The Curiosity of Mary Jane Watson

On a sleepy, rainy Sunday afternoon, starved for one-another’s company but bereft of something to do, Rob and Mary Jane took to enjoying each other’s company and relaxing in his apartment, idly chatting over coffee and snacks, soft music mingling with the patter of raindrops forming their background noise.

(Of course, unbeknownst to MJ, this apartment of Rob’s was a dummy, purchased solely to pull the wool over her eyes, so she wouldn’t catch him with his other girls at any of his other dwellings).

Of course, pleasant company or not, to MJ, there were still a handful of elephants in the room with them. Namely, the sorta friends with benefits thing they had going on. They didn’t fuck every time they met up, but they did it often enough, having recently done the deed the prior evening. And it was great. Every time with Rob was great, and each time was better than the last, but MJ did not want their relationship to devolve into and wholly revolve around sex, however good it might be.

But, that was an elephant MJ was willing to ignore… for now. The sex was a fun new part of their relationship, but MJ didn’t want it to be the only thing in their relationship. There were other elephants, though, that MJ was more than willing to acknowledge.

“So… about this Slutter thing.” MJ brought up, out of the blue, awkwardly and totally lacking discretion. Rob paused, coffee mug stopped in midair, to stare at her and her undiplomatic phrasing.

When MJ did not respond to Rob’s stares, going so far as to avert her gaze from him, trying to act casual, Rob said, “Okay, I’ll bite, what about it?”

“I don’t know, it’s just weird, isn’t it!? I’m still struggling to get my head around it.” MJ exclaimed forcefully, as the word literally burst out from her. “Little Robbie Daily is now a porn peddler.”

“I wouldn’t say that…” Rob said with a grimace. “It’s not a porn site, for one.”

“Oh, yes it is.” MJ countered, lightning quick, with a sly smile.

“Have you ever been on it, then?”

“No. I don’t do porn. I’m not a guy.”

“And what does that mean?”

“It means guys consume porn like it’s oxygen or water. Like they need it to survive.”

Rob huffed. “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m really not.” MJ smirked, eyes sparkling playfully. “Trust me. I’ve had plenty of ex-boyfriends who still went onto their porn sites daily. While they were dating me. Me!”

Rob turned away, suppressing a chuckle, which MJ took as him saying “Well, that’s their loss”.

“My point still stands, it’s not a porn site.” Rob reiterated, before pausing and then adding, “Not one-hundred percent a porn site, anyways. Not that you would know, since by your own admission, you’re not on Slutter.”

MJ did not dignify the specific statement with a response, instead saying to Rob, “Do you have an account?”

“Yeah, I have two.” Rob said in a matter-of-fact tone. “One is my secret one as the owner, the other is my personal account for posting my art and following others.”

“And who is that you follow?”

Rob just shrugged at MJ’s teasing. “Oh, you know, some artist mutuals. A couple of other talent with X-class accounts.” Eyes sparkling mischievously, MJ gave him a disbelieving look. “I happen to have very discerning tastes.”

“Right, I’m sure.” Then, much to MJ’s surprise, Rob called her bluff by taking out his phone and passing it to her. It was opened on his Slutter account homepage - @BullKingRob.

Gingerly, MJ took the phone, realizing she had no one else to blame for this but herself for creating this scenario. Trying her best to subdue the grimace she felt forming, Mary Jane bravely waded into the world of her childhood friend’s porn account. She scrolled through the feed, not taking the time to analyze every bit of the site, seeing some of Rob’s drawings and they… were not to her tastes. Even if she was the kind of gal to frequently consume porn, Rob’s drawings were too unrealistic for her case and pursued fetishes that didn’t do much for her. Corruption and hypnosis and fictional women depicted as raging sluts being the most prevalent themes.

Quickly changing streams, MJ flicked over to Rob’s follower feed, immediately almost dropping the phone at the first post. “God damn it, Rob! Look!” She turned the phone to face him. “She’s gotta be eighteen!”

The post was a photo from the account @KamalaKunt (what a name, MJ thought despairingly), featuring a young brown girl in a bikini so tight and slight, that it’s only practical application was for titillation. That and the fact the girls breasts were gigantic! A brief bit of jealousy flashed through MJ, that a girl half her age had (seemingly) all-natural breasts as big, if not bigger, than hers.

“Kamala’s nineteen, actually.” Rob said, as if that made it any better. “And, I mean, it’s like you said. I’m a guy. I need a bit of cheesecake in my diet.”

MJ could only nod mechanically, as her focus was slowly becoming consumed by Rob’s Slutter account and the various others he was following. She wasn’t focused on the artists, though, more of the various other women he followed who seemed to be some combination of strippers, whores, adult content creators, and just general sluts who all enjoyed posting pictures and videos of themselves in skimpy, naughty outfits, showing off their luscious bodies, or engaging in various sexual activities.

MJ fell silent as she fell deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole. She was pretty sure that her face was as red as her hair right now, but she couldn’t help herself. So many of the girls Rob followed were startling young, like Kamala, all legal but easily half his age (half her age, too). There were a few others that she skimmed by, to be sure, but then she came across Daenerys Targaryen in all of her dark, wicked splendour. The white-haired influencer had posted a photo set of her in nothing more than a leather collar and long, heavy chain, lounging on a chaise, tempestuous and enticing in her form. Eyes dark and wanton, her smile thin and cruel, as if she was in on a joke that MJ wasn’t.

Something began to bubble in the pit of MJ’s stomach, something hot and sticky. At first, it felt uncomfortable, her going so far as to squirm in her seat as if to quench the sensation. But it slowly began to spread, rising through her chest and her throat. Her mouth felt dry, her heart was hammering heavily. Her thumbs hovering over the phone’s touchscreen. The simplest touch, and she would open the photoset and be able to see so much more of this wicked, slavemongering beauty before her.

After what felt like both a flash and an eternity of time, MJ fought the temptation, sliding the phone back to Rob. She felt flush and sweaty all of a sudden Aroused and ashamed.

Shaking her head, she changed the topic of conversation once more, as ungainly and awkwardly as when she steered it towards Slutter. “How about we put on a movie? You did say you weren’t super familiar with my filmography. I’m sure we can find something of mine to put on we’ll both like…”

/////

MJ flopped atop her bed, pouting. She crossed her arms, she rolled back and forth, sighed, and then stared up at the ceiling. An agonized grimace came to her face as she loudly huffed at her current predicament.

She was horny. Very, very horny.

Skin flushed, loins aching, nipples hard and tender, her entire body burning up, even when she was only dressed in a light tee and her panties.

This was becoming a recurring problem ever since she and Rob had started having sex. Whenever they went days in between their physical congress, well, she almost couldn’t believe it - it was like she was experiencing withdrawals or something, but yeah, the longer in-between sex with Rob, the more pent up MJ and her body got. And she felt like it was getting worse and worse. It was only this afternoon she had seen him for their rainy day stay-in “date”, and that was after

“Man, I know I joke about his dick being magic or something, but maybe there is something to that…” MJ muttered to herself, one forearm pressed against her forehead. She felt feverish. The room felt stuffy. She had already taken a cold shower little more than an hour earlier, but all that did was provide temporary relief. The obvious solution was still staring her in the face, but she wasn’t all too comfortable with it. She wasn’t a hormone-addled teenager anymore, for Christ’s sake! Masturbation just wasn’t something she did…

She tossed and turned in her bed some more, trying to get comfortable. It was getting late and sleep would probably help her, she rationalized. Even if she knew better that there was no way she would be able to fall asleep like this.

Then, in her rolling about, her eyes fell on her phone, laying idle on the nearby nightstand. Her mind instantly flicked back to the conversation she and Rob had earlier in the day, about pornography and her not-boyfriend’s not-porn site.

Giving the phone a dead-eyed stare as if it were an active participant in her conversation or her crisis, MJ sat up, propped herself against her pillows and the bed’s backboard and then reached for her phone.

“Probably a bad idea, all things considered, but here we are…”

Without having a larger point to go off on in the world of pornography, MJ instead went directly to Rob’s Slutter account. With his art not doing much for her, she quickly swiped over to his Following tab, eyes scanning over those accounts. She was mostly focusing on the… well, she wasn’t sure what to call them. Influencers? Models? Camgirls?

Whatever they were, MJ was surprised by the range of accounts Rob was following. There weren’t a lot, but they were different enough. Honestly, when she saw Kamala’s account earlier (as well as the dozens of other young, barely legal girls Rob was following), she did feel her stomach drop and start to question her friend and his inclinations. But a few of the accounts she saw were far more tame.

@SeventhHeaven was an athletic, busty woman who seemed to mostly post daily outfit photos and videos of her workout routines. She was also very clearly and openly affectionate with her girlfriend, as they had a lot of content together, though MJ noted how much more recent the stuff with the two of them were.

@CatBurglarNami mostly showed off her seemingly unlimited wardrobe of clothes, jewellery, shoes, and make-up. She was also very quick to announce the price tag of every ritzy, glamorous item she featured. Someone clearly had a sugar daddy.

@BossBitchAsami was… well, MJ really didn’t know how to describe the business woman. She was the CEO of Slutter and had many posts discussing the site, it’s upkeep, and it’s future. But she also had plenty of scandalous, burlesque style photos of herself reclining in luxury in silken lingerie, attended to by two buff blondes, Miss Asami Sato wearing a smile of smug superiority that screamed attitude and authority even in a silent picture. Plus, MJ thought such a handle was quite unprofessional for an executive.

There were plenty of other accounts like that, ones which MJ would describe as risque, but not outwardly pornographic or sexual in nature. Though, she did note that all of the non-artists accounts Rob followed were helmed by women. That in of itself wasn’t strange, but the very odd thing was just how drop-dead gorgeous all of these women were! MJ had been a professional model for nearly two decades and she was absolutely floored by these women. Each one of them was more stunning than the last, more beautiful and enthralling than any woman MJ had known throughout her career. And it wasn’t just their bodies, either. With her well-honed eye, MJ could see that they all carried themselves with confidence and elegance. These were women that knew they were bombshells, but felt no need to say anything to the fact. Not to mention, for whatever reason, Mary Jane could not shake the fact that these women looked like they were… loved? Like, so much of their confidence came from the fact they had someone who loved and adored them. She couldn’t say how she came to this conclusion, but there was just something that sparkled in their eyes - the same sparkle in all these disparate, unconnected women - that led her to that assumption.

She started to wonder what it was like to be loved like that, when the discomfort in her body flared up again. She shimmied in her seat, feeling the heat between her thighs, while her breasts jiggled, rubbing against the thin material of her shirt. She kept both hands firmly on her phone at all times, so she wouldn’t be tempted.

She flicked back to the Following page and her heart sank, seeing that most of what was left were definitely more openly lurid accounts. The twenty-some-odd accounts staring improbably beautiful and dangerously young college-aged girls, so many of which had such off-putting and almost misogynistic names. ImpossibleSlut, AllAmericanBitch, RavishingRaven, Cho Ravencunt!? These women were either trying way too hard to attract a certain kind of audience or had incredibly low self-esteem, even for camgirls and influencers.

Her thumbs hovered over the hyperlinked usernames of a few of them, before she wrinkled her nose and shook head. “Yeah, sorry, pass. I’m not that old but I’m definitely too old to be perving on eighteen-year olds…” She scrolled further down the page, haphazardly. When she pressed her thumb down to stop the scrolling, her heart sank again and she wished she had been just a little bit more careful.

Right under her thumb was the link to @DragonWhore. Daenerys Targaryen’s account.

Even for someone not versed in international politics, MJ was shocked by the sudden news months ago that Daenerys, a ceaseless advocate for women’s rights and a fierce opponent against the ****-trade and human trafficking, had come out one night preaching about the virtues of sexual slavery. Reinventing her entire image overnight and essentially becoming a lifestyle podcaster, clad in BDSM fetish gear and breathlessly talking about the joys of feminine enslavement.

Again, not one to consume porn or any hypersexual content, MJ had only heard snippets of this new Daenerys and her philosophy on the news or on other websites, and she had never paid much attention to it. Until now. Until this afternoon, when she and Rob were talking about Slutter and by chance she had stumbled upon Daenerys’ account.

By chance or by choice? By fate or by something else? As MJ stared at the account again, remembering the photos she had seen earlier in the day of the lounging, nude woman resplendent in her submissive beauty, she couldn’t help but wonder if all of this was the result of some sort of subconscious urge. It was just too much of a coincidence to be anything else, right?

Right?

“Oh, what the hell…” MJ said to herself. She bit down on her lip before talking to herself again. “You didn’t start trawling on Rob’s account just to pussyfoot out, did you?” MJ crossed her legs, squeezing her thighs as she felt her heart skip a beat.

Unlike some of the other accounts MJ had been snooping on, Daenerys’ was meticulously organized and clearly meant to showcase several of the site’s features. Yes, she had plenty of photos of her - both everyday photos and more staged ones like the ones of her on the chaise - as well as text posts where she answered questions of fans or trolled detractors. But the meat of her account revealed Slutter supported longform video and audio formats, in this case being Daenerys’ podcast, Submitting Women.

MJ just stared at her phone’s screen for the longest time. Despite all her needling towards Rob about men and their need to consume porn, or her scandalous reaction to all these young women populating the site, she was certainly no prude. In the circle she ran in, sex went part and parcel with everything else, and MJ had done some crazy stuff in her days. And, yeah, that included some light BDSM and some roleplay. She had called men “Master” and women “Mistress” and had both called her “Mistress”. It was not necessarily her speed, but it was fun and it added plenty of spice and heat in the moment. Even then, she could not imagine surrendering her agency to another man, wholly and completely.

Still lost in thought, MJ adjusted her body in a vain attempt to find comfort. In her subconscious wriggling, she lost hold of her phone and her thumb accidentally pressed down on the play button of a video clip.

“Again, and I cannot stress this enough, but the core tenant of my philosophy is love.” Daenerys earnestly stressed on the video clip. Her accent was regal and noble, with flawless annunciation, words flowing from her mouth in a honeyed stream, warm and husky. A voice that managed to be both erotic and authoritative at the same time. “Women are meant to submit, we are the weaker sex. The lesser sex. It is our purpose to serve men. However, just because that is the natural order, doesn’t mean we should bow to anyone. Sell yourselves, ladies, but sell yourself to a man worthy of you! A man who loves and respects you but whom you love in return!”

MJ was taken aback by the pure passion ringing in Daenerys’ voice, the sheer sincerity in her eyes. She was not some sort of grifter and this wasn’t some sort of character she was putting on. This woman actually believed what she was saying. Part of MJ was disgusted by it, but another part was hypnotized by Daenerys’ beauty and her commanding cadence.

“Take me for example, the ur example, if you will.” Daenerys pressed a hand to her chest and allowed herself a proud smile. “I love my Master. Worship and obey him. And he shows me the same love and respect. He could very well order me to be glued to his cock, twenty-four-seven, but he knows how important it is for me to spread the gospel of true slavery. He is happy and willing to let his most gorgeous and perfect pet spend hours of her day, the majority of her day, talking to all my wonderful listeners around the world. Mutual trust, mutual respect, mutual admiration. Just because we are inferior doesn’t mean we need to settle for someone cruel and spiteful.”

The dam quickly broke after that, MJ forgetting about her trepidation and quickly diving into more and more clips. Out of curiosity, MJ said to herself, rationalizing things. She didn’t agree with this misogynistic philosophy, no. She just found it interesting. It was a fantasy. It was fun. And it didn’t hurt that the messenger was both impassioned and pretty.

“All the time I get feminists nattering me for my views, harping on and on that I’m a monster, blah blah blah. But the funny thing is, I’ve always heard that the essence of feminism is about giving women a choice, which is what I’m doing. I’m not forcing anyone to follow me, I’m simply giving women information and allowing them to make a choice. If anything, that makes me more of a feminist than all of my critics, hahahaha!

“My Master? Well, all you need to know is he is eminently supportive of me. From the day we first met, he understood me and my desires and helped me finally feel comfortable saying what I believe. That is what I mean when I say you need a true partner to be your Master, ladies. Someone who you feel comfortable with to finally reveal your true selves.

“And of course the sex is amazing. Never let it be said that I downplay the sexual portion of a master-**** relationship. Women should always be wet and willing, to offer their body to their Master at a moment’s notice. It was one of the first things my Master did when he claimed me. Threw me on the bed and fucked me like an animal! Ah, it was wonderful! His big, mighty cock filling my cunt like it was created solely for him, ruthlessly pounding me over and over. Fuck, this is making me hot. Hmm, maybe when I’m done here, I’ll track my beloved down and suck him off. I love it when I swallow his whole length, feeling his manhood in my slutty mouth-pussy…”

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit…” MJ really couldn’t believe it. She listened to hours of Daenerys’ submissive testimonies, hardly batting an eye at how explicit or **** or intense it got. And she couldn’t believe how hot it was!

White she didn’t immediately succumb to her base urges, it was always in the corner of her mind, hovering ominously, almost taunting her. Despite her prior insistence she keep two hands on her phone at all times, her body seemed to have a mind of it’s own in the moment, her left hand constantly dropping down, drifting down. Past her stomach and her hips towards her crotch. When she became aware of the subconscious limb and it’s adventures down south, she would do what she could to stop it. Ball it into a fist or shove it under her armpit or find another item to occupy it’s grasp. But it quickly became evident that this was a losing battle.

The first time she touched herself, MJ almost jumped out of bed, the sudden jolt of pleasure so much and coming from out of nowhere. Her hips bucked and her thighs quivered, as she caught her breath and marvelled at how hot and damp she was down there. As she paused, she made the mistake of resting her hand on her chest, specifically her breasts, causing her to shudder and moan as the tender flesh of her hefty bust filled her hand for nary a moment.

The first time, her fingers barely brushed against the fabric of her underwear. The second time, they lingered for a split second longer before MJ pulled them away like she was touching the element on her old gas stove in Queens. The third time, they held longer still, and MJ’s reaction was far less ****.

The fourth time, she left the tip of her index and middle fingers in contact, applying little to no pressure, simply resting them on her groin. She practically melted into the bed, letting out a shuddering moan that echoed like a thunderstorm throughout her bedroom.

“Oh god, I needed that…” MJ said to herself after a long bout of silence.

“Yes, you did.” MJ almost jumped at the sound of Daenerys’ voice. The white-haired siren had been buzzing in the background during MJ’s furtive attempts at touching herself. In her daze, MJ almost thought she was being directly addressed by the imperious Dragon Whore, only to laugh when she realized how crazy that sounded.

“You did a very good thing,” Daenerys continued. In the video clip, she was either answering fanmail or directly speaking to a guest she had on her show - invariably another woman who followed Dany’s philosophy of sexual submission. “Transferring all of your finances to your Master’s account was the right thing to do, Miss Lee. It ensures he will be able to support you monetarily while also properly demonstrating your loyalty to him. You have nothing now. You’re all his, like a good little girl…”

“You’re a crazy bitch, you know that right?” MJ said to the video of Daenerys, seeing the sinful woman sneer into the camera, once more looking more smug than the cat that caught the canary. Still, MJ couldn’t help but smile, as she turned her phone’s Bluetooth on, routing it’s audio through her speakers. “But… honestly? You certainly look like you’d be a lot of fun to hang out with…”

Now that MJ had succumbed to bodily temptation, there was no more fear or hesitation. She didn’t know why she was horny, but she was and there was no reason why she shouldn’t find release? And with the dulcet tones of Daenerys Targaryen and her lurid agenda egging her on, once MJ got started, there was no stopping her.

She began gently. Soft prods and small circles being traced along the damp fabric of her panties, the other cupping her breasts. Within a few seconds, she had worked her twat and undies to the point the latter seemed to stick to the mouth of her crotch, highlighting the physical details of the orifice, the slight bulge of her labia and clitoris visible against the wet cloth. Every touch caused her breath hitch and body to spasm, which only caused MJ to dive deeper and faster. Small circles began large, rougher, faster, as she touched and teased herself, moaning loud enough that (if she lived within anyone else right now) she would be audible to the rest of the department.

“Remember ladies,” Danerys said, voice booming over the speakers, as she began her sign-off. “Women are made to submit, men are made to be Masters. Be a better **** and help them be the best Master you can serve.”

“Ah, fuck, fuck, mmmm~ Fuck yes!” MJ panted along to Daenerys’ words, fingers dancing between her slit and the hem of her panties, rocking back and forth. Once, twice, thrice, her fingernails caught the edge of the hemline and the rocking motion caused them to slip underneath, now directly in contact with her sex. “Do you want this Rob? Would you like this? Me to be your slutty little ****, fawning over you? Obeying you? Serving you? Yeah, I bet… nnggh…! Ah, shit… yeah. Yeah, all men are the same, huh? Sexed-up horndogs **** to have a woman prostrate themselves before them?”

MJ’s voice rose in volume and in lust, drowning out Daenerys as the phone laid unattended, the short clip now looping over and over again, becoming white noise. White noise that told MJ how good it felt to be owned and used and fucked.

“Shit Rob, what did you do to me?” MJ asked, voice thick with a half-moan, half-laugh. “I’m on your porn site rubbing my clit over a sex-**** fetish podcast. It’s your fault, you know that Rob? What is with your cock? You’ve got me fucking addicted to it and now I’m doing this to get release!”

For a moment, as MJ rubbed the lips of her vagina, a torrid fantasy almost took hold. How much would Rob love to see her masturbating to him and Daenerys? It would be so easy to grab her phone and take a photo or a video and send it to him. That’s what men wanted, right? For their girls to be sluts? Hypersexual, lusty hellcats always DTF wherever and whenever?

“God, he would be so fucking turned on if I sent him that. If I told him I wanna be his bitch. His slut. His slaaaave!” Writhing in bed, MJ put on a wicked smile and an affected, fawning voice as she moaned, so close to hitting it. “Fuck me, Master Rob. I’m your ****, Master. You can do whatever you want to me. You own me, Master. Yeah, fuck me Master, fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck - OH FUCK! ROB! Mmmmmmaster! AAAAH~”

A spark ignited deep within her core, as MJ hit a shattering, overwhelming orgasm, much to her shock. She had rarely experienced such a powerful climax, even during sex, let alone from fingering herself. But, here she was, flopping about on her bed, to the point she actually flipped over and buried her head in her pillow, moaning into it while she rode out the orgasmic wave to it’s very end. If she could see herself right now, she would be certain her body was steaming and glistening, she felt so hot.

And yet, despite all that, this proved to be the trick. Soon after cumming her brains out, MJ flitted off to a deep, restful sleep, her mind and body now fully satiated. But, before that happened, she snatched up her phone again and went back to Slutter, to do one last thing, before ultimately nodding off for the evening.

She was hoping for a nice, dreamless sleep, but she would be lying if she said a part her wasn’t wishing not only for dreams, but for those dreams to be particularly spicy…

/////

@Jackpot is now following @DragonWhore

That was the message visible clear as day on Mary Jane Watson’s phone, as broadcasted by Zatanna’s scrying mirror.

“See Wanda?” Zatanna said to her companion. “This way, Master gets to play his game with his newest target and we can still keep an eye on things.” Sequestered away in a quiet corner of the Big House, Zatanna and Wanda had watched the entirety of MJ’s little masturbatory moment, her fighting temptation and then succumbing to hit. Already, with their second sight, they could see Rob’s influence starting to sink into the girl.

“Plus, it proves that he is right sometimes to take the slow path with his desired women.”

Wanda kept a neutral face as she saw the end result of the evening on the mirror’s surface. “I suppose you are correct. Though it is less viscerally fun and satisfying than making them submit through power.”

A flash of mischief came to Zatanna’s eyes. “Oh? Do you enjoy the more forceful means of induction? Using our powers to twist and warp the minds and bodies of hapless, innocent souls? Wanda, you bad girl~”

Wanda blushed at Zatanna’s teasing, averting her gaze. “I merely care about the Master’s happiness. And, if he derives happiness from - ahem - brainwashing and breaking beautiful women, then that makes me happy, too.”

Zatanna ended the enchantment on the mirror, setting it down and turning to Wanda to cuddle with her. “Well, seeing as how I’ve been with him for so long, the next time he goes out for a hunt or two, you should come with him. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.” Zatanna kissed Wanda upon the neck before nuzzling at the same spot. “In fact, I’m certain he wants to buff up the staff for this Slut School idea of his, and already has a few ideas on who to acquire for such a role…”