The Thing That Came On X-Mas Eve

Ororo could not hold back loud gasps as the long muscular appendage thrust deep into her, probing, exploring her depths beyond what any normal tongue or phallus could, while the strong clawed hands reached back up to respectively squeeze one heaving breast and a trembling buttock. She threw back her head and moaned loudly.

Goddess, Ororo thought, fighting back the urge to run, scream, or cry. It could not be that she was being excited so much by this awful, hateful thing. Not that way. Not again.

************************************

Logan almost stumbled as he approached the darkened Mansion, reeling with the shocking awareness of the scents still vivid in the air. New blood and ancient things, drenching the mansion environs, how could he have missed them before?

He cursed his foolishness and kicked the door in. He had no time to waste.

************************************

Ororo moaned loudly. Her legs were spread far apart, trembling with the burning pleasure from her core, while the inhuman tongue reached impossibly deep into her. One of the creature's oversized hands stopped kneading her buttocks and slid one clawed finger to the entrance of her anus, and her legs weakened at last. She reached forward, her hands falling on the large horn-like extensions protruding from the monster's brow. Ignoring the hard, cold texture, she grasped the bony ridges, first for support, then for leverage to better push her groin against the creature's muzzle, seeking to rub her clitoris harder against the upper base of its teeth.

Storm was already gasping at the rapid pace that signaled her incoming climax, when the N'Garai tongue suddenly slid out of her and licked at her painfully swollen clitoris just once more before the whole mouth withdrew from her sex, instants before she would have exploded in orgasm. Only the N'Garai's hold on her waist and breast kept her from stumbling forward in surprise, anger and shame fighting disappointment at the interrupted cunnilingus.

Goddess, she thought. She had truly wanted to come in the monster's mouth.

Could the White Queen have been truly right about her?

CHAPTER 5: SHE KNOWS WHEN YOU ARE NAUGHTY

"Ah, Xavier trained you well," the blonde woman said, in the gloomy basement, her voice full of frigid amusement. "Breaking your resistance may be more interesting."

Storm's arms and legs were spread wide apart, bound at wrists and ankles on a complex mechanical frame slanted forty-five degrees off the floor, while built-in devices blocked active manifestation of her mutant powers. Elsewhere in the complex, other X-Men were also held prisoner, after their defeat at the hands, or mind, of the woman before her.

Emma Frost, White Queen of the Hellfire Club's Inner Circle, leaned over Storm. Her thin lips, coated in blood-red gloss, approached the fleshy, wide mouth of the bound X-man, before opening to whisper: "I dearly love the ones who fight."

The White Queen had a cold, detached beauty, despite the blatant excess of her attire. The tightly laced corset reduced her waist dramatically and emphasized the suspect fullness of her bosom, the snug white leather lifting and pressing together the round, hard globes. The silk white thong barely covered her pubis, and the stiletto-heeled, thigh-high white boots made her slender legs appear longer and more graceful, while the long cape of thick white fur completed her image of lush fetishistic decadence. Yet the expression in her carefully made-up features was one of apparent boredom. Only her icy blue eyes betrayed the hungers inside as her lips met Storm's.

Storm tried to fight the kiss, but it was just the physical part of the White Queen's assault. While their lips clashed, mighty psi-probes struck at her mind, demanding the unlocking of all the X-Men's secrets. A lesser mind would have surrendered instantly, but despite the White Queen's skill and the pain that resistance produced, Storm endured.

Minutes later, the White Queen relented, withdrawing her probes, a new look of respect in her narrow eyes. She remained laying partially over Storm, her body pressed tightly to hers, the milky paleness of one contrasting with the rich cocoa skin of the other.

"You are a strong one, dear." Frost licked at her now moist lips. "So very proud and determined. I doubt even Xavier could break that stubborn defense without destroying your mind in the process."

"Do your worst, witch," Storm muttered weakly, still reeling from the ordeal.

"It would be a pity to leave such a beautiful young thing as a mindless vegetable," the White Queen said, playing with a lock of Storm's unbound hair, admiring its pure silver sheen. "Some of my associates may have no objection to that, but I do hate needless brutality; especially if there are more... interesting alternatives."

Storm blinked hard. What was the harpy doing now?

"Ah, so that prude Xavier neglected certain areas in his training," Frost said, eyes closed as she smiled broadly. "Let's see what you are truly made of, darling."

Storm gasped in surprise as an electrical shock ran from her neck to toes, followed by strange waves of warmth that flooded her senses with fully unexpected sensations. Instead of pain, the White Queen was now using pleasure as her tool. Frost was not actually touching Storm intimately, yet her body was reacting as if being stimulated by countless simultaneous caresses, some which had no physical equivalent, but which created an undeniable need for more.

"No! Stop that!" Storm complained nervously.

"Why? You seem to like it," Frost replied with an expression of mock innocence, while casually moving a gloved finger to play with the now very obviously erect nipples poking through the fabric of Storm's tight black top. "And it just keeps getting better."

Storm breathed deeply as the ethereal stimuli grew in power and insistence. The White Queen just sought to weaken her resolve, to unnerve her to allow access at the locked memories in her head, something she could not allow. Whatever she felt was just illusory, lies forced upon her. But to her chagrin, it continued to affect her, and her physical arousement rose slowly but inexorably, until she was literally squirming with tense excitement, rocked by fleeting, unfulfilling pleasures that promised so much more but stopped short of delivering.

"I could make you come instantly, you know," Frost said. "But isn't the trip better than the destination?"

Storm ignored the cruel teasing. Despite the rising frustration, she was actually glad that Frost denied her release. Not only did she know that surrendering to desire would imply surrendering her mind, she also refused to openly orgasm from the ministrations of such an enemy. She would not give the White Queen that satisfaction.

Frost increased the psychic stimulation of her captive's pleasure centers, stopping just short of dangerously overloading the nervous system. She had planned to plunder the girl's mind the instant of finally allowing her climatic release, but somehow, Storm was stubbornly refusing to reach such a point, even if her nerves were made to burn with the forced pleasure.

Appreciating the challenge, the White Queen made her manipulations more complex and insidious. Mental deep-reading was more art than science, and even her power could be tasked by the peculiar complexities of some minds, so she side-stepped the fortified higher rational levels and probed the fuzzy edges of the more basic empathic ranges, seeking the shrouded areas of sexual conditioning, of fetish and rooted frustration.

To her surprise, she realized that Storm's resistance was only partially voluntary. Powerful psychic blocks inhibiting sexual responses already existed deep in her subconscious. They did not appear to be Xavier's handiwork, and could hint at deep psychological issues that could be useful to unravel.

"More and more interesting," Frost said, cocking an eyebrow in amusement. Violently conflicting aspects of the young woman's personality were associated to the blocks, and Frost began to pry at them, while still assaulting the upper consciousness with erotic over-stimulation. Faint echoes of what should be maddening pleasure reached her through the deepening connection between their minds, and she smiled. Buried deep in the dark zones of Storm's unconscious, repressed impulses or memories could be the backdoor to the rational mind or general memory. She focused and pried harder.

>>>He loomed over her, tall and lean, but enormously

powerful, with surprisingly wide shoulders and upper

back, from which grew huge membranous wings connected

to his long, wiry arms. He screeched with inhuman

voice, while his phallus, equally inhuman in length

and girth, thrust deep into her wet sex, overpowering

her body with the brutal pleasure, just as his exotic,

irrational allure overpowered her volition. The hard

beak of his elongated head lowered and he extended a

long, rough tongue to lick at her jostling breasts,

as he began to hump harder and faster. She heard the

voices of her fellow X-Men faintly calling out to her,

just before a savage orgasm violently obliterated her

fragile consciousness.<<<

Emma staggered backwards, gasping, stunned speechless by the power of the unlocked memory that had flooded her own consciousness, overwhelming her array of psi-shields. She had to grab at the restraining rack to keep from falling to the ground.

"Goddess!" Storm muttered weakly, shaking her head, also stunned by the flashback. "What-What did you do?"

"What was THAT thing?" the White Queen asked, still dazed with shock. Head and wings were like those of some flying dinosaur, she recalled, but it had a roughly humanoid shape. Had Storm really copulated with such a being? The powerful vividness of the memory seemed unquestionable. But how could that be? And how could it have been so incredibly pleasurable? She had almost climaxed herself during the all too brief seconds of the shared sensory recall, nearly losing the mental connection as well. Even now, she was quite aware of the nearly painful stiffness of her nipples and the sudden wetness spreading between her trembling legs.

"You are full of surprises, my dear." Frost brushed her straight blonde hair away from her face, and breathed deeply, seeking to compose herself.

"A Pteradon, or something like that, was it? What was that thing? Did you really fuck it?"

"I did not-!" Storm began, before clenching her fists and shaking her head, her lips pressed tightly together. A single name filled her mind: Sauron.

"Oh, I never suspected you had something like that in you, dear, quite literally! Such a lovely nice girl, one of Xavier's noble pupils, being so, so naughty!" Frost laughed, staring with new appreciation at the captive mutant. "So who's this 'Sauron'? Disgusting to look at, but he really could make you come, couldn't he?"

"I had no choice! Sauron has irresistible powers of mesmerism. I was in his thrall and could not resist-!"

"Oh, I could see that! Who would want to?"

"You hateful-!"

"Does your righteous mentor Xavier know about this little episode? Oh, he doesn't. Interesting." She smiled broadly, leaning back over Storm, and carefully resumed her psi-probing. But confirming information on the X-Men was no longer her priority. "And was that the only time that you entertained tall, green and hideous?"

"NO!" Storm protested struggling against her bonds. "Don't dare to-!"

"Oh, come on, let me see!" The White Queen laughed, her eyes sparkling.

"NO!"

>>>The sheets covering the wide bed were smooth silk,

perhaps unique in the whole Savage Land, contrasting

with the rough texture of his body. His grey skin was

hard and cold on hers, and only his oversized phallus

thrusting deeply into her sex was warm at all, being

well-coated by her hot intimate fluids. The ridged

and craggy appearance of his thin frame, but not the

thinness itself, continued onto his shaft and she had

to gasp with reluctant pleasure, fully aware of every

rough irregularity along its surface as it pierced her

silken depths.<<<

Emma gasped as well, the new flashback filling her awareness. Her hands went to her own sex in purely automatic reaction, while her mind sought to better grasp and adjust at the influx of sensations.

>>>He possessed her with brutal urgency, the need of

the countless centuries of his dormancy being finally

fulfilled, and wasted no time or effort on foreplay or

caresses during the coitus. His granite-like hands

clasped her wrists, vise-like, and he pumped with

monomaniacal concentration between her long spread

legs, enjoying her flesh with cold, utterly detached

disregard. She felt her own orgasm approach, to her

total disbelief. Garrokk was extraordinarily well

endowed, and despite her furious jealousy, the evil

priestess Zaldane had worked on Storm skillfully,

preparing her for him quite adequately. But still

she could not believe how much pleasure she was

experiencing while being used with such cruelly

selfish disdain, and in such a despicable situation.

Her body, ignoring all such qualms, plunged her into

a sudden, intense orgasm.<<<

"Oh, my," Emma muttered as the recollections faded, much like the last tremors of her sympathetic orgasm were doing.

"Goddess," Storm gasped, her voice heavy with her climax. "That... It was almost like the real... How-?"

"I wasn't expecting that, either," Emma Frost said. "Not that I'm complaining. That was even better than the first!"

Storm remained silent, trying to bring her breathing into control, while Frost stretched by her side with the warm afterglow of her fading pleasure.

"And who was that one now?" Frost asked, smiling. "Ah. Garrokk, the Petrified Man?"

"Don't! Get out of my mind!"

"A self-styled god? Well, at least he was godly enough where it counts the most," she laughed. "Certainly was as rock-hard as his name implied. You do meet the most interesting people."

"It was the only way to save my friends from being executed by-"

"I'm sure, yes," Frost said, her mind beginning to probe again deep inside Storm's dark memories. "And I suppose no other enemy ever got between those long, luscious legs of yours, mm?"

"You have no right to-"

"Oh, but I want to."

The White Queen was prepared, yet the further finds in Storm's mind still surprised her. The power of the hidden memories and the deep psychic rapport made each fragmented memory feel as true and vital as reality itself for the two of them. While the scenes only played out partially as Storm struggled against her probing, Emma still experienced two further orgasms in rapport with the captive X-Man, reliving astounding moments of wild, often violent, yet always extremely pleasurable sex.

Both women moaned and squirmed together, and often both cried out loudly in unison, until the thinner, unbound blonde slowly moved off the rack and collapsed to her knees, spent, on the floor besides it.

"Why, you do get around, my dear!" Emma finally gasped, still short of breath from the intense mental experience. From mating with savage jungle beasts in a traveling circus while mind-controlled by the mutant Mesmero, to being taken by force in truly anatomically impossible ways by the reality-warping Proteus, the range of Storm's exploits was amazing.

"Mutants, wild animals, even aliens? Who could think that such a so-perfect do-gooder could be such a slut?"

"I am not a slut," Storm spat, with fire in her eyes.

"I'm nearly jealous. In less than a dozen liaisons you have put most of the Inner Circle to shame! Why, if I ever suspected you X-Men had such exotic and satisfying adventures I may have even considered joining your side."

"An evil, twisted witch like you-?"

"Oh, please," Emma said scornfully. "Let's not talk about twisted between us, now. How would your dear professor call all those beings you fucked in each of those little affairs you want so much to forget? Evil? Dangerous? Deadly menaces? Yet how you loved the way they fucked you."

"I never wanted any of that."

"Oh, yes, you were always forced, or coerced. How convenient. You still enjoyed every second of it all. But good girls should not have such hot sex with the bad guys, right?"

"I did not want to."

"Maybe not consciously. You are sincere, strange as that is. You are so proud of your righteousness, you cannot accept what you want, but oh, you do want it."

"I don't!"

"Can you even reach orgasm under other circumstances?"

"I-"

"Can you come if you are not being fucked by an evil, dangerous foe or monster that forces you to take it? Has anyone else ever made you come, really come?"

The White Queen laughed out loud at Storm's sullen silence.

"You're so repressed that you cannot enjoy sex unless you are forced into it. You want to be taken, to be helpless and have no choice but to accept being made to orgasm." She leaned forward, smiling. "That's quite a rape fetish you have, dear."

"I do not-! It cannot-!"

"You're so hard on yourself! It is almost amusing. What is wrong with it, rally? Having a little hard, hot fun with just the wrong person, or, ah, thing? Maybe if you didn't deny that desire you could enjoy sex in other, less dangerous forms. Or maybe all that hard, big, evil cock has already spoiled you permanently?"

"Shut up."

"I couldn't blame you, really. Those were really some great hard, big, evil cocks."

"SHUT UP!"

"If I had the time maybe I could find what trauma led you to see sex as so abominable that you need to get it forced upon you. Childhood abuse? Did your-?"

"WHAT? NEVER!"

"Some traumatic experience with the control of your powers perhaps? Weather can be so volatile, and you are truly so passionate, so volcanic underneath that facade of immaculate transcendence, aren't you?"

"I am NOT-!"

"I've shared your orgasms, dear Ororo. Your libido is more than a match for my own! You can lie to yourself, but not to me." The White Queen moved closer to Ororo. "Perhaps that's why you need to be possessed only by the most dangerous and powerful of your foes, so you can still justify to yourself having relinquished that rigid self-control of yours; so you can really believe that you had no other choice but to accept being forced to enjoy pleasure, the pleasure you want, the pleasure you need."

"That is ridiculous! I'd never-"

"Perhaps that is why you let yourself be captured by someone like me," Emma whispered softly at her ear. "Should I feel flattered?"

Storm stared speechless at her foe. The silence hung between them for one long instant before a loud alarm filled the whole complex.

An armed trooper entered the room hurriedly.

"I said I was not to be disturbed."

The trooper hesitated. "But... The X-men-?"

"Go on."

"The other X-Men are here! They've broken through the second perimeter!"

"Ah, great timing," Emma sighed. Before standing up, she reached out to caress Storm's face in an almost affectionate gesture. "I must now meet your friends, dear. Don't go anywhere."

The White Queen straightened her corset to cover her overflowing breasts, and moved to follow the trooper, but before reaching the door, she turned to add with a lopsided smile: "Perhaps we are all monsters, Ororo."

The X-Man was left alone with her troubled thoughts.

CHAPTER 6: IS COMING, TONIGHT

The stench was everywhere. Logan almost retched, his enhanced sense of smell almost overpowered by the revolting, musky scent filling the ruined hallways, leading downwards. But he could still make out the trail of the girls, faint and delicate in comparison. They had also moved down.

Whatever had entered the mansion, Storm and Kitty had fled from it, and it had followed them.