X-Men: Savage Land Scandal Ch. 03byZev95©
Author's note: Thank you for reading, I've been pleased with the reception I've been getting so far. Just remember, feedback is always appreciated, and the only real way I have of knowing what people are enjoying about the story and would like to see more of. Votes are also lovely, and I hope you enjoy this and many chapters to come.
Karl Lykos lived a solitary life.
He had always been different. For as long as he could remember, he had never known thirst or hunger. All he knew was a kind of emptiness, and the sweet fulfillment that came from draining life-energy.
At first, it had not been so bad. He could buy live bait from any fishing store, and that would sate his appetite. He actually saved money on groceries. Although he knew he was like those people that were always on TV—the superheroes, the supervillains, the mutants—he was able to keep it under control. He didn't want to be special. He didn't want to be anything. He was happy being Karl Lykos.
Then he met Tanya and he had a wife. The beginnings of a family. Only then, when he was at his happiest, did he have the misfortune of meeting a mutant. Of being unable to resist draining that X-gene life-energy, so much greater than even an elephant! And then, what the power had unlocked—the dark side of his mind—the reptilian center—the monster—
He fled, both as Karl Lykos trying to flee from the mutants who were seemingly everywhere, free drugs to a junkie, and as the monster, running from the cops, the Avengers, the Defenders, SHIELD. Until finally, he wound up in the Savage Land. No mutants. Barely any people. Here, he could be Karl Lykos again, surviving on the flora and fauna of this ancient place. It was lonely, it was dangerous—it was home.
And then came the morning of the airship, when he felt a queasily familiar stirring—the pull of mutant power, far in the distance, but still so close he felt like he could reach out and...
Karl jerked out of bed, his flailing body knocking aside the few possessions he had populated his cave home with. It had been so long... and he'd had such power... Karl looked around, trying to center him. He was Karl Lykos, Karl Lykos... and he was living in a hole in the ground, not the house he'd once owned, not even the dorm room he'd shared... a fucking hole! Why did he have to suffer this way, while every other mutant got to frolic around in skintight spandex, playing baseball or hanging around with naked blue women? Why should he live as a hermit to spare them?
Because it was his burden, of course, his alone to bear, everyone else had their own, this was his, they would leave, everyone always left, he just had to wait them out...
No! NO! No more waiting! Don't let them slip away! Don't keep on subsisting on bait worms like a fucking fish! Either put yourself out of your misery or damn well claim your birthright! You're a mutant! This is what you were meant for! Embrace it! Take what's yours!
Karl Lykos found himself pulled to his feet like he was held by invisible rope. The smallest iota of mutant radiation was in the air, and he could already feel the irresistible transformation beginning. He wanted more. So much more. And as he stalked in the direction of that invisible pull, he knew he would get it.
He was Karl Lykos.
But he was also something else.
"No! Nein! Bad dino!" Taking hold of the ankylosaurus's neck, Dr. Elsa rubbed the dinosaur's nose in the mess it had made on the carpet, painstakingly salvaged from the old science lab so she wouldn't have to worry about splinters from the wooden floor. "We do not go number one in the house!"
Shanna had found the ankylosaurus as a pup after it was orphaned by a Rex attack. Although everyone had been enthusiastic about the idea of bringing up a dinosaur pet, Elsa was sure she was the only one who bothered to discipline him. It wasn't much for a renowned scientist, the toast of Project Vengeance, but studying whether a dinosaur had enough brains to be domesticated was better than wallowing in hunting and fighting like the others did. It wasn't even her discipline, though--what she wouldn't give for a few beakers and a proper microscope!
"Are you busy, Mother?" Shanna asked, entering silently as always--this time through a ventilation hole high up to the roof. She crept along the rafters as Elsa shooed Earl Sinclair the ankylosaurus (she would never understand American pop culture references).
"No, Shanna. I am not busy at all."
She probably should've been somewhat perturbed to hear Shanna once again refer to her as Mother, a habit she'd started after reading some books that informed her of the concept of parents. But then, part of her genetic stock was Dr. Elsa's DNA. So Elsa figured it was more or less accurate.
Shanna nodded and leapt down, executing a flawless landing in a crouch that she rose from immediately. If it had happened at any gymnastics competition in the world, Elsa would've applauded. But because it was Shanna, she only offered a tight smile in greeting.
"Mother," Shanna said, her flat voice displaying a touch of nervousness, "do men like it when you touch their phalluses?"
It was good to know, even after so many years learning about this place, that it could still surprise Elsa. But not at the moment. "Muh-muh-manual stimulation of the genitalia is often found pleasant by adult males. Why do you ask?" She surprised herself by how calmly she spoke her question.
"I touched Zar's phallus. After I asked him first. He seemed to enjoy--" Shanna gave Elsa a confidential look, "--reaching ejaculation, but then he excused himself and left. Did I do something wrong?"
"No, Shanna, I'm sure you excelled at it, as per usual." Elsa really wished the child development specialists had showed up.
"But in Doc's magazines, the manual stimulation leads to vaginal or anal intercourse, finishing in oral or mammary stimulation and then ejaculation." Shanna's hands were clasped behind her back like a schoolgirl who'd received poor marks on a test. "Are you sure I did nothing wrong?"
Elsa would've sworn if only she didn't want Shanna to pick up some very poor German. She'd told Doc to keep his magazines well-hidden. "Those magazines are not scientifically accurate!"
"They used poor research?" Shanna asked.
"In the extreme. There is much more to pleasing a male--and being pleased--than just ejaculation on the brüste!"
Shanna took her hands out from behind her back. She held a dinosaur tooth--the flat end indicating a herbivore, Elsa noted--but its size and shape making it extremely suggestive within the context of the conversation.
"Mother, would you show me how to please?" Shanna's smile was just nervous enough to be irresistible. "And be pleased?"
Logan had been through a lot of things that should've killed him over the years. Falls were a big one. No matter how hard he tried to keep his feet on the ground, bad guys always put their offices in towers or skyscrapers or cliffs or fucking Heli-Carriers, and it was always "Hey, Wolvie, you don't need a parachute, do ya?"
Well, he'd fucking well like one, thanks!
As far as bungee-jumping without the cord went, this one wasn't so bad. He didn't land on jagged rocks or lava or anything like that. He went sideways as best he could, trying to glide some so he'd hit at an angle instead of dead-on. Ended up plowing through enough palm trees to garden Sunset Boulevard. Then he pushed up grass, a bunch of it. Finally, he stopped, only some of his skin scraped off, the rest covered in a thick layer of dirt.
"Watch that first step, Piotr," he coughed out, most of the dust he'd kicked up seeming to have ended up in his lungs. "It's a doozy."
Still, just because he looked like the Phantom of the Opera with no damn mask was no reason to lollygag around. He picked himself up, dusted himself off as best he could, and looked around. The Savage Land. Best damn jungle in the world. No bulldozers, no highways, no condos full of homeowners getting upset when they put free food in the raccoons' hunting ground and the damn raccoons went and ate it. Just nature. Red in tooth and claw, just the way he liked it.
And, aw hell, he could say it. "I fucking love dinosaurs," Logan said to himself. Long as he was here, it'd be damn fun getting into a ruckus with a T-rex or a Stegosaurus or whatever this fucked-up place had on tap. In fact, now that his senses were getting acclimated to all the prehistoric spoor, he thought he had a fight in the making on his scope.
Half-mile away, human boy was facing down a pair of big cats that made your average puma look like a funny video on the internet. Logan ran—luckily, his face had broken his fall, so his legs had gotten the best of it. In just a handful of seconds he was there, watching nature's stand-off. Boy was a native; wasn't shitting himself or crying for his mommy, just holding a knife up to put a hurting on 'fore he checked out. Logan could respect that. The hombre wasn't a city boy; maybe he cheated on his taxes, maybe he told his momma she looked fat, but the way Logan saw it, he'd earned getting taken off the menu the moment he pulled the knife instead of running for it.
Good-looking kid too. Nice head of hair, long runner's legs, long runner's arms, face like that goober in the movie with the tiger and the raft who Kitty seemed half in love with. And the girly had good taste in men, 'cept for hanging out with Logan all damn day. Kid that pretty probably had a girl back home. Girl didn't deserve to cry over her cute boyfriend, just cuz he was dumb enough to walk downwind of two starving kitties.
The sabretooths knew it was over; they hadn't noticed Logan yet, so they were just savorin' the boy's fear. Growling at him, sniffing at him, feinting at pouncing. They were trying to break him down, make 'im piss himself so he wouldn't even defend himself, just play dead until they made it permanent. A nice, easy kill out of nice, easy prey. Kid was giving as good as he got, though, snaking his knife out, barking out at the sabretooths like they should be afraid of him, buying himself time.
Logan popped his claws. Snikt. The cats heard it. So did the boy. Both were confused, not afraid.
The Savage Land didn't know what adamantium sounded like. Wolverine figured it was high time everyone learned.
Gleaming teeth gnashed and snapped on soft flesh. Clawed fingers raked over skin to leave scarlet lines. Voices rose in agonized exertion—grunting, groaning, moaning, even laughing. After long minutes of bodies surging against each other, wrestling for supremacy until one was overwhelmed and forced down to the ground, finally came the moment of impalement. Again and again, the loser was penetrated, the hard strikes coming faster and faster until finally they was a spray of fluids, a scream of defeat that trailed down to a whisper of acceptance.
Dr. Elsa lay on her back upon her bedcovers, trying to catch her breath as Shanna knelt over her, not even winded, the dinosaur tooth in her hand wetly dripping.
"That was most informative, Mother. I sense you're tired, though." This was an understatement in the extreme. Elsa had been hunted by dinosaurs almost since the war ended, and she'd never been this winded. "I will continue our research at a later date. For now, I will do independent study. Would now be an appropriate time for a kiss of mutual affection?"
"Yes, mein Tochter... oh yes."
Shanna leaned down and, showing considerably more nervousness than she had in the past hour, placed her lips against Elsa's cheek, held them there, and then withdrew.
"How was that?" she asked softly.
"Most satisfactory, Shanna. As was... everything else."
Shanna beamed as best she could through the poker face she customarily wore, and then moved away, pausing only to retrieve her top and bottom from the floor. She'd heard an explosion in the sky that she would've investigated earlier, but Dr. Elsa's head had been between her legs and it was so... educational.
She took the dinosaur tooth with her.
Long minutes later, Elsa found it in herself to stagger out of her hut. Half her hair was frazzled out of its bun, her thick glasses were askew, and her usually tightly-buttoned clothes now showed enough skin to start a beach party.
Doc, who'd resolved to start going on at least one walk each day, happened to catch her on the way to the bathing pond. One look at her and—well, that had his dirty mags beat all hollow.
"Fraulein? You okay?"
Dr. Elsa looked at him as if she were just noticing the existence of other people on planet Earth for the first time. Slowly, she adjusted her glasses. "I believe my hypothesis regarding Shanna's mating cycle was most correct."
Gently wafting down on its three parachutes, the escape pod landed in a jungle clearing of dirt and palm fronds, the impact only rough enough to jostle the martini Emma was sipping. That was still far too much for her exacting standards. She'd spilled a little on her nude body, and just knew she could expect her skin to be sticky later.
"As if it weren't enough that this pod is as cramped as a refrigerator box, now the shock absorbers submit us to that. Honestly, I should have sprung for the deluxe model. I thought I'd never even use the escape pod, that it was just for peace of mind, but now here we are." When the hatch popped open, a roll of carpet automatically rolled out for Emma's bare feet to walk on. She stepped out into the jungle and stretched. "It just goes to show, never indulge in penny-pinching. Anything worth buying is worth buying expensively."
Tessa followed her out, wondering if she should prepare Emma another martini, then no longer wondering when Emma tossed the martini glass aside. Emma turned back around to Tessa. The spy noted with some ruefulness that Emma's nipples, so hardened by the thought of sparring with Jean, were quite soft despite the many minutes she'd spent with Tessa in her lap.
Emma gestured to her. "Well, strip. No sense being modest now that you've ridden me down from a mile up like a reenactment of Dr. Strangelove."
Tessa could've blushed. She knew Emma had been interrupted before they'd finished their last quickie, but she'd calculated only a forty-two percent chance that Emma would be a big enough slut to insist they continue. "You want me to take my clothes off?"
Emma saw what she was thinking, even with her telepathic powers not really working on Tessa. "Oh, you poor bitch. You really are gagging for it, aren't you?" Walking up to Tessa, she pinched her cheek like a favorite niece. "Later, my darling, I promise you. I know how that quim of yours burns for me, but out here? When some beastly lizard could devour us instead of me devouring you? No, that simply wouldn't do. I merely need your clothes to avoid ruining my skin tone in this abhorrent sun."
"But..." Tessa stammered. She'd only calculated a twelve percent chance that Emma would have any desire to put clothes on. "What will I wear?"
"You have on underwear, don't you?"
Emma grinned widely. "Good girl. Come now, off with them. It isn't anything I haven't seen before... and felt... and licked... and ejaculated upon..."
Tessa unzipped her catsuit before Emma could continue. She was only slightly gratified by how Emma stopped to stare as more and more of her body was revealed. The deepening curve of her cleavage, then the long unbroken stretch of her abdomen, finally the pubic hair that'd been shaved into a triangle—half a diamond. She could've kept going with the zipper; it went all the way around, up her buttocks to the small of her back, so that judicious use of the two sliders could expose any number of things—and had. But she stopped at her perineum and simply stepped out of the catsuit, handing it to Emma with as little rancor as possible.
"Thank you, my sweetest." Emma's smile was subtle but sincere as looked over Tessa's naked body. "Have you lost weight?"
This time Tessa did blush. Flattered.
Emma pushed her feet into the snug rubber that lined the leather suit's inside, careful and dignified. Once finished, she rolled the legs up. The leather creaked as it stretched around her legs, and Emma frowned at the thought that her thighs were bigger than Tessa's. Of course, then she was pulling the leather up against her crotch. Usually, underwear would prevent any embarrassment, but circumstances had dictated that there was nothing to prevent her from feeling the leather... body-warm from Tessa's flesh... cushioning her groin. It felt right as rain.
Next came her arms, worked easily into the tight black leather—not her preferred color, of course, but it was after Labor Day and she might as well indulge that idiotic custom for once. Her hands fit easily into the sleeves and then into the gloves at the end, the fitting pulling the suit tight over her body—and even tighter over her crotch. She had been thinking of letting sex-starved little Tessa wiggle on the hook for a while, just for fun, but now she thought that as soon as she got her alone—well, the catsuit was giving her all kinds of naughty thoughts.
Lastly, she pulled the zipper up. It went ably up her pubis and stomach, but stopped at her breasts. Pulling the zipper up naturally squeezed her breasts in—quite a sight, but they didn't go quite all the way, certainly not enough for the zipper to go up to her neck as intended. Emma cupped her breasts, wiggling them about to try and shimmy them into place, but that just pushed the zipper down further. Emma pulled hard on the zipper, trying to force it over her cleavage, but the thing would sooner bust then obey. Her breasts were simply too large to fit into Tessa's catsuit.
"Of all the problems to have...!" Emma rued, then looked over at Tessa to gauge how she looked, the zipper at her solar plexus with its weight just barely holding the higher two halves of the suit close enough to conceal her breasts. At least, some of them.
Judging by the wide-eyed and somewhat flustered look of schoolgirl lust Tessa was giving her, the effect was perhaps even better than it would be if she'd been able to get the zipper all the way up. The skintight leather hugged her curves even tighter than it had Tessa's, all but her cleavage, which was for the most part gloriously unencumbered. Classy enough for a Savage Land.
Emma stepped into Tessa's black high heels, completing the picture. "Well, this will do for now. Perhaps they'll have something more fitting at our destination."
"We're going somewhere?" Tessa asked.
"Of course, dear. You didn't think I'd fly all this way simply to have Jean Grey all to myself, did you? Not with gas prices being what they are." Emma shook her head, tutting. "No, we're killing two birds with one stone. By the end of our little safari, Ms. Grey will be mine and the Hellfire Club will be more powerful than ever." She held her hand over her forehead, shielding her eyes from the sun. "Ah, I think I see our vacation spot. Come along, Tessa. The sooner we get there, the sooner you can pleasure me."
They set off. In the distance, the building Emma had spotted beckoned, its only motion the moth-eaten Nazi banners fluttering in the breeze.
Piotr was going to be sick.
Currently, he was in a crater in the ground. A few minutes ago, he had been on a ship a mile up in the air. He had taken the quickest way down. Scott had been right—the fall hadn't killed him. He'd felt it, but it hadn't even hurt. No, what got to him was the nausea. Dropping like he was on a roller-coaster stacked atop ten other roller-coasters, tossing and turning in the air, getting buffeted by deltas and air currents... it was a wonder he hadn't vomited.