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Emma felt a wan prickle as Scott let himself into her room. She kept an open-door policy during office hours and even though it was evening, she hadn’t yet unhung her shingle, still catching up on paperwork. So she didn’t mind Scott coming to see her—except that she did.

Perhaps it was her own misgiving about him, or perhaps lingering traces of his animosity towards her for her years in the Hellfire Club. His mistrust of Emma and Emma’s resentment of that could get all tangled up for a psychic; at a glance, she couldn’t tell whether she was feeling his emotions or her own.

Maybe it was just that it was a laundry day and she was wearing an old outfit—the cold-shoulder white blouse with a ribbon in the middle, showing off a peekaboo cut-out of her ample cleavage, and a white skirt with a black belt. Very last season; she should’ve handed them off to Goodwill, but they held sentimental value. She had been wearing most of these pieces when the X-Men had recruited her… the crown jewel in her campaign towards redemption, the final proof that she was not the same person as had been in the Hellfire Club.

“Scott,” Emma greeted, standing respectfully just to start things off on a good note. She could be the mature one, especially for such a handsome man… “What brings you to my den of sin at such a late hour?”

“Nothing much,” Scott replied, idly strolling over to her. “Just wondering if your little cunt was as warm as usual?”

“W-what?” Emma stammered. She was more than used to having abuse shouted at her, considering she could also read the minds of those with enough discretion to stay silent, but even at his most disdainful of her, Scott had never spoken like this. It wasn’t even the screed she might’ve expected to go with such foul language. He said it calmly, coolly, as if he were discussing the weather.

“Come on, Emma, a whore like you? Is your pussy running hot—ready to be fucked—or are you going to keep your legs closed for once? Never mind. It’s not important. I’ll find out for myself.”

With a casual ease that Emma was still too shocked to defend herself against, he grabbed the sides of her top’s cleavage and tore it open, sending buttons flying. Emma’s breasts had already been blatantly shown off, and now her balconette bra was on display before Scott ripped that away too, casually callous, revealing all of her sensually plump breasts jutting out from her chest.

The sight of their naked glory only seemed to further inflame whatever rage was under Scott’s cool exterior. He stared at the smooth ivory hills so avidly it was obvious even through his ruby quartz glasses; Emma felt absurdly scandalized. He was getting off on this. Worse, he was using her—using the sight of her like she was no more than a centerfold in a pin-up magazine.

Emma might’ve enjoyed flaunting her sexuality… might even have liked allowing Scott to indulge himself in enjoying it… but both calling her a whore and treating her like one was a step too far, even for her!

And yet, her shock at Scott’s actions left her paralyzed, a massive gulf between her admitting what he had done and reacting to it. She could only gape helplessly, her lips falling open to expose her mouth just as her breasts were visible.

“Yeah, that’s right, open your mouth,” Scott snarled with barely controlled disdain. “You like to talk, don’t you? Like to hear your own snooty voice. Or maybe you’re just begging for someone to stick a cock in there so you can get back to being a good little suck-slut like you were at the Hellfire Club.”

Emma muttered weakly, too shaken to summon up her usual resolve: “Y-you can’t talk to me like this…”

“What? Like you’re a whore? I know you’re pretending to be a hero now, but are you really going to act like you weren’t the biggest slut the Hellfire Club had ever seen?” Scott chuckled darkly, favoring her heaving breasts with another look. “So lovely. Such a good asset for a little fuck-bitch like you. No wonder Xavier brought you onboard. Course, he’s such a softie. Gave everyone the nice, sanitized version of what you did with Mastermind. But you’re kidding yourself if you think there’s one X-man that doesn’t know about the orgies… the little exhibitions… the things you did to become White Queen. Tell me, did they call you that before or after the men came all over you? And which did you enjoy more, being in charge or having a layer of cum dripping off every inch of you?”

“You… you should leave!” Emma managed to squeak out. She was more deeply affected by these accusations of Scott than she would’ve thought. Perhaps it was that it was Cyclops, someone she had come to care for, see as the closest thing the X-Men had to an ideal, noble hero… or perhaps it was how close his dirty slurs hit to home.

Moving suddenly, Scott grabbed her skirt and yanked it so hard that the zipper gave, letting him rip it from her body. Emma was left in only a thin pair of lacy white panties, the waistband a mere string around her womanly hips, the crotch just a scant collection of stitches in a languid caress along her pubis and between her buttocks. And it was obvious how wet she was, both from the dampness of her panties’ crotch-band and the gleaming wetness that showed on her groin to either side of the skimpy covering.

“Scott, please don’t!” Emma keened, cringing back against her desk, her arms protectively covering her abundant breasts, her legs squeezed together to hide as much as she could of her exposed panties.

Scott stood over her, his lips curled distastefully even as she read the lust in his eyes, right through his censorious sunglasses. “God, just talking about being a whore is making you wet. You really haven’t changed a bit since Hellfire. Why’d you even join the X-Men, an evil slut like you? Did you get bored of being passed around like a party favor by the entire Inner Circle? Maybe you wanted a shot at Storm—she tends to have that effect on people. Is that it, Emma? Do you just want some fresh prick and pussy to get you off?”

“I’m not… no, I swear… I’m not a whore,” Emma whimpered. “I just, just enjoy a little…”

“A little what? A little of THIS?” Scott demanded, grabbing her by the wrist and jerking her up to her feet.

She hadn’t even begun to find her footing before Scott threw her down onto a nearby chest of drawers. He grabbed her cruelly by the hair and forced her face down against the hard leather paneling the old wood. Emma sobbed, embarrassed to the point of tears by her craven reaction, but she got no pity from Scott. Her reaction only seemed to spur him on.

Almost as hot as his optic blast, his eyes traveled over the milky whiteness of her body, stopping to savor the graceful flare of her hips. He saw the two exuberant swells of her buttocks, silky smooth texture obvious even through her flimsy panties. Yes, they demanded his attention. Any woman who looked like Emma did, and was as much a whore as she was, would get some attention from anyone.

Without particular rancor, but a kind of thoroughly bestial determination, Scott pulled the last protection down over Emma’s curvaceous hips and dropped them to the floor. Her creamy buttocks stood out, sexual and vulnerable, even tempting with the flickering light from a nearby candle—fucking Emma Frost—shining over flesh like polished marble. Between her quivering legs was the soft white fleece of her pale pubic hair, trimmed into delicate artistry, and beneath that filigree was the faint sheen of her trembling little slit.

Already well-satisfied with the use he was putting the whorish Emma to, Scott put his hands on her two quaking mounds of alabaster flesh and slowly drew them apart, to stare in wonder at the crinkled pink ring of her anus. He ran his thumb experimentally over it.

Oooohhhh!” Emma jerked forward like she was being branded, but the chest of drawers blocked her way. “You can’t, Scott, you can’t!”

“Really? How many people at the Hellfire Club could? Wasn’t that why you walked around with nothing on but a skimpy little thong over that absolutely sumptuous ass? To get men thinking what I’m thinking now? Why’d you do that if you didn’t enjoy it? What did you want them to do if not this?”

Emma had no leverage. It was too awkward for her to try and clamber over the high, sprawling chest of drawers—Scott would simply pull her back down or pin her in place. There was nothing she could do but submit.

“I… I was different then… I was confused!” Emma protested.

Scott’s thumbs clawed mercilessly up between Emma’s tender cheeks, while his fingers dug into the softly rounded flesh, holding her in place. Emma’s resistance was draining from her. She was helpless, her body relaxing into this new state—being used as Scott desired. Thought and consequences were out of her hands… all she had to do was give in.

“You’re confused now,” Scott told her. His hands moved slowly around her pillowy soft inner thighs, all the way to her moist sex. “Telling yourself you’re a teacher, an X-Man. Are you really expecting me to believe you got off on lesson plans the way you did when three hung studs made you airtight? The way you are now?”

Emma tried to use her telepathy to make him stop—or she thought she did—in any case, it did nothing. Her psychic mind seemed full of Scott’s lusts and desires; so much more overwhelming than her own. She could feel Scott’s balls throb with excitement. He found it so arousing to see her submissively bent over… a soaring sensation of power at how she was terrified and compliant. And Emma liked that he approved of her. She liked that she was turning him on. She didn’t even have to do anything to arouse him; he was just got stiff because of what a slut she was.

Scott’s hands spread over Emma’s nicely plump buttocks, cupping them firmly, pulling them even further apart. Her anal sphincter strained, opening up under the pressure, and his thumbs probed at the puckered little ring with a feeling like Emma was being shocked with electricity.

“Yeah,” Scott rasped. “Get it open. Real open. I’m gonna use you the way you were meant to be used, Emma. I’ll show you what a slut you really are and after I’m done, you’ll never forget again.”

Emma moaned at the sound of his cold voice, but whether it was in dismay or arousal, even she couldn’t tell. She tried weakly to relax her buttocks, to open up as he’d asked her to. She wasn’t so much fearful of disobeying him as she was of him losing interest, not doing what he’d promised. God, she already felt so low, hearing him abuse her—the least she could do was try to enjoy the strange arousal that had come with his punishing treatment of her.

Scott kept teasing at her tightly puckered rectum with both thumbs, relishing how Emma cringed in agonized enjoyment. It was like the new her was painfully dying and the old her… the slut her… was being reborn. He held his left thumb pressed down on her taut grommet while his right hand kneaded her soft ass remorselessly.

Then, closing in with his sneering face, he lashed his long tongue put, sweeping it along the crevice between her trembling buttocks. Emma couldn’t control herself, shuddering when she felt his saliva being laved into such a taboo area. Then he dug his teeth viciously into her pliant cheek, leaving an imprint in the soft and tender flesh. Before she’d begun to process that… sort agony from arousal… his tongue was at her asshole, probing pointedly, testing and teasing, stretching her tightly clenched ring even more than before.

“Oh my God, my God!” Emma mewled. Words echoed in her head, she thought so loudly—and a part of her wondered if Scott could hear. He’s making me a whore again… making me his personal ass-fuck whore… Is this really the man I admired so much… doing this to me… is that why I’m… eager… to be his anal bitch…?

Scott heard her sniffle, heard her moan in horror at her own arousal. She was being taught all over again what her body was meant for, what she’d been put on Earth to enjoy and endure. You haven’t learned any sort of lesson yet, he thought venomously, Emma hearing his thoughts ringing in her ears like a shout. But there’s no denying the truth when you’re just this side of begging to be what you are.

So much more than any of her own tiny misgivings, Emma felt him rip down the zipper of his pants and release his lust-swollen erection. She sighed with him, full of relief to have his endowment free and shooting up proudly into the air. She wasn’t just glad that Scott was more comfortable, but inordinately pleased that hotly throbbing member would soon be hers. Yes, yes, I’m nothing but a hot little whore! Use me! Pleasure yourself with me! Nothing could make this slut happier than knowing her body got to be your cum dumpster!

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