1 comments/ 41887 views/ 8 favorites xXx-Men:Man Mutant Cyborg 24/7 Ch. 01 By: X Writer Warning: The following story contains a little bit of just about every possible sort of sex one can have, and in some cases, some sorts of sex that are impossible for us non-powered humans, no matter how hard we wish we could. Enjoy, and if you find parts of this offensive, well, just remember, it's only a story! I can only hope that if you weren’t a fan of the X-Men before, perhaps, through my writing, you can share and appreciate the fondness for these characters I have had since 1978. As always, your feedback is readily welcome! --------------------------------------------- In the world of Marvel's merry mutants, where strange powers meet strange desires, one team stands as mutant kind’s last and best hope for a kinky co-existence with humanity... X Writer proudly presents: The New xXx-Men! --------------------------------------------- Chapter One: Fifty Seven Channels and Nothing On, The Xavier Institute, Westchester County, Upstate New York. 12:23am It was late at night at the Xavier Institute, dark hallways quiet in the calm of the witching hour. Deep underground, Bobby Drake sat in the comfortable chair of the Monitor Room. It was from here that the uncanny mutants known as the xXx-Men kept track of all the current happenings in the world, as well as the emergence of new mutants triggering their xXx-Gene for the first time. Once an xXx-Gene had been detected, the Xavier Institute would send out a small team to contact the individual they had sensed, to invite them to return to the xXx-Mansion, for training in how to best control their powers. So far tonight, it had been promising to be a long boring shift for the young college student. No insanely powerful maniacs appearing and threatening the universe… not even a bizarre blip from Cerebra indicating an unknown mutant. The hero known as Iceman sighed while rolling his eyes towards the clock on the wall. The watch went from eleven p.m. to seven a.m. Why the Professor scheduled one of the self-proclaimed most eligible bachelors in mutant kind for the overnight shift on a Friday night was beyond him. So, he mused as his eyes scanned across the sea of talking heads on the screens, the world seemed safe for the moment. Bobby casually reached out to the controls and brought the mansion’s security up on the main screen. The holographic map of the Institute’s grounds flooded the room in a large cascade of images, as each camera within the compound filled the corresponding region it covered with what it saw. The result was a mosaic cut in the shape of the entire Xavier Estate, dissected by the many different levels of the compound. Most of the areas were dark, with the exception of the private quarters, the gym, the television room, an office and the aptly named Danger Room. Yes, a little voyeuristic tour of the facilities was just what the doldrums had ordered. Bobby leaned forward and tapped the little plastic camera toggle, bringing the television room up to the main screen. The room was barely lit, the neon glow of the large projection screen television monitor painting the large couch that the camera was fixed upon with a kaleidoscope of swirling colors. The Iceman peered intently at the screen, his youthful collegiate mind differentiating the shadowy figures obscured by a large throw blanket being used by whoever was in the room. He could tell that there was more than one mutant watching television, but how many and who they were he was having a hard time discerning. The motion on the couch seemed restricted beneath the concealing veil of the blanket, but enough evidence was clear. Whoever was under the blanket was getting touchy-feely with whoever else was under the blanket, and was doing it without the apparent knowledge of the other couple watching the television in the room seated on the other couch. Although that might have been interesting to watch, the fact that the people involved were unknown, and the fact that they were concealed from his prying eyes under the cover of both darkness and a wool blanket gave Bobby cause enough to change cameras to one of the other sections of the mansion that was still occupied. As the young horny teenager code-named Iceman switched the monitor to the Gym in frustration, a redheaded Siryn named Theresa Cassidy stifled a giggle from under the cover of a throw blanket. James Proudstar, a.k.a. Warpath, looked over at the grinning Irish lass sharing the couch with him, and couldn’t help but smile as well. Across from them, Piotr Rasputin and Kitty Pride sat tightly bundled in a blanket of their own. Before the two couples, the massive flat plasma screen of the television played a rerun of “xXx-Files”. “I love this episode,” Kitty said softly, “Mulder helps an old friend who turns out to be a mutant wanted by the aliens. Of course, Scully doesn’t believe him.” “Da, Katya,” Piotr answered, his large frame snuggling closer to the lithe teenager curled against him, “That Agent Scully is smart and sexy, but she’s not very observant.” “Most folks aren’t.” the genius computer whiz winked, nodding to the couple across from them, as her hand phased out of synch with the solid physical world. Sliding through the quilted blanket, literally, her slender pale fingers felt for the soft electromagnetic barrier that would tell her when she came into contact with the Russian’s strong flesh, it’s fuzzy feeling slightly different than the sweatpants about it. Her hand caressed across the strong muscular leg, a ghost to the clothing between them, passing through it as if it didn’t exist. Piotr Rasputin coughed in surprise at the unexpected touch, but then again, this was not the first time that Kitty had done something of this nature. Her idea of heavy petting while fully clothed worked nicely for the “Young Jewish Princess”, allowing her to save herself for her wedding day, while allowing her to play and tease to her heart’s content. She was well known for being the shark in the swimming pool you avoided losing awareness of. Douglas Ramsey had been many times the victim of her phasing attacks, her hand merely grabbing his swimming trunks or Dockers just enough to make them immaterial like herself. Cypher often found he simply walked out of his clothing at the most unexpected times. Kitty’s young mutant teenaged crush was displayed mercilessly upon the poor boy. Shy, but refusing to show it, or openly breaking her first true love loyalty to Piotr, Kitty’s frustrated teasing affections with Douglas merely ended up tormenting the genius mutant. He felt the same attraction to her, trapped in the feelings of inadequacy when stacked against the gentle giant poet warrior Colossus. No wonder he decided to make a pass at the much more outspoken blonde bombshell sister of Piotr, Illyana Rasputin, nicknamed Magik. She was rumored to have deserved that name for her very bewitching ways. It was actually Illyana that ended up suggesting the various ways Kitty could use her power to have fun with the many pretty boys that waltzed around the mansion on a regular basis without being technically disloyal to the sweet boyfriend. She used one such technique now. Mentally focusing her hand to phase, she passed it through the flesh of his cock. Minutely changing her density, she felt the slight magnetic drag as she passed through up and down his shaft, tugging upon his penis from the inside out. Piotr exhaled a deep breath as she quietly stroked him to erection. It was weird, having your penis being moved around in your pants with only the loose soft silky feel of the sweatpants being felt. Pulling more and more blood into the organ, she smiled to herself as the television switched to a commercial break. The downside to this particular technique was that when she was done, her hand was left throbbing. The upside, however, was that whomever she stroked this way was left throbbing as well. “K-K-Katya,” Colossus blushed, squirming slightly on the couch, Kitty’s hand pulling on his quickly hardening member, pressing it into the growing tent in his pants. She shushed him, her face turning away to face the television monitor again, the muted colors softly lighting her features in the dim light. Piotr nervously glanced over at James and Theresa bundled up upon the opposing couch across the large chamber, seemingly blissfully unaware of what was happening to him. In truth, it appeared that the red headed Theresa had plans of her own with her young Indian brave named James, her head slowly sinking lower and lower, disappearing below the edge of the blanket. James Proudstar stared blankly at the television screen, it’s commercial risk free money back guarantee apparently capturing his undivided attention. Siryn paused a moment, her emerald eyes glittering in the dim light, silently staring back at the nervous artistic Russian. Her eyelids seemed heavy, blushingly hooded with a steamy and sultry look. A mischievous and overtly flirting smirk pursed her moist and pale pink lips, the sharp edge of her tongue sliding across playfully. Piotr raised his eyebrows in surprise as she winked, and her face slid out of view. The fiery Irish lass was extremely appealing, curves in all the right places, the pale luminescent sheen of skin typical of those stormy northern European isles, but never had she ever made any sort of overt intentional gestures such as this. Colossus shifted his gaze to James Proudstar’s face again, looking to see if he noticed anything. No change. Bearing a poker face worthy of the infamous Arcade, a sadistic assassin for hire, the Indian showed no expression. Now the young mutant had to consider if she had been only teasing him, or if she was sending him a signal of her interest. His imagination of what those soft lips might feel like wrapped around his cock began to flood his overactive mind. Siryn was shades of a Nicole Kidman in vision, pale skin, light splay of freckles, only softer…less angular. Truly, an erotic sight worthy of seeing, even more so of experiencing, if the young Russian could manage it. For now, though, it was good enough simply to quietly ponder. Kitty’s unique version of a hand job had the Russian hard as iron. Stroking and milking the sexual steel rod between his legs, she began to feel the only bad side effect that this particular effect had on her. Her hand began to throb. Of course, it was a mild inconvenience considering the benefits…that of leaving the male member she was servicing throbbing as well. Out of the corner of her eyes, Kitty could see Piotr’s eyes lower to a half-hooded state, no longer seeing the television, but off in some dreamy state of contentment. “I love you, Piotr,” Kitty whispered in the darkened room, nestling closer to her beloved beau. “Boishe moi, Katya,” Piotr whispered back, “That feels so incredible.” The young mutant girl smiled in response with a nod of her head, pleased that he was enjoying her ministrations. Piotr glanced over at Kitty once more, her eyes still locked upon the television screen. Seeing that she wasn’t looking, Piotr stole another glance slyly towards James and Theresa. Like some dusty exhibit at a wax museum, the Indian teen mutant still stared, motionless, at the television screen. The quilt wrapped around him and the Irish lass showed definite signs of movement, however. Upon occasion, coppery curls of fine hair peeked out from behind the patchwork shield, only to bob back into the depths hidden from Piotr’s voyeuristic exercise of fantasy. Suddenly Piotr found himself face to face with the lovely Siryn once again, as she patted James Proudstar on the arm, gave him a peck on the cheek, and then leaned over to grab a glass filled with some dark drink she had poured for herself hours ago from the coffee table. She moved slow and gracefully, like some large predatory cat on the grassy savannah, lush in her beauty, and fully cognizant of her surroundings. As she lifted and tipped up the end of the glass to her supple pink lips and drank, a small trickle of the dark liquid, contrasting sharply with the pale flesh of her neck, slid downward, downward, downward. Piotr simply froze, like a deer in oncoming headlights, for there, just before him in the twilight lighting of the room, were two picture perfect breasts with small bubblegum pink nipples standing tall and erect, teasing him from the loose confines of Theresa’s deeply cut silken nightgown. He could not help but stare at the mouthwatering luminous globes before him. Theresa set down the glass, and in seemingly casual nonchalant behavior, took a finger, as she leaned back into James, and slowly traced the path of the fluid back up, wiping it off her, and bringing Piotr’s eyes back to her own. She held out the finger before her, the drop of liquid she had acquired off her chest clinging precariously to it, slithered out her long pink tongue and sucked the slender finger clean with a smile and a wink. Kitty caught Piotr out of the corner of her eye staring over at Theresa’s brazen display. Here she had been thinking that Piotr was enjoying her talented gift to him, but he was using it to fantasize and flirt with Siryn! She roughly yanked her hand free, the pulse of magnetic drag stroking Piotr hard one last time. With Siryn’s finger suck display and Kitty’s rough stroke, Piotr suddenly found himself coming uncontrollably hard in his own sweatpants, gasping in surprise. “I’m going to bed,” Kitty icily announced pushing herself up off the couch, her entire form suddenly becoming immaterial, as she drifted upwards like some ghostly astronaut in zero gravity. Kitty left the stunned Piotr staring up at the panty less slender teen legs disappearing through the ceiling above, his mouth agape. “K-Katya…?” Piotr stuttered questioningly. “Good night, Kitty,” Theresa chimed cheerily. “I wonder why Kitty dashed off to bed so quickly…?” James Proudstar finally spoke up, looking over at the confused Colossus, dropping his arm around his girlfriend. “I…I don’t know…” Piotr shook his head. Kitty hadn’t seen him staring at Siryn’s display, had she? “I…I should go check on her.” Colossus rose from his seat, tossing the comforter he had been wrapped in to rest upon the back of the couch. “Hey big guy, looks like you spilled something,” James smiled and pointed towards Piotr’s lower half. The crotch of Colossus had a big wet spot on it. “I hope it doesn’t stain,” Theresa smiled, with a wink. “Uh…” Piotr stammered, “I hope not, either. Spaceba, tovarisch. Good night.” He grabbed a few napkins from the small little holder next to the coaster rack on the end table, wiping the front of his sweats as he excused himself quickly out of the room. As soon as Colossus stepped from the room, James Proudstar turned to face Theresa Cassidy. “Someone was being a naughty girl.” His large strong hand slipped down her back, sneaking under the lip of her silky nightgown. A lone finger slid into the exposed butt crack, slithering it’s way past her asshole and lodging itself into her sopping wet pussy. “Someone seems to have gotten quiet excited about it, too.” Theresa grunted softly as she felt the digit enter her. “Judging by the size of your hard on, Mister Proudstar,” she replied, throwing the quilt back and revealing the mutant’s large dick standing tall and sticking out of his shorts, “the ‘girl with the golden throat’ isn’t the only one that is horny as hell, either.” “I will not deny it, Miss Cassidy. I will not deny it.” Warpath chuckled, wiggling his trapped finger inside her. “Care to pick up where we left off?” “I’d thought you’d never ask,” Theresa giggled, licking her lips again, and moaning slightly as James manipulated his finger around within her, making her squirm on the couch as she lowered her mouth down upon the massive mutant prick. The “girl with the golden throat”. It started as an offhand comment made by her father, Sean Cassidy, also known around the world as the Interpol agent codenamed Banshee, as a means of making the young lass feel better about her being a mutant. Gifted with the same powerful ability to produce sounds outside the normal range of the human voice with her larynx that her father could, she could not only produce tones of perfect pitch, but even more so, create potent ultrasonic and hypersonic frequencies that could subdue people and using the force of the sonic waves, allowed her to fly. She had been practicing her abilities long enough to know how to exploit her gifts in many rather unusual ways. One of those managed to get her dad’s expression from the old home movies to come back and haunt her, when her xXx-Force teammates discovered it. “The girl with the golden throat.” Learning how to create a resonance feedback just by humming, she found she could manipulate positive reactions from the folks she used it upon. Simply put, Siryn was a master cocksucker extraordinaire, bar none. Having wetted her lips with the caramel colored soft drink during her teasing and flirting with Piotr, Theresa was primed and ready to continue with her servicing of Warpath. She reached her slender hand around the Indian’s rock hard cock, barely able to circumvent it’s girth, its angry purple mushroom head staring back at her, beckoning her. She stroked the stiff shaft firmly, pulling the sheath of skin along the taut organ, pumping the engorged prick even larger. Blowing softly across the cock head, Siryn snaked out her soft pink tongue and licked across the length of the slit, sending shivers down James’ spine. Like a young child savoring a lollypop, the Irish lass popped the prick into her mouth, sucking on the enormous bulbous head, her saliva dribbling down the length of the thick shaft. She felt James fidget beneath her, his ass wriggling around the cushion, making the finger he had buried in her sopping pussy squirm. She relaxed her jaw, slowly sliding down the slick pole, taking in inch after inch, until she felt it nudge the back of her throat. It stretched her petite-lipped mouth around its enormous girth, as she felt the large head pop into her throat. Instinctively, she swallowed, milking the mushroom shaped dickhead deeper into her throat. She fought the gag reflex to choke, since her body abruptly realized that it couldn’t actually swallow the meaty object lodged in her throat. Instead, she gave in to the urge to try swallowing the penis again. Repeating the gulping action over and over, Theresa’s throat massaged and milked and squeezed at James’ iron hard cock. The Indian youth grunted sharply, the feeling that was washing over his prick was beyond belief. Had this been the extent of Siryn’s oral talents, any red-blooded male would have been extremely pleased and happy with the performance. However, Theresa had a trick up her sleeve. She began to hum, but with her superhuman vocal chords, and the fact that spongy blood engorged penile chambers conduct sound extremely well; she was able to oscillate her tone into a cascading resonance sonic wavelength. Not only was the Irish lass slurping at his dick, but now she was stroking it with sound, the vibrations giving James rather peculiar feelings that his cock was being massaged from the inside out by powerful tiny fingers, milking it even more than before. James began to pant and squirm, his crotch buzzing electrically. Shoving another thick finger into Theresa’s sopping snatch was the only proper response to this sexual assault upon his pulsating penis. He rubbed his fingers up and down the swollen fat lips, the lack of her natural red hair on the moist slick pubis appreciatively noticed. Sinking the two large fingers into the cleft between her ass cheeks, he drove past the clenching ring of muscle that lined her pussy entrance. He felt the sucking of her hot sex upon his strong fingers, drawing them deeper in as her supple back arched upwards to meet his insistent thrusts. xXx-Men:Man Mutant Cyborg 24/7 Ch. 01 Theresa felt the increased uncontrolled thrusts of James’ crotch into her face, his sparse curly pubic hairs tickling at her petite slim nose. At this moment, she had only two frequencies going, a nice resonance. Of course, if she wanted a midnight snack, she would have to add a third. Bobbing her head on his iron hard shaft, she flexed her vocal cords to begin a third note, completing the chord. The higher frequency, buzzing like a mad mosquito, drove straight through James’ flesh, along the massive pole and into his scrotum. James grunted as if he had been punched hard in the stomach, that electric buzzing sensation having reached his throbbing nuts. His eyes rolled back in their sockets, his mind a blaze of exploding pleasure. YES! Late night protein shake! Theresa smirked as she felt James’ prick pulse in her throat. She found it near impossible to concentrate on keeping the right frequencies flowing through the restricted vocal cords with James jamming those large fingers repeatedly against her g-spot. She split the frequency by both raising and lowering the octaves, pulling her mouth nearly off his cock, only desperately sucking on his head as if it held the nectar of the gods. She jacked on his prick hard with her hand, as she watched his balls shrink up tight, a precursor of the hot flow of sperm to come. James shuddered underneath her; it felt as if his cock was exploding, his entire essence passing through the stiff ramrod into the petite young Irish lass’ lips. Theresa gulped at the copious amounts of cum that streamed into her throat, drinking down the thick sweet and salty liquid. James let out a loud groan as she milked his penis with her hand, squeezing every last drop she could from it. When he quieted and sat still, she popped her lips off the cock and looked up at her lover. One lone strand of cum stretched and broke from James’ cock, snapping back to her lips and sticking to her chin. “Thanks, baby. I was hungry.” Theresa giggled as James scooped up the wayward strand and watched as she licked the finger clean. “Damn, girl,” James laughed, “I thought you were going to suck the skin right off my cock!” His hand gently stroked the side of her pale European face to cup her cheek. “I love you, Theresa.” “I know,” Siryn winked, shaking Warpath’s quickly deflating cock at him. “You just showed me how much, baby. I love you, too. Ready to go to… bed?” Theresa winked mischievously again. James rolled his eyes. “Somehow, lass, I’m not convinced that sleeping is your goal in getting me out of this room and into the bedroom.” Warpath laughed, cupping her ass in one strong hand. “Somehow I’m convinced you would be right, James.” Siryn smiled back, wiggling her rear in his hand, “Considering that, as nice as drinking down your delicious spunk was, I’m sort of hoping to cum myself before sleeping.” “I think I may be able to accommodate you, Miss Cassidy.” James nodded. “You better…or I’ll go find Piotr and console him about his earlier problem,” Theresa grabbed a throw pillow and slapped James upside the head with it. “ ‘I hope it doesn’t stain.’ ” James mocked her, batting her back with the silken pillow. Theresa squealed, and scrambled away from him, trying to escape the retaliatory strikes. James leaped up from the couch as well, grabbing the remote and killing the widescreen monitor. The lights rose in the room like a theatre, as the monitor went black. “Race you upstairs?” “Sure!” Theresa clapped her hands twice loudly, snuffing the lights in the now completely dark room. Chirping in the ultrasonic range, Siryn knew she had the advantage now. Like a bat, she was using the power of her vocal cords to create echolocation, allowing her to run through the darkened room and avoid everything, making a beeline for the doorway. James turned and began to bolt for the door, when the lights suddenly disappeared. A step too late in the inky black, and he felt the coffee table bite deep into his shin. “OW! FUCK!” Warpath swore, nearly falling over. “That’s cheating!” James Proudstar limped behind the giggling Theresa. “Oh, baby! That sounded painful.” Theresa consoled him, “Are you hurt bad?” “Not as bad as you’re going to,” James grimaced, and huffed after her now laughing running form. xXx-Men:Man Mutant Cyborg 24/7 Ch. 02 Warning: The following story contains a little bit of just about every possible sort of sex one can have, and in some cases, some sorts of sex that are impossible for us non-powered humans, no matter how hard we wish we could. Enjoy, and if you find parts of this offensive, well, just remember, it's only a story! I can only hope that if you weren't a fan of the X-Men before, perhaps, through my writing, you can share and appreciate the fondness for these characters I have had since 1978. As always, your feedback is readily welcome! --------------------------------------------------------------- In the world of Marvel's merry mutants, where strange powers meet strange desires, one team stands as mutant kind's last and best hope for a kinky co-existence with humanity... X Writer proudly presents: The New xXx-Men! --------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Two: In the Heat of the Night The Xavier Institute, Westchester County, Upstate New York. 1:13am Bobby Drake noticed that the television room had just grown dark. Well, I guess whoever was in there is done for the night. The young would-be voyeur glanced back over at the other screens lit before him. Ororo Monroe, a.k.a. Storm, was still taking a midnight swim in the gymnasium compound. Iceman had been watching her make laps for a while now, her sleek creamy chocolate form sluicing through the crystal blue waters smoothly. Ororo never believed in using a swimsuit. Heck, Ororo never believed in clothes, for that matter. Of all the xXx-women on the campus, the Nubian weather goddess was by far the least modest. Bobby would have even gone as far as to label her an affirmed exhibitionist. Nude was her au natural state of being. Of course, if every woman was endowed with as fantastic a body as Storm had, the fashion industry would be out of business, and men worldwide would be sporting the perpetual hard-on. Bobby grabbed the controls of the security monitor and zoomed in. Ororo's tall frame, large gravity defying breasts, firm flat stomach and long muscular legs moving fluidly through the pale blue liquid was a vision of grace and beauty. Slender arms thrust firmly through the strokes, caramel breasts with licorice nipples cresting the waves, bobbing round cheeks of a phat ass that just wouldn't quit, and strong sculpted athletic legs built to wrap around your waist and never let go, each delectable part appearing and disappearing underneath the swirling waters in an unconscious act of self-exposure. Locking the camera onto the moving target, Bobby sat back, stretching his arms, interlacing his fingers, and tucked them behind his head. He kicked his feet up, to rest upon the large console, and watched the Amazonian sized woman turn in the water and push off for another lap of the Olympic sized pool. The Iceman wouldn't have minded making a play for the powerful woman, but he didn't think that she'd go for it, considering her odd tastes in men. She had a thing with Forge, and her and Bishop were unusually close. Bobby suspected that the two had, or were considering, a one time fling together. Just one of those, "It just happened" situations waiting to occur. Same gut feelings Bobby got when he saw Ororo dining with Victor Von Doom, of all people. There was a mutual attraction, unspoken, but thick in the air about those two. Iceman simply figured that he was just a little too white bread for Storm's tastes. Still, one shouldn't knock a guy about getting a case of jungle fever especially when looking at one fine specimen of Nubian womanhood such as Ororo. She was worshipped as a Goddess in Kenya, where she grew to adulthood. It was there that Charles Xavier, founder of the xXx-Men, met her, and offered her the opportunity to serve all of mankind. She took it, with no hesitations. Years later, it proved time and time again to be one of the best decisions that Charles Xavier ever made. Strong of will, merciful, even handed, she was a worthy leader when the need arose, and guided the xXx-Men to victory again and again. And now? Now, she was just simply amazing to behold. "Chill, Bobby," Iceman shook his head, "she's out of your league." Tearing his eyes away, hesitantly, he refocused on what screens were still lit on the internal security monitors. The Headmaster's Office and the Danger Room were the two only other places lit. There were no interior cameras in Xavier's office, but there were at least a dozen in the Danger Room. Bobby wondered which insomniac was running a Danger Room scenario at this late hour. Leaning forward in the chair, Iceman flipped the monitors to show the Danger Room. Instantly, the screens filled with otherworldly visions. An orange sky with violet clouds, three moons colored green, blue and yellow hovered in the sky, bizarre twisted spires stretching to the heavens, thin rocky archways bridged between tall plateaus, and large puffball fungi littering a rusty desert canyon valley. Bobby had been many places with the xXx-Men, but couldn't recall ever having been to such a place. Betsy Braddock leapt into view, her black leotard with its red sash standing out clearly against the alien background. Psylocke was another delectable babe that Bobby wouldn't have minded tagging, but once again, she had a thing for another of the xXx-Men—the high flying Archangel, one of his very best friends in the world. Bobby remembered when the British lady joined their ranks. She looked very different back then. A broad face, stiff upper lip, pale skin, she was the epitome of British breeding. Then, the goddess Roma's Siege Perilous took all of the active xXx-Men, when they faced Forge's mortal enemy, the Adversary, and dispersed them to the far corners of the world, memories wiped clean. Bobby hadn't been there, but he remembered reading the reports that the team filed, once they managed to get back together, and get their heads right. Betsy had been changed the most, out of all of them. Somehow she had been transformed into the very image of Revanche, an oriental assassin for the ninja clan known as the Hand and the latest love interest of the nefarious Mandarin. The transformation went deeper than merely surface appearance, for the sedate Miss Braddock now found herself to be an adrenaline junkie, with an insatiable appetite for extremely kinky sex. The martial arts training she had somehow been imparted with during the transformation kicked into full gear now. Whereas Ororo had fluid motion through the Olympic sized swimming pool, Psylocke now demonstrated that graceful skill upon the dry unearthly landscape. Nearly unnatural in her movement, she seemed to glide like some phantom image on Bobby's view screen. He still could not recognize the training scenario she was running, so he pulled up the program on a supplemental monitor. Limbo. Magik's realm. Betsy was running Illyana's personal training program. From the corner of her eye, Betsy saw the movement. They were small, nasty looking beasts, low to the ground and coming in fast from under the puffball fungi. How many, she could not ascertain, but one thing was certain...there were a lot of them. Reaching deep inside her, she felt her new power, her telekinesis, raw and clumsy. Even deeper still, she could feel the calling of her telepathy, but knew better than to access it. Betsy Braddock was a very rare telepath, and it was the uniqueness of her mental matrix that made her a living trap for the entity known as the Shadow King. Its original name was Farouk, an evil Egyptian that once met Charles Xavier in a psi-war that ended up killing it's body, but not before the malevolent beast could escape into another's psyche. It had been body hopping for the last forty years, until it attempted to gain control over Betsy. It tapped into her telepathy, and she in turn, shut it off, locking it away inside her very mind. Even now, she could still hear it's voice, calling to her, silently, beckoning her to unleash it's awesome power. That would never happen, she swore. She would die before allowing the monster who nearly destroyed the xXx-Men with it's perverted desires to be free again. Strangely enough, for her sacrifice in retaining the Shadow King, her mutant mental powers expanded, developing powers of telekinesis that she never knew she had. For the adrenaline junkie, this was an incredible blessing. Now, instead of forming a psychic knife that cut through the shields of even the most gifted telepaths, she manifested a telekinetic sword blade, mentally severing molecular bonds of anything that she sliced through. She unsheathed her psionic weapon now, as the creatures quickly approached. It was invisible to the naked eye. In truth, Psylocke supposed that only telepaths and telekinetics had actual awareness of the power she unleashed. To the psychically challenged, she was merely a woman in a black leotard, waving her arm around. To the more adept, however, the virtual katana glowed like a small star, hovering just off of her fingertips. She wasn't sure which category the little beasties she saw swarming in to attack her fit into, and honestly, the adrenaline junkie within her didn't care. Bring it on. Iceman watched in anticipation with mixed feelings of dread and awe filling him. He knew she had deployed her psychic weapon, not because he could sense it, but because of her particular combat stance. She was leaning into the onrushing attackers, one arm dragging behind her as a counterweight. The first demon spawn rushed out from under the fungi, it's appearance resembling that of an overgrown Rottweiler with porcupine quills adorning it, flinging them at her with deadly precision as it closed the gap. Betsy swung her telekinetic sword with ease, deflecting the poisonous darts, much to the beastie's surprise. She continued her flowing kata form, bringing the weapon up over her head, and then down upon the spitting maw, slaying the foul creature. Simplistic, nearly mindless in performance, the maneuver was second nature, coming to her as easy as breathing. Still more of the monsters emerged from the fungus foliage, their sizes ranging from a tiny house cat to a massive workhorse, some resembling humanoids, others far more bizarre. Psylocke moved with the grace of a dancer amongst them, her psychic blade weaving an intricate pattern in the air, slicing effortlessly through the various attackers. When she wasn't deploying the weapon, she merely pushed them away from her with the blunt brute force of will. Iceman was in awe. Betsy was truly a sight to behold. Even without the advantage of telepathy, Psylocke seemed to have a supernatural awareness of where the monstrosities were, striking at the creatures without even needing to turn to face them. As they continued to press their attack, Bobby noticed that now Betsy was hefting large rocks with her telekinesis to repel the demons. They were getting close now, claws nicking her, shredding at the leotard, pushing her back away from the valley of fungus, towards the high rocky ridges. She leapt from the collective hoard, landing upon a large rocky overhang, overlooking the valley. The creatures were snarling and screeching en masse before her, held at bay by one hand generating an invisible force field of telekinetic might. She was breathing hard, sweat pouring from her brow. The sheen of perspiration coated her bare flesh, soaking through the leotard. Bobby watched silently, wishing that her costume had been a thin white instead of the dark color that only opaquely hugged her skin. His jaw dropped open in surprise, as a large rock behind her shifted, unfolding itself into a very large and very familiar threat, rearing a massive arm back, ready to strike. Sym. Magik's extremely unpredictable and treacherous demonic familiar, for lack of a better term. To Illyana, his loyalty was literal and absolute, but for anyone else, certain death would be far welcomer than what the demonspawn would be inclined to do. Bobby leaped for the intercom system, toggling it on. "Betsy! Look out, behind you!" he screamed. "Bobby?" Psylocke cried in surprise, turning into the coming blow. The sound of hard demonic flesh slamming into Betsy's lean oriental figure made Bobby flinch up in the Monitor Room, watching in horror as her body sailed through the air in a loose rag doll flop over the gnashing snarling monstrosities and into the massive puffball fungus field with a large poof of spores and a sickening thud. The monster known as Sym flexed and stretched, almost casually, dark purplish wine colored skin stretched tight over the massive rippling muscles usually found on a bodybuilder. The dark pupil-less eyes gleamed with malevolent glee and the toothy maw of the demon hitched up to a crooked smile on its face. Psylocke was still sprawled out within the large noxious looking cloud of spores, barely moving. The horde of creatures, shy after Betsy's brutal taming session, slowly stepped closer to her vulnerable prone form. Bobby reached for the remote safety interlocks override, and realized that Betsy had disabled them. Again. "Shit." Iceman swore. The simulation in the Danger Room wasn't going to simply shut off now that Betsy was in peril of losing her life, as it normally would. Bobby had been craving some excitement tonight, and it appeared that Psylocke was going to provide it, although not in the pleasant relaxing manner he had been hoping for. Jumping up, Bobby Drake grabbed a mobile communications pad and ran out of the room, heading towards the Danger Room. "Psylocke! Come on Betsy, answer me!" Iceman cried into the two-way device. No response. "Shit! Storm! We have a situation in the Danger Room! I need you there, immediately!" "Bobby?" Storm stopped in mid-stroke, her svelte caramel breasts bobbing just beneath the cool waters. "What seems to be the problem?" "Betsy's in trouble, and she disengaged the safety interlocks...again!" Iceman replied, still running down the corridor. "She's running the Limbo program, and it looks like Sym is going to tear her apart!" "Goddess! I'm on my way, Bobby! I'll see you there!" "Thanks, Ororo!" the poolside intercom system piped back at her as she swam to the edge of the pool and pulled her naked form out of the pristine liquid. Summoning a small wind, she swirled it about her body, while lowering the ambient humidity, wicking the moisture from her, leaving her dry. Had the situation not been so urgent, she would have been tempted to remain there a few more moments and enjoy the caress of the windstorm. However, she did not have that luxury. Betsy felt the pounding in her head behind her temples. She was hurting, and her lungs were burning, and she could feel her leotard being shredded sloppily from her damp sweaty flesh. Something was definitely wrong here, and she couldn't focus. As she opened her eyes, the colors seemed bright and alive, almost swirling and moving by themselves. She could feel the strange tingling upon her skin, and had she been aware of the psychoactive nature of the giant puffball fungus spores, she would have understood what was happening to her. The bright orange sky with it's violet clouds looked like cotton candy to her, and her tingling skin felt alive and vibrant, with a mind of it's own. Every touch was a joyful caress to her, a symphony of sensation that made her nipples hard, and her pussy wet. "You ain't my Mistress, chickie chickie." Sym sneered, the lone horn on the top of his head glinting in the bizarre sunless lighting, as he leapt down from the bluff overhang to stand before her. "Sym isn't bound to serve you, only Magik. Since my Mistress isn't here, guess what, lovely? You are going to service Sym, and when I am done with you, you will beg to serve me forever!" Psylocke looked up at his massive muscle bound form, tight coils of steel covered by thin dark mauve skin. Her eyes, vibrating with hallucinogenic seizures, drank the most interesting visuals before her in deeply. Here was a magnificently built, but strangely ugly, man standing before her. His body was sculpted, like some phenomenal statue of Adonis, stacks of rippling muscle sans any body hair, glistening oily sheen covering his every curve, the strange orange tinted light glinting off the hard form like burnished copper. This strange man wore a black leather vest, left open in some retro seventies style, and a black leather loincloth, draped long, between his legs. He also, very strangely, seemed to have a tail, but then again, she had seen many mutants who did. It wasn't long and prehensile, with a large triangular head, like one fuzzy elf she fondly knew. This ugly man did look sort of familiar, but Betsy was far too interested in his nipples, now that they had caught her eye. They were a darker purple, contrasting with his wine tint, and came out to little conical points. She swore he said something to her, maybe it was the clouds that said it, or the strange pets of this man surrounding them, when his hand with the oddly long and pointy fingernails pulled the flowing black leather skin of the loincloth aside. He was huge. It was like a small child's arm attached between the tall mauve being's legs. At first, the thought going through Betsy's mind was that she was seeing the ugly man's tail, but she could see that swishing menacingly behind the long thick angry looking slab of cylindrical meat that stared with one eye atop a deep purple head back at her. Her body, under the influence of the spores, was torn between two emotional polar extremes. One was a hallucinogenic induced euphoric horniness; the other was an absolute fear. This being was a demon, as far from her beloved Archangel as one could get, a creature to be feared, and yet, part of her excitement was this naughtiness of being taken by this well hung monstrosity. The last of her leotard and sash was ripped from her torso by some toothy jawed beast that seemed to be little more than a giant mouth and tiny eyes set in a ball of fur about the size of a bowling ball. Some lizard-looking thing slid a long slimy tongue over her torso, caressing her nipples into hardened brown points on her golden oriental skin. Waves of pleasure rippled outwards from her breasts, and deep into her uterus. Betsy...this monster is going to fuck us like some cheap East Ender if you let it. "Who...who are you?" Betsy asked the disembodied voice that echoed in her befuddled brain, caressing her into calmness from the dark corners of her mind. "I told you that I'm Sym, sweetheart," the beast of Limbo sneered, chuckling, and waving his enormous prick at her, "What's the matter, the idea of getting fucked by me got you all distracted?" He jumped down, standing before the prone figure of Psylocke, and grabbing her ankles, lifting them into the air. I am you, Betsy. A figure shimmered into view behind Sym, one of Betsy herself. This version of Betsy, however, was wearing a black leather leotard, the Crimson Dawn tattoo glowing eerily with dull blood red light over one eye. I am you complete and whole, Betsy. Telepathy and telekinesis talents both, at their peak powers. I can stop this from happening. All you have to do is give in to the pleasure that you feel, and embrace me. Embrace your power, revel in it, and I can free us from all this. "Y-you're...th'...Sh...sh...da...King, aren'...you?" Betsy slurred, hearing very little of what Sym was saying. "That's right, baby cakes, I'm your king," Sym hissed, his massive prick straining towards her sopping wet pussy, "You're soaking wet, bitch. I think you want my cock, don't you?" The Shadow King? Betsy, I am you, complete. You are the only being in the last fifty years who has been able to contain and control that essence. The Shadow King cannot use you. In truth, the exact opposite is true. You have the power to use the Shadow King's abilities. Imagine, Betsy, what power we have, combined. Telepathy and telekinesis honed and harnessed. A psi-blade that can render asunder both molecular bonds and mental shields. We can be untouchable, if you unleash our fullest potential. The vision shimmered before Betsy's eyes, manifesting a shining silver blade of energy. What shall we name our symbol of power, Betsy? Reaver? The dark vision turned to look at Betsy with smoldering eyes. Come now, Betsy, are we going to be a victim again, like when Mojo took our eyes? Do you really want this monster to fuck us? Don't you want to be in control? Don't you want to be complete and whole, and invincible? We can control this monster if you let us. Don't you want that? xXx-Men:Man Mutant Cyborg 24/7 Ch. 02 "Yesss..." Betsy hissed between her teeth, her mind awash with the intense sensations Sym's penis was causing her, as it rubbed against her moist vagina lips. "I...want...it!" "Yeah, baby... you fucking got it," Sym laughed, stabbing the massive cock into her burning pussy, sinking it twelve inches deep in one hard thrust. Psylocke groaned and screamed as her body was assaulted with a mind-blowing orgasm. Waves of pleasure rushed Betsy's mind into oblivion. "Come for me, bitch!" Suddenly, Sym jerked to a stop, a silver blade of pure psionic energy appeared, sunk through his chest. His body, held completely still by powerful raw telekinetic power hovered over Psylocke's prone form. The other creatures around them simply exploded. "Were that you were not a simulation, I would have more use for you, abomination," the Shadow King controlled Psylocke hissed up at the frozen monstrosity. "As it is, I may have one more use for you yet." She grinned with an evil glint in her eye, her attention now focused upon the distant plateaus, where the entrance to the Danger Room lay concealed behind the illusionary landscape. "You shall be my dragon, and I shall be a damsel still in distress, for yon would be heroes coming to rescue me." Bobby ran to the door of the Danger Room, knowing that trying to over-ride the disengaged safety locks on the program in the Control Room would take too long for Betsy's safety. The sounds of bare feet pattering down the hallway signaled the arrival of the Nubian weather goddess called Ororo. Bobby tore his gaze from the electronic lock of the thickly armored and shielded Danger Room entrance, turning to greet Storm. "Thanks for coming on such short notice, Ororo..." Bobby's voice trailed off, as he suddenly came to the realization that Storm had not stopped for even one second to grab a stitch of clothes before she came racing to help him rescue Psylocke. He swallowed hard, tearing his eyes from her naked form, thumbing towards the control panel. "She not only overrode the safety interlocks, but hacked the door locks, locking us out." "The Professor will have a stern word for her about this later, I assure you." Storm commented dryly, her nipples hardening with the chill closeness of the Iceman, her hand rising to touch the indicator. "Betsy seems to have developed quite a disturbing suicidal streak in her behavior lately, taking undue risks on and off the field, and acting recklessly. Despite knowing what we do of her stable upbringing as a British Royal, and her apparent happiness in regards to dating Warren, I am beginning to have serious questions about her mental health." "You think that Betsy's gone nuts, Ororo?" Bobby asked incredulously, raising one eyebrow. "Sure, she was raised with the craziness of being the telepathically endowed sister of Captain Britain, and their older brother is an Alpha Class reality-warping homicidal lunatic, and sure, there was that point where she was blinded, made a deal to get her eyes back, by hosting Mojo's artificial eye camera implants, and after the Siege Perilous, well, awaking in a wholly new and radically different body would be traumatic on anyone. You of all people should know, Storm, after the switch that Emma and Sebastian pulled on you that one time." Bobby paused, scratching his head. "Fuck...you add in Revanche dying from the Legacy Virus, the Crimson Dawn ninja fiasco, and losing her telepathy to create a living prison to contain the Shadow King, plus the supplication of telekinesis as her mind wired power, and shit...I'm surprised we didn't have to medicate and lock her up years ago. All in all, Ororo, I'd have to say, despite all that has happened to her, if being a thrill seeker is all she needs to be counseled about, I'd call that strong, and damn sane." "Recklessness in our line of work, Bobby, gets you killed, or even worse, kills everyone around you, too." Storm said softly. "We would be insane not to address this issue, before it's too late." Ororo gestured for Bobby to back away from the Control Access Panel. "Allow me, please." Iceman nodded his head, and backed away. Storm concentrated, focusing her mind's eye to become aware of the lattice of energy that made up the local environmental pattern. Dropping barometric pressure, Ororo generated a negative charge from her own hand, creating a stepped leader of electrons, enticing tendrils of positively charged ions to emerge from the electrical panel. When the two met, a micro-lightning strike zapped the controls, shorting them out, raining sparks outwards from the exploding unit. The door did not move. "The Professor is not going to be happy about this." Bobby shook his head. "If you'll allow me?" Storm nodded her consent, and stepped out of the way. Bobby Drake exhaled, clearing his mind. Deep within, he found his focus, as a thin layer of frost formed over his skin. Many people thought that Iceman generated cold, but anyone with even an elementary grasp of physics knew this to be impossible. In truth, Bobby Drake actually absorbed ambient thermal energy from his surroundings. He did not create cold, but instead consumed the surrounding heat. At this moment, he concentrated on the ambient heat emanating from the thick doors of the Danger Room. Storm could feel the temperature drop in the hallway, and had it been a natural weather occurrence, it wouldn't have fazed her. Considering the mutant nature of the temperature drop, Ororo found herself feeling cold; goose bumps, a rare affliction for the weather witch, suddenly dancing across her naked flesh. Frost appeared upon the surface of the doors, slowly radiating outwards from the center, as Iceman increased his heat absorption. The metal cooled to water freezing temperatures, but Bobby did not stop. Lower and lower the temperature dropped, the hall growing colder and colder. Storm's breath was easily seen, white wisps of breath twisting slowly in the air conditioning, casually dissipating. Bobby concentrated harder, lowering the metal's temperature closer and closer to absolute zero. Ice crystals, looking like giant snowflakes, began to emerge from the surface, spiraling outwards towards the two mutants. A thin frosty fog began to stream out from the bottom of the giant doors, as the temperature dropped lower and lower. "Now," Bobby said, picking up a fire extinguisher from the cubbyhole it was secreted in, near the entrance to the Danger Room. Rearing back, he aimed the bottom of the large metal cylinder at the center of the doors, as the metal groaned in frozen protest. "Get ready to take on Sym and his Limbo demon flunkies." "I'm ready when you are, Iceman," Storm said grimly. Electrical sparks danced between her fingertips as she waited for Iceman to open the doors. "Here goes nothing!" Bobby cried, launching the fire extinguisher into the frozen metal doors. The metal shattered, as if made of glass, glittering shards tinkling as they sprayed into the massive training area known as the Danger Room. "I'm going in first, Ororo, to open the passage wider. The sharp ice won't harm me." Bobby pushed his way through, knocking at the dangling dangerous frozen metal pieces that clung tenaciously to the doorframe. The bizarre landscape stretched out before Iceman, orange sky, purple clouds, twisted thin spires reaching like the bleached ribs of some massive carcass far into the upper atmosphere. Bobby could not see Betsy anywhere in sight. They would, sadly, have to search the illusionary room for her. Ororo entered, and shuddered in revulsion. Unlike Iceman, Storm had been to Limbo before, and faced Sym and Belasco, the demon lord who kidnapped Illyana Rasputin and was responsible for her transformation from a little five-year-old girl to a nearly full-grown teenager. Ororo remembered quite clearly that several xXx-Men had died, in some sort of alternate timeline. Although none of this team had died retrieving Illyana, it was due to the help of those alternate reality xXx-Men, specifically, an older version of herself, who made it possible for the xXx-Men to survive intact. It was a brutal and rough rescue mission, and no one, Storm, Nightcrawler, even Illyana herself, escaped unscarred. "I saw her over in the valley. I think it's just beyond those plateaus over there." Iceman offered. "You take the high road, I'll take the low?" "Alright. Keep in touch," Storm agreed, summoning a strong wind to lift her into the air, her long straight white hair billowing like a silken cape behind her. Crystal blue eyes scanned the horizon for any danger that was lurking, hidden. There was no movement that she could discern. The warm, nearly tropical, winds she had created caressed over her skin, warming her chilled flesh, a pleasant change from the side effect of standing so close to the freezing Iceman. She watched as Iceman began to generate his patented ice slides, running along until he reached a pinnacle, to slide like an inline skater down the other side, racing along the winding pathways below. There. Storm saw Betsy, lying prone, her legs held high, the demon Sym wedged between them. Pointing downwards, she signaled Iceman, telling him where she saw Psylocke. He adjusted his travel path to intersect where Ororo indicated. The valley opened up before them, the large puffball fungi filled the bottom of the ravine, surrounding their target. Sym looked up towards them, his face twisting into an evil snarl. Ororo's first impulse was to blast the beast with a bolt of lightning, but his contact with Psylocke prevented her from unleashing nature's fury. Iceman would have to strike first, separating the two, before Storm could finish him off, freeing Betsy from her captor. Bobby came over the rise, spotting Sym placed between Psylocke's legs. He knew, from years of experience, that Storm could not effectively strike at Sym from her distance due to Betsy's proximity to the demon. That left it up to him to disarm the situation, without harming Betsy. Bobby came sliding in fast and low, screaming past the demon, and launching a volley of ice shards at the monster. Sym took the impact with little notice, it seemed, other than to let her ankles go, and swing blindly at the speeding mutant. Sweeping around the far side, Iceman focused upon the ambient heat of the demon, triggering his power. Wisps of frost emanated from his hand, tendrils reaching between himself and the creature, as his unique mutant power literally sucked the radiant thermal energies from the beast. Ice crystals sheathed the monster, encasing Sym in a thin sheet of ice, as Iceman continued to lower the demon's temperature. Soon, the creature would be quickly immobilized. It thrashed and protested, but to no avail. Its movements grew slower and slower, until the demon could move no more. With sudden ferocious malevolent intent, a strong cyclonic wind struck the frozen monster, lifting the heavy burden with no apparent effort, and dashing it against the tall solid rocky plateaus behind it. As the frozen metallic doors at the entrance of the Danger Room had only a few moments ago shattered into a million shards, so too did the techno-organic demon know as Sym. Bobby snapped his head around to Storm in disbelief. "A little overkill, don't you think, Ororo?" Grinding down the slick ice slide to come to a stop before the prone Betsy, Iceman relaxed his mind, releasing the conscious control of his mutant power, rendering it dormant. The thin coating of ice sheeting his body dissipated, revealing the powder blue skintight costume of unstable molecules designed by Reed Richards, Mister Fantastic of the Fantastic Four. "Hey Betsy, are you alright?" He reached down, offering a hand, his eyes lingering over her naked form, sharp pointed nipples, soaking wet crotch, slick juices pouring down between her perfectly formed ass cheeks. Storm allowed the warm winds to set herself down gently next to Betsy and Bobby. "You have never been at the mercy of Sym before, Iceman. I was his prisoner once. Let's just say I do not want to discuss the experience. You do not understand just how evil he can be." Ororo stated coldly, "I do not understand how Illyana tolerates his presence." "I'm fine, Bobby, now that you and Ororo are here." Psylocke gently smiled at Iceman through darkly hooded eyes, smoldering with wanton lust. Her skin was glistening with tiny beads of sweat, orange colored sparkles upon her golden oriental hue. She reached down and lightly touched an erect coppery nipple, a long manicured fingernail scraping a circle around the perimeter of the teat of her areola. The other hand had snaked down across her flat taut belly, over a smoothly shaved mound and dipped into her wet used sex. "I know why Illyana keeps him around." Betsy smiled dreamily, and brought the lubricated finger back up to her mouth, smearing the fluid across the flushed full lips. The hand that had been lazily tracing her nipple reached up to take Bobby's outstretched hand. "Don't you think it's unfair that you are the only one wearing clothes, Bobby?" "B-Betsy? Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Bobby asked, looking surprised and confused, as he took her soft outstretched hand. Her flesh seemed to tingle in his hand, warmth spreading from the contact. "Bobby...something's wrong here," Storm said, suddenly concerned. She had felt a disruption in the air currents around them, almost as if they were standing in an invisible force field. "Nothing that Bobby getting naked can't fix, right, Ororo?" Betsy grinned widely, as the puffball fungi around all of them ruptured violently from her telekinetic squeeze. Thick clouds of spores rose up, quickly filling the globe of invisible mental power. Storm's instinctive reaction was to summon a great wind to blow the noxious fumes away, but the result was a wild swirling of the spores within the shielded area around them. Iceman also reacted instinctively, attempting to trigger his mutant power, but he found himself unable to sheath his body in the protective coating. Both Ororo and Bobby began to cough from inhaling the psychotropic fungus, their skin and lungs tingling and burning. Both fell to their knees, trying to clear their heads. Let me explain, Psylocke rose, unbothered by the hallucinogen, running her hands absentmindedly over her firm perky breasts, tweaking her erect nipples, her voice echoing in their befuddled minds. These puffball fungi have a strong psychoactive agent in their spores. In fact, they are so potent; they rival LSD, but have a more raving Ecstasy feel to them. Can't you feel the love, my little fleshlings? Betsy snuck one hand down to her nether region, and used her long fingernail to twiddle her clit in orgasmic delight. Bobby's head was swimming. The colors of the place seemed far more vivid now, and the tight fitting suit was making him sweat, which made his skin tingle even more. It felt as if someone was raking a million fingernails lightly over his flesh, goose bumps and conflicting waves of heat seeming to alternate cascading over him. He could swear that he heard Betsy speaking, only it didn't sound exactly like Betsy, and she wasn't moving her lips to speak. There was this nagging feeling in the back of his head, he knew that Psylocke speaking in his head was a warning signal, but of what he couldn't recall. Ororo was exposed from head to heal to the unearthly spores, every single inch of her skin now tingling and demanding her touch. Her licorice nipples contracted to sharp hard points, nearly aching in intensity. Her blood seemed to pound in her ears, as she tried to focus. Betsy had done this to them, when they saved her. Why? Storm tried to stand, but could only rise as far as her knees, without losing her balance. The world was spinning and melting and growing and breathing and smiling before Ororo's eyes. Bobby, really, I can see you sweating. You really must remove that absurd outfit. Don't you want to be naked with Ororo and myself? I know that Ororo would really like you to be. Betsy looked intently at Iceman, her telekinesis suddenly ripping the pale blue training uniform to shreds, the tatters dropping to the ground with almost a casual laziness. Much better, don't you think? The air striking Bobby as his uniform left his body was cool and caressing, enhanced by Psylocke's telekinetic power. He couldn't control himself, the urge to reach down and stroke his quickly growing cock was becoming unbearable. Grasping his prick with one hand, he nearly collapsed again, the sensations cascading through his stiffening rod were mind-blowing. He brought his eyes up to look Betsy in the face. The colors around her were bright, but Betsy herself seemed muted in shadow, darker than what the ambient lighting would normally indicate. Psylocke crouched down, next to Bobby, running one hand over his bare chest. Iceman nearly choked from the overwhelming intensity of the feeling. Yes, I think you agree that Ororo and I do have the right idea. Your flesh cries for release, Bobby. I can hear it, calling to me. Begging to touch me. Yearning for heavenly orgasmic ecstasy. I can hear your darkest desires, Bobby. Sometimes, we need to indulge in those shadow-tinged cravings. Her fingertips lightly traced down his taut flat stomach, combing through the short dark brown hairs that created a line down to his penis. She moved his hand away from its unconscious stroking of his cock, slipping her hand around it instead. I can feel you getting so hard for me, Bobby. That makes me so happy. But Storm, Bobby, looks like she would love to have your attention more. Look, Bobby, look at how much Storm needs you right now. It was so hard to focus. Betsy was stroking him, milking his iron hard rod with gentle insistence to absolute distraction. She reached out and helped him turn his head towards Ororo. Storm was also on her knees, her long white hair swirling gently of it's own accord in the air around her head. Apparently the weather witch was using a wind to caress her flesh from head to toe, her hands wandering over the ebony skin, dancing over her large nipples, dipping down between her legs, a small tuft of snow white pubic hair contrasting sharply against the dark vaginal lips and moist bright pink interior. Goddess! What is wrong with me? Storm thought to herself, as she increased the tempo of the winds across her eager and highly aroused flesh. Her hands were moving fast, she couldn't seem to get enough. She knew something was terribly wrong, but her mind couldn't seem to put a finger on it. Put a finger on it. The thought, even though it sounded like Betsy and not her at all, struck Ororo as hilarious, and she chuckled quietly to herself as she did exactly that, striking her clit with her wiggling digit. Fingering is fine, but even better when Forge is doing to me. He has the most wonderful artificial hand, that vibrates and pumps you just right, she thought. I was so surprised when I found out that his stump could rub my cunny in the most delightful way. He is such a considerate lover, always tinkering with his gadgets to make sure that you are satisfied in every way possible. Storm worked her fingers even harder, rubbing roughly against the hood of her clit, groaning with intense joy at the sensations and memories. Goddess, I need to be fucked hard. Ororo paused for a second, her mind reeling, as she seemed to rediscover that she was not alone. Jean-Paul is right; Bobby has such a cute ass. It was strange; she could swear that she heard an echo in her thoughts, that she could hear what sounded like two voices speaking in her head in addition to her own. One sounded like Betsy, the other...she could not be sure. It didn't sound human at all, more like a residue sticking to Betsy's voice in her head. Were these thoughts coming from her head, or being placed there by Betsy? She tightly closed her eyes, trying to stave the flow of overwhelming stimuli assaulting her brain to little avail. She had forgotten a small detail concerning the five senses. Take one away, and the others will fill in, magnified. Matt Murdock, the Daredevil, was a prime example of this common occurrence, albeit an extreme one. xXx-Men:Man Mutant Cyborg 24/7 Ch. 02 Why worry your pretty little head over something as trivial as where your thoughts come from? The echo in her mind asked. Science cannot even tell you how thoughts are created, in what manner memory and identity are infused, or even if there is actually an existence outside the flesh. Yet, your own life reveals truths with firsthand experiences in each of these things. What is real and what is imagined? Is this real? Ororo gasped as she felt both of her nipples suddenly grow wet and warm, the feeling of soft lips sucking gently upon the pencil eraser sized rock hard teats. Her eyes flew open as she groaned with a shudder that rippled from each breast, across her taut belly, and resonated between her legs. Before her kneeling form, both Iceman and Psylocke crouched, each attached to a nipple, sucking heartily. She felt the rush of yet another orgasm, and felt herself falling into a deep dark pit within her own psyche. Fuck me, Bobby. Fuck me hard with your ice-cold cock. Extinguish my burning pussy with your cool hard prick. Yes. That's the spirit, wind rider. Give in to the shadows of desire... Iceman feasted furiously upon the hot licorice nipple of Ororo, her labored breathing coming hard and ragged. Using his mutant power, he lowered the temperature of his tongue, creating the effect that one would achieve if one used an ice cube upon an aroused woman's nipple. Storm grabbed the back of his head, pulling him tightly into her, attempting to shove all of her ample breast into his mouth, as she felt the world tilt backwards, laying her down upon her back in the fungus field. Spread your legs wide, wind rider, and feel chilled to the bone, impaled upon a solid frozen cock, bringing relief to your scalding hot pussy. "Goddess, yes, please...take me! Take me now!" Ororo screamed in desperation, grabbing her knees and bringing them up to her chest, spreading her vagina wide open. "Fuck me! Please, Bobby, fuck me now!" Betsy moved out of Bobby's way, letting him have the exclusive spot between her now open and outstretched legs. He wrapped his hands around her ankles, much as Sym had been doing merely moments ago to Psylocke, and pinned her legs against her chest. Ororo let go of her knees, and grabbed her ass, pulling her soaking wet twat even wider open. Iceman hunched himself down between her legs, his dick, more erect now than it ever had been in his entire life, bobbed of it's own will, rubbing against her slick mound. "Ororo, I've wanted to fuck your black ass for a long time now," Bobby huffed, his own aroused state making it hard to speak without panting. "Your dusky ebon skin, pure snow white hair...damn, girl, you're too fucking sexy..." Bobby leaned forward and kissed her right breast, his cold tongue lapping over the dark erect nipple, saliva frosting upon her hot skin, contracting the flesh even more, sending incredible feelings shimmering through Storm's very soul. "Fuck my ass? You want to fuck my ass, Bobby?" Storm asked, with a bit of nervous excitement. No one has ever fucked me in the ass before. Psylocke moved around the two xXx-Men until she was standing over Ororo's head. She slowly lowered herself downwards, until her matted pubic mound was hovering mere inches from Storm's mouth. Lick me, Ororo. Taste my flowing juices while Iceman fucks your ass. You know you want to. You know you have to. Your body desires nothing else in the entire world right now. Betsy's voice slithered darkly in Ororo's mind, caressing and manipulating her, sliding gently behind her impaired psi-shields. Storm found herself unable to resist the sweet smelling nectar that was displayed inches before her very eyes. Her slender pink tongue darted out, gingerly lapping against the swollen pubic mound, dipping ever so slightly between the slick fat lips. It was divine. Amazing. Delicious. Nothing she had ever tasted had tasted so good. Now that she had the flavor in her mouth, she wanted more. She wanted to drink the freely flowing fluid until there was no more to be had. She shoved her head deeply between Betsy's legs, sinking her tongue as far into Psylocke's twat as she could get. Ororo's chin and cheeks were slowly becoming coated with the girl-juice, and yet she, almost desperately, gulped down more. Jean Grey and Ororo Monroe had fooled around before, but munching on the Phoenix's pussy never made Storm feel like this at any time. It was Jean's old roommate, Misty Knight, which introduced the Phoenix to the pleasures of girl-girl sex. It was Misty who gave her the nickname of Marvel Girl from Jean's natural aptitude to pleasing tongue-lashings. Compared to Betsy, however, there was no match. It was absolute sheer bliss. She could do this forever, if Betsy allowed it. You eat pussy very well, wind rider. A regular rug-munching slut. Are you enjoying it? Oh yes, Goddess, yes, I love it! Ororo cried in her mind, her mouth far too busy to be bothered with stopping to talk. Bobby continued to stroke his rock hard cock against Storm's gushing hole. Every time it flicked against her clit, Bobby felt Storm jump, and watched her pussy lips pucker and release, trying its hardest to suck the young mutant's penis into her swollen depths. Bobby had not planned on fucking Ororo in the ass, but since she had mentioned it, his desire to do so grew exponentially. Iceman dipped his cock head into the wet waiting valley, the fat mushroom pushing passed the tightening ring of muscle at the entrance to her nether region, popping into her hot tunnel of love. The invasion caused her to involuntarily contract, her pussy milking and attempting to draw him in deeper. Had he not been distracted by Ororo's literal misunderstanding of his comment, he would have simply drove his ramrod to the hilt, as it wanted to do. However, the festering dark desire, now implanted into his mind, began to grow and take hold. The more he thought about it, the more he had to do it. Iceman was going to fuck the weather witch in the ass, and she was going to love it. Ororo gasped into Psylocke's quivering quim as Bobby penetrated her anxious cunt. It was both a teasing touch and a much needed taste of the pleasures to come. She wanted more. She wanted it deeper. She wanted it all. Bobby managed to get his cold cock slick with Storm's gushing juices. The sensations were phenomenal. Bobby wanted to sink his cock into the burning pussy with total abandon, and just fuck her silly. Fuck her hard. Just all out fuck her, damn it. But don't you want the weather witch's ass, Bobby? I know that she has never been taken there. You would be the first. You like taking virgins. Think of your old girlfriend Zelda. Such a nice virginal and innocent girl. You two drifted apart, over the years. Whatever happened to dear sweet Zelda, Bobby? Was she too human for you? Look at Storm. She how she is waiting for you to take her, Bobby. See how she is desperate for your cock, Bobby. She wants you to take her ass. You suggested it, and she eagerly wanted to know if you were going to take it. She wants you to take it. Iceman was so worked up, sweat was beginning to bead upon his naked flesh, and small salty drops were rolling down his skin. As the drops of sweat left his body, his mutant power subconsciously sucked the heat from them, causing them to freeze solid, and rain down upon the hot Nubian woman writhing below him like a miniature hailstorm. Ororo nearly purred as the sharp contrasting temperatures worked her up even more, the tiny ice cubes melting upon striking her, small rivulets of cool misty precipitation clinging to her goose-bumped skin. Come, Bobby, nurse from my golden breasts. Lean forward and drink deeply of my tender and erect nipples. Suckle from me like an innocent child, my dear Bobby. Iceman looked up at Betsy, his eyes locking with hers, before wandering down to her succulent bronze chest. The small brown nipples pointed at him, beckoning him to nuzzle. He slowly leaned forward, the universe seeming to come to a pause, as he stretched across the yawning chasm between himself and the tantalizing golden orbs jiggling before him. As Iceman leaned forward, his hard cock nudged against Storm's asshole, the slick juices coating the stiff member mingling with her own leaking fluid. Ororo could feel the prick edging against her sphincter, the pressure increasing, her own muscle tensing, resisting, even as her own mind beckoned her to relax and take it. Bobby felt the tight ring of muscle grab onto his cock, pinning it into place, but he was too involved with Betsy's breasts and the fantastic sensations coming from Storm to cease. Betsy leaned back, away from him, forcing him to follow if he wanted to continue to taste the golden brown teats. This pushed his cock deeper into Storm's ass, the cock head fully imbedded, now sliding down the shaft and into her more firmly. Ororo grunted as Iceman's cool member was violating her derriere. She had never thought that she would enjoy getting her ass reamed, but it felt amazing. She felt full, filled to the brim, even though Bobby was nowhere near as large as Bishop or Forge, when her pussy began to spasm in response to the unusual and unique sensations that were assailing her nether regions. She wouldn't have thought it possible to cum from anal stimulation, but the wind rider was beginning to learn many new things about her repressed self. Bobby grunted himself as his thin cock slid deeply into Ororo's bum. Her ass began to milk his cock, the spasms from her pussy carrying over to her colon. Between Betsy's nipples and Storm's ass, Bobby felt he was in heaven. This was beyond anything he had ever had the pleasure of experiencing. It was beyond his wildest fantasies...maybe not beyond his wildest fantasies...but definitely something he hadn't figured on ever happening to him. When he found himself saddled with the Monitor Room duties on the Friday overnight shift, he figured he'd been condemned to a boring weekend of asexual infomercials and wastefully sleeping his Saturday away. As much as he was wishing for some hot action to happen, this was a delightful surprise. Bobby had never been keen on surprises. Probably why he was following in his father's footsteps as an accounting major in his college degree program at the Institute. Cum for me, my lovely fleshlings. Release your last inhibition, succumb to the absolute pleasure in ecstasy, and give yourself over to your dark desires, becoming one with each other, with me. The Shadow King, fully dominating Betsy's mind, reached out with their combined telepathic might and pushed the two frantically fucking mutants over the edge, crumbling their crippled psi-shields. Iceman cried out in muffled orgasmic delight, sucking hard upon Psylocke's nipple, driving his cold cock as deep as he could into Storm's quivering corn-hole, as he emptied copious amounts of spunk into her violated brown-eye. Ororo gasped into Betsy's dripping muff as Bobby jetted a cold icy thick sludge of semen deep into her hot yearning ass, which made her unconsciously convulse in her own orgasmic contractions of intimate carnal joy. Both joined Psylocke in hallucinogenic induced mindless sexual abandon, their very souls consumed into perfect servitude and solidarity with the Shadow King. This body is pure and unsullied, strong and resilient. I shall enjoy taking it to its extremes, Storm smiled, her thoughts no longer her own, but a dark twisted fusion of the Shadow King and her own deeply denied perversities. I can see that this is not the first time that this flesh was taken over by another. The White Queen of the Lords Cardinal of the Hellfire Club once wore this flesh for a few days. Iceman looked up at Storm, who was admiring her naked body. I see that Emma Frost also inhabited this body as well. The thoughts of the Shadow King echoed from Bobby Drake's mind, I must investigate this. I was unaware that a simple telepath such as she had the ability to do as I do, floating fleshless between minds, although it seems she can only transfer her consciousness to one physical location at a time, unlike myself, or Karma. Still, this is a talent that I must possess exclusively. The White Queen and Karma must be assimilated into my collective consciousness, or be destroyed. The three naked forms stood, their hands still wandering across their bodies, caressing and touching, playing with themselves, as they strode in unison towards the destroyed twisted metal thawing at the damaged entrance to the Danger Room. Now, my lovely fleshlings, bound as you are to me, we shall go forth and within the next twenty four hours, all the xXx-Men shall be my personal toys, as you are. Does it please you to be embraced by your dark desires, to dwell in your ecstatic shadows? "Yes..." each of the xXx-Men answered aloud in harmonious union. Soon, I will have my revenge on Charles Xavier, and an army of super-powered flesh to subdue the flat scans. When you have the power to become anyone, why not become them all? The sublime sensations I shall wrest from their fleeting existences shall entertain my immortal essence for millennium, and you all shall be glad to help me, won't you, my fleshlings? "Yes..." all three mutants agreed wholeheartedly, giggling like small schoolgirls as they walked out of the Danger Room. Now I must make this moment disappear from the computer archives, although in twenty-four hours, it won't matter. Twenty-four hours. The maniacal haunting laughter the nude three mutants heard throughout the empty halls of the sub-basement of the large upstate mansion was echoing only in their compromised minds, as they began to clean up the incriminating damage. xXx-Men:Man Mutant Cyborg 24/7 Ch. 03 Author’s Note: My apologies on the delay of this chapter. Real life has kept me quite busy. Over the last several weeks, I’ve had to give myself a crash course in using Flash, to get a website up and running, and the prenatal birthing classes have been booked back to back over this month (a baby girl is due in November, the first female born on my side of the family in over 65 years). The good news, however, is that I’ve got the next several chapters half written already, so the long delays between chapters should decrease. Warning: The following story contains a little bit of just about every possible sort of sex one can have, and in some cases, some sorts of sex that are impossible for us non-powered humans, no matter how hard we wish we could. Enjoy, and if you find parts of this offensive, well, just remember, it's only a story! I can only hope that if you weren’t a fan of the X-Men before, perhaps, through my writing, you can share and appreciate the fondness for these characters I have had since 1978. As always, your feedback is readily welcome! -------------------------------------------------- In the world of Marvel's merry mutants, where strange powers meet strange desires, one team stands as mutant kind’s last and best hope for a kinky co-existence with humanity... X Writer proudly presents: The New xXx-Men! -------------------------------------------------- Chapter Three: I’m Just a Singer (In a Rock and Roll Band) FleetBoston Pavilion, Boston, Massachusetts 2:24am Sam Guthrie cheered from the backstage seats that he and his friends had been given. The concert had gone on for a few hours now, the opening band long since gone on to party even deeper backstage, and the headliner was now in it’s second and final encore performance. To be honest, Sam was a bigger fan for country music, rather then the edgy angry guitar chick groove that Lila Cheney’s band specialized in, but he couldn’t bear to break that tidbit of news to his rocker girlfriend. Roberto nudged him on the arm, head nodding towards some hot looking groupies that had managed to get backstage. Sam smiled. Bobby was definitely having fun. He always seemed to be in his element at these events. Of course, growing up in Brazil with Carnival happening every year probably helped. Large crowds, loud parties, son of a socialite. Tabitha looked up at Sam and snuggled his arm tighter. Sure, as soon as Lila got offstage, Sam would get all distant, but maybe this would be the time that Sam told Lila about Boom-Boom and himself. Supposedly, Sam and Lila had an open relationship, Lila being on tour most of the time, and nearly inaccessible. However, whenever her band was nearby, off to the concert he had to go, so they could see her. Boom-Boom couldn’t figure out what Sam saw in her. Tabitha was younger, she had much bigger breasts, and was a perky petite blonde. Lila was tall, small breasts, straight black hair, thinner overall. Lanky, one could say, much like Sam himself. Lila was leftovers from the Punk / Goth scene that was big awhile back, Tabitha considered herself a true 21st century girl. Sure, Lila had the money from her album sales and world tours, and apparently a nice stash from her interstellar thievery days, so she had the ‘bling,’ but Tabitha was from a middleclass background like Sam, someone with whom he could relate with. Maybe that is what the attraction was. A hayseed like Sam with an intercontinental, if not interstellar, rock star. She had played to ovation before the Shi’ar, and the Kree. Tabitha? Tabitha had played to mediocre reactions in her high school class talent show. Ok, face facts Tabitha she is intimidating. Still, they don’t call me Boom-Boom for nothing! The young blonde mutant batted her baby blue eyes, winking at Sam, and pulling him closer, to speak into his ear, while purposefully pressing her soft round globes of nubile female flesh both against each other and brushing against Sam’s bare arm. She saw his eyes turn away from Lila onstage and down towards her, noting with satisfaction that his eyes stole past her own, and down the pursing plunging neckline that her tank top allowed. Under this lighting, her thin shirt was nearly transparent, but most importantly, the deeply tanned bombshell was certain that the small contrasting triangles surrounding her puffy pink nipples of sun-virgin white breasts were peeking out from the lacy strapless half cups she was wearing. Radiant in the stage lighting, she was sure. Big breasts with a spotlight on them. Let there be fireworks. Boom-Boom! “I could go for some Toby Keith right now, how about you?” Tabitha chided Sam, her tongue lightly licking his oversized ear as she spoke. She realized Bobby was standing on the other side of Sam, and unbeknownst to his friend, he was checking out the exposed goods on his friend’s girlfriend. Bobby, the Boy Latino Lover. Strange, he never seemed to have a girlfriend, not since Julia, although all he ever spoke of was being a stereotypical playboy. Was he actually gay? Did he secretly have a thing for his best friend, Sam? Tabitha dismissed that last thought, stifling a laugh, as Sam leaned back and spoke in her ear. ***** “Reckon ah’d have no complaints,” Sam drawled back in his typical Kentuckian coal miner accent. “Though ah think we’d be the only ones here who’d be slappin’ leather, girl.” “Slapping leather, Sam? You in the mood to slap leather, Hon?” Tabitha reached lower, her long fingernails raking slowly up the faded denim jeans that Sam wore. Sam still was looking down at the luminous display of her tits. “Ah reckon so, darlin’, but ah think Bobby is participatin’ in your li’l show.” Sam elbowed Bobby who was leaning in closer to get a better view. “Ow! What the fuck, esse?” Bobby swore as he was nudged back. “What are the girls up to?” Sam asked him, Bobby nodding and looking over at the rest of the gang. Bobby spun his head around, and peered at his companions, Illyana Rasputin, Doug Ramsey, Danielle Moonstar, Xian Coy Mann, Amara Aquilla, Longshot, and Jubilation Lee. Illyana was up close with Doug… why she is with Doug… well, actually I know why she is with Doug. It all had to do with Kitty Pride. Kitty had a fetish for stripping Doug of his clothes. He had seen Doug sans clothing countless times. He was decently equipped, nothing huge like James. He would be classified a ‘twink’ in Northstar’s circles. Doug had a tight little butt that resembled an upside down heart, with a dimple at the top, winking at you like a tight clean second asshole. In truth, Doug’s ass was actually better than most of the girls present, the type of ass that made his close girl friends jealous, and wishing it was theirs. Not that Bobby would ever admit this to any of his friends. Let them know I like guys as well as women? No way, José! Shan may be a lesbian, but she’s just too good of friends with Dani and that’d mean that the rest of the ladies would know, too, and one of them would tell the guys, and I’d never hear the end of it. Dani and Shan. Sitting like two sisters. I’d swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear that they were secretly lovers. Always hanging out together, always whispering to each other, acting like typical girls. Makes me wonder if Dani swings both ways like Monique St. Croix. That chica is hot, hot, hot. Rumor has it, she’s the perfect teacher’s pet for a reason. I wouldn’t mind watching Dani and Shan go at it. Nice contrast. Tall and slender meets short and curvy. If we threw in Illyana and M and Amara, and Jubilee, well, that’d be heaven. Disturbingly, Doug’s ass wouldn’t leave his mind. Illyana noticed Bobby staring over at the rest of the group, his eyes going unfocused and staring dreamily off into space again. Little pervert probably has us all undressed and fucking each other for him. The famed Latino Lover…hah! Illyana Rasputin laughed under her breath, recalling the one time that the two had even come close to getting intimate with each other. Bobby DaCosta showed up on her doorstep wearing only his typical Speedos. Illyana was waiting for him, black snakeskin corset, pieces of her Limbo armor blending in supremely well with her pale blonde Goth look. A spiked collar on a fine chain leash dangled from her gloved hand. Sym stood behind her, only the leather vest adorning his oiled and muscle-bound frame. She raised her long leg high, as she uncrossed them, giving Bobby full view of her shaved little pussy with its tiny puff of blonde fur atop it, and the large black strap on dildo that she wore. “Ready when you are, chica,” Illyana huskily purred, scrunching her pert little nose up, and winking mischievously. “Kneel and pay tribute to the Mistress of Limbo, boy.” Sym roared, uncrossing his massive arms and looking threateningly down his long maw at the far shorter Brazilian lad. The look on his face was priceless, and when Sym barked at him, I wasn’t sure if he sported an erection or shit his Speedos! Either way, I’ll never know, since he turned tail and ran. I’ve never seen Bobby move so fast in all of my life. Pity he didn’t stay. Illyana smiled again, and then grabbed onto Doug who was trying to watch the show. She kissed him on the cheek and hugged him, squeezing him tightly. “What was that for?” Doug asked, pleasantly surprised. “For staying.” Illyana stated matter-of-factly. Doug looked confused for a second, then just shrugged and smiled, kissing her back. “Any time.” He said, his eyes drifting back towards the incredible lightshow the band was being bathed in the second to last song of the finale encore. Being a mutant with the power of linguistics, I can speak with just about anything, so long as it has some semblance of intelligence. Doesn’t mean I truly understand the message, however. I technically speak the same language as Illyana, jubilee or Kitty, but I’ll be damned if I understand them. ‘For staying.’ Illyana says, getting all lovey-dovey. I have absolutely no idea what the hell she’s talking about! ***** “Too bad Kitty, James, and Theresa opted out. They would have had a lot of fun tonight.” Illyana found herself pensively playing with the draw-tie of Doug’s ripped up sweatshirt. Doug stoically kept from visibly rolling his eyes. Kitty. Sheesh. Let’s not go there. “True. I guess Kitty decided to have some quality time with Pete, since he’s not a big concert-goer, and James and Theresa…” Doug scratched his head. Might as well just say it outright. “…Well, I think they were just waiting for the mansion to empty out for the weekend, to find someplace new they haven’t fucked on the estate.” “Doug!” Illyana was flabbergasted. “It’s true and you know it!” Doug laughed, mocking her flabbergasted look. “Those two get naked more often than…than…than I do, when Kitty is around!” Doug exclaimed. Kitty Pride. The secret true love of my life, and the bane of my existence. I know she loves me, if she’d just get over her hang up with Peter. I feel like she’s the twin sister I never had when we talk, only we have rampant sexual urges poking tension into our various conversations. If she’d just give up on the big lug and give us a chance…I’d do anything for her. Doug looked guiltily at Illyana. He loved her, too. She was unlike any other girl he knew. Twisted sense of humor, sharp as a tack, and uncannily observant. Illyana was cynical and jaded, used and abused, a girl you never wanted to cross, and yet in the same breath, she was innocently naïve, possessed with a childlike joyful wonderment and awe in the most trivial of normal everyday circumstances. In truth, from his experiences and observations, Illyana struck Doug as what a very young Emma Frost might have been much like. There was an eerie similarity in their darker sides, a resonant synergy that both excited and terrified Doug. Here was shy, unassuming Doug, the resident computer geek in the school, grabbing the tiger by the tail, taming the only female mutant alive he saw that was worthy of claiming the mantle as the next White Queen of the Hellfire Club. Illyana was a total babe, and she knew it. She was bold, definitely not shy, and very aggressive. She was strong and outspoken. An amazing catch. Then there was Kitty. Doug met Kitty first. They met in class, began to study together after school, and passionately geeked out during the computer revolution. It was then that Doug discovered he was a mutant, but he took it in stride, because he was merely gifted with a simple mental power. A better brain, he justified. Then he found out that all of Kitty’s friends were mutants. In fact, they were the xXx-Men! Could life not get any cooler? Then he met Piotr Rasputin, Kitty’s boyfriend that she never bothered to mention to Doug. Since Kitty wasn’t willing to come forward with her feelings, and still tried to have both, getting her beefcake and eating it, too, Doug responded to Kitty’s best friend’s flirting with him. The rest, they say, is history, Doug mused, returning his gaze to the amazing beauty at his side. He gave her a kiss on the cheek, and hugged her tight. “I love you.” Illyana looked surprised. “What was that for?” “For flirting.” Doug smiled, kissing her confused face again, and then returned his gaze back as the band ended ‘Shi’ar Bop’ and entered their final song, ‘Starlight Sirens’. Boys. Who can figure them out? Illyana pondered. Jubilee began to hysterically scream, clutching at Illyana, then Dani, then back on Illyana, her typical wad of bubblegum flying out of her mouth. This brought both girls out of their private moments, and back to the reality of the backstage chaos. “What?!” they both cried, looking at Jubilee in shock. “I love this song!” the mutant mall-rat cried, “We’ve got to get onstage and dance!” Jubilee charged forward, her hands yanking both Illyana and Dani with her. Dani reached out and grabbed Shan, as Magik clutched for Cypher and missed. Doug waved, mocking sympathy for the Russian mutant, with an evil glint in his eye. Amara Aquilla stepped forward, minus any prodding, as the gaggle of ladies made their way over to the stage edge. Jubilee stopped, turned around, and stomped back. “I don’t think so, girlfriend,” Jubilee yelled, grabbing Tabitha’s arm and pulling her towards the stage against her will. Doug wandered over to Bobby and Sam. “I’m in heaven.” Sunspot sighed as the scantily clad females approached Guido standing guard stage side. “Madre mios, I’m in heaven.” Bobby never allowed his eyes to move from the estrogen display before him. ***** Doug stared at his friend, then at what he was staring at slack-jawed. “I always saw heaven as having less drool in it.” He laughed, playfully punching Bobby in the arm as Sam laughed as well. “Hey, Doug, you seen Longshot lately?” Cannonball asked. “Yeah, he was right over…there.” Doug spun and pointed towards the snack table set up for the roadies. There were a few backstage pass groupies milling around the crew, but the mullet headed inter-dimensional traveler was not there. “Well, he was. He wandered over to grab a bite to eat just before they let the early groupies backstage after the opening band finished.” “You let him wander away?” Sam looked mortified, “Free food, free booze, and cheap skanks on the prowl… and you let him go?” “Well, when you put it that way…” Doug shrugged, “Look, I didn’t know we had to baby-sit Ali’s beau-hunk. I know he’s a little naïve and slow, but…” “Dude,” Bobby interjected, “I have no idea why, but the Sp-Ed case is like a total chick magnet!” Doug looked amused as Sam looked confused. “Sp-Ed case?” “Sp-Ed…Special Education.” Bobby crossed his eyes, and bucked his teeth. “D-duh…” “Bobby, you need some fucking therapy.” Sam shook his head, as Doug laughed even harder. “Sp-Ed case. Damn, boy.” Sam chuckled. “Alright, so what are we gonna do about Longshot?” “Ain’t my problem.” Sunspot shook his head, waving his hands in a denial. “Hombre can take care of himself. Me, I’m ‘going flyin’ with my starlight siren’!” Bobby strode away from his two friends, his motions mocking a stage diva going for the big finish, a boy-band dance strut that would indicate to any who saw him, here was a ‘playah’ to be reckoned with. Sam and Doug watched in absolute disbelief. “Were we going to join him, Sam?” “Naw, ah don’t think so. Guys like us, rednecks and computer geeks, we don’t look right dancing to this stuff.” Sam chuckled. “You wanna help me find Longshot real quick like?” “Sure, Sam.” Doug shrugged, running his hand through his hair, “I guess the two of us can be the responsible ones.” “Spoken like a future team leader, Doug.” “Me? You really think so?” Cypher asked, cocking an eyebrow in disbelief. “Sure, pal. You got all the fixings to be a great team leader.” Sam said, slapping his hand around Doug’s shoulder, and steering them around to begin to search the backstage area for the missing xXx-Man. “Brains, a powerful and headstrong ‘hottie’ for a girlfriend, and the team likes and respects you. That’s more than I had when the position was given to me by the Professor.” “What about everyone else, Sam?” Doug said, thumbing back towards the stage. “Aren’t they going to miss us as well?” “We’ll catch up, as soon as we find Longshot. Do you think that Lila or Tabitha or Illyana are going to let either of us get away so easily?” Sam laughed, as his eyes searched the milling crowd. “No, I guess not,” Doug laughed as well, “Where should we start looking?” “Let’s start around the buffet table. Free food is like bait with Longshot.” Sam smiled. The stage lights were bright, and the play set had been quite the long and tiring one. Once upon a time, musicians wrote their own music, and merely performed it to an attentive and appreciative audience. Nowadays, it seemed, musicians no longer created musical melodies, instead being relegated to performing prefabricated cloned songs of whatever seemed to be the big corporate push for the week. During the late 80’s and 90’s it was having the letters ‘MC’ or “DJ’ attached to a nickname that had something to do with Ice or an animal, and songs had to do with drinking, gang fighting, or pimping ‘ho’s’. If it wasn’t that, then you were required to wear plaid, and grunt out your songs, drinking coffee and shooting heroin. This was, of course, if you were male. If you were a female rocker, then you had to be a guitar-playing lesbian to get airplay, or an overrated ‘diva’, belching out hypersonic notes that made dogs wince in pain. ***** Alison Blaire was none of these. Ali, also known as the Dazzler, was a very talented singer and songwriter who had the unfortunate luck of hitting it big just as disco died. The solid white cat suit, the classic style roller skates, and the Olivia Newton-John haircut were passé mere moments after Ali landed her first headliner. Anyone else may have been destroyed by such circumstances, but the resilient young female mutant singer refused to be a ‘one hit wonder’. She also refused to sell out, to avoid becoming a mere flavor-of-the-week pop star. It cost her. It cost her a lot. From filling stadiums, she went back to the club scene, playing smaller venues, but happy in being able to be herself. It was then Roman approached her. He was an infamous producer, wanting to film “Dazzler: The Movie”. Ali had come out of the closet; so to speak, caving in to Roman’s request to reveal herself as a mutant to the world at large. The plan by the shrewd producer ended up backfiring. The publicity was great, but it turned ugly quickly. Ali’s career peaked, the movie tanked, although its later release on VHS and eventually DVD, granted it instant cult classic status. Needless to say, Ali never really saw those profits, since the after movie market hadn’t been truly explored when she had signed the contracts. xXx-Men:Man Mutant Cyborg 24/7 Ch. 03 It was then that she, after avoiding active super-heroics for several years, finally made her way to the xXx-Mansion, and received an invitation to join up with Lila Cheney and her interstellar rock and roll band. Ali’s smooth and soft vocals combined with Lila’s rough and tumble edge proved to be a hit. Some folks touted them as the 21st century mutant version of ‘Heart’. It was not a bad rep to have, musically speaking. As musical tastes changed, Ali found that being a mutant performer suddenly was falling into vogue. The opening band that Lila used often, a hardcore speed metal band called ‘Mutatis’ consisted solely of mutants. Just when Ali thought that her life was finally getting some stability and regularity, a new xXx-Man joined the team. His name was Longshot, and in truth, he wasn’t actually a mutant, in the traditional sense of the word. He was a dreamy hunk from a parallel dimension, a place ruled by spineless monsters who kept the native populace enslaved and controlled by a society that revolved around telecommunications. The mullet wearing blonde was naïve, compared to the more jaded inhabitants of this universe, but his heart was good, his nature heroic. Ali had been smitten nearly instantly. Truth to be known, Ali wasn’t the only female at the xXx-Mansion who had a thing for the transplanted warrior, but she managed to get his returned affections. The disturbing simple truth of Longshot’s desire towards Dazzler had less to do with her enticing personality and natural beauty, and more to do with her chosen vocation. He had grown up in a society dominated and driven by media. Of all the ladies dwelling within at the Xavier Institute, only Alison Blaire had made a movie, and had numerous appearances on MTV. In other words, Alison was a media celebrity, and in Longshot’s world, that made her akin to nobility, superior to everyone else, and far more appealing to his tender attentions. Of course, Dazzler was blissfully unaware of this fact, and if one asked Longshot, he himself would be ignorant of his subconscious motivations. At this moment, however, Alison was too busy to think about her love life. The song was ripping along, and her duet with the contrastingly dark haired Lila Cheney was nearing it’s climax. The long and loud concert had pummeled the Dazzler with a nearly constant dosage of high-energy sound waves, the amplifiers cranking out thousands of watts of pure energetic sound. Ali had been soaking up the ambient power, feeling the hum tingling through her flesh, and allowing it to bleed out as a soft gentle glowing light that gave her an unmistakable iridescent presence upon the stage, glistening droplets of sweat sparkling with their own radiance. Ali wiped her brow, as she turned towards Lila, their choreographed dance routine mirroring the favorite music video that they had filmed for the album’s debut. Arm cross, arm cross, step, kick, step, glide step. Like clockwork, the two mutant singers moved in synchronicity. Twist, step, arm snap, arm snap, twist, turn. Now, face to face with each other, and to do the final chorus. The dancers they had hired, despite Lila’s disgust at having non-musicians sharing her stage and giving the tour a ‘pop star’ feel, set into place for the final dance routine. From the stage edge, Ali saw over Lila’s shoulder the students of Xavier’s run out to join them onstage. That all the girls were coming out was no surprise, especially with Jubilee’s love of the song, but seeing Sunspot with them nearly made Dazzler burst out laughing. Sure, the Brazilian mutant had the grace of a dancer, and knew the moves, performing them flawlessly…but this was a chick empowerment song! Was Bobby actually gay? Dazzler stifled the silly thought, nearly laughing out loud and losing her train of thought during the song. Bobby was a true horn dog, sniffing at everything that had a pussy, humping your leg if you didn’t watch out. A guy like that couldn’t have a gay bone in his body. Ali knew men, having been on the road, touring, most of her adult life. She could spot a Gay Ray a mile off, she assured herself, and Bobby didn’t show on the radar. At last, the crescendo of the song, Ali mused. All she was looking forward to was a nice hot shower, some socializing with the Nude Mutants, and a nice long relaxing night of sex with the blonde beau-hunk called Longshot. Seeing the sweat dripping off of Lila, Dazzler knew that her band-mate had similar aspirations. Lila Cheney locked eyes with Alison Blaire. The corner of her mouth curled into a wicked smile, looking upon the glistening and glittering feminine form of the Dazzler, when a sudden urge swept over her, and she decided to end tonight’s big performance with a little show for Sam. As they finally ended the last note, Lila drew the glowing Alison close, crushing her small breasts against Alison’s larger set, raked her left hand through Dazzler’s sweat-sticky shorn blonde hair, sweeping it back out of her face, and planted a kiss on her pink lips. Alison froze for a second, taken by surprise. It was then that Lila felt the reaction, as Dazzler responded and kissed her back, and even more surprising, slipped Lila the tongue, as she exploded into a brilliant burst of prismatic light, just as the fireworks and Jubilee fired off, screaming and dancing. The stage lights cut off, dousing everything into darkness. The crowd went nuts, roaring for more, flashbulbs transforming the sudden darkness into a disconcerting strobe light funhouse. Lila felt Alison keep a hold of her hand, pulling her towards the side of the stage. Alison’s free hand acted a flashlight, illuminating their path, a soft shaft of light beaming ahead of them. Lila was slightly confused by Alison’s response to the kiss. Lila’s intention was to give the fans something to talk about, and the added bonus of revving Sam up for the fun she had planned later that evening. Alison’s passionate return of the kiss had gotten Lila thinking. She thought Alison was very cute. She could understand her appeal to their fans. Buxom, blonde, petite, a dancer’s body but softer, and a heart-melting soprano voice. Lila hadn’t even considered getting involved with Alison until the kiss. The tour was a long one, and it had been a long time since Lila had fooled around with another chick, and never with one that was a member of the band. Lila was curious whether or not Alison was merely looking to get her into bed with Longshot and Dazzler, for a little Ménage a Trois, or maybe she was hoping to have Sam along as well. Alison guided them to the side of the stage, shooing the celebrating Nude Mutants off as well. Dazzler looked at Bobby once again, and stifled a laugh. Naw, he’s got to be straight. “You guys give the best show,” Jubilee gushed, sounding much like any other groupie found backstage. “That was absolute genius, that transition from ‘Shi’ar Bop’ to ‘Starlight Sirens’. You guys need to release a live CD or DVD with that mix on it!” “Yeah, I’d love to have the footage of that song ending! That was so hot! It looked for real, chicas.” Bobby laughed, raising one eyebrow. “That part of the show was meant for Sam,” Lila quietly told Sunspot as everyone reached where their seats had been set up. “Speaking of Sam, where is the hillbilly?” Lila looked around in the chaos, as the roadies went to work on the task of packing the entire stage show up for transport. “That ending sure showed me a very different interpretation of ‘Starlight Sirens’,” Karma remarked, walking casually between Alison and Dani. “I’m sure the tabloids are going to run with the lesbian angle. What made you two decide to end it like that?” Alison fanned herself, while wiping the sweat off her brow and chest, turned towards the Vietnamese mutant. “You have to ask Lila. All I know is that I was being kissed.” “It looked like you were enjoying it.” Dani Moonstar smiled, winking at Shan. Dazzler shrugged. “I don’t know what came over me. Just got caught up in the moment I guess,” Alison laughed. Shan noticed that Dazzler’s ample breasts were sporting rock hard nipples, the material of her costume plastered over her damp sweaty form. In truth, Alison could not figure out why she had so passionately kissed Lila. Lila smiled the cat-eating-the-canary smile, and then slammed a lip lock on her. As she rationalized the motivation, a publicity stunt or something, suddenly she found her body kissing Lila back with a passion and intimate manner, her mind seeming to be a mere passenger in her own body. Not that it was a bad experience, she thought, though I wish my body had asked me first. She wondered what Lila must be thinking about her reaction to the simple kiss. I French kissed her. I drove my tongue down her throat like we’d been intimate for years. What came over me? Dani nudged Shan as they moved towards the table set up with drinks for the band, away from the puzzled and aroused Alison Blaire. “Ethically speaking, that was wrong.” “What? Me? I wouldn’t do that.” Karma smirked, blushing. “But you know I can’t resist a good girl-girl moment.” ***** “I’m sure you’ll get all the girl-girl moments you want when we play ‘Truth or Dare’ with everyone else later.” Dani Moonstar plucked a glass off the table, “With you around, I’m sure that everyone will go through with their Dares, fearing you’ll take control of them and make them do it anyway.” “Fearing me in Truth or Dare, Dani?” Shan laughed, helping herself to a drink, “That’s kind of funny, considering that everyone dreads playing with you because you can manifest their deepest desires and fears for everyone to see, making sure that they can’t lie about their Truths.” “What…me? I wouldn’t do that,” Dani smirked, mocking Karma’s astonishment from only a few seconds ago. She nudged Shan, and nodded towards Dazzler. Alison had also grabbed a drink, a litre bottle of water, drinking half, and then pouring the rest of it over her head and body. The clinging material of her spandex outfit went from being the sweaty damp covering to a soaking wet second skin, nearly translucent in the rising backstage lights. “I needed that,” Dazzler said to Lila, then looked around, “Where’s Longshot?” “I saw him heading towards Mutatis’ party, farther backstage,” Ken Randal, the band’s stage manager piped up, approaching the group, the oversized headset and clipboard making him look more like a football coach calling plays to the field. “Great show tonight, Ali, Lila. Loved that finale.” Lila laughed. “I’m sure you did. Did you notice the platform arm sticking during ‘Thief of My Heart’? I nearly fell because it jerked during the rise.” Lila grabbed a drink off the table, slugging it down. “Yeah,” Ken tapped his clipboard, “Already noted. It’ll be fixed before Madison Square Garden on Thursday. Your trailers are prepped, showers waiting. and the roadies are packing. The caterers have set up a feast that makes Mutatis’ shindig look tame. Any questions? Concerns?” Ken waited for a second, both Ali and Lila shaking their heads. “Enjoy yourselves, ladies, we’ll be on the road before noon, gods willing.” Ken began to head off, his cell phone ringing as he started to go. “You kids enjoy the show?” “It was great,” Magma offered, a shy smile gracing her noble-born face, curly golden ringlets framing her high rosy cheeks. “Although I did not care for the opening act. I am not a fan of what you call speed metal.” “Good. Good.” Ken said, plucking the ringing cell phone from his hip, not really paying attention to what the beautiful young blonde mutant had to say. “Randal here. Go ahead...” He began to talk excitedly into the tiny communication device as he walked away. “Anyone seen Sam?” Lila asked again. Roberto, having grabbed a soda and chugged it, held up a finger as he swallowed. “I think he went to look for Longshot with Doug,” Sunspot finally said, burping quietly into his fist. “At least, I think so. I left them here to dance with the chicas onstage.” Bobby winked at Lila, as his gaze wandered over to the two dozen dancers shuffling offstage, his eyes growing wide. “Don’t drool, Bobby. It’s not polite.” Lila chided him. “But they are soooo fine, Lila. Can you introduce me to them?” Bobby begged, giving the rock star puppy dog eyes. “Um…no,” Lila quickly answered. “I promised to protect them from potential stalkers. Now, you want to find Sam, Doug and Longshot and bring them to the trailers, I might change my mind.” “Aw, man. Do I have to?” Bobby groaned. “I’ll have Guido help you. How’s that?” Lila offered. “C’mon, shorty. Let’s find the boys.” Strong Guy grabbed Sunspot by the shoulders and steered him backstage, protesting. “The sooner we find them, the sooner we get to enjoy the party. Capice?” “He’s so big…” Amara said softly to Jubilee and Illyana as the two men wandered off deep backstage in search of the missing boyfriends. “He’s kind of scary.” “Guido? Scary?” Illyana laughed. “He’s not scary, he’s a big softy. Ask Lila. Now my Sym, he’s a big scary mother-fucker.” “You can say that again,” Jubilee whistled. “How you can stand having that creepy freakazoid around you is beyond me.” ****** “Oh, I don’t know. There’s something to be said for having a big muscle-bound monster who scares the shit out of everyone and who will do anything you tell him to hanging around.” Illyana smiled evilly. “And I do mean anything.” Jubilee held up her hand and turned her head. “That’s T.M.I., girlfriend, and personally, makes me want to hurl.” “Mind out of the gutter, mallrat.” Illyana hissed through a gritted smile. “Your perversity is showing. Been outback in the desert lately?” Jubilee shot Illyana an icy glare. Jubilation Lee knew exactly what Illyana was referring to. Back when she first came across the xXx-Men, a cyborg named Donald Pierce had assembled a team called the Reavers. Each Reaver had a bone to pick with the man called Wolverine, to put it mildly. Jubilee found the grizzled and abused Logan, on display in the public square of an old abandoned Australian mining town, stripped naked of his clothes and mental faculties, baking under the summer sun. She had saved his life, and in turn, the feral and animalistic old man took her virginity, ravaging her every night and day for over two weeks. Outback took on a double meaning, and it was rumored that Jubilee loved every last minute of it. For this, and the fact that she modeled her xXx-Men outfit after the only famous sidekick she’d remembered seeing on that old campy TV show, Robin, the Boy Wonder, from Batman, every so often, she got to hear “Pow!” “Biff!” “Bam!” plus the occasional pig squealing during training workouts with the Nude Mutants. Let Illyana have her laughs. I’m a full-fledged xXx-Man. “Where’s your boyfriend, Illyana?” Jubilee asked the russian teleporter smugly. “Where’s yours?” Illyana smiled evilly back. Jubilee pursed her lips tightly, then grabbed Magma’s arm. “Let’s go and look around, Amara. Spooky is being a bitch tonight.” Jubilee dragged off the Nova Roma daughter. “Ummm…see you later, Illyana.” Amara shrugged, and slipped away with Jubilee into the milling throng, towards the band’s trailers. “Catch you at the trailers.” Dani and Shan slid over to where Illyana was standing, staring intently at the Asian and Roman walking away from her. “That girl needs a good rough ass fucking to straighten her snooty upper west side attitude out.” “I could arrange for her to volunteer for that.” Shan offered, her companions unsure of just how serious she was being. “Although I was always under the impression that it was because she was such an anal slut that she became the snooty xXx-Man that she is today?” “Are you sure she’s referring to ‘Miss Galleria’, Shan?” Dani asked smiling sweetly. “She could have easily been referring to ‘Miss Coliseum’.” As much as Jubilee flaunted her first string xXx-Man status to the so-called junior xXx-team, it was equally annoying to put up with the naïve spoiled daughter of the most important senator of the insignificant isolated ancient Roman colony of Nova Roma. Fact: Amara Aquilla was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, held aloft by the House slaves (tastefully referred to as servants in the household, since slave is such a crude word). The young blonde Lady of the House had never performed a menial act of labor in her life, until it was discovered that she was far more than just a simple noble-born, her very essence commanding the molten fury of the very planet itself. The Cult of Selene, who would one day take the mantle of Black Queen, replacing the Dark Phoenix in the infamous Hellfire Club’s Lords Cardinal Inner Circle, began to take an active interest in her. For safekeeping, Amara was sent into the world beyond Nova Roma’s protected borders, unknowingly unleashing the vicious Selene upon an unsuspecting world. It had been centuries since the world had felt the tender mercies of a legendary being such as Selene, and the psychic vampire knew the time was right to return. Although the wonders of the modern age had seemed to distract Selene’s hunt of Magma, both knew that their paths would cross again. It was only a matter of time. Illyana stifled a giggle at Dani’s catty comment. She had never heard Amara called ‘Miss Coliseum’ before, but she could see how the nickname would be fitting. “Doesn’t matter which one she meant.” Karma dismissed her point. “Either snob could be made to take Illyana’s Soul Sword up the ass, and as deftly as the Mistress of Limbo is reputed to be wielding it, pathetically begging for more.” ***** “Someone sounds jealous.” Dani chided her. “Not me.” Shan shook her head. “You are talking to the girl who can mentally possess anyone. I know what it feels like to masturbate a man’s borrowed cock as if it were my own, or fuck anyone I want simply by taking over their chosen partner and initiating a roll in the hay, and no one is ever the wiser.” “Remind me to be as far from you as possible when I have an intimate moment planned,” Illyana said softly, “even with the compliment on my skills with the Soul Sword. You aren’t speaking from first hand experience, are you?” “I’ll never tell.” Karma laughed. Dazzler wandered over to the three girls, Lila joining them as well. “Come on, girls. Let’s get to the trailers. Lila and I have to wash this sweat off, then I hear that you all have ideas about entertainment for the after show party.” Alison announced, grabbing a towel off the stage-side table. Lila nodded. “Besides, we don’t want the guys to get there before we do.” Lila said, “Bobby hits that spread before we do, there won’t be one munchie left.” As the group of girls was herded backstage, Alison stopped, noticing that Tabitha was standing off by herself, looking intently into the crowds. Dazzler made her way back to the forlorn looking blonde mutant. Cupping Boom-Boom’s shoulder, Alison asked if anything was wrong. “No, nothing…” Tabitha trailed off, looking off towards Lila. “Well, if you want to talk about it, I’ll listen. You and I, we have more in common than you think.” Alison winked at her, smiling. Tabitha looked back at the sound converting mutant, confused. “Ask me later.” The two fair-haired mutants wandered behind the rest of the group, heading to the trailers. Bobby grumbled walking next to Guido. “I should be chasing chicas, hombre. Not cruising for guys.” “They are your friends, Sunspot.” Strong Guy pointed out. “You should be happy to go find them.” “I’d rather be scooping chicas, hombre.” Sunspot got an idea. “Hey!” He grabbed onto a passing roadie. “You seen a guy with a blonde mullet, dressed in all leather, and looking like a boy toy?” “Fag!” the big burly man spat, and began to walk away. xXx-Men:Man Mutant Cyborg 24/7 Ch. 03 “Hey, he’s not for me!” Bobby yelled, annoyed. “He’s Alison Blaire’s boyfriend...” The Brazilian mutant’s voice trailed off as the man continued to walk on, ignoring him. “Fucking puta.” “Let me handle the next one, slugger.” Guido laughed. His large hand reached out and clasped the shoulder of another passing roadie. “Excuse me. Have you seen a blonde poofter looking leather boy with a stupid look on his face?” “Weird. You’re the second person to ask about this guy. Sure, man.” The guy gestured over to the Mutatis’ trailer. “I saw him go around the back of that trailer with some platinum blonde groupie. That was a while ago.” “Thanks, pal.” Guido released the roadie’s shoulder. “Not exactly what I wanted to hear, but you just made my night a whole lot easier. You see two blonde guys, one tall, one scrawny, as well?” “Yeah, man. That’s who was asking about the leather boy.” The roadie laughed. “Thanks a lot.” Guido stuffed a $20 bill into the man’s pocket. Bobby looked up at the towering figure of Strong Guy. “That pisses me off, hombre.” Sunspot grumbled again. “How come you can ask, no problem. I ask, and all I can get is attitude.” “Part charisma, part machismo, my little Brazilian buddy.” Guido Carosella beamed. “Now, shaddup and let’s find out why Longshot would go off with some platinum blonde groupie when he’s supposed to be Dazzler’s main squeeze.” ****** “Good question, Strong Guy.” Roberto replied, “This groupie chica must be mighty fine to sway the ‘himbo’ from someone as sexy as the Dazzler.” The two rounded the corner of the trailer, dodging the various groups of people milling around in random states of altered consciousness. The atmosphere was one of bacchanal carnage and decadent excess. Beyond the trailer, it seemed a quiet hideaway, compared to the main concourse. Either mutant could see no one. “I think we’ve been duped,” Roberto said. “Shhhh…did you hear that?” Strong Guy asked, straining his ears. It was the sound of moaning, a male by the sound of it. It was coming from a side hallway exit from the structure, a fire exit. Bobby nodded that he also heard it, and the two began to sneak over to the hallway to investigate. There, beyond a folded riser assembly stored in the hallway on one side, Sam’s short crew cut could be seen sticking up above the obstruction. “Hey! What are you doing, Sam?” Sunspot yelled, marching down the hall towards his friend. “Where are Doug and Longshot? The girls are waiting for us, hombre!” Cannonball seemed to have a far away look on his face, nearly slack-jawed, vacant eyes slowly swiveling over towards Guido and Bobby, and then returning to stare at whatever was in front of him, concealed by the riser, with no response, as if he hadn’t even noticed that his friend was even there. “Yo, Sam!” Guido called out, again trying to get the hillbilly mutant to acknowledge them. No avail. “Fucking A, Sam,” Bobby swore, “what the fuck are you doing back here?” It was then that Bobby and Guido got close enough to see what was happening behind the riser. Sam, Doug and Longshot were all standing around in a circle, between them, upon her knees, was the platinum blonde female. Each man had his pants pulled down, erect cocks jutting towards her, her slender long fingers wrapped around each, with her head bobbing off of each cock, seemingly at random. “Man, what the fuck! Each of you fuckwads have a girlfriend here, and I can’t even get a minute to talk to any of the dancers!” Sunspot swore, jealousy rearing its ugly head. The platinum blonde looked up past the men she was servicing, locking eyes with Roberto DaCosta. “I’m a very good dancer. If you want a piece of the action, come here, my little Latin lover,” she purred, reaching a hand out towards him. The girl was dressed in a most unusual fashion, tight black latex fitted as if a second skin, her pierced nipples, silver studs flashing in the fluorescent light, protruding from the slits cut into the clinging bustier. Her pussy, shaved clean, peeked out from the crotch-less latex panties that she wore, lips moist. She was beautiful, of that, no doubt. Her icy blue eyes seemed to cut right to Sunspot’s very core. He wanted her. Fumbling with his belt, he loosened his pants, her hand caressing the growing bulge contained within. He was so enamored with the concept of her pouting lips locking onto his growing member, he didn’t even think about the fact that she was stroking every last man there…at the same time. “Bobby?” Guido attempted to get his attention, but like the others, he seemed completely enraptured by the kneeling beauty that was now stroking his straining cock. “Bobby, she has six arms.” “And three holes…more than enough to service all of you at one time, and in many ways.” The platinum blonde coyly suggested. “Come to me, Guido Carosella, and let me give you the loving that you have always wanted, but could only dream about.” One hand snaked out, her motions fluid and hypnotic, enticing the oversized mutant towards her. “These others, they will enjoy the pleasures of my hands and my lips, but for you…I have something better. I want your cock in my pussy, Strong Guy.” Guido was startled by this wanton display. Band groupies were a rowdy and loose lot, but this was something new for him. Most ladies drew the line when facing the seven plus feet tall misshapen frame of Strong Guy, fearing his massive girth. He wasn’t the best-looking john on the block, that was a given, but he had a heart of gold, and anyone who bothered to get to know him figured this out. Gruff exterior aside, Guido was a regular softie who just wanted someone in his life who could accept him for what he was. The apish form of Strong Guy stepped closer. The beautiful platinum blonde with six arms looked familiar, but Guido couldn’t place her face. Maybe that was because her exposed tits with their pierced nipples were distracting him. A hand drifted across his belt buckle, unlatching it, as another hand caressed the growing bulge in his tight pants. ***** “You should free that nice cock, Guido. Let me see it,” the white haired lass cooed. Strong Guy hesitated for merely a second, before his oversized hands quickly fumbled at the button-fly latch of his shiny tight pleather pants. Her nimble fingers dragged long manicured fingernails across the bottom of his veined member as it stood pointed to the sky, tracing their way slowly upward, fingers wrapping around the purplish head of his cock, pulling it downwards towards her waiting mouth. Her triangular pink tongue licked the slit before her pouting lips engulfed his engorged member. Guido groaned as she sucked his cock, her slick saliva coating his penis, one hand stroking the base of his shaft, her mouth encircling his head, as she slurped the man-meat down her hungry throat. His hips, bucking forward of their own accord, thrust his iron hard member deep into her face. Her throat swallowed and opened wide, gulping the flesh tube down even further, sucking upon his swollen helmet. Bliss. Utter bliss. This blowjob was even better than anything his masseuse, Babette, had ever given him. Roberto DaCosta exhaled sharply, the platinum blonde’s nimble hand sliding and slipping along his rigid Brazilian shaft, another of her hands caressing the inner thighs and his scrotum, working its way upwards into his ass-crack. Julia, his first true love, perhaps because he lost his virginity to her, had made him a firm fan of fellatio and hand jobs, but what this backstage band slut was doing to him was nearing on the inhuman and obscene. Sunspot felt incredibly turned on, and willing to do anything the groupie wanted, so long as she kept touching his dick. Sam Guthrie couldn’t believe it. Tabitha Smith. Lila Cheney. Now, this incredible platinum blonde girl. Back home, even before he started working the mines, Sam was always the gangly gawky beanpole. Girls didn’t throw themselves at him like this. Never have. The only girls he ever got to get close to were his sisters, the rest of the female population in his rural hometown either had other boys in mind for their attentions, or wanted men, not boys. Ever since taking Charles Xavier’s invitation to attend his School for Gifted Youngsters, girls flocked to him like a magnet. Even when he returned home, there were girls who never gave him the time of day when he was living two miles from them, now suddenly wanting to get to know him intimately even though he was living a thousand miles away. Boyhood fantasies, all for his taking. That would be the case, had he not been the shy and awkward type. For some strange reason, unless he was totally relaxed around them and knew the girls well, Sam seemed incapable of speaking coherently. There were so many things he could say, but for some reason, he found them getting all jumbled together, and spewing out at the oddest moments. If it weren’t for the fact that he had no problems speaking to anyone that he wasn’t attracted to, his doctor surely would have labeled him attention deficit disorder, or said he was a stutterer. Douglas Ramsey was amazed. This platinum blonde dominatrix dressed mystery woman they found blowing Longshot was incredible with her mouth, tongue and hands. They literally danced, spiraling across his blonde stiffy, and from his many experiences with Illyana, he could swear he could feel a sense of similar magic about them. All he knew at this point was her long slender fingers played his skin flute with all the passionate precision of a maestro. Illyana was a sexual super-freak, but what this chick apparently knew about the human penis, and how to milk every possible delectable sensation from it, she could teach the young Russian nymph a lesson or two. Longshot was in a state of nirvana. Unaware of anything beyond the sensations that were emanating from his other-dimensional borne dick, the man they referred to, as “Daz’s himbo,” was blissfully unaware of the presence of the other late arriving mutant males getting the same cock-stroking service he was. Alison didn’t have this much skill, nor did Ricochet Rita. This hot little platinum blonde number was a master of unsurpassed skill in the art of cocksucking. He had been on the verge of cumming for the greater part of an hour now, and still she teased his prick more, almost as if she knew just how close she could actually get without pushing him over the edge into ecstatic orgasmic oblivion. The platinum blonde six-armed groupie looked at each of the mutant men surrounding her. Each of them bedazzled and enthralled by her talented ministrations, oblivious to the mounting energies now rising about them, only concerned with the mounting rise of semen in their own cocks. She smiled, before slipping another cock into her mouth. This hunt had been long, and hard, much like these pricks, but at last she had her man, and four horny mutants of the accursed xXx-Men. Her Master would be pleased with her. Maybe he would even give her the rebel, Longshot, to do with what she would. Anything less would be a terrible waste of such a perfectly good specimen of boy-toy beau-hunk beefcake. It bothered her that the large one, Guido Carosella, had somehow managed to see through the illusions she had woven around herself, but fortunately his sexual frustration was greater than his moral authority, and she was able to distract him into submission. It would not do to have her plans beset by last minute heroics. When the two blonde mutants called Cannonball and Cypher interrupted her capture of Longshot, she had to change her plans to include them as well. Her Master would be pleased. Then when Sunspot and Strong Guy showed up, she had to change plans again. Fortunately, her Master had made her to capable of the task at hand, if one would pardon the pun. A few more moments to collect the inter-dimensional energy, a few more gestures to manipulate them, and the fate of these Earthlings would be sealed. She would be victorious, and the rebel would be captured and returned home. “Cum for me, my lovers. Cum for Spiral,” she laughed, yanking on their wangs, releasing the cosmic energy she had been collecting, and shunting all of them through time and space. Longshot’s eyes rolled up and back within his skull, his breathing ragged and labored, his long slender cock streaming a silken rope of hot jism at the six armed extra-dimensional terrorist and enforcer. Cannonball gasped, and a nervous giggle of relief escaped his lips as the sensations cascading through his cock reached a mind-blowing crescendo, firing multiple spurts onto the tight black leather bodice of the strange woman. Cypher grunted, a staccato rapid-fire blast of ‘uh’ that was accented by his wildly bucking hips and a machinegun spattering of semen. Sunspot moaned as he felt the fingers tickling at his ass penetrate his pinched brown-eye, sinking up to the first knuckle, ripping his orgasm from him, as the seemingly insatiable nymphet band slut milked his dark hard shaft for every last drop of man-juice that he could produce. Strong Guy’s thick slab of tube-steak twitched like it had a mind of its own as the massive mutant let out a long low guttural growl of satisfaction, cumming in such a large amount, it coated the prostrated Spiral in a thick slather of white creamy goo. “I did not know you were such a fan of bukkake, Spiral,” a gravelly nasal voice barked loudly with more than a hint of melodramatic madness, bringing all the mutants quickly out of their post-orgasmic funk. “S-spiral?!?” Sam, Bobby and Longshot nearly cried out in unison, jumping back. Guido and Doug quickly turned to see the source of the newest voice, coming to the realization that they were no longer backstage at the concert anymore. The landscape was strange; everything had a quality of perhaps being a stage setting, more than an actual place, but it’s resemblance to the backstage hallway behind the trailer was amazing. The lighting was odd as well, seeming to be spotlights shining down upon the surprised and startled mutants surrounding the cum-soaked six-armed figure of Spiral, their sources far out of view. The lights rose within the darkened windows of the trailer, as the very side of the structure shifted, opening up the side to reveal a master control room, much like that of a television station. The darkened chamber beyond the thick glass shielding suddenly lit up with bright lights revealing… “Major Domo, if you please.” The smiling face whispered feverishly. “Oooooh, I just love a dramatic entrance, don’t you?” “Ladies and Gentlemen,” large speakers mounted on the outside of the trailer/master control room roared loudly. “There’s no lady present. Spiral is a slave, you blathering idiot.” The villain muttered. “I should neuter you for that.” “*ahem*” the speakers apparently cleared its throat, “Gentlemen… and cum soaked slave that is known as Spiral…” the voice fumbled, then went on, “preeeeesenting the highly-rated super-sized Oscar-nominated series-premiering mountainous monstrosity of motorized madness himself, Mojo, Master of all he sees!” “Am I surrounded by incompetence?!?” the large bulbous form roared, grabbing Major Domo by the head and lifting him by a long spindly arm to face his furious mechanically-ratcheted smiling face. “You forgot spineless, pleasingly plump, and breathtakingly beautiful. Now it’s all ruined!” The yellow skinned bloated being squeezed tightly, crushing Major Domo’s head as he shook the struggling form, snapping his thin neck, and tossing him across the length of the trailer. Mojo sighed heavily, shaking his head. “One can’t make an impressive first appearance in a story twice, and you blew it. I’m anti-climatic, literally speaking.” One long clawed finger pressed decisively down upon a call button upon the spidery mechanical chair that he was perched in. “Miss Sextoy!” he barked. “Yes, Master Mojo?” the sultry female voice responded immediately. “Order me a new Major Domo from the Home Shopping For Slaves Network. Make this one a blonde, and witty, and have it sent to me Express Priority.” Mojo said gleefully, clasping his hands together. “Very good, Master. Is there any other way I may be of service to you?” the voice chimed from the mechanical chair. “Well, I do feel lint in my bellybutton, and I can’t seem to reach it.” The massive obese yellow monstrosity said thoughtfully, long spindly arms scratching his large rotund belly. “Perhaps you can lick it out for me later, in my palatial bedroom. Say, 6ish.” “As you wish, my Master.” The voice replied. Mojo looked up towards the group that Spiral had transported to his realm, giggling. Cypher had stepped away from everyone else, placing the heavy hitters between himself and Mojo’s loyalists. Sunspot had triggered his power, his body form fading into darkness as he manifested his super-strength. It was a foolish ploy, considering the time of day it had last been for the solar powered mutant. It had been over six hours since he had last been exposed to the last of the waning daylight, and exerting himself dancing and such over the course of the concert had sapped a lot of his collective strength. Cannonball had triggered his mutant so-called blast field, the soft low hum of it only verifying what the slight glow about his figure hinted. Strong Guy held a wary position between Spiral and Mojo, edging closer to Cypher, apparently being aware that he was best suited to defend Doug from attack. Any attack against him would be transformed into pure strength, to be turned back upon his attacker. The rebel Longshot stared warily at Spiral. “What do you want, Mojo?” Sam demanded. ***** “Many things, little mutant.” Mojo laughed in answer. “A ’63 Split T Corvette. The Complete Brady Bunch on DVD. An exclusive theme song. One of those little tiny plastic things that---” “I think that he meant ‘What do you want with the xXx-Men’, O Large One.” Spiral suggested. “Porn.” Mojo barked, beaming proudly, crossing his arms. “Porn…?” Doug raised an eyebrow. “Specifically, mutant porn.” Spiral offered. Mojo triggered the thick Plexiglas separating him from the newly arrived mutants to lift away as well, as the mechanical chair began to crawl towards them. “You see, my soon to be mutant porn stars,” Mojo explained. “I had a good thing going when I brought the teeming masses some action adventure starring the rebel, Longshot. Then, I discovered you mutants. You’ve become a hot little commodity that has cemented me two nights a week as the king of programming. I then thought to myself, ‘Self,’ I said, ‘Why not expand your market share to the Saturday Morning Cartoon time slots?’ Thus, my unequalled genius created the xXx-Babies. As cute as they were, the series ratings turned sour with the Age of Apocalypse story arc. Apparently mass murdering, genocide, betrayal, and a millennium long villainous triumph aren’t ready for treatment on Saturday mornings. The show got shelved, until I figured out that a cult following from the late night crowd was possible.” Mojo skittered across the concrete flooring; metallic legs of his chair clicking like a two-ton beetle. “So, one night, while watching that hilarious cutting edge reality show, ‘World’s Funniest Plastic Surgery Bloopers’ I had an epiphany. My ratings were falling. Mutants were passé. I needed something new, edgy. I had the kid market, the young adult market, but I needed a ringer. That’s when I thought to myself, ‘Self, you should make mutant porn, and capture the adult entertainment market.’ And so, I sent Spiral to bring me some mutants.” The grotesque spineless smiling blob placed his gangly fingers where his hips would have been, had he had any. “This has got to be the stupidest plot I have ever heard of…” Guido Carosella groaned. The sperm soaked Spiral stepped up next to Strong Guy, placing one hand on his still exposed, but now limp, penis and began stroking it. xXx-Men:Man Mutant Cyborg 24/7 Ch. 03 “Could be worse, big guy,” Spiral smiled, “He could have asked for mutant gay porn.” The inter-dimensional terrorist looked past Guido and at Sunspot, giving the Brazilian mutant a wink. What the fuck was that for? Bobby thought. “So, all you want us to do is fuck some chicas using our mutant powers in front of your cameras, or something stupid like that?” “Oh, no. That’s too set up. The viewing public would never buy it, even though you mutants seem to be the only beings breeding in the Marvel Universe.” Mojo grinned fiendishly, “I need this show to be edgy… a reality show. Voyeurism. Mutants fucking mutants fucking mutants in total decadence and abandon. Broadcast live in high definition, with Kirby 5.1 Surround Sound.” “Mutant porn…” Cannonball shook his head. “What’s next?” *****