The Mind Is Virgin Territory update (Patreon)

“Oh my darling,” Emma whispered in a voice so husky that it was no whisper at all. “Your tongue… I have to feel that wet tongue on my clit… that’s it, dear… that’s what you’re good for… it feels so wonderful inside… oh, that’s all you should ever use your tongue for…”

But Kitty wasn’t the only one hearing Emma’s impassioned words. Scott had been standing outside the door for several minutes, his head inclined towards it so that he could pick up every gasp and sigh, while not so close that his ear was pressed up against it—if someone happened upon it, he could act as if he were trying the door and just discovering it were locked.

Not that it was locked, or that anyone was likely to happen upon him with Emma radiating go away brainwaves. Scott wasn’t sure if he was included in that category or if they’d been together for so long that he was immune to such a low-level use of power. In fact, he’d probably erred by letting things progress this far, allowing Emma to get into the act to the point that she would resent his interruption, but the pleasure of listening in on Emma with her oh-so-willing victim gave him pause. He couldn’t see them, but the sounds of their lovemaking and Emma’s domineering words were enough to stiffen his cock immensely. Even then, he heard a series of little squeals, obviously one of them achieving orgasm. He took a deep breath, then burst into the room.

Kitty was lying on her side, her legs scissored against Emma’s, their wet cunts rubbing together. Both their mouths were open, all four eyes closed tight. At the sound of him barging in, Emma jerked her head to the door, an expression of stormy anger crossing her face. Kitty was already climaxing, enjoying herself, but Emma was at that maddening point where an interruption was enough to pain her, yet she didn’t dare risk Scott’s wrath by trying for more. After all, he was already hard.

“What’s this?” Scott demanded. “A faculty meeting?”

Kitty was still in the wrenching throes of her orgasm. As Scott spoke, she forced her eyes open and saw him, her face turning bright red. The worst part was that she kept pumping herself against Emma to prolong her pleasure, even knowing that he was there. Kitty just couldn’t help herself.

“Kitty,” Scott said firmly, “get out. The Headmistress and I have some private matters to discuss.”

“I… yes, okay,” Kitty said when she’d recovered her wits, scooping up her clothes and hastening to phase through the wall. With solid brick between her and the Summers domestic bliss, she felt far more comfortable getting dressed, even if she was technically out in the middle of the courtyard, buck-naked.

Emma laid there, in a daze, but one which arranged her crotchless pantyhose and tailored jacket to be almost artistic. As she looked up at Scott, out of breath, she smiled. “You shouldn’t have let her take her clothes with her. It would’ve been so much fun sending her running naked across the campus. And she’s so submissive, she wouldn’t even give it a second thought. In fact, you could probably top her better than me—“

“Shut the fuck up,” he broke in. “You’re a slut. Putting your filthy hands on that girl and doing whatever you want to with her poor, naked body…”

“I think you’ll find I did whatever she wanted me to with her poor, naked body. Not that there was much difference.”

Scott grabbed Emma by the wrist, hauling her up and dragging her to the bedroom. He threw her on the bed. Emma struggled. Scott slapped her.

“We are going to have a long talk about this,” he snarled, gripping her throat. “And you’re lucky we’re not having it right now.”

“Of course, dear,” Emma replied smartly. “Fuck now, lecture later. You can call me a cunt too, if you want. I have rather been one, haven’t I?”

“Yes. You have,” he growled. ”I indulge you way too much...” 

He grabbed her legs and wrenched them apart, pulling her pantyhose off of her, then using them to bind her ankles and wrists to the bedposts. Emma was left helpless. She loved it. When Scott undressed, his cock was bigger and angrier than Emma had ever seen it. There was a sharp twinge between her legs as she thought of him using it on her.

It went all the way back to the Hellfire Club. The extremes of pain and pleasure, dominance and submission—the sublime ecstasy of swinging from one to the other, whipping from being the mistress to being the slave. Only it had never truly appealed to her then. She could never respect any of the men or women who were supposed to have topped her. It was play-acting, that was all. Whatever else she felt for Scott, she could respect his diamond integrity coupled with his tempered ruthlessness (pain and pleasure, dominance and submission). He could pull her back from the brink, counterbalance her to give Emma a stability she had never known before, had not even realized she’d wanted. And that was just in public. In private, she savored being his bitch. It brought her higher, being the fucktoy of the leader of the X-Men herself. And her subs lower, bitch’s bitches. Oh, if only she could convince Scott to top some of them with her. Even willful little Katherine would just be a quivering mass of subservience between the two of them…

Scott held his hard cock like a weapon. It was aimed right at the center of Emma’s splayed cunt.

“You think you can do it?” Emma asked him. “Fuck me into being a good girl? There aren’t any good girls in this mansion, Scott, only sluts like me. And I don’t think you can fuck me hard enough to give up making them eat my sweet pussy. It feels so good, Scott. You should let me make one of them into a cute little cocksucker for you. Maybe Jubilee. She can be Logan’s sidekick, but your fuckhole…”

Emma’s words only incensed Scott more, which he knew she was trying to do. Proving so predictable made him even more incensed. There was a storm of anger and rage inside him, turning Scott into an animal. He let it.

His huge cock plunged inside of Emma. As he mounted her, he took hold of one of her nipples and twisted it violently.

“I don’t need another fuckhole,” Scott rasped. “I’ve got three right here.”

As her agony mixed with the deliciousness of what he was doing to her, Emma screamed. She was coming already. 

“Don’t just lie there! Move your ass!” he demanded.

“Make me!” Emma cried defiantly.

He slapped her again, splitting her lip, and in response to the fresh pain, Emma rolled her hips for him. The pace was furious.

“How do you like being my fuckhole?” Scott hissed, driving his prick down to her core. His hand was on her throat, thumb massaging the trickle of blood from her lip, pushing it back into her mouth, making her taste it anew. “I don’t think it’s possible that Jubilee could be a bigger sub than you. Even she’d put up more of a fight.”

“I can’t even feel it!” Emma lied. “You won’t make me come!”

“Yeah, right,” Scott chuckled. “You’re coming already. You can’t help it. You love being a filthy slut too much.”

“You fuck like you’re driving me to Sunday school,” Emma spat at him, even as she felt another orgasm warming her loins. “You could fuck me all night and I’d never come.”

“I don’t think I could put up with fucking a filthy pussy like yours all night. Maybe I should let Kitty come back and eat you out some more. Get you nice and clean!”

He reached down between their joined bodies, finding her engorged clit. Emma’s eyes rolled back in her head as she felt him pluck it between his fingers. Then he twisted it savagely, like he was one step away from ripping it off.

“Nnnnnnnnhr!” Emma cried with welcome pain. She had come again, her cunt throbbing so hard that there was no way Scott hadn’t felt it. But she wouldn’t admit it to him. That was something Jean would do. She would keep denying feeling one iota of pleasure until he had taken her over his knee and spanked the confession out of her.

“I’ll break you,” Scott promised her. “Just like I always break you. I’ll fuck you until you squirt if it takes all night. Then you can suck your orgasm off my cock and tell me again how I can’t make you come.”

“Bastard!” Emma swore at him. “You fucking bastard! Try it, try making me your bitch! Try fucking my cunt open until I’m so grateful that I’ll suck your cock to sleep! Oh, God, you piece of shit, if only I had a real man to fuck me! I’d do anything for a real man!”

She was just going it so he would punish her again, and he did, twisting her clit the other way. The wondrous pain set her on fire. It was all she could do to keep from screaming like a murder victim; he was killing her with pleasure. At times like these, she didn’t even care if he loved Jean more than her or not. If he loved Jean so much, he’d never do this with her. 

“Tell me how much you like my cock!” Scott demanded, pulling at Emma’s clit now, the hurting pleasure making her go cross-eyed.

“You… fucking animal!” Emma cried.

“Slut,” Scott fired back.

He forced himself to the depths of her pussy. Emma trembled so hard that her legs tugged at their binding, unable to escape, unable to resist. At this point, though, the only point of her being tied was to give her an excuse.

He fucked her harder, faster, doubling his speed into her tender pussy. Emma was delirious with pleasure, hurting, aching with how good it felt. She wanted to tell the world how hard he was making her come as she fully realized how much she loved him—caught between moments, looking forward to how tender he would be in caring for her later while loving how rough he was with her now.

“You love it!” Scott yelled at her, and she could only close her eyes and nod her head. She pulled desperately at the bonds that held her, wanting to touch him, feel him, but all she could feel was his hardness and the strength with which he was fucking her. It was amazing, she thought, that he loved her enough to hurt her the way she needed.

“Yes! Fuck, yes!” Emma gushed, unable to hide the glorious truth anymore and loving the sound of it. “It’s coming! It’s so deep inside me! God, God—fuck me, Scott! Fuck your good mutant girl! Scott Summers only fucks good girls! Scott Summers only fucks nice hero bitches who do as they’re goddamn told!”

Only for once, Scott didn’t let her come. He slowed down. There was an unseemly smile on his face—Boy Scout cheerfulness with his cock impaling her.

“I thought you wanted me to make you suffer.”

Emma howled with frustration. “Fuck me, you sadist! Don’t pretend you don’t want to come in this perfect cunt! Give me your hot cum! I want it!”

“Try and take it--mistress,” Scott taunted her, before delivering a slight slap across her tits, enjoying the ripple that went through them. Emma could sense his appreciation of their jiggling bloom through his mind, and it made her teeth grind together. 

Emma squeezed her cunt in a ripping massage, rocking her hips up against his groin, giving him a virtual lapdance with only the undulations of her restrained body.

“Come! Come!” she screeched. “I know you want to fill my cunt with all that cum!”

“Is this what they call topping from the bottom?” Scott grinned.

“GIVE IT TO ME!”

The bedsprings were squeaking, her ass was bouncing so hard. Every inch of his cock was inside her, being squeezed, massaged, gripped by her taut inner muscles. He has to come, she told herself. When I want a man, a woman, a cock, no one can say no to me. I’m Emma Frost! I’m the White fucking Queen!

Scott’s smile widened, as if he were the psychic, sensing her every thought with a cool supremacy. “Say please.”

“PLEASE!”

Oh, how Scott smiled. “Polite cunt, aren’t you?”

He thrust himself down into her, all the way. Emma heard the bedsprings scream, the wooden bedframe creak. She thought one of the timbers underneath the mattress give. She didn’t care. He was coming.

His seed stormed into Emma’s pussy and Emma went cross-eyed as she felt it throb into her, shot after shot, heat and heat and more heat. She could barely speak, but she managed. She had to.

“I’m all filled up,” she moaned. “Put the rest in my face. Please, please come in my face…”

Scott yanked himself out of her flooded cunt, sloppily aiming it at Emma’s face; leaving a trail of jism up her torso as he did so. Emma closed her eyes as more of Scott’s cum coated her, her hair, her eyebrows, her face. She’d spent millions on making herself physically perfect in every detail, and a perverse thrill went through her as she let Scott Summers use that perfection as his cumrag. 

“Scott fucking Summers,” she sighed, blindfolded by his cum across her closed eyes, as the jizz ran down her cheekbones, her throat. “I’ll never get enough.”

She was so drained, so utterly wrung out by the demands of her submission, that when she felt the pressure in the back of her throat, her eyes fluttered open as if she’d been woken from a deep sleep. Momentarily confused, she opened her eyes to see a dark patch of hair. Her tongue wagged and she experienced the musky taste of Scott’s length, his cockhead throbbing as it nudged past her tonsils and filled her gullet. Her jaw would ache later, taking him this deep, but it was worth it. 

“Now then,” Scott said, hands in her hair, directing her back and forth on his half-hard erection. “Since you don’t need a mouth to talk—and you’re such a wonderful multitasker—let’s hear about you and Kitty while you suck down all the cum you missed.”

Emma pulled at her bonds again. There still wasn’t an inch of give. 

Christ, she really had to convince him to dom that kinky bitch Storm for her. One sight of a thing like that and she might never stop coming.

***

Jean’s body was a thing of beauty, but after sex, it was one of God’s own originals. The breathy little moans Jean made, long after orgasm, and the exhausted heave of her cleavage with every deep breath she took, and the perfect glimmer of sweat on her fair skin. It almost outweighed the sex, which had been tremendous. A little like masturbation, a little like the first cautious examination of another’s body in the loss of virginity. Rachel had seen that she and her mother both liked to be touched in the same way: kissed, fondled, pleasured. It was no wonder they were both involved with Kitty, beyond the little ninja being lesbian catnip in general. 

Rachel actually felt a little inferior, but in a sporting way. How could anyone live up to Jean? She was a work of art and Rachel was the copy, but it was an honor to be a copy of that. To be able to both share in that vivacious body and enjoy it herself.

“Oh, God,” Jean trilled gently, “I wasn’t even a lesbian when I time-traveled. What is it about this decade?” She grinned, shaking her head. “Why is all the good stuff so damn perverse.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it runs in the family,” Rachel needled.

Jean buried her head in Rachel’s shoulder. “It’s never like this with Scott. Never so… dirty. Maybe it will be, one day? He’s with that Emma woman; he must pick up a thing or two.”

“It could be a mutant thing,” Rachel suggested. “Maybe evolution thought having really great sex would make us better breeders.”

“None of us are going to breed if we keep doing this.”

“An evolutionary dead-end of great, kinky-ass sex,” Rachel laughed. “I can think of worse ways for the species to go.”

“Now you’re depressing me.” Jean grabbed Rachel’s wrist and hauled her arm around herself, Rachel gleefully giving in and snuggling with her. “Do as your mother says: cheer me up.”

“We’ll work things out. We always do. By the time you’re my age, you’re going to survive all sorts of crap.” Rachel ran a hand over Jean’s flank. All the curves were there, but not yet refined, discovered. On some level, Jean didn’t even know how beautiful she was—hadn’t gotten the idea from all the people who wanted to fuck her yet. She was still the most unprepossessing woman Rachel had ever met. Soon, she’d have the same coy sexuality that Rachel had, knowing how beautiful she was and how to use it to get what she wanted. Rachel didn’t know if that would be good or not. There was something about her innocence that was so appealing…

“We’ll work something out,” Rachel continued. “If Emma Frost and Kitty Pryde can manage a simultaneous orgasm, the mutant race can figure out how to survive.”

“What?” Jean asked, and Rachel felt a wave of psychic surprise coming off, total shock at the idea, then furious thinking on how it could possibly work humming in the foreground of her consciousness. “When did Emma and Kitty get together?”

“I… I saw them tonight,” Rachel said, wondering if she was doing the right thing, but too far gone to be circumspect. Not wanting to lie to someone so close to her. “I knew you and Kitty were going out, but I didn’t think you were exclusive—“

“Yeah, No,” Jean said. “We’re not monogamous. I just didn’t think Kitty would be interested in… someone like Emma.”

“Well, Emma can be very seductive. I’m sure Kitty doesn’t care about her the way she does you.”

“Yeah,” Jean said, in dismal agreement. “What did you see them doing, exactly?”