Gesture of Goodwill update (Patreon)

Emma snapped off the collar around her neck, then turned on her heel and marched away, seeming for all the world like a cat beating a retreat from a type of petting she didn’t care for. Brusque as she always was when the situation called for it, Ororo made a grab for her.

Now Emma really hustled, twisting away and breaking into a run. But she was not fast enough to outpace the woman whose mind she was in. Ororo chased her down, the dark sheen of her skin making her slender, curvaceous body seem somehow more substantial than Emma's comparably voluptuous one. Emma’s pale skin made her look dainty, wispy, so it seemed particularly violent to Jean how Ororo ran Emma down.

Thrown down into the mud, Emma whirled onto her back and aimed a slap at Ororo, but Ororo danced back away from the blow, then slid in to mount her. Emma turned away, tried to scramble off on all fours, but Ororo grabbed her arm and twisted it up behind her back. Emma cried out as Ororo kept twisting it for painful emphasis.

“Ororo!” Jean called warningly. “This isn’t you!”

Ororo forced Emma’s face into the mud and kept her shoved down there, bubbles popping up from where she tried to breathe. Emma’s feet kicked like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Of course, in a psychic fantasy, a telepath of Emma’s skills couldn’t die—but the indignity of it all…

“Of course it is. This is my subconscious. All my urges, all my desires, everything I want to do but keep held back. I want to punish Emma. I also want to fuck her. She can choose which happens—if there’s any difference.”

Ororo let Emma up, gasping for breath, only to twist her arm more. Emma pounded the muddy ground with her other hand. “Please, Ororo! Let’s not lower ourselves to vulgar—I’ve always had—had the greatest respect for you, your—“

Ororo laughed savagely. She stopped twisting Emma’s arm to turn her over, thrusting the blonde down onto her back so firmly that Emma felt compelled to stay down. “You always resented me. I have the love and respect of every X-Men there is. You can’t stand that they place me above you. You walk around like such hot shit, Emma. Dressing like a slut while acting like you’ve never had a hard cock within ten feet of you. Like that little pussy is made of gold. But I’m gonna see for myself how good it is.”

Emma suddenly noticed a stream flowing past her. Ororo reached into it, cupping the clear water in her hand, and ladled it onto Emma’s muddy body. Rinsing and washing her off. Emma couldn’t help but tingle at the knowing softness of Ororo’s touch. The phantom sensations were triggering a very real reaction from her body, her mind.

“Scott thinks so highly of you,” Ororo said. “I’m finally going to find out why.”

Splashing more water onto Emma’s dirty chest, she washed away the soil to reveal her creamy breasts in full. As decadently plump as money could buy.

“I have to give it to you, Frost. You have damned good taste in plastic surgeons. And you know just when to say when with the implants. Too much is just enough…”

Ororo licked her full lips, staring at what Emma had so often teased, but never fully revealed to her. She remembered when they’d switched bodies—Emma had preened and shown off the darkly hued nudity she’d stolen from Ororo, while Storm had been too moral to look closely at the milky white flesh she’d been forced to inhabit. She’d always regretted that a little; she didn’t regret this at all.

“Tell me—has all that vanilla ever been in a chocolate swirl?”

Emma snarled at her defiantly. “Oh, it has. And with specimens that would make you look like a down and out!”

“But I bet none of them ever put you in your place,” Ororo said firmly, splashing enough water into Emma’s face to clean off one of her cheeks. It was clear that she didn’t intend to let one splatter of mud reduce her appreciation of Emma’s literally surgical perfection. “As only a goddess can a queen…”

“Jean!” Emma cried out. “You can’t… can’t allow this to go on!”

Jean crossed her arms. “Why ever not, Emma? It’s nothing you’re not used to. Except for Ororo being the one to do it, of course. But then—there was that one time with Mystique…”

“Damn you, Grey! I should never have let Scott talk me into your goddamn mental link!”

Jean strolled closer. “I seem to recall that Scott and I have both been willing to venture off the beaten path in order to fulfill your fantasies. And that was just because you’re so damn high-maintenance. This is to save Ro’s life.”

“You really expect me to whore myself out for any reason?”

“Yes,” Jean said bluntly. “You frequently do it for no reason at all.”

“Jeeean!” Emma whined plaintively—and earsplittingly.

Jean dropped her hands by her side. “Look, I’ll bribe you. You satisfy her and I’ll satisfy you. Whatever it takes.”

Emma mewled while Ororo continued molesting her. “You swear? Whatever I want from you? Or rather—whatever Scott might want?” she asked pointedly.

Ororo suddenly slapped her across the face. “Smart-mouthed bitch. You’re lucky you’re so hot. And dress like such a slut. If you ever stop wearing those little bikinis, it won’t be worth keeping you around.”

Emma growled in dissatisfaction, eyes slanting to Jean.

“Anything! Whatever!” Jean assured her.

Emma’s body was finally clean—as perfectly, purely clean as Ororo could make it. The weather witch leaned down to kiss Emma’s left nipple, knowing instinctively the domineering feeling that would turn Emma on. Her lips were brushing lightly against Emma’s puckered nipple one moment, then it was in her mouth, being gently suckled the next.

“Damn you!” Emma moaned. “Damn you, Grey, do you have to watch? It’s bad enough you see when Scott—nnnhhhh!”

Jean politely ignored Emma’s torturous cries. “Of course I have to watch, ‘Em. Don’t you want me to be sure you’re keeping up your end of the bargain?”

Emma ground her teeth. “You’re going to regret this when it’s Scott and I inside you, sharing all your tender little holes!”

“What’s the matter, Frosty?” Ororo asked teasingly. “Afraid to admit you’re enjoying yourself when you’re not the one calling the tune?”

Emma’s lips pinched together. That was exactly what she was afraid of. She was already taking far too much pleasure in this submission, and without even it being Scott to make it tolerable. Emma was willing to allow that she had a massive blind spot when it came to him, her being in love with the big idiot, but to have these wild vibrations come from Ororo?

The windrider seemed to know exactly what to do to Emma and Emma hated the thought that she was so predictable that Ororo Munroe could figure her out. She also hated the thought that Ororo was not just powerful, not just beautiful, but she had sexual prowess on par with herself at her kinkiest. Goddamn, maybe the bitch hadn’t dressed up in all that ripped black leather just for show!

Ororo’s wet tongue moved down the pendulous slope of Emma’s breasts, circled a stiff nipple, then trailed gently along the flattened curve where gravity squeezed Emma’s bosom down to her chest. Emma sucked in breath, feeling Ororo’s licks leave her cleavage and meet her trembling stomach.

Suddenly, Jean grabbed hold of Emma’s outstretched arms and gave her a tug, bringing her to a tree trunk and tying her arms around it with a length of rope. Emma kicked and bucked her hips, but Jean soon had a hearty knot holding Emma’s arms in place above her head.

“What the fuck are you doing, you absolute bint!?” Emma demanded.

“You looked like you were getting a little too into it,” Jean said innocently. “I know you’d hate for Ororo to think you’re a submissive, so I thought I’d tie you up like this. Now it’s plain to see that you haven’t chosen to be dominated; you’re being ravished and you don’t like it at all.”

“Quite right!” Emma snapped. “You cow! Hey--!”

Ororo was forcing Emma’s legs apart. Emma snapped them shut, but Ororo was too strong for her. A vigorous athlete and trained fighter since her girlhood on the streets of Cairo, Ororo easily overpowered Emma’s yoga moves and Peloton muscle.

Emma flushed with shame as Ororo looked at the bright pink of her pussy, outshining her piercing blue eyes with ease. “Seems more like frosting than frost,” Ororo breathed. “I don’t know what you’re so ashamed of. That pussy looks as sweet as can be…”

Ororo moved her hand up between Emma’s toned thighs. Emma shuddered before Ororo touched her, then truly began to quiver. As gently as she would wash a wineglass, Ororo stroked the lips of Emma’s cunt. Emma tried to move from side to side, but her arms were trapped and Ororo’s weight hold her down. The windrider’s fingers kept pleasing Emma’s body.

Finally, Emma sagged to the ground, eyes shut, head back, giving into the delights that kept coursing through her flesh.

“That’s right, girl,” Ororo said. “Don’t fight me. Everyone here knows you’re enjoying this. You might as well admit how good it feels. It’s not going to stop happening and it’s not going to stop feeling good.”

Emma felt ashamed of herself—ashamed of being so easily manipulated. She couldn’t believe Ororo was really so skilled as to overwhelm her. It had to be that bitch Jean, pulling a fast one on her, getting back at Emma for outperforming her with Scott ever-so-consistently.

“Oh, Emma, that is really unkind,” Jean drawled.

“Want my plastic surgeon’s number?” Emma hissed at her. “I’m sure he can do wonders, even with what little you have to work with…”

Ororo’s middle finger slid into Emma’s wet cunt, moving around. The pleasure was so intense Emma instinctively tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go, no way for her to move. She gasped when Ororo’s knuckle brushed against her clit. Two more fingers slowly entered Emma. Emma’s sex was stretching as much as it was stroked.

“You like that, don’t you?” Ororo cooed. “You like having your pussy played with like the cute little toy it is?”

“No,” Emma lied, gulping, trying to blink away the flustering of what Ororo was doing to her. She moved her hips continuously while Ororo’s fingers kept petting her and petting her and petting her. Then Ororo lowered her head and sucked at Emma’s tender breast again.

“No, oh no, please don’t,” Emma begged softly, but Ororo kept sucking her, kept stroking her.

Emma was losing control. Her mind demanded that Ororo stop, but her body begged for more, and more, and more. Her ass already lifted up in response to Ororo’s caressing fingers. Her pussy felt wetter than it had ever been, dripping hot juices every time Ororo’s hand thrust inside her. Even the sound was wet as Ororo’s fingers kept pumping into Emma’s cunt.

Ororo seemed surprised. She grinned lasciviously down at Emma’s flushed face. “Your pussy knows enough to get nice and hot for me.”

“It’s not you, I just like being tied up!” Emma retorted.

“You must like it so much that it’s a wonder you ever get untied.”

And Ororo laughed wickedly, dropping her head to slurp at Emma’s tit again. This time it felt like she was trying to suck the engorged nipple right off. Emma groaned softly, trying to control her harsh breathing as Ororo began to chew Emma’s nipple as much as suck it. Ororo’s fingers worked deeper into Emma’s cunt, now a fourth one inside her.

Emma couldn’t control herself. She just couldn’t. She wasn’t begging Ororo to stop, but she couldn’t tell if that was because she was too proud to give Ororo the satisfaction of pleading—or because she never wanted it to stop, not ever, she wanted to keep being Ororo’s little bitch forever.