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Wanda pushed open the apartment door with her hip, arms full of shopping bags that threatened to spill their contents all over the hallway. She'd been out for hours—holiday shopping was absolutely exhausting, especially when you were trying to find the perfect gifts for a team of superheroes who could literally buy themselves anything they wanted. Her feet were killing her in these boots, her arms felt like they might actually fall off, and all she wanted was to collapse on the couch with Natasha, order some overpriced Thai food, and maybe watch one of those terrible Hallmark movies they both pretended not to enjoy.
"I'm home!" she called, kicking the door shut behind her with more force than strictly necessary and dropping the bags in the entryway. "And I am never going to the mall two weeks before Christmas again. It was an absolute nightmare. There were so many people, and this woman literally tried to fight me over the last—"
She stopped mid-sentence.
Her brain completely short-circuited.
Because Natasha was sitting in their armchair—the expensive buttery-soft leather one they'd splurged on last year, the one that was definitely big enough for creative activities if they wanted—and she was wearing exactly two things.
A Santa hat.
And a strap-on.
That was it.
Red and white fuzzy hat with a pristine white pom-pom at the end, sitting jauntily on her head like she'd just casually decided to accessorize. Black leather harness wrapped around her hips and thick thighs, the straps emphasizing every muscle. And jutting out from the harness, proud and obscene—thick maroon silicone that Wanda recognized immediately as one of their favorites. The big one. The one that always made her feel impossibly full.
Nothing else.
No shirt. No pants. No underwear beneath the harness. Just miles of pale skin and lean muscle on display. Broad shoulders, defined arms, sharp collarbones, perfect breasts, those incredible abs that Wanda loved to trace with her tongue, powerful thighs.
Natasha had clearly been hitting the gym harder lately. Her shoulders looked broader, her biceps more defined even in their relaxed state, her abs more pronounced. She looked like she could throw Wanda around the apartment without breaking a sweat. (She could. She had. It was great.)
And that fucking Santa hat, sitting perfectly on her head like this was the most normal thing in the world.
Wanda's shopping bags hit the floor with a muffled thud as her hands went completely slack. Her mouth opened but no sound came out.
Natasha was sprawled in the chair like it was her throne—and honestly, right now it felt like it was. One leg crossed over the other in a way that somehow made the dildo look even more prominent, arms resting casually on the armrests, muscles flexed just enough to show their definition. She looked powerful and confident and dangerous and so fucking hot that Wanda forgot how to breathe for several long seconds.
"Are you—" Wanda had to stop and swallow because her mouth had gone completely dry. "Are you wearing a Santa hat?"
"I am." Natasha's voice was casual, conversational, but there was something in her eyes—something dark and knowing and commanding that made Wanda's stomach flip and her thighs clench involuntarily. "Do you like it?"
"I—" Wanda's eyes couldn't decide where to look. They kept tracking from the ridiculous hat down to Natasha's face, lingering on those sharp cheekbones and that slight smirk, down to her shoulders and chest, those abs, the harness sitting on her hips, the dildo—
"Eyes up here, baby girl," Natasha said, and her voice had dropped into that register. The one that made Wanda's knees weak. The one that meant they were doing a scene, that Natasha was fully in control, that Wanda was expected to follow every single instruction without question.
Wanda's gaze snapped back up immediately, heat flooding her face. "Sorry."
"Don't apologize. I like when you look." Natasha's lips curved into a small, dangerous smile. "I wore this for you, after all. Sat here for thirty minutes waiting for you to come home. But right now, I asked you a question, and I expect an answer. Do you like the hat?"
"Yes," Wanda breathed, still rooted to the spot in the entryway.
"Good." Natasha's eyes dragged slowly, deliberately down Wanda's body—taking in her flushed face, the way her chest was rising and falling too quickly, the white-knuckled grip she had on her purse strap, the way she was standing frozen like a deer in headlights. "Now. Here's what's going to happen. You're going to come over here and sit on the couch. You're going to be very, very good for Daddy. And if you follow all my instructions perfectly—" her hand came down to wrap loosely around the base of the dildo, "—then maybe I'll let you have this. Understand?"
Oh fuck.
Wanda felt arousal slam into her with the force of a freight train. They'd played with the daddy dynamic before—Wanda loved calling Natasha that, loved the way it made Natasha's eyes go impossibly dark, loved the way it shifted their usual power exchange into something even more intense. But it had been a few weeks at least, and hearing it now, with Natasha sitting there in nothing but a Santa hat and harness, was almost overwhelming.
"Yes," Wanda managed, her voice coming out rough and desperate. "Yes, Daddy."
"Good girl." The praise washed over Wanda like warm honey, settling deep in her chest. "Now come here. Put down your things. Sit on the couch where I can see you properly."
Wanda moved on autopilot, her legs carrying her forward on shaky knees. She set down her purse on the side table, shrugged off her coat without really paying attention to where it landed, and sat down on the couch across from Natasha's chair. Hands folded in her lap, back straight, eyes fixed on Natasha. Already slipping into that headspace—the one where everything narrowed down to Natasha's voice, Natasha's commands, Natasha's approval. Where the world outside this room ceased to exist, where nothing mattered except being good.
"Look at you," Natasha said, her voice rich with approval. "Already being such a good girl for me. Sitting so pretty. Waiting for instructions." She tilted her head slightly, the Santa hat shifting with the movement but somehow staying perfectly in place. "Do you know what today is?"
"Tuesday?" Wanda's brain was completely offline. She genuinely couldn't remember what day it was, what month it was, her own name.
"It's the day we find out if you've been naughty or nice this year." Natasha's hand stroked down the length of the dildo once, twice, in a slow movement that made Wanda's mouth water and her core clench. "Santa's checking his list. And I have to say, detka, I'm thinking you've been very naughty. Haven't you?"
The Russian endearment sent a shiver down Wanda's spine. "I've been good—"
"Have you?" Natasha's eyebrow raised, challenging. "Because I seem to remember you touching yourself in the shower last week. Without permission. Remember that?"
Oh god. Wanda had really, really hoped Natasha had forgotten about that. "I—that was—"
"That was you breaking the rules," Natasha said calmly. "That was you putting your hands between your legs and making yourself cum when you know that's Daddy's job. When you know you're supposed to ask first."
"I'm sorry—"
"I'm not done." Natasha leaned forward slightly, and the movement made her muscles shift in ways that were deeply distracting. "And then there was the time you wore those shorts to training. You know the ones. Those tiny little things that barely cover your ass. The ones that made Sam walk into a wall and made Steve forget what he was saying. The ones you know drive me absolutely crazy."
Wanda bit her lip. "Maybe."
"Maybe," Natasha repeated, her voice dropping lower. "You were trying to make me jealous. Trying to get a reaction out of me. Trying to be a tease."
"Maybe," Wanda admitted again, quieter this time.
"And what about yesterday?" Natasha sat back again, looking far too pleased with herself. "When you sent me that picture while I was in a meeting with Fury? The one where you were in our bed, wearing that red lingerie I bought you, with your hand between your legs?"
Wanda's face was burning now. "You looked stressed. I was trying to help."
"You were trying to be naughty." But there was warmth in Natasha's voice, affection beneath the stern exterior. "So. The evidence is pretty clear. You've been naughty. Very naughty. Which means you need to earn your way onto the nice list. Think you can do that?"
"Yes, Daddy," Wanda said immediately, desperately. "I'll do whatever you want. Anything."
"I know you will." Natasha's smile was warm, proud, possessive all at once. "You're always so eager to please. So desperate to be good for me. So ready to do whatever I tell you without question. That's one of my favorite things about you, malyshka. You try so hard."
The praise made Wanda's chest warm, made her sink even deeper into the headspace. "I want to be good for you."
"Then you will be. And here's how this is going to work." Natasha settled back in the chair, legs spreading slightly wider. The dildo jutted up obscenely, impossible to ignore, and Wanda couldn't stop staring at it. Couldn't stop thinking about how it would feel, how full she'd be, how good Natasha always made her feel. "First, you're going to watch. You're going to sit there like a good girl and watch Daddy touch herself. And you're not going to move. You're not going to touch yourself. You're not going to touch me unless I explicitly tell you to. You're just going to sit there and watch and be good. Understand?"
Wanda nodded, not trusting her voice.
"Out loud, baby girl. I need to hear you say it."
"Yes, Daddy. I understand."
"Good. And what are the rules?"
"No touching myself. No touching you unless you tell me to. Stay on the couch. Watch you."
"Perfect." Natasha's hand moved to her own chest, cupping one of her breasts, thumb brushing over her nipple. "And if you're very good—if you follow all my instructions perfectly, if you don't complain or beg too much—then maybe I'll let you on the nice list. Maybe I'll let you ride Daddy's cock. Would you like that?"
"Yes," Wanda breathed, clenching her hands together in her lap to keep from touching.
"I thought so." Natasha's thumb circled her nipple again, watching it harden under her touch. "Now. Watch. Don't miss a single thing. Because this is what you get when you've been naughty—you get to watch Daddy make herself feel good, and you don't get to help. You don't get to touch. You just get to sit there and want."
Wanda's hands clenched tighter in her lap as she watched Natasha touch herself. One hand on her breast, playing with her nipple, occasionally pinching it in a way that made her breath catch and her eyes flutter. The other hand slid down those perfect abs—Wanda watched every muscle twitch and flex—and under the harness between her legs.
"Fuck," Wanda whispered before she could stop herself.
"Language, baby girl," Natasha chided, but there was amusement in her voice. Affection. "Just watch. That's all you have to do right now. Sit there and be good and watch Daddy touch herself."
Wanda bit her lip hard and watched.
Natasha took her time. Her fingers moved lazily through her own wetness—and she was wet, Wanda could see the shine on her fingers every time they reappeared, could hear the soft slick sounds that made her mouth water and her core clench desperately. Could see the way Natasha's thighs tensed slightly with each movement, the way her stomach muscles jumped.
"You want to know something?" Natasha asked, her voice slightly breathless now. "I've been sitting here for thirty minutes. Waiting for you. Thinking about all the things I'm going to do to you tonight. Thinking about how pretty you're going to look sitting on my cock. How good you're going to feel. How beautiful you look when you fall apart for me. And it got me so fucking wet just thinking about it."
Wanda whimpered, unable to help herself. The sound escaped before she could stop it.
"You like that?" Natasha's fingers found her clit—Wanda could tell by the way her hips shifted, by the small gasp that fell from her lips. "You like knowing that Daddy got wet thinking about you? That I've been sitting here aching for you?"
"Yes," Wanda gasped. "God, yes."
"Such a good girl. Sitting there so still. Being so obedient even though I can see how much you want to touch." Natasha's hand on her breast squeezed harder, and her other hand moved faster between her legs. "I can see it on your face. See how badly you want to come over here. But you're not going to, are you? Because you're going to follow my rules perfectly."
"Yes, Daddy."
"That's my girl."
Natasha's movements were getting more focused now, more purposeful. Two fingers working her clit in tight, quick circles while her other hand moved from her breast down to her entrance. Wanda watched with desperate, rapt attention as Natasha pushed two fingers inside herself with a low, filthy moan that went straight to Wanda's core.
"Fuck," Natasha breathed, her head falling back against the chair. The Santa hat stayed perfectly in place—somehow, impossibly. "That's good. That's so fucking good."
Wanda was going to die. She was going to actually die from watching this. From watching Natasha fuck herself with her own fingers while that thick dildo jutted up from the harness, while her muscles flexed and moved with every motion, while those gorgeous sounds fell from her lips—gasps and moans and the wet sounds of her fingers working inside herself.
Her hands were clenched so tightly in her lap that her knuckles had gone white. Her thighs were pressed together, trying to get any friction at all. She was so wet already, could feel it, and Natasha hadn't even touched her yet.
"Daddy," Wanda breathed, and she didn't even know what she was asking for.
"I know, baby girl. I know." Natasha's eyes opened, locking onto Wanda's, and the intensity there was almost enough to make Wanda look away. Almost. "You're being so good for me. So perfect. Just watch. Watch Daddy make herself cum thinking about you."
Her movements were faster now, more desperate. Fingers working her clit, fingers pumping inside, both hands moving in perfect coordination. Her breathing was harsh and uneven, her thighs trembling, her abs tensing in a way that made Wanda want to bite them, lick them, worship them.
"That's it," Natasha gasped, talking to herself now, lost in it. "Right there—fuck—so close—"
Wanda watched, completely transfixed, as Natasha's whole body went rigid. Her back arched off the chair, her thighs clenched, her hands never stopped their movements as she came with a low, guttural moan that Wanda felt in her bones.
It was the hottest thing Wanda had ever seen in her entire life. And she'd seen a lot.
When Natasha finally relaxed, breathing hard, she looked at Wanda with heavy-lidded eyes and a satisfied, dangerous smile.
"Good girl," she said, her voice rough and wrecked. "Such a good girl. You didn't move once. Didn't touch yourself even though I could see how badly you wanted to."
"I wanted to so much," Wanda admitted, her voice shaky. Her whole body was trembling with the effort of staying still.
"I know you did. I could see it. Could see how much it cost you to just sit there and watch." Natasha pulled her fingers out—both hands—and Wanda could see how wet they were, glistening in the light. "But you did it. You followed my instructions perfectly. Do you know how good that makes you?"
Wanda shook her head, not trusting her voice.
"So good," Natasha said. "So incredibly good. I'm very proud of you, detka."
The praise washed over Wanda like a wave, and she felt herself sinking even deeper into subspace. That floaty, soft place where everything was simple and good and right. Where Natasha's approval was the only thing that mattered in the entire universe.
"Color?" Natasha asked, her voice gentler now. Checking in like she always did.
"Green," Wanda said immediately. "So green, Daddy. So, so green."
"Good." Natasha's smile widened, pleased. "Then let's continue. Come here. Kneel for Daddy."
Wanda was off the couch immediately, crossing the space between them on legs that shook slightly. She dropped to her knees in front of the chair without being told, muscle memory and instinct guiding her, settling between Natasha's spread thighs. She looked up with wide eyes, waiting for the next instruction.
The dildo was right there, inches from her face. She could smell Natasha's arousal, could see the wet shine on her inner thighs, and she wanted it so badly she could taste it.
"Look at you," Natasha murmured, reaching down to cup Wanda's face with one hand. The hand that had just been inside herself. Wanda could smell her arousal even stronger now, and it made her dizzy. "So eager. So ready to please. So perfect on your knees for me. You want to suck Daddy's cock, don't you, malyshka?"
"Yes, Daddy," Wanda breathed. "Please. Please let me."
"Such good manners." Natasha's thumb brushed over Wanda's bottom lip, pressing slightly. Wanda's mouth opened automatically, and Natasha pushed her thumb inside. "Suck."
Wanda did, closing her lips around Natasha's thumb and sucking obediently. She let her tongue swirl around the digit, tasting Natasha's arousal, making it a show because she knew Natasha liked to watch. She hollowed her cheeks, sucked harder, kept her eyes locked on Natasha's face.
"Fuck," Natasha breathed, her eyes darkening even further. "You're so pretty like this. On your knees for me. Mouth open and eager. So ready to be good." She pulled her thumb out slowly, watching the way Wanda's lips clung to it, the way a thin strand of saliva connected them for a moment before breaking. "Okay, baby girl. You can suck Daddy's cock now. Show me what a good girl you are. Show me you deserve to be on the nice list."
Wanda leaned forward immediately, one hand coming up to grip the base of the dildo for stability, the other bracing on Natasha's thick, muscular thigh. She could feel the strength there, the power, and it made her even wetter.
She pressed a kiss to the tip first—reverent, grateful for permission, worshipful—then licked a long stripe up the entire length of it. The silicone was smooth and tasteless, warmed slightly from being against Natasha's skin, but Wanda didn't care. This wasn't about the dildo. This was about Natasha. This was about showing Natasha how good she could be, how much she wanted this, how perfectly she could follow instructions.
"That's it," Natasha encouraged, her hand moving to rest in Wanda's hair. Not pulling, not pushing, just holding. Grounding. Present. "Take your time, detka. Show Daddy how much you want it."
Wanda took the tip into her mouth, sucking gently, letting her tongue swirl around it like it was real. Like she could actually taste Natasha. Then she took more, working her way down inch by inch, using all the skills she'd perfected over years of doing this. Years of learning exactly what Natasha liked. Relaxing her throat, breathing steadily through her nose, taking it deeper and deeper until her nose was pressed against Natasha's stomach and the dildo was buried completely in her throat.
"Fuck," Natasha gasped above her, and Wanda felt the hand in her hair tighten almost painfully. "That's my good girl. Taking it all. Taking all of Daddy's cock like you were made for it."
Wanda held there for a moment, eyes watering slightly from the stretch, throat working around the intrusion. Then she pulled back to breathe, gasping slightly, before doing it again. And again. Setting a rhythm. Bobbing her head, taking the dildo deep every time, occasionally pulling off completely to lick up the sides or focus on the tip before taking it back down her throat.
"You look so fucking pretty like this," Natasha said, her voice strained now. Affected. "So beautiful with your mouth full. With Daddy's cock down your throat. Wish you could see yourself right now. See how perfect you look."
Wanda moaned around the dildo, the vibration making Natasha gasp. She knew that every time she took it deep, the base pressed against Natasha's clit. Knew that she was giving Natasha pleasure even while following instructions. The thought made her work harder, take it deeper, move faster.
"That's it, baby girl. Just like that." Natasha's hips started moving slightly, small rocks that pushed the dildo even deeper into Wanda's throat, making her gag slightly before she adjusted. "Gonna make Daddy cum again just from watching you. Just from feeling you suck my cock so perfectly. Just from seeing how eager you are to please me."
Wanda doubled her efforts, hollowing her cheeks, relaxing her throat even more. Drool was dripping down her chin now, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes from the stretch and the effort, her jaw starting to ache. She knew she must look absolutely wrecked—messy and desperate and used—and she knew Natasha loved it.
"Fuck—fuck—" Natasha's hand tightened in her hair almost to the point of pain. "I'm gonna cum, baby girl. Gonna cum from watching you be such a good girl for me—don't stop—yes—"
Wanda felt Natasha's thighs tense on either side of her head, felt the way her whole body went completely rigid. She kept sucking, kept moving, drawing it out as long as possible until Natasha finally pushed her back gently with a shaky hand.
"Stop—too much—sensitive—" Natasha was breathing hard, her chest heaving, a light sheen of sweat on her skin. "Good girl. Such a good fucking girl. Come here."
Wanda sat back on her heels, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her jaw ached, her throat felt raw, her knees hurt from the hard floor, and she'd never been happier in her entire life.
"Up," Natasha said, tugging gently on her hair. "Come up here, malyshka."
Wanda stood on shaky legs, and Natasha guided her into her lap. Not sitting on the dildo yet—not yet—just straddling Natasha's thick thighs, both of them pressed close together. Natasha's arms came around her immediately, holding her tight, and Wanda melted into the embrace.
"You did so well," Natasha murmured, pressing kisses everywhere she could reach. Wanda's neck, her jaw, her cheeks, her forehead. "So incredibly well. I'm so proud of you, detka."
"Thank you, Daddy," Wanda whispered.
"How are you feeling? Check in with me properly."
"Good. Really good. Floaty."
"Jaw okay? Knees?"
"Little sore but nothing bad. All green."
"Color overall?"
"So green. The greenest."
"Good." Natasha pulled back slightly to look at her properly, studying her face. "Because now it's time for the next part. You've been such a good girl—watching when I told you to, sucking Daddy's cock so perfectly—but you're not on the nice list yet. You still need to earn it. Think you can do that for me?"
"Yes," Wanda said immediately. "Anything. I'll do anything."
"That's what I like to hear." Natasha's hands moved to the hem of Wanda's shirt—a soft cashmere sweater she'd worn for shopping. "But first we need to get you naked. Can't have you warming Daddy's cock with all these clothes in the way."
Wait. Warming?
"I—what?" Wanda's brain stuttered.
"Did I stutter, baby girl?" Natasha was already pulling off Wanda's sweater, helping her navigate her arms out of the sleeves. "You're going to warm my cock. Sit on it nice and still while you finish wrapping those presents you brought home. Show me how good you can be at following instructions even when you're desperate."
Oh fuck.
Wanda's core clenched hard at the thought. At the idea of being full, stretched, aching, while trying to accomplish a task. While trying to focus on anything other than the need building inside her.
"Daddy," she breathed.
"That's not a color." Natasha unhooked Wanda's bra, tossing it aside. "What's your color, detka?"
"Green. So green."
"Good girl." Natasha's hands moved to Wanda's jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them. "Up. Let's get these off."
Wanda stood on trembling legs, and Natasha helped her out of her jeans and underwear—cute lace panties that were absolutely soaked through. Soon she was completely bare, standing between Natasha's legs, and Natasha's hands roamed appreciatively over every inch of newly exposed skin.
"Beautiful," Natasha murmured, her hands cupping Wanda's breasts, thumbs brushing over nipples that were already hard. "So beautiful. And all mine."
"Yours, Daddy," Wanda agreed, her voice dreamy.
"That's right." Natasha's hand slid down Wanda's stomach, between her legs, and they both gasped when her fingers made contact. "Fuck, baby girl. You're soaked. You're dripping."
"Been like that since I walked in," Wanda admitted breathlessly.
"Since you saw Daddy sitting here in just a hat and a harness?" Natasha's fingers circled Wanda's clit teasingly, making her hips jerk forward. "Since you watched me make myself cum?"
"Yes—god—yes—"
"Such a good girl. Getting so wet for Daddy without even being touched." Natasha's fingers moved lower, pushing inside easily—two at once because Wanda was so ready. Wanda gasped at the intrusion, at the stretch, and Natasha worked her gently for a moment. "And so ready. Think you can take Daddy's cock now? Think you're ready for it?"
"Yes," Wanda breathed desperately. "Please, Daddy. Please let me."
"Since you asked so nicely." Natasha removed her fingers, making Wanda whimper at the loss. "Turn around. I want your back to me for this."
Wanda turned, confused for a moment, until she realized what Natasha wanted. She'd be facing out into the room, facing the coffee table where her shopping bags were sitting. Where she'd be wrapping presents.
"Lift up," Natasha instructed, her hands on Wanda's hips guiding her. "Nice and slow. I want to watch you take every inch."
Wanda lifted up on shaky legs, and Natasha positioned the dildo at her entrance with one hand while the other gripped Wanda's hip firmly.
"Slowly," Natasha commanded, her voice low and rough. "Take it slow. I want to feel you sink down on it. Want to watch you take all of Daddy's cock."
Wanda started to lower herself, and the stretch was immediate and intense and perfect. The dildo was thick—one of their bigger ones—and even though she was soaked, it took effort to take it. She went slowly, inch by inch, feeling every bit of the stretch.
"That's it," Natasha encouraged, and Wanda could hear the strain in her voice. Could feel the way Natasha's hands tightened on her hips. "That's my good girl. Taking it so well. Taking Daddy's cock so perfectly."
When Wanda was finally fully seated—the dildo buried completely inside her, her ass pressed against Natasha's hips—they both just breathed for a long moment. Wanda felt impossibly full, stretched in the best way, and Natasha's hands on her hips were grounding and possessive.
"Okay?" Natasha asked, genuine concern beneath the dominance.
"Yes," Wanda managed. Her voice came out strangled. "So okay. So full."
"Good." Natasha's hands stroked up and down Wanda's sides soothingly before one moved around to cup her breast. "Now here's what's going to happen. You're going to sit here and warm Daddy's cock. You're going to keep me nice and deep inside you, keep me warm, while you wrap those presents on the coffee table. And you're not going to move your hips. Not an inch. Not even a little bit. Understand?"
Wanda's eyes widened. "But—"
"But nothing." Natasha's hand on her breast squeezed, thumb brushing over her nipple. "You wanted to earn your spot on the nice list, didn't you?"
"Yes, Daddy, but—"
"Then this is how you earn it. You sit here and warm my cock like a good girl. You wrap your presents neatly, and they better be neat because I'll be checking, while staying completely still. No grinding. No moving. No trying to fuck yourself on me. You just sit here full and desperate and show me how good you can be."
"How long?" Wanda asked, already feeling desperate. She was so full, so stretched, and she wanted to move so badly.
"As long as it takes to wrap those presents." Natasha gestured to the coffee table. "I count three. Should take you maybe fifteen, twenty minutes if you focus. But we'll see how good you are at concentrating when you're stuffed full of Daddy's cock."
"I can't—that's too long—"
"Color?" Natasha's voice was firm.
Wanda took a breath. Checked in with herself. She was nervous, yes. This would be hard, yes. But it wasn't too much. Not really. "Green."
"Good girl." Natasha kissed her shoulder. "Now. Lean forward. Grab that first present. Let's see how steady your hands are."
Wanda leaned forward slightly—and immediately had to bite back a moan because the movement shifted the dildo inside her, pressed it against different spots, made her so aware of how full she was. She reached for the coffee table, for the first gift bag sitting there, and pulled it and the wrapping supplies toward her.
"Good," Natasha murmured. Her hands stayed on Wanda's body—one on her hip, one cupping her breast, keeping her grounded but also constantly reminding her of the situation. "Now wrap it. Nice and neat. Show Daddy how good you can be even when you're desperate."
Wanda pulled out the first gift, a book she'd bought for Steve, and reached for the wrapping paper. Her hands were already shaking slightly.
This was going to be torture.
She cut a piece of paper, laid the book on it, tried to fold it neatly. But her hands wouldn't cooperate. They were trembling too much, and every small shift of her body made the dildo move inside her, made her more aware of how full she was, how much she wanted to move.
"Struggling?" Natasha's voice was amused. Her hand moved from Wanda's breast to her stomach, splaying wide, holding her steady. "You're shaking, malyshka."
"Can't help it," Wanda gasped. She managed to get one side of the paper folded, but the tape kept sticking to her fingers instead of the paper.
"Try harder." But Natasha's other hand moved from her hip to between her legs, fingers finding her clit and circling it lightly. "Maybe this will help. Or make it worse. We'll see."
"Daddy," Wanda whimpered. The added stimulation was almost too much. She was so full, so stretched, and now Natasha was touching her clit in teasing circles that made her want to grind down, to move, to fuck herself on the dildo.
"Keep wrapping," Natasha commanded, her fingers never stopping their lazy circles. "You're not done with that present yet. The paper's all crooked."
Wanda looked down at her work with watery eyes. The paper was crooked, one corner folded completely wrong, tape everywhere except where it was supposed to be. She tried again, tried to straighten it, but her hands were shaking so badly now that she could barely hold the paper.
"I can't—" she gasped. "Daddy, I can't focus—"
"Yes you can." Natasha's fingers pressed harder against her clit, making Wanda's hips jerk involuntarily before she caught herself. "Stay still. You moved. That's not following instructions, baby girl."
"Sorry—I'm sorry—"
"Shh. It's okay. Just try again. Take your time." Natasha's hand on her stomach rubbed soothing circles even as her other hand kept up the torturous teasing between her legs. "You can do this. I know you can. You're my good girl, aren't you?"
"Yes, Daddy," Wanda breathed, trying desperately to focus on the wrapping paper instead of the fullness inside her, the fingers on her clit, the heat of Natasha's body behind her.
She managed to get the paper mostly straight, managed to get tape on it (after three tries where it stuck to her fingers instead), managed to fold the ends down. It wasn't perfect—nowhere near her usual neat wrapping job—but it was done.
"Good girl," Natasha praised, and the warmth in her voice made Wanda's chest glow even through the overwhelming sensation. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"
"It was impossible," Wanda gasped.
"But you did it anyway. Because you're good for me." Natasha's fingers left her clit—Wanda whimpered at the loss—and both hands moved to Wanda's hips, steadying her. "Two more to go. And I think you can handle them without my help this time. Think you can do that for Daddy?"
"I—yes—I'll try—"
"That's my girl." Natasha leaned forward slightly, pressing her chest against Wanda's back, and the movement shifted the dildo inside her in a way that made Wanda see stars. "Remember. Still. No moving. Show me how good you can be."
Wanda reached for the second gift with trembling hands. A sweater for Tony, because the man owned approximately three hundred iron man hoodies and nothing actually nice. She pulled out wrapping paper and tried to cut it to the right size.
The scissors slipped. She had to try again.
Every small movement made her more aware of what was inside her. Made her core clench involuntarily around the dildo. Made her thighs tremble with the effort of staying still when every instinct in her body was screaming to move, to ride, to chase the relief she desperately needed.
"You're doing so well," Natasha murmured in her ear, her voice low and rough. "Look how hard you're trying. How focused you are even though I know you're desperate. Even though I can feel how wet you are, how much you're clenching around my cock. You're being so good for me, detka."
The praise helped. Wanda focused on it, let it ground her, let it give her the strength to keep going. She got the paper cut to size, wrapped it around the sweater, managed to get the tape on correctly this time. Her hands were still shaking, but less. She was finding her focus, sinking deeper into the subspace where Natasha's voice was the only thing that mattered.
"There you go," Natasha encouraged. "That's better. That's neater. You're getting the hang of it now."
"Feels so full," Wanda gasped as she reached for ribbon to tie around the package. "Daddy, I'm so full, I need—"
"I know what you need. And you'll get it when you've finished your task." Natasha's hands moved up to cup both of Wanda's breasts now, thumbs brushing over her nipples. "But not until then. You need to earn it. Need to show me you can follow instructions even when it's hard."
Wanda tied the ribbon with shaking fingers, managing a decent bow on the third try. The second present was done. One more.
"Good girl," Natasha praised, pinching Wanda's nipples gently. "One more. Just one more and then you'll have earned your reward. Can you do it?"
"Yes, Daddy," Wanda breathed. She was so far gone now, so deep in subspace that the only thing keeping her grounded was Natasha's voice, Natasha's hands, Natasha's presence behind her.
The third gift was a set of nice pens for Bruce—the man was always losing his and borrowing other people's. Wanda pulled out the last of the wrapping paper, this time a elegant silver pattern. Her hands were steadier now, her focus sharper despite the overwhelming fullness inside her.
She was getting into a rhythm. Cut the paper. Lay it flat. Center the gift. Fold one side, then the other. Tape. Fold the ends. More tape. Smooth it down.
"Look at you," Natasha murmured, and there was genuine pride in her voice. "Look how well you're doing. Such a good girl. So obedient. So perfect for me."
Wanda's hands were still shaking, but she managed. She wrapped the present neatly—not perfect, but much better than the first one. She reached for the ribbon, tried to tie it, fumbled it twice, and felt tears of frustration prick at her eyes.
"Shh," Natasha soothed immediately. "It's okay, malyshka. You're doing so well. Let Daddy help."
Natasha's hands came around her, covering Wanda's shaking ones. Together they tied the ribbon, Natasha's steady fingers guiding Wanda's trembling ones through the motions. It was intimate and grounding and perfect, and when the bow was finished, Wanda felt a wave of accomplishment wash over her.
"There," Natasha said softly. "Perfect. You did it, baby girl. You wrapped all three presents while keeping Daddy's cock warm inside you. While staying so still and good even though I know how hard it was. I'm so proud of you."
"Thank you, Daddy," Wanda gasped, and she was crying now—not from sadness but from overwhelming emotion, from the intensity of the scene, from how good it felt to please Natasha.
"Oh, detka." Natasha's arms came around her fully, holding her close. "You're okay. You did so well. So incredibly well. Are you with me? Color?"
"Green," Wanda managed through her tears. "So green. Just—a lot—"
"I know. I know, baby girl." Natasha pressed kisses to her shoulder, her neck. "You did perfectly. You earned your spot on the nice list. You earned everything. And now Daddy's going to take care of you. Does that sound good?"
"Yes—please—"
"Okay. Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to let you move now. You can ride Daddy's cock. You can take what you need. But you're not going to cum until I give you permission. Understand?"
Wanda nodded frantically. "Yes—yes, Daddy, I understand—"
"Good. Then move, baby girl. Show me how much you need it."
Wanda didn't need to be told twice. She immediately started lifting up and sinking back down, and the relief was overwhelming. Finally—finally—getting the friction she'd been craving for what felt like hours. The dildo dragged against every sensitive spot inside her, and she set a desperate rhythm immediately.
"That's it," Natasha encouraged, her hands gripping Wanda's hips hard enough to bruise, helping guide her movements. "Take it. Take what you need. You've been so patient. So good. Now take Daddy's cock like you've been dying to."
Wanda bounced in Natasha's lap, completely graceless and desperate. All technique abandoned, just pure need driving her movements. The dildo was hitting that perfect spot inside her with every drop of her hips, and combined with how worked up she already was, she was careening toward orgasm embarrassingly fast.
"Not yet," Natasha said, somehow reading her body perfectly. "You don't cum yet. Hold it."
"I can't—" Wanda was gasping now, her rhythm faltering. "Daddy, I can't hold it—I'm so close—"
"Yes you can." Natasha's hand moved between Wanda's legs, fingers finding her clit and circling it firmly. "You can hold it because I told you to. Because you're my good girl and you follow my instructions. Even when it's hard. Even when you're desperate."
Wanda sobbed, trying desperately to hold back the orgasm that was building rapidly in her core. Her thighs were burning from the effort of riding, her body was trembling all over, and Natasha's fingers on her clit were making it nearly impossible to maintain control.
"Please," she begged. "Please, Daddy, I've been so good—I wrapped the presents—I stayed still—please let me cum—"
"Not yet," Natasha said firmly. "I want to watch you struggle. Want to see how long you can hold it for me. Want to see how obedient you can be."
Wanda let out a broken sound, something between a sob and a moan. She was right on the edge, teetering, every muscle in her body tensed with the effort of holding back. Her movements had become erratic, losing the rhythm, just desperate grinding.
"Look at you," Natasha murmured. "Look how desperate you are. How badly you need to cum. But you're not going to, are you? Not until I say so."
"I'm trying—" Wanda gasped. "I'm trying so hard—"
"I know you are. I can feel it." Natasha's fingers pressed harder on her clit. "You're shaking. Your thighs are trembling. You keep clenching around my cock. You're right there, aren't you? Right on the edge?"
"Yes—"
"Good." Natasha's other hand moved up to wrap loosely around Wanda's throat—not squeezing, just holding, just reminding her who was in control. "Because now I want you to beg for it. Beg Daddy to let you cum."
"Please," Wanda sobbed immediately. "Please, Daddy, please let me cum—I've been so good—I've done everything you asked—please—"
"More," Natasha commanded. "Tell me why you deserve it."
"I watched you—I stayed still—I sucked your cock—I wrapped the presents even though I could barely focus—I warmed your cock for so long—I've been so good, Daddy, please—" The words were tumbling out now, desperate and broken. "I need it so much—I need to cum—please let me—please—I'll do anything—"
"Anything?" Natasha's voice was rough now, affected. "You'd do anything for me?"
"Anything—please—Daddy, please—"
"Such a good girl." Natasha's hand on her throat tightened just slightly, and her fingers on Wanda's clit moved faster. "Okay, detka. You've earned it. Cum for Daddy. Cum right now."
The permission was all Wanda needed. She came with a sharp, broken cry, her whole body seizing in Natasha's lap. The orgasm crashed over her in intense waves, and she kept moving through it, kept riding, drawing it out as long as possible. Every nerve ending was on fire, pleasure rolling through her in waves that seemed endless.
"That's it," Natasha praised, her hands never stopping their movements. "That's my good girl. Cumming so beautifully for Daddy. Look how perfect you are. Look how good you are."
When Wanda finally started to come down, she was completely wrecked. Gasping and shaking, tears streaming down her face, barely able to hold herself up. Natasha caught her immediately, wrapping her arms around her and holding her close.
"I've got you," Natasha murmured, pressing kisses everywhere she could reach. "I've got you, baby girl. You're safe. You did so well. So perfectly."
"Thank you," Wanda managed to gasp out. "Thank you, Daddy."
"No, thank you." Natasha carefully lifted Wanda up, helping her off the dildo. Wanda whimpered at the sudden emptiness, at the loss, and Natasha soothed her with gentle touches. "You were incredible. So obedient. So perfect. I'm so proud of you, malyshka."
Wanda was completely boneless, unable to do anything but let Natasha maneuver her. Natasha turned her around so they were facing each other, settled her in her lap, and wrapped her arms around her securely.
"How are you feeling?" Natasha asked, genuine concern in her voice now. Scene voice dropping away, just Natasha taking care of her. "Are you okay?"
"Good," Wanda managed, her voice hoarse. "Really good. Tired. Floaty."
"You went pretty deep. That was intense."
"It was perfect," Wanda said, burrowing into Natasha's chest. "Everything was perfect."
"You cried. Was that too much?"
"No. It was just—a lot. A good lot. Overwhelming in the best way." Wanda pulled back slightly to look at Natasha. "I'm okay. Really. More than okay."
"Promise?"
"Promise." Wanda managed a tired smile. "That was amazing. The strapwarming was so hard but so good. And you helping me with the last present—that was—" She couldn't find the words.
"I could see you struggling. Couldn't leave my girl like that." Natasha cupped her face gently. "You did so well, detka. Better than I expected. Twenty minutes is a long time to stay still like that."
"Felt like forever," Wanda admitted.
"I know. But you did it." Natasha kissed her forehead. "Now. Water. Food. Shower. In that order."
"Can we just stay like this for a minute?" Wanda didn't want to move yet. Wanted to stay wrapped in Natasha's arms, warm and safe and loved.
"Of course." Natasha reached over to grab a throw blanket from the arm of the chair, wrapping it around both of them. "We can stay here as long as you want."
They sat like that for a while, just breathing together. Natasha kept up the gentle touches—stroking Wanda's hair, rubbing her back, occasionally pressing kisses to her temple. Slowly, gradually, Wanda started to come back to herself. The floaty feeling didn't entirely disappear, but she felt more grounded. More present.
"Hey," Natasha said eventually. "Still with me?"
"Yeah." Wanda nuzzled into her neck. "I'm here."
"Good." Natasha stood up carefully, keeping Wanda wrapped around her, showing off those muscles Wanda loved. "Bathroom. Let's get you cleaned up."
Natasha carried her to the bathroom—which should have been embarrassing but just felt caring—and set her on the counter. She removed the harness and set it in the sink to be cleaned later, then grabbed a warm washcloth and cleaned Wanda gently, carefully, paying attention to every sensitive spot.
"You're taking such good care of me," Wanda murmured, watching through half-closed eyes.
"Always." Natasha finished cleaning her and tossed the washcloth in the hamper. "That's my job. Taking care of my girl after a scene."
"I like when you call me your girl."
"You are my girl. My good girl. My perfect girl." Natasha kissed her softly. "My girl who just earned top spot on the nice list."
Wanda smiled, warm and happy and satisfied. "What do I win?"
"Whatever you want. Within reason." Natasha helped her off the counter. "Can you stand?"
"Yeah." Wanda's legs were shaky but functional. "I'm okay."
"Good. Then let's get you some water and food, and then we can curl up on the couch." Natasha grabbed her hand, leading her back to the living room. "Thai sound good?"
"Sounds perfect."
They settled on the couch together, Natasha in sweatpants and a t-shirt now, Wanda in one of Natasha's hoodies and soft shorts. Natasha ordered Thai food while Wanda drank an entire bottle of water, then grabbed another one at Natasha's insistence.
"How are you feeling now?" Natasha asked, pulling Wanda close under a blanket. "Really."
"Really good. Satisfied. Happy." Wanda looked up at her. "Loved."
"You are loved." Natasha kissed her softly. "So loved. You know that, right?"
"I know. I feel it every time we do this. Every time you take care of me after." Wanda played with the strings of her borrowed hoodie. "Thank you. For all of it."
"You don't have to thank me. I love doing this with you. I love that you trust me enough to let me control you like that. To push you." Natasha's arms tightened around her. "It's the best gift you could give me. Your trust. Your submission."
"You make it easy to give. Because I know you'll always take care of me." Wanda was quiet for a moment. "The present wrapping was genius, by the way. Evil, but genius."
Natasha laughed. "You did so well with it though. Better than I expected, honestly. I thought you'd give up halfway through the first one."
"I almost did. But I wanted to be good for you."
"You were. You are. Always." Natasha tilted Wanda's chin up, looking into her eyes seriously. "If it ever gets to be too much, you tell me. You know your safewords. You know I'll stop immediately."
"I know. But it wasn't too much. It was perfect." Wanda smiled. "Although I don't know if I'll ever be able to wrap presents again without thinking about this."
"Good. That was the goal." Natasha smirked. "Every time you wrap a gift this holiday season, you'll remember sitting on my cock, desperate and shaking, trying to focus while I teased you."
"You're evil."
"You love it."
"I really do."