X-Men: The Beginnings of Corruption 02

"He's going to come," Emma announced.

Jean realized her presence with a look that made Emma feel younger than three shots of Botox. She crouched down on the other side of Rogue, now wearing a white mini dress whose designer Jean couldn't even guess at.

"And I don't think Rogue will be able to swallow all of it. No, he's been waiting for this all week. His body's been readying itself, knowing that not one drop will go to waste. And when he blows, it won't just go down Rogue's throat. It'll be all over her face, her tits—"

Emma took hold of the flannel vest formed by Rogue undoing her shirt. She helped her sweet little whore out of it before hanging it up.

"We mustn't let Rogue become a messy girl. There's a shower through the door. With a massaging showerhead, for those who get worked up. Rogue, you seemed worked up. Why not get started on that?"

As tight as Rogue was holding onto the man's dick, her right hand was quick to drop away and fall right down into her cut-offs. A moment later, the fly started to unzip itself with the motion going on beneath it.

Jean couldn't help but feel it, Rogue's pleasure hitting her like the mist from a hose spraying a car. It may not have been aimed at them, but it got Jean and Emma wet all the same.

Rogue had started just in time. Through the glass, they saw the tall man's head drift back, his shoulders drop, right before his hips jerked hard enough to uppercut Rogue. She moaned as she frigged herself. A shadow of arousal was now wet on her crotch. With a bone-deep thunder of sound from the man, he let Rogue have it. Jean and Emma's eyes met as they shared Rogue's whorish enjoyment—felt her downing cum like hot cocoa and riding her hand like a horse at full gallop. They knew her thoughts. They knewher.

She was thinking about what good cum her tongue was playing with. Virile cum. Warm cum. Delicious cum. She wanted more and neither of them could blame her.

The man could not have satisfied her anymore if his life depended on it. He shot a river of the stuff from his cock, more than enough to overflow and flood Rogue's chin before he was done, dripping off her face and onto that eminently washable floor. Finally, even Rogue gave up on swallowing it. She pulled back and simply let him bathe her face, thinking of nothing but the warm smothering of her features and her hand inside herself.

Rogue's own orgasm seemed almost trivial in comparison to the one that had given her a mask of white, but she was proud of having it, proud of sharing it even in some small way. She moaned gently, closed her eyes, and that was it. The satisfaction of it was far more intense than the pleasure, with Emma feeling a kind of pride for her. Even Jean felt happy for her friend, as Rogue licked her lips.

Rogue leaned her forehead against the wall, right beside that slowly yielding cock, and she kissed it once more. Lovingly. Gratefully.

Jean felt completely drained despite not having come at all. She didn't even have the strength to resist when Emma leaned Rogue out of the way, laying her down on the floor, and crawling over her to come face to face with Jean. Close enough to kiss.

They regarded each other, Jean losing herself in the supreme confidence in Emma's eyes. She was still staring into them when Emma reached over and pressed a button on the console. Rogue's man withdrew, his empty cock almost sheepishly retreating back through the hole. A few moments later he was replaced. The new cock was long and hard and ready.

"Suck it," Emma said, her lips brushing against Jean's when they parted.

"Why?" Jean returned, her voice sounding confused to her own ears.

"Because you want to." Emma's forehead touched Jean's, the two leaning into each other. Jean felt something run over her leg and when she looked down, she saw it was a small bottle of some clear liquid handled by Emma. "Use it. Get warmed up. I'll get him started up."

It had the flavor of a dare and Emma only moved when Jean moved. When Jean picked up the bottle, undid the cap, and poured out a dollop of the oily lotion into her hand, Emma held the cock between the forefingers of either hand and gave it a long, slow lick. Just as she would a lollipop.

Jean set down the bottle. She rubbed her hands together. The lotion was warm, slimy, smooth. Like a physical product of Emma's tender licks along the shaft of this anonymous man's cock. Jean brought her hands to her face. She pictured herself, like Macaulay Culkin, holding her hands to her cheeks as she screamed. No, she wasn't that shocked. She was just rubbing the lotion in, into her cheeks, then along her jawline, down her throat. While Emma's tongue lolled out of her mouth, again and again, to curl over a man's dick and gently prim him.

Emma left the cock stingingly hard to go to Jean once more. She peeled the shoulder of Jean's dress from her skin and pulled the rest of it down, lower, over her body until it ringed her waist. Jean's bra opened in the front. Her bare breasts were as white as Emma's, from a lack of tanning, not from design. In the pale flesh, her hard nipples seemed red. On fire.

As the cock seemed to strain for attention in the background, Emma picked up the bottle again and poured more out for Jean to catch. Jean obediently coated her body, smoothing the fine oil across her firm breasts. She almost enjoyed Emma's hungry attention more than the lotion's sensual feel, at least until she began to rub it into her nipples. She loved circling those... playing with them... making them gleam and glint as much as the rest of her. She covered her belly with the same warm sheen. Her hands delved lower...

"No," Emma rasped, her voice as stinging as a ruler rapped across Jean's knuckles. "We mustn't get oil all over your lovely dress. And you're neglecting our poor guest."

Jean looked over at the wall. The head was turning purple, more aroused by Emma's neglect than it had been by her ministrations. Like she was refilling Jean's wineglass, Emma dumped more lotion into Jean's hands. "Don't think of it was a blowjob or a handjob. Just think of polishing it. You want it nice and wet, that's all."

Rogue was on her back, almost asleep, her only spark of consciousness devoted to running her fingers over her face, forcing dollops of cum into her gaping mouth. Madelyne Pryor was in the other room, shower running, mind broadcasting masturbatory pleasure. Colleen and Misty and all the rest were driving their heads against the wall, such was their frenzy for the anonymous cocks offered to them. And a man's cock was right there, given to Jean without any thought, any conditions, any connection on either side. All that mattered was if she wanted it or not.

Jean put her open palms on either side of the cock. She closed them slowly. The cock was firm in her hands and hotter than she'd expected, but not strange. Not obscene. Not wrong. She ran her hands up and down. She made the cock gleam in the light. Seeing it, doing that simple task, Jean's mind was as loud as a roaring stadium. But she wasn't picking up thoughts. Wasn't eavesdropping. She was thinking.

She leaned in and guided the cock over her slick flesh, from her cleavage to her breasts to the hollow of her throat. She let it slip over her nipples, circle her breasts,feel herlike it was a lover all on its own. Then, though her hands slipped and slid over her oiled-up skin, she squeezed her breasts together with the cock in the middle. It was throbbing so hard it beat a tattoo against her heart, the blood in it as hot as that rushing through her veins. Above her, the man pounded on the frosted glass like he was trying to get in.

But Emma was growing restless waiting for the show to start. Her hand was on Jean's back, as if in support, but her fingers were stroking the crease of Jean's spine where she went down over the cock. It was not an intimate touch, but it made Jean's clit pulse so hard she felt guilty.

Emma's other hand reached past Jean. She gripped the cock at the base. She lifted it out of Jean's cleavage. She aimed it at her mouth.

Jean looked at it, its size and its hardness, and for the first time wondered if she could do it. It had seemed like such a simple thing before, such a small thing; playing one last game with Emma. But now it was here in front of her and she didn't know—

Yes, she did. Fuck it, she couldn't even pretend that she had doubts about this. She wanted to drink a man's cum and spit it in Emma's face so she'd know she wouldn't even get Jean's table scraps from now on. Scott would be so satisfied he wouldn't so much as remember Emma existed. It was a new start, a new Jean, and she would never again let Emma forget that she had been the Black Queen, and white only moved first in Chess.

She moved in as if to kiss the stranger's cock, parting her lips at the last moment, sliding them narrowly over the tip and glans, constricting them at the collar, and sucking delicately as she lavished her tongue all over the cockhead.

Judging by the little thrust the stranger gave, he enjoyed it. Jean did too. She almost couldn't believe it was real; how delicious his cock tasted, how good it felt in her mouth. It was like a more intimate version of a French kiss. Instead of a tongue in her mouth, a cock. And getting bigger, swelling with the pleasure she was giving it. Hell, soon he would grow larger than even Scott! She worried that he would get too big to fit through the glory hole.

"Why do you think I had him oiled up?" Emma said, answering Jean's unspoken question. It was shocking to her that she'd become uninhibited enough to broadcast her thoughts instead of shielding them, but what shocked her more was Emma's closeness. She was snuggled around Jean, pressed against her back with her chin on Jean's shoulder, smiling too wickedly not to be up to something.

Jean looked down and saw Emma was kneeling on her bare legs, thighs spread, Rogue's face beneath her. The Southerner had cleaned her entire face of cum, but some lingered in her hair, matching her trademark white stripe as she ate Emma's pussy.

"I'll have her do you next," Emma said, grinding her pelvis down into Rogue as she stared unblinkingly at the hard cock.

"You're a goddamn whore," Jean muttered.

"Don't worry, you can be one too."

Jean ignored Emma, ignored Rogue, ignored all the other women doing what she was doing. She went to the man and she sucked him deep into her mouth, lips crawling over inch after inch of steel-hard shaft, tongue busily exploring the territory her mouth had captured, cheeks pulling in as she stopped tosuck. She mouthed his cock with undisguised enjoyment, even if she couldn't take it all.

Emma helped her there. The blonde tangled her hands in Jean's hair and pushed her down on the man's pick, and he rammed himself forward. Jean wasn't surprised, not at a man being obedient to Emma Frost. In fact, all Jean could do was smile at the lewd 'suggestion'. That is, she would smile if she weren't gagging on cock with another four inches left to go.

Jean's head bobbed, forced up and down by Emma's hands like a basketball. Over and over again, the man's cock was slammed into her mouth. She still couldn't suck it, but that was the point. Making her gag. Making her take it. Until she had to come up for air. Emma let her, for all the good it did. The moment the cockhead had popped out of her mouth, Emma had replaced it with her tongue. Like a vampire, she sucked what was left of Jean's breath right out of her.

When she let up, Jean's head was spinning. She was unable to resist as Emma clasped her head in both hands and, now with a bit of delicacy, urged her down. "Relax, Ms. Grey," Emma said with gentle fervor. "You must relax if you're to take it all. And youwilltake it all."

Jean suddenly had an insistent thought, like a song stuck in her head. It was the knowledge of how to relax her throat muscles, how to draw even the largest cock down through her mouth and toward her stomach. The tricks of the trade, by Emma Frost. The very thoughts out of her head. It was an intimate gesture, and Jean took it as a peace offering.

She was still unbelieving of the hot, hard flesh filling her mouth, moving every instant from the roof of her mouth to the hollow of her cheeks to the bottom of her tongue. She could feel a vein throbbing in it; proof that she hadn't just putsomethingin her mouth, it was part of someone, it was alive. And then she heard a voice that wasn't Emma's, wasn't Rogue, wasn't Madelyne's.

"Hey, who that new girl?" Misty asked. She and Colleen were taking a break, leaning on each other as they watched Jean work. "She's doin' good work, whoever she is."

"Jean Grey. X-Men," Colleen answered. Like Misty, she kept her voice down, but Jean could hear the thoughts that preceded the words.

"Get out of here."

While they spoke, Emma put a hand on Jean's knee. She kept one hand on the back of Jean's neck, gently petting her there to urge her onward, almost like she was petting a cat, but it seemed more important that her fingers were gently squeezing Jean's leg.

"Nope. That's her. There've been like forty clones of her, so I recognize the face."

Emma whispered in Jean's ear, her hand tracing up Jean's thigh. "Can you feel it at the back of your throat yet? A nice hard cock feels so incredible back there—you're going to love it."

Jean thought Emma's hand felt very nice on her thigh.

"You think that's the real deal?" Misty was asking

"Don't know. Like you said, seems awfully good at sucking cock for the X-Men's First Lady."

"Bet the real Jean would spit. If she spits, we'll know."

Jean resolved to swallow.

"Does it make you hot," Emma asked, increasing her pressure on Jean to suck up still more of that anonymous prick, "knowing just how much cock you've taken in that mouth?"

And, with her hand in Jean's hair, Emma made her nod.

"Of course it does. You're only human, after all." She tapped at Jean's forehead. "This may be the Phoenix, scourge of the cosmos, but down here..." She moved her hand up between Jean's thighs. "Here, you're all woman. And I know what women like..."

The pleasured moan that Jean let loose only to be muffled by the cock stuffed in her mouth did what her conscience couldn't. It made her feel ashamed. She tried to close her legs, but Emma's hand was already there, touching her panties. She couldn't move. And her silk panties felt so much better with Emma's fingers on the other side of them.

Jean wanted to tell Emma it was wrong, even think it and let Emma overhear. But she didn't.

"I know it feels good," Emma said, one finger stroking Jean's scalp, one finger pushed inside her cunt. "I know you want to come..."

She pushed harder on the back of Jean's head. The same irresistible pressure she was using to finger Jean's hole.

Her eyes watered, her jaw would be sore come morning, but Jean took the unyielding force Emma put on the back of her head and she sucked down every inch of the man's cock and when her lips were practically at his balls and his cockhead was in her gullet, Emma was all over her. Kissing her face, licking at the last half-inch of cock that was stretching her lips so wide, and working her fingers over the straining hardness of Jean's nipples. It was in much as celebration as it was in lust.

Then Emma stopped with one last kiss on Jean's bulging cheek. "Look. Look over there. Another pair of whores, just like us."

Jean looked. She gasped. Misty had stood, Colleen was still on her knees. All Jean could see was her long mane of blonde hair shaking between Misty's strong black thighs. Misty's prosthetic hand was on the crown of Colleen's head, being rough with her, mashing her face between Misty's legs. A look of pleasure on Misty's face as she dominated her.

Once, Jean had been Misty's roommate. It amazed her to think that she was capable of such a thing. But then, she was too. Her mind leapt to wondering what Scott was capable of. What he'd done with Emma.

Now Jean barely even thought of the cock in her mouth beyond the perverse fact of its presence. What Emma was doing to her was far more remarkable. She was kissing Jean's breasts—her lips were so hot—her fingers were stroking Jean's cunt and they were soft, soft but being so hard with her. Her body was not her own. It was Emma's, and Emma was doing such wonderful things with it.

Then Jean actually felt someone kiss her ass. She was so sensitive, she even felt the little draw on her powers before Rogue's inhibitor corralled her power and sent Jean's life force back into her.

"Rogue's hungry for more cum," Emma said, a wicked grin on her face as she pressed her pillowy breasts into Jean's back and jammed her wet pussy into Jean's ass. She didn't get close enough for Rogue to lick her, the Southerner lying paralyzed with lust on the floor. "Let's give it to her, Jean. Let's cum together."

Emma laughed at her pun as she pulled Jean up a ways, into a sultry rhythm of their hips rocking together, reaching around to play with Jean's cunt as well as her own. Jean held onto the man's prick with her mouth, giving up a few inches but not the whole thing, grabbing the vacated inches with both hands to keep them for herself. And with a diamond hand, Emma grabbed Rogue by the hair and hauled her between their crouching legs. Rogue looked up expectantly, wondrously.

Then it hit her. Jean was so used to her powers warning her, of getting pre-echoes of thoughts and intentions proceeding violence, argument,everything, that she was completely unprepared for her own flesh betraying her. She came. Her body was struck again and again by blasts of pure pleasure, and she could not control how it was thrown by them.

Somehow Emma's fingers stayed inside her, rubbing tirelessly, mercilessly, like she was trying to start a fire. And she did: Jean came so hard it became liquid, clear sweet fluid shooting from her and onto Rogue below her. She was aware of Emma coming behind her, ejaculating, most of her juices landing on Rogue's face but some hitting as high as Jean's ass.

Below them, Rogue was awash in their mingled ejaculate, wet, sticky, degraded, but left gasping with a rush of vulgar exhilaration. Tears were running down Jean's cheeks. She felt weak as a kitten. She'd never come like that before. She didn't know if she ever wanted to again.

Roaring with the dregs of her climax, Emma grabbed Jean's head with both hands and forced her down on the cock still in her mouth. She took it all. Her lips moved effortlessly from one end of his cock to the other. She felt his pounding cockhead hit the back of her choke, throttle her, but she still got her breath and she bobbed her head without one word from Emma. She even thought she could taste a woman on his deep-seated root—something of the flavor and tang the room had filled with.

Emma embraced her from behind, head falling to her back. "He needs to come so bad--he's gonna blow your head off, Jean. Take it. Take it all, youwhore!"

The man fucked into Jean's mouth like he could hear them, going as deep as he could before his cock exploded. Hot spurts of cum that shot right down Jean's throat. She swallowed as fast as she could, though his cum was so warm she thought it might burn her stomach. She gulped him down again and again, tasting his salty flavor afresh each time—swallowing and swallowing until he had nothing left to give her.

She'd given a stranger a blowjob. He'd come in her mouth. She'd swallowed it. Three times Jean would've called absolutely impossible at the start of the evening; now they seemed inevitable, fated. And she didn't stop there. She sucked at his softening cock like she was pulling the hardness out of him, grinding a little with her teeth, lapping at little with her tongue, coaxing a few more drops of cum from him and savoring every last taste. Until he was drained, and no amount of teasing or cajoling would get anything more from his well-used balls.