
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6044779.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Mad_Max_Series_(Movies)
  Relationship:
      Furiosa/Immortan_Joe
  Character:
      Furiosa_(Mad_Max), Immortan_Joe
  Additional Tags:
      Warning:_Immortan_Joe, Painful_Sex, Forced_Orgasm, creepy_sweet-talking
      Joe, Teenage_Wife_Furiosa, Everything_Hurts, Pre-Canon
  Collections:
      Mad_Max_Kink_Meme
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-02-18 Words: 1219
****** Jumpstart ******
by immortanskitten
Summary
     Based on a Kink Meme Dark Shit prompt about Joe being "nice" to his
     wives by making sure they orgasm. Pretty much as gross as you'd
     expect.
Notes
     The original prompt is here:
     "Basically I want for Furiosa to have been one of the Wives when she
     was younger, and it's terrible and dehumanizing and completely framed
     as rape but it's not physically brutal. Joe might have to restrain
     her maybe but he doesn't want to damage one of his precious baby-
     makers.
     Actually I'd really like if Joe was attentive enough that she orgasms
     from it at least some of the time (and hates it even more because of
     that) Maybe he thinks he's being a "good husband", maybe he thinks
     she's more likely to conceive if she comes, maybe he gets off on the
     mental domination aspect, maybe it's just Furiosa's body reacting
     without any extra input from him.
     Bonus points if he creepily sweet-talks her the entire time."
He’s waiting for her when she enters the room at the top of the stairs, the
room filled with light and plush furniture and awful memories. This time he’s
sitting in the big stuffed chair in the corner, and she sees that he’s already
taken his pants off and stroked himself hard.
“What do you want?” she asks dully as she removes her cloth.
In the beginning she had fought him every time, clawed and kicked and bit and
screamed. None of it had mattered. He always took her anyway.
He smiles at her, one hand idly playing with his prick, and it makes her
insides squirm. He doesn’t wear the mask in the purified air of the Vault, but
he’s no less terrifying without it.
“Come here and sit on Daddy’s lap.”
She swallows back bile and makes herself cross the room. When she’s in grabbing
reach he puts his hands on her waist and turns her around so her back is to
him. “That’s right, pet,” he coos when she awkwardly straddles his lap. His
fingers on her hip urge her back until she feels the head of his cock press
against her opening. “That’s right, just like that.”
She expects him to thrust into her, but instead he tugs her hips back and she
realizes she’s meant to lower herself down onto him. It’s somehow worse, slowly
skewering herself on his thick, veiny cock. She has to spread her legs wide to
get around his hips, and it’s hard in this position to unclench the muscles
that make it hurt less. She’s dry inside and it burns as she works him slowly
into her.
She doesn’t like letting him know how much he hurts her, but when he grasps her
hips and tugs her down the last inch against his lap a small cry of pain
escapes her.
“Ssh, ssh, easy there, pet,” he hums as she squeezes her eyes shut and tries to
will her muscles to relax around his cock. His hand cards through her hair,
always brushed out thick and long the way he likes it, and there’s something
almost gentle about it. It makes her skin crawl.
His hand strokes over her back, soft and slow and…is he trying to comfort her?
“Ssh, ssh,” he purrs. “It doesn’t have to hurt. I can make it feel good for
you.”
A hand wraps around from behind to cup her breast, big enough to cover the
whole thing. Blunt fingers tease and pinch and tug at her nipple, and she’s
shocked to feel it grow hard under his touch, shocked to feel a twinge of
arousal. It makes her nauseous.
“Ahh, see what a good Wife you make?” His hot, foul breath is on her neck, and
then she feels his mouth there, sucking and licking and nipping at her earlobe,
and she feels sick at the pulse of heat is sends through her. “Your body is so
responsive. It would be easy to make you come like this.”
A wave of revulsion sweeps her at the thought. “No…please, I don’t want to,”
comes out even though she knows he has never once before listened to her cries.
An arm slides up between her breasts, a hand on her shoulder pinning her in
place against his chest. His skin is powdery and oddly soft and always makes
her squirm. “You are my Wife,” he breathes in her ear as the fingers of his
other hand tug at a nipple, “and if I want to give you pleasure I will.” His
voice is just as quiet and easy as before but it makes her shudder.
His hand slides over the skin between her legs—he always makes her shave there
before he visits her—his knees nudging apart to keep her splayed open for him.
A finger slides down and rubs over the spot at the top of her opening, slow
repetitive circles. It sends a horrid shiver of pleasure through her.
His fingers worm deeper, down between her folds, and she shudders when she
feels them slide against wetness there. “See? Your body is already obeying me.”
He slides the tips of his fingers inside her, up against where his cock is sill
lodged in, and slicks the wetness out to smear over the spot he was touching
before, circling and flicking and teasing, and, ugh, she can feel heat building
up inside her against her will.
A whimper of disgust escapes her and he takes it for arousal; of course he
does. “That’s right, my good little girl,” he says. “You’re going to come for
me.”
She doesn’t want to. She hates the thought of it, hates him and hates her
stupid traitorous body for betraying her. He’s moving his hips just slightly,
rocking inside her, and now that she’s wet it’s sending little shocks of
pleasure through her, and she hates that too.
“You’re so good, my sweet little Kitten,” he says, and she hates his stupid
nickname for her too. “You’re going to come with my cock inside you.”
He’s twitching short, hard thrusts into her, muttering nonsense in her ear
between rough pants of breath, and it makes her want to retch. “That’s right,
come on my good girl, come for me, you want to come with my cock inside you,
you want me to fill you up.” His fingers are still working, and when they flick
hard against her she gasps before she can stop herself, and he keeps doing it,
and she can feel an awful shuddery wave building up inside her.
The arm around her shoulder clamps tight, holding her in place as her pussy
clenches and spasms around him, and his fingers press and rub hard, and she
tries to hold everything in but a tiny moan escapes her as the waves of
unwanted pleasure roll over her. And it’s awful and it feels good and it’s been
so long since she felt any kind of pleasure at all that some tiny sick deep
part of her uncoils with relief, and she hates that most of all.
“Ahh, yes, that’s it, that’s my good girl,” he’s hissing in her ear, thrusting
hard and fast into her now, and she can hear the squelch and slap of wet flesh,
and then he grunts and spills hot inside her.
His sweaty chest is heaving against her and his cock is softening inside her
and she hates that she somehow feels more broken than the times he forced her
down kicking and screaming. She can feel tears pricking her eyes and she won’t,
she won’t cry in front of him, but one disobedient trickle slides down her
cheek anyway.
“Ssh, ssh, ssh.” He eases his cock out and finally lets her close her legs, and
then he’s leaning back and wrapping his big arms around her, running fingers
through her hair and nuzzling her ear as his sticky seed cools inside her. She
squeezes her eyes shut and focuses on not letting any more tears escape.
His fingers brush her cheek, wiping away wetness, and if she didn’t know better
she might think it was gentleness. Maybe he even thinks it is. “Ssh, now,”
murmurs, still holding her pinned against him. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
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