Raised By Wolves update

Kitty breathed hard as she brought the cat down on Betsy’s ass, again and again, reddening the supple flesh until long welts marked where Betsy was being punished. Then she moved the cat to Betsy’s thighs, letting the lashes bite into the firm flesh there, sending reverberations through the creamy skin that traveled all the way to Betsy’s exposed sex.

Betsy let out a shrill cry, her thighs clenching and bunching into hard muscles while her arms did the same, pulling against the bar that held her hands. Her arms ached almost as bad as her legs now did, shooting pains going all through her strained muscles as if firing off at random, all while the cat of nine tails crashed into her, made her burn. Kitty’s strength seemed inexhaustible, and just as Betsy grew numb to the pain, Kitty moved, now slashing the whip across Betsy’s stomach, leaving long red ribbons across Betsy’s taut belly.

“Unnhh!” Betsy moaned in abject misery, feeling the pain grow and grow seemingly endlessly.

Kitty’s face was alive with lust. Her mousy brown hair now slashed all around her livid face as she brought the cat of nine tails down on Betsy’s cleavage.

“Yahhhh!” Betsy screamed, the pain worse than ever. Kitty only lashed her harder.

A leather tendril stung her left nipple, sending Betsy into a paroxysm of suffering. She bent her spine harshly, her entire body pulling at the bonds that held her. Then Kitty slashed the whip down at her pussy, purposely snapping the knotted tips just shy of Betsy’s labia.

Betsy’s face whitened, her lips pinched together as the agony collected in her mind. She felt the muscles inside her cunt tensing and cramping with the fearful expectation of a blow, but all that anticipation was making her clit stiffen, making her want to feel a little more of the burning hits that had tortured the rest of her body. It couldn’t stop now, not when the feeling was so immense.

Kitty saw the wanting in Betsy’s body. Kitty saw everything. Her eyes were as bright as glowing coals. Kitty purposefully brought the cat of nine tails across Betsy’s inner thighs. Betsy yowled as the pain pressed into her slit, a warmth that would not entirely become suffering, but stayed pressure, pressure on her cunt, her clit, so strong it almost made her come even as it hurt. Betsy moaned more, her body jerking back and forth as if trying to get at the elusive sensation that had invaded her pussy. The chain overhead rattled and rolled along with her heaving body.

Betsy didn’t know what she was feeling as she hung there, bent and cracked and stretched until it felt like something inhuman was getting out of her, a hateful enjoyment she couldn’t control. Her eyes rolled back in her head. She felt raw heat burning in the marks Kitty had made, the welts she had left, and the fire from those scorch marks had reached her pussy, her clit. All of her throbbed in the symphony of her wounds. Kitty kept pace, a mistress, a rider urging her on, bringing the cat down again and again on her back and spurring her throbbing flesh on to some ultimate reaction. The acrid smack of leather hitting flesh echoed in Betsy’s ears.

The room was smaller and darker than when they had begun. Her pussy was clenched like a fist around whatever pleasure this pain was somehow producing. She was working toward climax, at least climax, and Betsy panted heavily as she rolled her head from side to side. Her pussy was sore as a night of hard sex would leave it, but still it throbbed and ached and pounded, railing against the blackness—everything around her had gone dark. Then the blackness went silent. Betsy fainted. The last thing she was aware of was the incredible power of her orgasm, so intense that it hurt worse than the lash had.

***

Betsy woke up desperately needing a cigarette, something she hadn’t indulged in since assuming Kwannon’s body. After all, no sense in messing up a fresh set of lungs. She felt a palpable anger towards Kitty, bitter and lingering, but not raw. Sleep had given her some perspective, allowed her temper to cool as much as her pain.

She got out of the bed she’d apparently been moved to—she couldn’t remember getting into it—and found clothes set out for her. The usual anonymous wear for X-Men guests; for a team that wasn’t a sex cult, they certainly needed to clothe naked people a lot. White cotton panties, sweatpants, and a generic white T-shirt. Betsy dressed quickly. 

With distance, she could admit that there was more to her dislike of Kitty than how rough things had gotten last night. In fact, there was intense jealousy. The thought of Laura being so utterly devoted to Kitty in the way Betsy would’ve wanted for herself was unbearable.

It seemed like such a wild idea—a young woman with Logan’s crudeness and brooding temperament. But Betsy knew that if it were any other woman receiving Kitty’s attentions, she wouldn’t have cared. If it hadn’t been for Kitty, something might have happened between her and Laura. She could’ve mentored Laura as Kitty apparently had done, gotten close to her, been alone together long enough to bond, naturally, perhaps sexually. Once they’d gotten to know each other, there was no telling what might have happened. Now that had all gone up in smoke. There would be no replacing Laura’s devotion to Kitty.

Her finely honed senses, trained to regard telepathy as just another source of information, picked up Kitty as she walked through the wall. Betty regarded her, face hard with anger. ”You’ve got some nerve,” she snapped.

Kitty set down a breakfast tray on the nightstand. “What’s the matter, did I keep you waiting long? Laura told me you just woke up. She has very keen ears.”

“I’m not in the mood for your humor,” Betsy said. “Last night was totally inappropriate.”

“What, like you would’ve admitted you wanted to be topped without a little persuasion?” Kitty ran the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip. “Face it, you’re not interested in Laura unless you’re a sub. That girl is walking big dick energy.”

Betsy felt herself tensing inside, even as Kitty sat lackadaisically on the bed. There was something about Kitty’s behavior that put her on guard. It was easy to forget Kitty was as much a ninja as Betsy, but Betsy wouldn’t let that slip from her mind again anytime soon.

“So why are you interested in her?” Betsy asked.

“I’ve got some experience with Wolverines. You’re not as clear-eyed. You probably thought Laura would be an easy mark because she’s a skinny little girl, but she’s got all of Logan’s rage and not half as much experience in controlling it. Me, on the other hand, I know all about control.”

Betsy’s eyes flashed with rage at Kitty. “This isn’t a game, Kitty. You’re in real trouble. I can make things very difficult for you.”

“Why? Because we had a little rough sex? I don’t remember you saying no. Laura doesn’t remember it either.”

Betsy’s anger boiled to the point where it had to be expressed. She made a fist and a psi-knife extended from her knuckles.

“Careful with that,” Kitty said with a cocky smile. “I don’t think we’ve ever established if those things can hit me when I phase. You could do some real damage to whatever’s behind me.”

Betsy acted without thinking, her skills outpacing her awareness as her hand flashed out and slashed Kitty’s cheek, leaving a slowly bleeding mark across her cheekbone. It was only Betsy’s intrinsically restrained nature that kept her from doing something more grievous.

For a moment, they both seemed startled by what had happened. Then, realizing what she’d done, Betsy sat down beside Kitty on the bed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“No, I bet you didn’t!” Kitty hissed. “I hope you enjoyed it, because it’s going to cost you. I thought I’d only let Laura watch us play our little games, but since you’re such a physical type, I’ll let her try topping you.”

”Not bloody likely!” Betsy snorted. “Who do you think you are, talking to me like this? You’re not even half my age!”

Kitty scooted up the bed Betsy had slept in, putting her back against the headboard and raising one knee to her chest. “That’s okay. I kinda like older women,” she taunted.

“I could go to Xavier right this minute. What do you think he’d say about how you’ve been acting?”

“I don’t know. What do you think he’d say if I told him that Laura had smelled Scott Summers all over you? Trickling out of you, in fact?”

Betsy’s heart stopped beating. It seemed a long, long time before it started again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh? I thought you were a psychic.” Kitty patted the mattress beside her. “Let’s not fight. We’re all on the same team. Why don’t we make ourselves comfortable instead? See if we can find some common ground.”

“You’re barmy!” Betsy laughed. “You really are mad as a hatter!”

“What’s the matter—afraid someone will catch us? No need to worry. Laura’s minding the door. She won’t let anyone bother us.” Kitty curled her fingers beckoningly. “Come on, Betts. Let’s be friends.” She spread her legs a little further apart, letting Betsy see how tightly her shorts held to the mound her sex made between her legs. “Think of this as apologizing for that nasty cut you gave me.”

Betsy felt like a spring that couldn’t be compressed any further without releasing all the energy stored in its coils. Kitty’s insolence was impossible to bear. Betsy was an X-Men, a goddamn superhero, and Kitty Pryde should damn well respect it.

Then again, seeing Kitty splayed out on the bed, knowing that she could have that kinky little body and possibly redress the balance of being dominated the night before—it was unspeakably arousing. She could see almost all of Kitty’s pert young curves through her tight clothing and she could enjoy all of them sexually, even if that did mean losing any claim to leverage over Kitty. She couldn’t call Kitty’s character into question and hop into bed with her, no matter what carnal enjoyment such an encounter promised.

“You’re not scared of me, are you?” Kitty purred, appropriately enough. She started unbuttoning her blouse. There was no bra underneath. She didn’t need one for her firm young breasts. “I promise I’ll be gentle. We’ll save the rough stuff for later. I know a genteel lady like you must enjoy everything being soft and smooth once in a while.” She tossed the blouse aside, then cupped her hands over her breasts, hiding them once more. “Admit it. You liked looking at them. Why don’t you come closer and get a better look? All it’ll cost you is a nice little kiss…”

Kitty lay back, phasing out of her shorts so that she could easily them away, then opening her legs wide to display the wetness of her sex. Betsy could see it as easily as she could feel the lust in Kitty’s mind, the lust mirroring her own. 

“Kiss,” Kitty said.

Betsy lowered her face down into Kitty’s lap. She ran her tongue over Kitty’s slit, just to see if Kitty knew what she was getting into. 

Kitty’s fingernails dug into the bedspread. Her hips bucked, slipping her pussy away from Betsy’s mouth in a sudden haze of excited pleasure, and instead Betsy kissed her soft naked tummy. She could feel the rattling pleasure in Kitty as they touched, but also the groaning dissatisfaction of Kitty wanting her back between her legs. 

Gazing up at her, Betsy pressed her lips through Kitty’s bush to find her clitoris, applying pressure to it in a long kiss. And while Kitty was distracted by that, breathless from it, Betsy brought two fingers to her cunt and slid them inside.

Kitty’s shoulders twisted, crushing a pillow underneath her, while her head snapped from side to side, her jaw flexing like every moan that escaped she was trying to hold in. Her tongue slid out to lick her suddenly dry lips, making their pinkness shine deeply. It was followed by a moan that came out of her like wind kicking up out of nowhere.

In a split-second, Betsy moved on top of Kitty, kissing her, drawing out Kitty’s moans with her tongue. Kitty tasted her own sex in the fervent kiss; she hadn’t thought she was that turned on. Betsy’s lips twisted, sliding along Kitty’s cheek and her throat until she bit into the flesh between Kitty’s neck and her shoulder, leaving her mark on the pale and creamy body.

“Think you can top me, slag?” Betsy hissed. “I’m not some naïve little naif like Laura. I know what it’s like to be fucked. If you want to dom me, you’d better be able to make me come, hard. You’ve bitten off more than you can chew, little girl.”

Betsy wrapped Kitty up like a wrestler, curling her legs around Kitty’s body, folding her feet under the small of Kitty’s back and forcing her heels into Kitty’s slim and pert buttocks. With a callused touch so unlike all the creamy skin Betsy showed off she grabbed Kitty below the knees and pulled her slender legs up off the bed, forcing Kitty to wrap them around her own body. 

Now they sat on the mattress, facing each other, Betsy’s full breasts touching Kitty’s smaller ones with every lustful breath they shared. Their pussies were almost as close. Betsy reached down between their two nearly touching cunts; Kitty didn’t know which of them Betsy was reaching for until she felt that same rough touch on her womanhood. 

She arched her spine, settling her weight on outstretched arms, thrusting her pelvis up to Betsy’s teasing hand. Kitty groaned, feeling three fingers sheathe themselves in her wet sex. She’d had no idea she was so wet, so tender. Telepathy, she thought. Betsy was dominating her mentally, making her grow aroused from this harsh treatment.

“Am I?” Betsy asked, rubbing at Kitty’s clit, so swollen and engorged that it seemed to push into Betsy’s touch, wanting to be petted. “Am I making you get off on this, little Kitty? Or are you not the top you thought you were? Who knows what else you might like?”

With her free hand, Betsy reached around Kitty’s body, now touching the nubile flesh of her back, kneading it from Kitty’s tailbone to the first delineation of her buttocks, the first little recess that led down to her anus. The pressure of Betsy’s touch pushed Kitty forward, into Betsy—she gasped as her breasts touched Betsy’s, both their nipples as hard as stone. 

“Touch them, Kitty,” Betsy purred. “Aren’t they nice?”

Kitty rolled her hands up the thin white T-shirt that served as Betsy’s only covering from the waist up, the streaming morning sunlight shining through to make it as insubstantial as mist at dawn. With her palms open, Kitty scooped up the two firm mounds of weighty flesh, caressing them, molding them with her hands, squeezing into them with her slender fingers. Her hands suddenly seemed insufficient to service such majestic hills.

Betsy tightened the hold her legs had around Kitty’s body, the bed squeaking with their brawny shift in weight. Kitty shook helplessly as Betsy’s mound rubbed against her own. Her eyes shut, her lips pulled inside her mouth. Kitty massaged Betsy’s tits all she could, trying to enjoy them as much as possible before her coming climax forced her to let go. 

Then she threw her arms around Betsy, locking their bodies in an embrace, and they forced their cunts together, dry-humping through Betsy’s panties and bottoms, still getting off even if the friction wasn’t absolute. Neither of them could bear to pull away long enough to get totally naked. They could come this way, come hard.

The bedsprings groaned but the girls were deeply silent, immersed in a contest of wills that only let out their squalling breaths. Then: “Yeah… oh yes… oh… yes… yes…”

Kitty’s voice was an agonized plea, begging for more with every second of her orgasm. With each new throb, she wanted more, wanted to be fucked forever. Betsy was silent, a ninja going about her work. But she indulged herself a little, letting her eyes roll back in her head as she clenched and came, her telepathy breathing in Kitty’s submission as a wine connoisseur would bask in the scent of a rare vintage.