Savage Land Sex Work (Patreon)

The bitch of it was, Rogue was more uncomfortable with sex than ever now that she could control her powers. Before, her touch had been like a shield of last resort. An invincibility of sorts. She put on a brave face, flaunting herself and throwing her sexuality around because nothing could come of it.

Like people playing around in a video game with a cheat code that gave them infinite health, so they just did whatever they wanted. Rogue could never be touched, so she might as well broadcast herself like the biggest slut she wanted to be—it made no difference.

Only now it did. Now she could do whatever she wanted with her body and all her little flirting and coyness didn’t seem like a coping mechanism anymore. They felt like she was one of those emos that cut themselves.

Rogue knew the only way out of her discomfort was through, so she might as well keep acting like herself (whatever that meant, after her psyche had let in a hundred different guests to leave dirty footprints all over her cerebral cortex). But even Scott realized that her situation was a little fraught at the moment, so he kept her away from missions that were too risqué and teammates that were too girl-crazy.

Then they’d crashed in the Savage Land. Gotten all their costumes torn up, as per usual. Rogue was down to a loincloth and bra top. Her jacket was tattered but intact; she alternated between tying it around her waist and wearing it around her shoulders. Either way, her statuesque body had plenty to show off and not much to cover it. But that wasn’t the worst part.

Zaladane, that kook they were always dealing with when they showed up in the Savage Land, was sending out some kind of psychic maelstrom. It slowly worked away at their mental defenses, slowing and stilling their minds until they became her obedient slaves, like all the tribespeople in the area.

Fortunately, Emma Frost was along on the mission, and she’d wanted one last boff with Scott before the lights went out. Whereupon they’d discovered that orgasms staved off the telepathic attack for hours on end.

Now Emma had volunteered herself as the entire team’s free-use slut. She didn’t bother with any clothes at all beyond her white calf boots and the X-ornamented choker she wore. As she so enthusiastically put it, any of the X-Men were free to use her as their cock holster—or cunt licker—for any reason, no questions asked.

Not everyone took her up on it. Some preferred masturbation (she guessed Northstar really was as queer as a two-dollar bill; poor guy had no takers among the male X-Men, despite what Rogue kept reading online). Others were fortunate enough to have teammates who were willing to, ahem, help them out.

But one way or another, Scott would not allow his team to be co-opted by Zaladane. He actually led Emma around on a leash, making sure his people were holding up, and ordering them to fuck Emma to completion if he thought the strain was getting to them.

A leash! Rogue didn’t want to judge, and so long as Emma was volunteering like this, she supposed the slut might as well get off on it. But damn if it didn’t stick in her craw just how much Emma was enjoying herself. Sure, all the X-Men were hot, and their tattered clothes had them down to loincloths and bandeaus at best, but… but…

How come she gets to enjoy fucking her way through the team while I can’t even ask Gambit to kiss me without having a panic attack?

Rogue bit her lip. Another big problem with having a good dozen tinny voice running around in her head like tin soldiers; she was never short of self-awareness. Even the fading ghosts of the last ten people she’d touched could tell she was jealous.

“Sit,” Scott’s voice came, and Rogue felt a flare right in her cunt as she dropped down onto the grass dutifully. She folded her arms prudishly in front of her chest and groin, though that kind of modesty was ridiculous.

It wasn’t like Scott had any, besides the shorts that were left of his costume, covering his pelvis and a little of his legs, but otherwise leaving him naked except for his visor. And Scott had a stupendous body. Every muscle seemed chiseled, sculpted—not the obscene-seeming bloat of some of the X-Men, like Colossus, but fitting perfectly into his tall, lean body.

There was some of that obsessive gym-god thing to his musculature, but it wasn’t off-putting. A lot of guys Rogue had met in the business had that monomaniacal quality like they thought they were Batman and it turned her right off, but ever since he’d gotten with Emma—as when he’d been married to Jean—Scott seemed at least half-way into self-care.

Projecting a more sensual mien, a note of caring, of voluptuous enjoyment. Like he wasn’t just some robot in a human body who worked himself to the bone to be able to blow up as many Sentinels as possible, but like he actually exulted in having that Adonis-like physique at times.

It made him more human, approachable, even if it was born in him fucking Emma’s brains out; Rogue had gotten enough psychic sips of their skin to know how satisfied they both were with their sex life. It didn’t surprise her at all that both of them were comfortable with Emma taking a sabbatical from being exclusively his to be a cum-bucket for the entire team.

Then she realized how Scott was ordering her around, and even though he looked damn good with little more than a Speedo on and he was the team leader… dammit, you didn’t talk to a lady like that!

“What?” Rogue demanded irritably… a good three minutes after she’d obligingly sat down at his order.

“It’s happening to you,” Scott said. “We need to top you off.”

One of Scott’s slight concessions to how damn awkward this was for anyone not a nymphomaniac was using euphemisms for his girlfriend having a train run on her. Not that he seemed to mind. Damn, the man was confident. Like he knew Emma could get dicked by the whole team and still come running back to him. Or his cock.

“Nah, I’m fine, I’m good,” Rogue insisted, running a nervous hand through her hair. She’d already masturbated once… an hour ago… maybe two hours ago… only the sun had been right overhead then and now it was being dragged down to the horizon…

“You’ve been staring off into space for a good half-hour,” Scott said. “You need it.”

“I don’t want it,” Rogue pressed, hating how petulant she sounded. She shouldn’t feel like a whining toddler, just because she didn’t want to have sex.

“You’re one of our heaviest hitters. I can’t have you falling under Zaladane’s control. Now, tell me you wouldn’t hate me if I let her use you to kill all of us, just to spare your feelings?”

Rogue grimaced. She knew he was right. “But I don’t even like Emma,” she thought out loud.

“Give her a chance.” Scott grinned slyly. “She’ll grow on you.”

“She’s busy, isn’t she? Busy fucking one of the others,” Rogue groused.

“Yes,” Scott said, evincing no disapproval of the fact.

“Then can’t I just… couldn’t I—“ Rogue trailed off, not sure what she was saying.

“You don’t know what to do with her,” Scott said. It wasn’t a question.

“No,” Rogue admitted.

“You want someone to tell you what to do, make it so you don’t have to think, you just have to obey.”

“I… I don’t…”

“It turned you on when I told you to sit down. You felt like a girl again, not a mutant with superpowered skin and muscles that can rip apart solid steel.”

Rogue briefly bit the inside of her cheek before flushing red with anger. “Who told you that, anyway?”

“Emma. Whatever you think of her, she knows her stuff.”

“Tell her to stay out of my head!” Rogue snapped.

“I don’t need to go into your head,” Emma said, coming up on Rogue’s left. “It’s written all over your face. And, honestly, in the goosepimples you’ve got all over that lovely body, just being within five feet of the man.”

Oh yes, Emma was naked. Pure goddamn succulence in every inch of her statuesque body. She looked of a piece with Scott, though where he was slim, she was expansive with curves. Those luscious breasts dominating her chest. Her wide hips thrusting out a fat ass from impossibly tall legs. The little X she’d shaved into her dark tuft of pubic hair, owning that she wasn’t a blonde, daring anyone to say anything about it when she looked so good with golden hair.

The best tits money could buy, the best body money could buy, whether it took exercise or surgery or God only knew what state-of-the-bleeding-art beauty treatments she paid for. She was still exquisite, Rogue could admit that. Venus in flesh and blood. Her gorgeousness only discernible from the ‘real’ body she’d been born with by just how ridiculously perfect she was. Not a pore out of place, not a split end on one follicle. And if she hadn’t been born with that piercing blue gaze, she definitely would’ve paid top dollar for it.

“Emma keeps me informed of the mental well-being of everyone on the team,” Scott said, managing to be chilly and executive even more-than-half-naked, with his totally naked partner at his side, talking to Rogue who was no chopped liver herself. “It’s strictly business.”

“Yes, I don’t have to tell Scott how to seduce women,” Emma mused. Somehow, her blunt nudity made it even worse how she openly leered at Rogue, sizing up her bared body for who knew what perversions. “But since it would make this so much easier if you were seduced by the best, I’d say keep giving her orders. She’s always had a crush on teacher, not that she’d ever admit it. Get her nice and hot by putting her through her paces. Then she’ll open right up for you.”

Rogue gritted her teeth. There was sex-positive and then there was listening to the former White Queen discuss how she should get laid! “How about I just shove my ladyparts in your face and let you talk all you want until that tongue gets me off?”