Into Emma's Verse update (Patreon)

Scott knelt over her, grabbing her legs and locking her ankles together with a torn swath from her cape. The White Queen cried out helplessly—Scott ripped another swath from her cape and bound her hands with it. Last, he took her panties, wadded them up, and gagged her with them. Making her taste her own arousal with every struggle she made to bellow her disapproval.

“I’ve decided you’re not allowed to talk,” Scott said. “But since I’m such a Boy Scout, I’m just going to take that option away from you instead of punishing you when you disobey. I know how hard you find it to be a good girl.”

Slowly, almost lazily, Scott stood over her again. His body was lean and hard; his cock was huge. He propped the White Queen’s trapped body up against the wall and rubbed his cockhead all over her face, marring her pristine make-up with the heat of his erection and the drip of his precum.

“You like big cocks, right? Because you’re going to get a lot of this one.”

She wanted to scream, but her own panties were stuffed too far into her mouth. Scott peeled her corset and what was left of her cape away from her, exposing all of her body except for the legs covered by her thigh-high boots. He left her in those. His fat prick bounded to new hardness, seeing her uncovered but still in such fetishistic apparatus.

“Those tits are just a little perkier than when I know you.” He caught one enormous mound in his hand and pinched the stiff nipple. “Yeah, I’m going to enjoy myself with these.”

Suddenly he pulled the panties out of her mouth. The White Queen realized that she should threaten him. Her eyes boiled with anger and she scowled, preparing to unleash a stream of invective, but Scott slapped her with his hardened cock before she could. While she was still aghast at the humiliating gesture of ownership, he stuffed his erection into her mouth.

“Don’t even think of biting it,” he whispered softly. “My Emma is monitoring your thoughts. She’s way more experienced than you and she won’t even let you breathe without my permission. Try it if you want, but it’ll just make me start in on your asshole. You have to decide which you want to let me have: your ass or your mouth. Now I want you to give me the best blowjob of your life and believe me, I know how good you can suck.”

Submissively, the White Queen wrapped her lips around his shaft and suckled it hard. She was a creature of urges and while she didn’t know if Scott would truly hurt her, she found herself fearing that he would. That fear turned her on, became lust at having his big prick pulsing between her lips. So she gave into the thrill, enjoying herself immensely while she pumped her mouth on his cock.

“Ahhh!” Scott rocked on his heels, looking down in delight at the spectacle of this cruelly beautiful woman now having her signature sneer replaced with the look of his cock distending her mouth. “Does my dick taste good, ‘White Queen’? Do you like sucking it or do you just like having a man shove himself in your mouth like you’re his bitch?”

The White Queen gurgled and nodded, knowing that wasn’t really an answer, but it wasn’t like she could be more specific with him filling her mouth and holding her down on his cock. She wished he would release her hands, let her jack him off while she sucked his cockhead—there was plenty of room on his dick for her to play—but it almost seemed better this way, more right, for him to simply use her instead of allowing her any say in pleasing him. Any choice.

Almost gagging on the girth of his prick and how vehemently he offered it to her—forced it upon her—the White Queen vigorously bobbed her head within the tight grasp of his hands. Scott groaned pleasurably, feeling her virtually fuck herself on his steel-hard dick.

“Oh shit!” His cock swelled and throbbed inside her sucking mouth. “You’re going to get even better at this, but you already know so much about sucking dick! Unngghh! And I already know how much you’re going to like this cum…”

The White Queen slurped and gurgled, running her tongue all over Scott’s engorged cockhead. She greedily drank up the precum trickling from his glanshole. Then his member was throbbing violently, thundering with the cum swelling it up. Scott pushed her head away, his dick popping free of her lips. It was now a deep, swollen red, an angry hardness charging it as it dripped precum onto the floor.

“I’m not going to mark your mouth as my territory. I’m gonna stake a claim right up your sweet little pussy.”

The White Queen’s proud breasts jiggled vibrantly as Scott roughly thrust her onto her knees, then lifted her ass up into the air so that her upper body was levered down. Her slit stood out between her rounded thighs, a melting target between the long legs held shut by his belt around her ankles.

Scott took his prick in hand and forced every inch of it inside of the White Queen, all in one thrust, making her take inch after inch until he was buried all the way in her cunt. There was no foreplay, no time for her to get used to it—he proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that sucking him off had gotten her wet enough to be fully hilted.

Amenable as she was to sex, it was a rare few Emma Frost actually allowed to touch her—and Scott took full advantage of that fact, savoring her tightness to the utmost. She was wet enough to drip, but still, the degree she had to stretch for him was incredible.

“Ggghh!” The White Queen cringed in pain, feeling herself opened by all those fat inches, by the brutal demand Scott placed on her small, inviolate pussy. “Easy, Scott! Sir! Please!”

“Don’t pretend you don’t like a little pain. You really think I can’t feel how your cunt is trembling? You were turned on by sucking me, now you’re getting off on being my cock-holster.”

And she was. Her pussy was sheer creaminess, dripping with fresh juices while the slippery folds clung tightly to Scott’s prick. He withdrew until only his crown stayed inside her labia lips, splaying them apart. Then he slammed into her again, giving the White Queen a pleasure that was twofold.

It was harder than the hardest thrust she’d ever begged for and more of a domination than she’d ever gotten, even at her lowest and most submissive. The White Queen couldn’t help but appreciate what she’d been given. The indignity of being claimed in such a manner was a small price to pay for how good it felt.

“Hnnnnggh!” she shrieked, her body then clumsily humping back from its awkward position, trying to please Scott and entice more of this masterful fuck from him. “Yes, Scott! OHHHH, that’s wonderful! Nnnhh! Fuck me, sir, yes, fuck me! Fuck my pussy as hard as you can!”

“Never can’t tell me what to do,” Scott observed under his breath, reaching around her to claw one hand into the ample breast bouncing under her chest.

His throbbing prick slammed rhythmically into her sex, filling it with each stroke, gliding on the gushing juices of her arousal. Emma drooled against the ground, savoring her usage as much as Scott enjoyed her submission.

“You like it, ‘my queen’? You like having your cunt belong to me?”

“FUCK ME!” The White Queen’s legs strained against the belt that held them; she was feverishly trying to rut her ass back into his never-ending thrusts. “You’re making me come, sir! Oh God! I love your big cock! I love how you make me come!”

Scott’s bloated balls hit heavily against the White Queen’s thighs with every thrust of his endowment. Scott was panting, fucking her pussy harder and harder, slamming so brutally into her that she was crammed against the wall, which cracked as she continued to bear his pumping.

“Tight sucking pussy!” Scott moaned. “Oh baby, here it is!”

He rammed himself to the balls in her burning sex. Gasped when her inner walls, roiling with passion, sucked at his spasming cock. Then he unloaded in her, blasting spurt after spurt of his hot load into her churning sex.

“Fill me up, sir!” Feeling his huge wad dominate her pussy sent the White Queen over the edge. “Yes, yes, I’m coming! Bastard, yes, you son of a bitch, spunk in all of me! Rrrrhh! Oh hell, Scott, oh my fucking God!”

Scott kept on pistoning into her cunt until he’d stopped coming and she couldn’t take anymore. Then he pulled himself free of her stuffed pussy, leaving it dripping his seed all over her upturned body. The White Queen stayed in the posture he’d fucked her into, nearly upside-down, her raised hips towering over her flattened torso. She was all but dripping her own cream into her own face.

“Get used to feeling this way,” Emma told her. “You’re not going to shake that addiction anytime soon.” She put an arm around Scott’s waist. “That was exquisite, darling. I actually felt her mind break… and it was all the better because it was me getting fucked. All the fun of swapping without the torrid unpleasantness of having sex with someone other than me. How I spoil you, my love.”

“You certainly do. Enough for one night?”

“Not hardly.” Emma gestured to the White Queen sprawled against the wall. “Even she’s wondering what you’d do to me when I was a stripper. Just enough experience to be cocky, but just naïve enough to try… oh, all sorts of things.”

“I’ve been wondering: did you have a stripper name or was Emma Frost slutty enough?”

Emma tutted him. “At the time, I didn’t think my family deserved to share the glory of what a good dancer I was. I went by Crystal. And I saw nothing wrong with enjoying myself as I made a living…”

***

Crystal came off the stage still wearing much of her luscious accoutrements: white bra, white thong, stiletto heels, and a fur-collared cape that was absolutely translucent, the better to show off the luscious body she was displaying.

She had taken off her elbow-length opera gloves, but that was as far as the strip had went. Crystal had no compunctions about getting naked, but not for the paltry money that had been offered by that crowd. The stage had to be lined with dollar bills before she let them have more than the tantalizing, mocking glimpse she’d given them.

Then Crystal saw the stack of hundred dollar bills wrapped on the floor. She bent over to pick it up automatically and heard a wolf-whistle from behind her. Turning, she saw a man in red sunglasses. Her half-naked reflection in their deep opaqueness seemed to denote just how vigorously his gaze was devouring her.

“Who are you?” she demanded. The show was over and her performance was the only time people got to see her on display.

“Scott Summers,” he answered—even through the sunglasses she could tell he was looking her up and down with leering eyes.

“What are you doing here, Scott Summers?”

“Giving you that money,” he said, taking a step towards her. “In exchange for a sample of what you were showing off out there.”

Crystal was shocked. She was no more adverse to prostitution than to stripping, considering it no more than her being rightfully compensated for her superlative skills and body, but only a select few had ever even been given the opportunity to purchase her. The very upper echelon of society, carefully vetted and going through the proper channel after she’d hand-picked them.