruciform position. Lastly, Peter slapped a length of webbing onto one of the lower bedposts and looped the other end around Mary Jane’s ankles. Binding her literally hand and foot, staring up at Felicia’s cunt as the Black Cat undulated her body, shaking her flesh in the rhythm she clearly wished to share with Peter very soon.

“What’s going on!?” Mary Jane demanded, the old jealousy rising up. Bad enough that Peter was subjecting her to this, but for Felicia’s benefit? For her pleasure? That was intolerable.

“I met God,” Peter said, his tone simple, his voice far away. “Or one of those… Doctor Strange acquaintances that are a part of God. I probably shouldn’t have, but I asked him how come I keep doing the right thing and my life still keeps turning to shit. And he showed me all the people I’ve helped, everyone I’ve made happy… millions of them. Billions, once they’ve all had kids. And you know what I thought? That’s a pretty piss-poor reward.”

Peter stood, carefully stepping to either side of Mary Jane’s lithe body as he approached Felicia from behind and… embraced her. His hands devouring the ripe curvaceousness of her. Luxuriating in the heft of her voluptuous body, all the weight there was to her full breasts, all the time it took to orbit her womanly hips. He played her like a musical instrument and Felicia delighted in being played—all the more so when Mary Jane was her audience.

“Everyone else gets to be happy and I get to be the sacrifice. So I’m not waiting around for some cosmic douchebag to decide that I’ve been unhappy long enough. I’m taking what makes me happy. Like Felicia here…”

His heated organ met hers and Mary Jane heard a groan from Felicia, eclipsed only by the satisfied moan Peter let out. She was shocked; how loud it was!

“And you, Mary Jane. You get to remember what you’ve been missing. Just say the word and you can join in.”

“Not yet,” Felicia crooned. “I’m his only cum-dumpster now. When he needs to get off, he uses me. Don’t you dare let him have you until he’s broken this pretty little cunt… oh God… God, I love knowing how much cum he has for me!”