Professor's Pet

Fourteen*

Warnings: sub!Kate; dark!Dom!Owner!Reader; dark!widow; standing cnc/free use; collaring; leash-training; dumbification; physical punishments; degrading; oral; training; voyeurism/exhibitionism; dom/sub-master/pet dynamics in public; sharing; flirting; power imbalance professor/students; public sexual acts; orgasm control; strap-on use; fingering; feral!doms; some violence; blood; dark!Natasha; dark!sub!Wanda; angst/nightmare mention; past trauma

I miss the way you say my name
The way you bend, the way you break
Your makeup running down your face
The way you fuck, the way you taste

You lost count of Wanda's orgasms long before the three of you faded into a messy, tangled sleep, but you doubted that she would be asking to cum again anytime soon – and you weren't entirely convinced that she would be able to walk properly in the morning. You smirked before finally drifting off, amused at the idea that Natasha might have to give her pet a break after all to recover from your ministrations. Kate has been the perfect puppy, doing everything you asked, anticipating your needs, anticipating your desires. Your fingers ran over the small of her back as she slept, curled in a ball with her back to your chest, your arm trapped between her neck and her shoulder. But you weren't going anywhere.

...

Pain. The cord came down on your back between your shoulder blades and you winced, knowing better than to make a sound. The sound of heels on the floor, and the laugh of your abuser – your trainer – your lover.

Natasha's red curls were sticking to the sweat on her forehead from the exertion, determined to break you. Your steel blue eyes caught her greens and you had a non-verbal battle of wills. With the deepest breath your bruised and battered body would allow you to take before lowering your fingertips to the cold concrete and pushing yourself back up onto your feet. Natasha blinked, apparently surprised by your defiance. The cord came down again and you caught it, ignoring the sting of the skin on your palm splitting with the impact as you stepped forward towards the redhead. Natasha's lips parted and you were emboldened by her unexpected yet instinctual step backwards.