Author’s note. This is a work of fan fiction using characters created by Marvel Comics who I assume still hold the copyright to them. It is based on the X-Men comics of the 1980s although the knowledgeable among readers will recognise that I have made one change to a character’s powers and have bent time so that certain characters can appear together. It does not in any way draw on the films of the 21st century or the depictions of these same characters by the likes of Halle Berry. Nor does it refer to the new Ultimate X-Men ongoing series.
The series includes a large number of violent, non-consensual sexual acts. In the real world such acts are despicable crimes, even when carried out against super villains. This is a work of fiction and should be treated as such.
Mystique
Raven Darkholme gazed at the naked form of Ilyana Rasputin who stood facing the wall. Her pale form almost shone in the dim light of the student’s room except for the scarlet right cheek of her ass which glowed a dull red. In her guise as Colossus Raven had severely beaten the young mutant and was amazed at how Magick had weathered it. Although Mystique had used every bit of the powerful muscles of her borrowed form Ilyana had barely uttered a sound, she had borne the pain with a stoicism and determination which surprised the older mutant. She had only weakened when a completely different force had overwhelmed her, driving the young mutant into paroxysms of ecstasy. Now Ilyana stood with her hands on her head, the arch of her back and tilt of her head indicating defiance despite her complete vulnerability.
‘I don’t know how the west won,’ mused Raven to herself, ‘maybe because we can withstand anything they throw at us, not despite it.’
"Are you getting this?" she asked in a low voice.
<Receiving clearly,> replied the telepathic ‘voice’ of Emma Frost, <even if this all comes to nothing we’ll make a fortune on the video rights.>
"Then I’ll begin."
Mystique turned back to her victim.
"I hope you’ve enjoyed your little rest," she said, knowing that a few minutes break would make little difference, "because now we really get to work." Ilyana said nothing, if anything her back straightened a little more. Against her own wishes Darkholme felt a surge of affection for the brave mutant, an affection she quickly quelled. "Stay where you are and bend over. If you think what you’ve had so far was a punishment you are sadly mistaken." The blond witch remained stationary, a micrometer might have registered a slight clenching of the jaw but otherwise she refused to obey her tormentor.
Mystique walked across to her ‘sister’ and grabbed the mutant’s hair painfully in her fist. "I said bend over!" She forced Ilyana’s head down until she was bent at the waist, her teenage breasts distended by gravity, her erect nipples betraying her excitement. "Keep your legs straight!" Mystique demanded as she moved back behind her prey, admiring the beautiful ass of the younger woman and wincing in sympathy at the damage she had already done. Raven then pushed her foot between Ilyana’s and forced her legs apart so the young mutant’s legs formed an inverted V, Mystique’s hand holding her so she stayed bent at he waist. "That’s right, that’s just how I want you." As she spoke Mystique/Colossus removed her belt and doubled it, holding the buckle in her hand. She rested one hand between Ilyana’s shoulder blades exerting just enough pressure to keep her in the unnatural position. "This is going to hurt you a lot more than it hurts me." She allowed a few moments for the truth of that to sink in before slashing the doubled belt down against Ilyana’s ass.
Swack!
The young Russian hissed with pain and struggled vainly, trying to straighten, but proudly refusing to try to shield herself with her hands. Mystique stroked the large fingers she had ‘borrowed’ from Colossus along the welt raised by the blow of the leather belt.
"Another couple dozen of those will do nicely," she said almost playfully. "Lets call it twenty-four for now and see how we get on." She pulled her arm back and slashed the belt down across the same ravaged cheek with a report like a pistol shot. Ilyana winced again but defiantly held her tongue, the tilt to her chin indicating she was far from broken by this treatment. "It is traditional for you to count them aloud sister mine," continued Mystique. She brought the belt down again bringing another welt up on her victim’s ass. "That’s three," she said helpfully.
"Go to hell," replied Ilyana quietly through clenched teeth, hissing in pain as Mystique responded with another savage blow.
"Is that any way to speak to your elder brother? I think not. Now count them!" If anything, the fifth blow was harder still and despite her pride Ilyana flinched away from it. Still she tossed her sweat bedraggled hair and raised her head again as her only reply. Though tears of pain sprang from her eyes she stayed silent and the only sound in the room was the sickening hiss of the belt travelling through the air and the painful cracks as it impacted again and again on Mystique’s chosen target. Blow after blow hammered against the smaller mutant’s ass and though she winced and flinched in pain at every one, and though her breath came in shallow gasps she refused to cry out. Beyond the two dozen Mystique had promised she continued to rain strokes of the impromptu whip down till the once alabaster cheek was a mass of fiery welts and the terrible pain radiated in waves from Ilyana. At last she stopped, her arm exhausted and quite frankly amazed at the stubborn pride and courage of her victim. "Well little sister, I give up. You are a credit to the family, if that won’t bring forth even a cry from you I think I could strip your back with a knout and get no more." Mystique released the slight hold she had had on Ilyana whose legs buckled at the knees and dropped her in an ungainly heap at her ‘brother’s’ feet.
"Emma," whispered Mystique, "I think it’s about time the real Colossus found out what was going on."
<Are you sure you want to go through with it?> replied the telepath.
"Yes. Send him the edited highlights, and then switch to live feed." It was done and Raven couldn’t back out now. A chill of fear and anticipation shivered through her as she turned back to her prey, though perhaps ‘bait’ was slightly more accurate.
"Well my sweet, if pain won’t break you, lets see if anything else I have will do." Her large hand picked Ilyana up by the nape of the neck and half carried, half dragged her till she was leaning with her face and breasts pressed against the wall. With her other hand she parted Magick’s legs and probed her cunt; as Mystique had expected it was dripping wet and her thighs were sticky with her own juices. Ilyana murmured a protest which turned into a moan as her tormentress thrust a long index finger between her lips. "Not a virgin?! What would our mother say?" She probed the helpless mutant for a few moments, finding and teasing her engorged clit before withdrawing. "Well, if you’re not a virgin then there’s no reason for me to hold back." She let the briefs of Colossus’ uniform fall and his gigantic prick emerged which she stroked between Ilyana’s mismatched buttocks. Ilyana hissed with pain as it pressed against her tenderised ass and then cried out in alarm.
"No! Pyotr! You can’t…no…you’re not…!"
Mystique ignored her cries and took a firm grip of the blond mutant’s hips before driving the huge weapon deep into her cunt in one smooth and forceful stroke.
"EEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!" Where all the strength of Colossus’ borrowed muscles hadn’t produced a single sound the solitary stroke of rape drew forth an anguished cry of mental agony. Ilyana’s nether lips stretched around the massive tool and the great length of it couldn’t fit within her, instead the stroke forced her into the wall leaving her impaled and raised from her feet.
"By the White Wolf you’re tight," exclaimed Mystique. "You may not be a virgin, but it’s been a long time for you hasn’t it?" She didn’t wait for an answer but continuing to hold Ilyana steady by the hips drew back and drove into her again, cramming a little more of the too big prick into the too small cunt.
"Nooooooooooooooooo!" moaned Ilyana, struggling against her ‘brother’s’ great strength. She lashed out with her arms and managed to drag her fingernails across his cheek drawing blood and marking him before Mystique caught the flailing hands. She held the blond witch’s wrists in one of her hands and grabbed her long hair with the other pulling her head back painfully.
"You little bitch!" With the mutant still impaled and raised off the ground by Colossus’ cock Mystique moved so she could reach the handcuffs she’d discarded earlier, without more ado she locked these around Ilyana’s wrists and pressed her back against the wall. Without her hands free for balance Ilyana slumped, held up by the cold wall pressed against her face and hot prick embedded in her twat. Mystique leant one forearm against Magick’s neck and brought the other hand around her waist to play with her clit as she penetrated her from behind. Thus immobilised, her legs dangling, Ilyana could only hang there like a broken marionette while she was violated by what appeared to be her own brother, a violation which proceeded apace. Mystique/Colossus drove into Magick with a smooth and fast rhythm, the strokes were hard but not violent and Ilyana resonated with their frequency.
"God Pyotr…stop…how can you…I’m your…you’re my…stoppp…pleeze don’t…stopp…." Where all the pain inflicted on her hadn’t drawn forth a plea for mercy or surcease this drove Ilyana Rasputin to tears and she begged for her lost virtue. Yet with Mystique’s fingers playing skilfully with her clit and Colossus’ giant prick pounding into her she began to quiver towards orgasm.
"Noooo, no, no! Pleeze…oh gods…oh…oh…no…yessss…no…stop…don’t…no… not…more…yess…" Conflicting cries of desire and suffering, anguish and ecstasy filled the room as Mystique rode her mount to climax. "Oh noooooooooooooooooo!" With one final cry of negation and despair Ilyana came, her cunt muscles squeezing Mystique’s prick like a vice then relaxing as she lost all sensation for the white out.
"Oh yes my sweet sister," laughed Mystique, "and oh yes again. I’m not finished yet, so neither are you." Ilyana couldn’t answer but since she could still feel her brother’s ramrod meat pumping into her and the fingers teasing and scratching at her clit she could deduce even through her orgasm-fuddled brain that it wasn’t yet over, and indeed she sensed her body still tense as a drum skin reacting to the stimulus and beginning again to rise again to the heights from which she’d just fallen.
Phoenix
Jean, or the force within her, was first to recover from the orgasm and while Wolverine was still groggy from the psychic assault her climax had initiated she span around and turned on her assailant. A claw of golden fire grabbed him and held him immobile in the air, simultaneously lashing his psyche with her telepathic attack. Logan screamed in pain and impotent anger, his berserker rage aroused again, but was unable to break free.
Phoenix’ eyes glowed with an unholy orange fire and her gaze seemed to bore into his skull. She didn’t bother creating apparel for herself and her naked form glowed with power.
"Not so much fun now I can fight back is it?" The fiery claw tightened drawing forth another cry of pain from Wolverine. "Is it?!" she demanded.
"Aaaaaagh! No!" He struggled vainly against the intangible force which held him. It would have been the work of a moment’s thought to burn him down to his adamantium skeleton but Phoenix’ blood was up and she had other needs. Telekinetic force moved Logan, still struggling, back to where he had recently held Phoenix herself. She spun him around so that he lay in the air, facing upwards, at about waist height and stood over him. He looked up at her beautiful, terrible visage and saw nothing human in her face, only the unbridled power of a force as old as the universe. "No, Jean…. aaaaaagggggggghhhhhhhh!!" As he tried to speak pain washed over him and Phoenix smiled at his scream. She ran her fingers along his chest drawing lines of fire where they touched him until she reached his prick which she encircled gently. Images of erotic violence filled Wolverine’s mind and against his will he stiffened in her hand. Phoenix roughly probed his memory, without the care that Jean Grey would have used in the unlikely event of invading this private territory she violated his most secret places drawing to the surface his most buried imaginings and most treasured memories. He cried out again at this psychic rape and Phoenix smiled sadistically at the pain she inflicted and at the images she conjured, images of rape and pain, of secret lust and unrestrained passion. Logan’s prick jerked in her hand spraying his semen over her long fingers and his orgasm combined with his anger at her control over him in a shout of rage and release.
"You’ve thought and done some very tasty things little man," she stated, licking his seed from her hand. "I think we are going to get along a lot better from now on." With a look of mild concentration she gestured slightly and Wolverine’s back began to arch, increasing the force she bent him like a bow, his pelvis at the top, his chest and legs stretching back beneath him. Her hand never left his cock and even after two climaxes in such short succession a combination of his mutant healing power and the sado-erotic images flooding his mind kept him rigid and hard as the adamantium bones that Phoenix’ telekinetic powers were putting under such strain. Adamantium is unbreakable and even the Phoenix force couldn’t snap Logan’s spine, though to him it felt close, his body stretched almost into a hoop with his rampant prick pointing upwards like a spire. "Are you feeling helpless? Scared? You should be." Wings of fire lifted Phoenix into the air and she hovered above her team mate, the very image of the goddess of lust, before plunging down onto his hungry weapon. She straddled his hips, her thighs exerting a force on his unbreakable pelvis which would have crushed a tank, her cunt squeezing his cock with the strength of a vice. "It’s so good to have a partner who isn’t fragile," she laughed, tangling her fingers in the hair of Logan’s chest as she lifted herself up and impaled herself again on his weapon. As her assault on his body progressed she continued her assault on his mind, mixing time and space, fantasy and reality till he couldn’t separate truth from fiction, then from now, and the only thing that was real was the warm and powerful body enveloping his prick. Phoenix rode her steed to a spectacular climax, she flared all the colours of the spectrum triggering the room’s heat sensors and the sprinkler system which rained water down upon them, water that turned instantly to steam when it struck the force bubble that surrounded them both. Wolverine’s climax followed an instant later, more intense than either of his previous two, spurting his seed into her womb triggering another mini-climax in her.
Phoenix leaned forwards, wrapping her body around Logan’s immobile form, kissing him gently, teasing her tongue between his lips, forcing it between his teeth. <There now, wasn’t that fun?> She began to move on him again, giving him no respite, jolting his libido so he was forced to remain hard, his healing powers continuing to generate the sperm necessary so that his agony and ecstasy could be continued indefinitely. <It was fun for me anyway. And nothing else much matters does it?> Prevented from replying by her mouth over his Logan cried out his despair silently, listened to only by his tormentress who fed off his pain and passion delightedly.
Where her first use of him had been fire and passion and pain this time she was subtle and deadly. She moved only slightly but with such precision she dragged him to the edge of orgasm again and again, squeezing gently and with control of her muscles no normal woman could have attained, her nether lips almost fingers in their manipulation of Wolverine’s iron hard rod. Logan was kept at the highest peak of sexual tension without allowing him to cross over to release while Phoenix slid telepathic tendrils into the darkest recesses of his imagination, seeking out images of degradation and humiliation and filling his mind with them. All the while she moved on him, a gleeful grin spread across her face and the horrible orange glow burning in her eyes, the Phoenix force fed off the indomitable spirit of Wolverine and quivered and trembled with orgasm after orgasm. At last she allowed Logan to climax himself and he shuddered and groaned as again he filled Phoenix with his cum, slimy tendrils clinging to her as she pulled herself off him. Hanging in the air above him, her perfect breasts slick with sweat, glowing with sexual satisfaction Phoenix possessed Wolverine body and soul, devouring him with her mind and still she was not done. He groaned as he felt himself harden again, little more than a puppet to her telepathic and telekinetic commands.
With half a thought she allowed Logan’s body to straighten and right itself while at the same time getting down on all fours. She looked back over her shoulder while leaning forwards with her forearms pressed against the floor and her ass raised wantonly. "Well, come on then boy. Fuck me from behind!" Helplessly Logan was carried by her psychic grip, his rock hard prick aimed direct at her cunt, his body following as his thick member was driven into her like a nail hammered into plywood. "Nnnnnnnnnng!" The force of her own power drove Jean forwards, her tits sliding across the floor, then she yanked Wolverine backwards withdrawing him completely from her before slamming him into her again. "Nnnnnnng! Yessss! Like that lover boy, hard as you can." Her words mocked him, he had no control, he was simply the world’s biggest dildo, and so he was used. Held in a claw of golden fire he was pushed in and out of the woman he had lusted after so long, she squeezed his prick between her lips sighing with ecstasy as she slid him out, crying with passion as she forced him in. Her multiple orgasms washed through him as well as her due to the telepathic link she held him in. "Oh Logan!" she mocked him. "You’re so good. You’re so hard! Oh fuck me big boy, really give it me, don’t hold back, like that, just like that. Oh god, I’m cumming. Yesssssssssssss!" At last she could not hold his climax from him any longer and he groaned as he came yet again, the first spurt emptying deep inside her and then the rest splashing over her haunches as she held him immobile in the air above her.
Logan fell into blessed unconsciousness and Phoenix stood above him glowing with pride and pleasure. "Oh my sweet," she said, "we’ve many a mile to go before we sleep." The Phoenix force brushed his face and began to bring him back to consciousness, began to harden his prick again, when she heard her own voice over the mansion’s communication system. "All X-Men, assemble in the Danger Room. Be aware the mansion is under attack and what you see may not be real." This she ignored, she had more interesting things to do with a spirit as primal and passionate as her own. "Phoenix, Magick, meet Cyclops and Storm in the Professor’s study immediately." The sound of her own name, and that of Cyclops, stopped her. Cyclops. Scott Summers. The man she truly loved. Wolverine dropped to the floor like a broken toy, ignored, as Phoenix flew from the room intent on another.
Colossus
Pyotr Rasputin, the mutant Colossus, lay quietly in his room reading the poetry of Anna Akhmatova in the original Russian. She, like him, had lived in the Communist era, and her words mirrored the beautiful simplicity of the Communist system while echoing the tragedy of the reality of the tyranny that she had lived and died under. Although Professor X’s library was extremely extensive it lacked much in languages other than English and Pyotr had ordered the volume especially via a useful website. Like so many American inventions the internet had far outgrown its original concept. He smiled, he too had outgrown his origins. He was no longer the farm boy, no different from any other the world over, he was Colossus and at heart a warrior. He had saved the world, if not the universe. He had travelled the stars and watched friends die, even killed. And yet the words of this dead poet made him weep.
Pyotr’s computer terminal played the first few bars of "The Red Flag", a joke to annoy Kitty, indicating an incoming message and he turned to the machine. Although a competent mechanic Colossus distrusted computers and most of his friends knew to telephone him rather than use the e-mail.
Colossus was initially puzzled by the images displayed on his monitor and when he made sense of them was deeply shocked. His first thought was that Kitty was playing some sort of joke on him. Kitty, Shadowcat, had been trying to seduce him for several years and earlier this year she had taken to sending him images of hugely endowed men having intercourse with slender girls. Pyotr imagined she had probably downloaded them from some web site, but she had also found a way of adding his features and hers to the people involved. Computers, apparently, could do just about anything. He had to admit he was tempted by the offer, he liked Kitty, possibly even loved her, and she had made it abundantly clear that she would do whatever he wanted of her. Everything except wait until she was twenty-one which was the age of consent in the old Soviet Union. Colossus knew that here in America the law was different, that girls younger than Kitty were mothers, mistresses, prostitutes, but to him it was still wrong. She was just a girl, even though she had also saved the world, almost died on several occasions, saved his life and that of the other X-men many times. She had stopped sending the pictures when he had threatened to copy them to Professor X, moved on to erotic poems, gifts of her underwear, double entendres, her imagination seemed unlimited. This latest effort was video footage showing a large man and a blond girl and rather than intercourse he appeared to be delivering a heavy spanking. Once again the man wore Pyotr’s features, and the girl…was his younger sister Ilyana.
Kitty had gone too far this time, this was in too poor taste. Ilyana had aged seven years in a short moment of Colossus’ time* and had changed from the little girl to a disturbed teenager and even in the years since which had seen her grow to a young woman she had never related what had happened in the lost time. He was about to turn it off and go to Kitty’s room to let her know that this was not the least bit funny, maybe even give her a spanking, when the scene shifted apparently a few minutes into the future. ‘Ilyana’ now writhed on ‘Pyotr’s’ knee in a parody of sexual ecstasy. Another shift and ‘Pyotr’ was beating the blond girl with a whip of some sort. Despite himself Colossus peered closer at the pictures and saw that the transfer of his features and his sister’s was nigh perfect. Saw that the setting was an exact copy of Ilyana’s room. Saw also that the video was accompanied by an e-mail. His eyes locked on the torment of his ‘sister’ he opened the e-mail which read simply "Help me Pyotr." The realisation that this was real dawned on him as he heard his own voice, speaking Russian, emerge from the computer’s speakers.
"Well my sweet, if pain won’t break you, lets see if anything else I have will do."
The video showed Colossus pick Ilyana up by the nape of the neck and half carry, half drag her till she was leaning with her face and breasts pressed against the wall. His other hand parted Magick’s legs and obscenely probed between them. The real Colossus could just hear Ilyana murmur a protest which turned into a moan as a long index finger was thrust between her lips.
"Not a virgin?! What would our mother say?" Colossus couldn’t tear himself away, not believing what he was seeing, what he was hearing, appalled and ashamedly excited. He had known Ilyana had taken to American culture more quickly than himself, had been caught drinking on more than one occasion, had bought clothes that made her look a whore but he couldn’t accept she had allowed someone to take her virginity. "Well, if you’re not a virgin then there’s no reason for me to hold back." Some part of him, enraged that she should have so betrayed the family, understood the logic of that as he watched his doppelganger let the briefs of his uniform fall and reveal a gigantic prick which he stroked between Ilyana’s mismatched buttocks. Ilyana hissed with pain as it pressed against her tenderised ass and then cried out in alarm.
"No! Pyotr! You can’t…no…you’re not…!" Unable to stop what he was seeing Colossus’ face contorted with anger as he watched his double take a firm grip of the blond mutant’s hips before driving the huge weapon deep into her cunt in one smooth and forceful stroke.
"EEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!" His sister’s cry of pain and sorrow tore at his heart and he could watch no more. With one blow of his arm he swept the monitor from his desk, smashing it to pieces against the wall before turning and storming from the room, the door shattering as he forced his way through it, not even stopping to open it. Ilyana’s room was on another floor and at the other end of the mansion but Pyotr could cover the distance in only a few minutes and his anger gave him wings.
Part way there he barely heard the message from Cerebro warning him the X-Men were under attack. Too intent on rescuing his sister from his cruel double he ignored the order to meet with his team mates to combat the threat and instead he barrelled into the door to Ilyana’s room which splintered like matchsticks.
In a frozen moment he saw himself driving deep into Ilyana, his thick prick spreading her cunt widely with one arm around her waist and the other pressing her torso against the wall. He heard his sister crying in passion and despair while the false Colossus groaned with the approach of climax. The moment shattered like the door and the berserker songs of Pyotr’s Viking ancestors sang in his blood. One great hand grabbed his enemy’s arm and hurled him backwards, his prick pulling free of the blond girl with an audible slurp, Ilyana moaning almost in disappointment at its withdrawal. A spray of cum spurted out over her ass as the doppelganger flew backwards, crashing into the wall above the bed and groaning as his climax fountained out.
Colossus advanced, disgusted at the sight of himself ejaculating and not realising that like his bare-clad warrior ancestors he was going into battle with a huge erection. Then he stopped dead as the form of his enemy shifted and ran like fluid, shrinking and changing colour till in less than a second instead of himself lying there it was the mutant shape changer Mystique. Her blue skin and golden eyes reminded him of his friend Nightcrawler though she looked less inhuman, shapely legs revealed by the white loincloth, firm breasts pressing against the tight white top of her costume, so tight he could see the nipples poking through.
"Why Pyotr," she laughed. "Did you know your sister was such a great fuck?"
Colossus roared with rage and leapt forwards, his bulk not impeding his agility and though Mystique tried to dive away his hand caught her red hair and brought her painfully to a halt. Moving faster than his conscious mind could order his other hand slapped away the gun which she had conjured from some hidden source before his clenched fist drove into her stomach. All the air escaped from her lungs and she hung limply for a moment before striking out with a sudden karate blow to the Russian’s neck. Unfortunately for Mystique Colossus knew better than to underestimate a foe as dangerous as she was and he tightened his grip on her hair and slammed her head against the wall, pushing her further from him so that the blow, while painful, did not disable him. Barely conscious Mystique fell to the bed and Colossus held her down with one huge hand over her face while the other grabbed the belt of skulls around her slender waist and tore it and the long loincloth away from her helpless form. Deprived of her weapons and physically no match for the giant Russian Mystique was completely at his mercy, and with his blood up and the violation of his sister to avenge there was no mercy in him. Mystique’s remaining garment was a flimsy white leotard which was the work of only a moment for Colossus to destroy and her naked indigo form lay exposed to his wrath.
"You bitch!" he roared. "Wrecker! Deviationist! Kulak!" The language of abuse available to him knew nothing worse than the terms of condemnation reserved for the enemies of the Soviet Union but harder than his words was his hand the back of which slammed down against the side of Mystique’s face before sweeping down across her dark breasts setting them shaking with the force of his blow.
"Accccccccch!" Mystique spat, grimacing as Colossus clenched a fist painfully around her right tit. "Admit it. You enjoyed watching me nail your sis’. You just wish it was really you."
"Rrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagggghhhhhh!" The tiny fraction of this that was true raised Pyotr’s fury to new heights and he lost the power of coherent speech. With the Impulse field stroking his darker side it was the most natural act in the world to tear his own costume open as he had done his victim’s and grab her shapely thighs, forcing them apart and revealing the red-brown bush between them.
(* Uncanny X-Men Issue 160 – lovely Lou)
White Queen
"Whewwww, look at Grey go, I guess you win after all." Emma Frost watched her erstwhile companion as Queen of the Hellfire Club* ride Wolverine to climax on the mansion’s state of the art security system. Her gloved hand pressed against her silk panties which were already sodden with her arousal.
"That’s my girl Jean. Told you she’d overcome the psychopath." Mastermind grinned at her. "What forfeit was it we agreed on?" Emma raised her eyes to the heavens.
"As if I could forget." She stepped very close to her English ally and let her thigh brush the erection already pressing against his breeches. "I knew you were right you know, Wolvie may be lethal but he’s no real match for the Black Queen." She again unbuttoned Jason’s trousers with one hand while brushing her gloved fingers against his handsome face. Even though she knew the shape he wore was illusionary it was still a very handsome one and the cock she was exposing was pleasantly real. She paused; at least she assumed it was. She didn’t think even Mastermind could create such a perfect illusion of the feeling of a mighty and skilful dick. As she gently nipped and kissed Jason’s neck while squeezing and stroking his prick she thought briefly of Sebastian Shaw. He was ‘fund raising’ in Europe and though he knew of the Impulse Programme she was fairly sure he wasn’t aware of her liaison with Mastermind which went along with it. She wondered idly about telling him, shuddering at the thought. The beating she could see Ilyana Rasputin getting on screen three would pale into insignificance compared with what Sebastian would do to her, and Jason would be lucky to remain attached to one of his limbs. She briefly projected the thought of Shaw pulling Masterminds arms and legs off to him and felt his prick go soft in her hand.
"You wouldn’t!" He sounded really scared.
"No," she laughed, reassuring him not one iota. Still, it was a matter of a few seconds to restore the lead to his pencil and she glanced at the screens, saw Raven ending her punishment of Magick, saw Phoenix using Wolverine as a dildo and Scott and Ororo still trying to work out what was going on. She gracefully lowered herself to her knees and blew gently on Mastermind’s erection.
"Christ, look at those peaks!" For a moment she thought he was talking about Jean Grey’s, admittedly magnificent, breasts. "Phoenix is increasing the strength of the Impulse Field exponentially. I have a feeling that…oh god!" Emma chose this moment to encompass the end of his prick in her mouth, closing her lips around the engorged head and teasing his eye with the tip of her tongue.
<What are you feeling?> she spoke to his mind. She crept her mouth down, pulling him into her a fraction at a time keeping up the dextrous ministrations of her tongue on the head of his shaft.
"That…that…,"
"Emma," Mystique’s voice came over the communication system, "I think it’s about time the real Colossus found out what was going on."
<Are you sure you want to go through with it?> replied the telepath, using her mutant abilities to speak with her mouth full.
"Yes. Send him the edited highlights, and then switch to live feed." Mastermind keyed the pre-programmed function to connect the cameras in Ilyana’s room with the computer in Pyotr’s.
<Brave woman. With the Impulse Field this strong Colossus will nail her but good. Now what were you saying?> Her head rose and fell on his prick, a hand firmly but gently holding his balls and the thumb and forefinger of her other hand circling the base of his shaft.
"Ohhhhhhhh, that…that…Sebastian is one hell of a lucky man." He brought one hand down onto the platinum blonde hair of his companion and pressed her further down onto his rod. Emma felt the hard velvet head pressing against the back of her throat.
<Luck has nothing to do with it.> A look of rapt concentration crossed her face as she forced herself to relax allowing Wyngard’s prick past the gag reflex and into her throat. Breathing through her nose she continued to slide her face up and down his shaft, letting him deeper into her a tiny increment each time. For Mastermind it was a divine torment as his cock was tightly squeezed by her throat muscles and he almost failed to listen in on Scott and Ororo’s discussion as they stopped their fascination with the illusionary rape of Katherine Pryde and began to try to solve the problem that faced them.
"Attention all students. Attention all students. This is an emergency situation. All students return to you own room immediately. Do not delay for anything. Return to your room alone. Once there, lock yourself in. The doors will not unlock until the crisis is over. You are safe in your room. Do not try to leave. You will be informed when the mansion is safe again."
"Oh Christ…oh Emmmm…they’re onto us." The White Queen closed her eyes, keeping her concentration on preventing her body rebelling at the foreign object she was pushing unnaturally into herself.
<Well, we didn’t really want to get the kids involved in this. Much better if they isolate themselves in their rooms. They can wank themselves stupid there without coming to any serious harm.>
"Tr…true…oh god…stop…I…"
"All X-Men, assemble in the Danger Room. Be aware the mansion is under attack and what you see may not be real."
<That’s a bit too close for comfort, the Impulse Field needs a bit more time to grow.> Emma’s finely chiselled features were slightly distorted by the effort of continuing to deep throat her companion and her mental voice shook slightly, her icy composure melting slightly.
"I know…oh mmmm…sssss…I…." Mastermind tried and failed to get a grip on himself, his fingers tightening on the White Queen’s head, pushing her harder down onto his rigid member.
"Phoenix, Magick, meet Cyclops and Storm in the Professor’s study immediately." <Well, that won’t help. But when they don’t turn up they might go looking. You’d better stop them.>
"H…how? Ohmigodd…."
"Use your imagination." Emma’s reading of Jason’s mind indicated that he was at the crisis point and she finally drew herself off his prick, tightly clamping her fist around his shaft so that no matter what he couldn’t actually cum.
"Aaaaaaaaa. Emmmmmmmm! Pleeeeeezzzzzzzzzzz!" Emma smiled at the agony of Masterminds ecstasy and suddenly released him. With a cry of passion his prick spurted a huge gob of sticky white fluid into Emma’s face, another burst forth splattering into her hair then more sprayed over her delicate features.
"Now you’d really better stop them." The White Queen stood, making no effort to wipe the slime from her face and scanned the various screens and sensors. She whistled appreciatively. "I see what you mean about the peaks. Phoenix has taken this off the scale." She slapped her hand cruelly against Impulse’ ass. The bound mutant barely registered the act, twisting and writhing as she was under the psychic lash of Dark Phoenix’ unbridled lusts. "If it gets any stronger our shields might not hold." Her hand crept back to her crotch at the thought and she probed for her clit through the silk of her panties.
"Shut up!" Mastermind snapped, and he backhanded the blond telepath viciously. Emma’s head snapped sideways and she felt a thrill run through her.
"Maybe they’re already failing." Still, she stepped back and allowed Jason the concentration to deal with the threat of the X-Men’s leaders turning the tide. Instead she ran her fingers up Impulse’s thighs, gently stroked her lips where they stretched around the shaft of the cybernetic prick embedded in her. This the younger mutant felt, moaning through the similarly endowed gag, and the Impulse field peaked slightly again.
(* Uncanny X-Men Issue 132 – I so envy her ball gown, Lou)