X-Men: Savage Land Scandal Ch. 02

As always, Emma Frost was fully nude for her massage, her body showing not one hint of a tanline--invaluable, given the truly outrageous costumes she wore. So much as a bra strap could ruin the expanse of skin she delighted in showing off. Her skin was all softly pale, pinking slightly where Tessa rubbed, but in all other aspects almost albino. The resemblance was increased by the light platinum shade she'd dyed her hair this week, almost matching her skin tone.

"Lower," Emma ordered. "Harder." She always liked things harder, right up until she gave the fateful cry 'Ooh, Tessa, not so rough!' Then she'd pout and punish Tessa, for her own good of course.

Tessa ran her hands lower, finding the small of Emma's back as soft and smooth as the rest of her, like liquid diamond. The muscles were tense there, all the stress of planning and executing the capture, but they obediently loosened for Tessa's fingers until they were as warm and ruddy as flower petals. Emma never carried stress for long. No matter how wickedly she acted, the tension never stayed with her. It melted away with the pleasure of ordering Tessa to attend to her.

Oh, how Tessa hated her.

"I saidlower, darling," Emma murmured, her gentle chiding indicating that she had already selected a suitable punishment for whatever crime against self-indulgence she would find Tessa guilty of.

Emma's ass was as perfect as the rest of her, popping up just enough from the ruler-straight line of her spine to be noticeable, perfectly matching the protuberance of her breasts from her slim body, two halves of an hourglass figure, but neither nearly as excessive as the porn stars and rap singers she found so distasteful in pop culture. The smug, snobby bitch. Tessa dug her fingers hard into what little meat there was on those skinny bones, knowing Emma would resent being manhandled in such a fashion, knowing she would love having an excuse to reintroduce Tessa to the whip, the riding crop, the paddle.

Tessa hated her and everything she stood for. Hated being forced to participate in the Hellfire Club's neverending sex games. Hated having cocaine snorted off her body and then feeling its buzz herself when this Queen or that kissed her. Hated performing stripteases on command, sometimes whenever she heard a particular song or when a specific word was said. Hated wearing a collar and chain with that special tag readingIf found, please return to the White Queenso even if Emma wasn't holding the leash, everyone would know whose property she was. Hated licking Emma to orgasm to wake her up in the morning, fingering her to orgasm so she could get a good night's rest at dusk, hated pouring spirits down her own nude body for Emma's private wine-tasting parties, hated wearing butt plugs and vibrating panties under her clothes to liven up any day Emma deemed boring, hated being fucked with a strap-on when Emma needed to let off some steam, hated tasting Emma's last lover when she ate her out or even kissed her, hated being taken for walks on her hands and knees around the Massacheutetts Academy, hated filming Emma while she fucked that Firestar brat, hated masturbating for Emma's amusement during long trips, and most of all, she hated when Emma said something smutty like--

"I think my back's all done dear." Emma turned on her side, hand on her hip. Tessa finally saw color on her--blood-red nipples and sapphire-blue eyes. And, down below, between her legs. A gathering of red arousal below a tuft of white hair, shaved into the shape of a diamond. Last month, it'd been the Hellfire Club's sigil. The month before that, it'd been Emma's initials. For Tessa's birthday, it'd been her name in cursive. Tessa could've blushed, remembering what she'd eaten her birthday cake off of. "Time to massage my front."

No matter how much she didn't want to, Tessa would just have to grin and bear it. She didn't like it, but it was the mission.

Suddenly, the alarm rang. Tessa's head swiveled to a nearby console to see security footage of the X-Men running down the hall.

"Can't anyone build a death-trap that will hold someone for longer than an episode of Murphy fucking Brown?" she demanded, livid.

***

The X-Men ran through the corridors of the ship, each cavalierly dealing with whatever internal defenses they were best-suited for, all in well-trained unison. Scott was the only one who spoke, calling out as he blew away a turret with his optic blast.

"Good work getting loose, Storm! I know Emma designed the system to force you to function at the level of an infant, but she must not've counted on you having the coordination of a young girl, even at six months old!"

For a moment, the blast of lightning Storm was using to melt through a steel door burned a little brighter. "Yes. She must not have known."

Scott dodged a whirling buzzsaw and casually decapitated it with a flick of his visor. For him, it was like a quick session in the Danger Room. Not even at Level 5! "It must've taken intense concentration to build up your control. I can't imagine the pressure you were under—not just that, but having to force yourself to relax your body to pick the lock. To say nothing of the raw force of will it would take to get to your lockpicks in the first place! And with your claustrophobia! Imagine, all that tension, that unbearable pressure as you tried to escape, then finally—release!" He quickly took in the other X-Men, and couldn't help but think of them as struggling when compared to how he and Ororo were dealing with the security. "All of you could stand to take a lesson from Storm's book!"

Logan went "Ha!", but aside from that, Beast, Nightcrawler, and Wolverine are listened to Jean's quick psychic communication. They had all smelled or otherwise sensed exactly how Storm had gotten free, and all of them had decided to pretend it had never happened. Helped along by Jean's mental threat to give them a fanatical obsession with child beauty pageants if they so much as wrote it down in their diaries. To Scott, she sent a quick reminder that Ororo was too modest to appreciate such excessive praise.

All of which left Colossus the odd man out, as he slapped Ororo on the back in a rare moment of peace. "Da, very good work, Storm. I wouldn't mind you teaching me how to do that!"

He would never understand why the others all glared at him for wanting to know more about picking locks, but then, he found many Westerners quite odd.

***

In the short time they had available before the X-Men arrived at their doorstep, Emma elected not to dress, always having held that unabashed nudity was preferable to hastily-dressed modesty (it was important to Tessa's cover that she not complain). She roved from one screen on the monitor bank to another. The only thing that changed was which location the X-Men were rampaging through, virtually unchallenged.

"Blast!" Emma swore. "The Trapster assured me that these defenses would be enough to waylay the Hulk!" She turns to Tessa with some of her serenity restored. "It just goes to show, never trust a man who has called himself Paste-Pot Pete, even for an instant."

"Shall we prepare for battle, mistress?"

Emma shook her head. "The X-Men's feeble brains I could easily overwhelm, if only they didn't have our wayward Black Queen with her. With the other fools distracting me, I would be easy prey for her admittedly wonderful psychic talent. She'd sweep aside all my mental defenses, invade the sanctum of my mind, penetrate deep into my core--!"

Even if she were wearing her usual corset, it would be hard for Tessa not to notice how hard Emma's nipples had become. "So we flee?"

Emma refocused on her, eyes piercing. "The Hellfire Club does notflee.We simply do not dignity vulgarly overpowered foes with a confrontation. Come, to the escape pod. We'll see how our favorite mutants do at escaping from an airship a mile off the ground." And, with trademark poise, Emma flipped up a glass shield and pressed a large red button. "Which is about to self-destruct."

Tessa had always wondered what that button did.

Abandoning her neatly-folded clothing in favor of a graceful, dignified stride to the far wall, Emma opened the hatch to the escape pod.

As enticing as the view of Emma was from behind, Tessa found it even harder not to notice that the pod only seated one. "Umm, mistress... where's my pod?"

Emma turned back with a beaming smile. "Don't be silly, dear. You'll sit on my lap."

***

The X-Men could've knocked down the reinforced door to the bridge with an optic blast from Cyclops, a burst of psychic power from Phoenix, or lightning bolt from Storm, but Scott thought Colossus breaking that door down with his bare hands sent the right signal. He hardly had to give the order; just looked at Piotr and then the door was a wadded tissue on the floor, just happening to be made of solid steel.

Across the room, Tessa and Emma were in what looked like a small booth, Emma naked and Tessa straddling her.

"I was wondering why she was so interested in Jean..." Kurt muttered, and then winced as Jean telekinetically pulled one of his furs out.

"It's time to pay the piper, 'your highness!'" Scott shouted, a dramatic finger pointed in Emma's direction, his other hand on his visor. The other X-Men were similarly ready to vaporize Emma where she stood.

Emma just looked at them, quite amused. "I think not. Not unless one of you knows how to pilot a ship made from black-market HYDRA technology!"

A moment later, Beast asked "Why is everyone looking at me?"

"And on that note..." Emma said smugly, pulling a lever. The door to the booth slammed shut, and then it just disappeared—only visible as a rapidly shrinking blur through the porthole in the door.

"Getting' real tired of that witch always having a card up her sleeve!" Logan growled, visibly struggling to retract his claws.

"Sheathe it, Wolverine, we've got bigger problems." Cyclops was staring at the countdown displayed on the control console. Two minutes. With the White Queen, he doubted it was how long until the microwave popcorn was ready. "Colossus, break the door Emma went through!"

"Da, comrade," Colossus replied, even as his metal fists clanged against the door.

When it went, it was instantly sucked into the airstream outside the ship, the turbulent wind whipping through the bridge. Cyclops fearlessly ran to the breach in the hull, looking down to see a distant canopy of jungle trees and volcanic rock. In the distance, Emma's escape pod had deployed parachutes.

Scott thought he might be able to sever them with a strategic optic blast, but dropping Emma Frost a couple hundred feet wouldn't help them get off the ship. Not to mention the Professor wouldn't approve; not in the slightest.

"Alright, Colossus, Wolverine, you two are too heavy for our fliers to carry, but you can survive the fall. You'll have to take the hard way down."

Wolverine looked down. It looked like a helluva long way, and him on the short side to begin with. "Sometimes havin' a mutant healing factor is a real bitch. Fuck it, I'm not gonna be the second asshole out the door." He jumped.

Piotr looked after Logan with worry. The Canadian still hadn't landed and he was up next.

Scott clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Colossus. I know exactly how much stress your body can take and a fall from this height is well within range. I've done the calculations in my head."

"Hope you remembered to carry the one," Kurt gibed. Colossus gave him a hard stare, while Scott didn't dignity him with one.

"I just hope I don't land on anything important... or anyone." With a deep breath, Colossus let himself fall through the hole.

Not even glancing after him, Scott faced Kurt and Ororo. "You're at bat. Nightcrawler, teleport straight down as far as you can. Storm can take it from there. Hopefully, it won't be too much strain on either of you."

Nightcrawler saluted smartly with his tail. "I trust you, bossman. And even if it doesn't work, I've always wanted to die under a beautiful woman."

Ororo punched him in the shoulders. "Ifwe crash, that fur should make a soft landing forme."

"Even better, I like being on top."

"One minute," Scott said grimly.

Kurt put his arms around Ororo, quite gentlemanly despite his flirting, and they were gone in an inferno of black smoke. They reappeared in mid-air outside, weightless for an instant, before Nightcrawler teleported them lower still.

"Alright," Scott said, satisfied to only be addressing Jean and Hank. "Phoenix, you're going to have to float the other two of us down. Think you can manage it?"

"With my new powers? Certainly. In fact, I probably could've carried Logan too."

"Meh," Scott shrugged.

***

All of the Savage Lands could see the destruction of the strange visitor to their skies. It burst like a solid raincloud—first, lit up with lightning inside it like there would be found within a thunderhead, then abruptly expanding into an orange and black cloud, many times its old size. Then it rained fire.

For Zaladane, it was the last argument she needed. The People of the Sun, who had grudgingly gathered for what many were sure was another false prophecy, now watched in awe the ship of the outsiders broke open. Like an egg watching into something wondrous.

"You see!" Zaladane cried shrilly, beyond reason, beyond sanity, her voice echoing through the vast courtyard. Only a tiny section of it was filled with what remained of the Sun Empire, but that just meant all who ever present heard her voice. "Garokk awakes! Garokk commends to us a vessel! Let us march, my acolytes! Let us accept our god's blessing! Let us restore the City of the Sun God to all former glory!"

The cheer that went up seemed to never end, transitioning seamlessly into the echo of their boots upon the stone tile, as they marched into the Savage Land.