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  o    Kristen's collection                                         o
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  This is the Super Hero Archive. These stories were sent to me by
  friends. I did not write these stories. 

  Many have no author name attached. If you are the author of the
  enclosed work please let me know and I'll remedy the situation.

  This story, and all the stories in this archive are meant to be
  free. They where sent freely and should remain public domain.


                       ***The Conditioning of Psylocke***
                           By Author Unknown


	The Mandarin had chosen his brethen well.  They had stumbled onto
this assassin only moments before she had chosen to follow through on her
orders.  Never before, however, had he expected to find such resources in
such a trivial manner. 
	His eyes looked over her form, the taught muscles, the smooth
skin, the shimmering hair.  Those eyes, as they glared right back at him,
held a coldness that almost made him shudder.  She had been a long time
consort of the Warlord Nyoirin, but while the Mandarin was present, the
Mandarin was the Overlord.  With a twitch of an eye, he directed his
followers to take her to a chamber. 
	She sat in the middle of the room, crosslegged, the robe she was
given draped about her, but split in the front, holding her secrets in
shadow.  Her wrists faced up, her head tilted down, and her thoughts
echoed through the ancient halls.  The mirrors along the upper edge of the
room reflected only more darkness, and her confusion was masked by a
butterfly. 
	Her brow covered with sweat, she opened her eyes, her thoughts
searching for strength.  Uncrossing her legs, she folded them under her. 
Bowing to a nonexistent shrine, she swiftly jumped to catch her feet under
her, and stood to full height, the robe beginning to reveal her splendor. 
Rollling her shoulders, and pushing them back, she shed the robe, and let
the torchlight lick at her form.  Beating back the chaos in her mind, she
did what she always did to escape her fears, she practiced. 
	Twisting on the balls of her feet, she backstepped into a
somersault, rolled out of it, and jumped into a flying side kick. 
Landing, she swept an invisible opponent's feet, delivered a large
roundhouse, and "finished" him with three punches appropriating for
blocks.  Backpeddling, she found herself "faced" by two opponents, moved
between them, and synchronized a set of kicks and punches between the two,
with speed that registered an impression on the faces behind the mirrors. 
	Settling back into the precise center of the room, she wiped a
bead of sweat from under her breast, and licked her finger.  For the first
time, she grinned. 
	He watched her perform a deadly dance, and those around him
empathized with his attraction.  Generally, his withdrawn preference for
geisha would normally satisfy his needs, but the more he watched his
captive, the more he became captivated with her.  "Go!" he ordered the
ninjas along the mirror.  They filed out of the room.  Their footsteps
went unheard as they climbed a staircase. 
	To their mark, their silence betrayed them.  As they landed on
three points, they surrounded her.  When all seven of them finished
dropping from the unseen ceiling, they each brandished a weapon or two,
except for one.  He held his hands forward in claws, mimicking a tiger in
style. 
	She rose from her lotus position, her robe several feet away
outside of the circle.  Standing tall, she approached the unarmed one,
walking with no regard to the others.  Reaching into the guard stance, she
lifted the mask partially to reveal the snarl.  Lacking no grace, she
moved her lips over that snarl while her hands worked at his waist.  Her
fingers as deft as her body, she accomodated his pants around his
erection. 
	His claws fell to more intensive than destructive actions.  His
fingers grazed over her face, and continued down her body, caressing her
shoulders first, then moving under her breasts, immediately testing their
firmness.  Before he could explore further, she had already impaled
herself on him, without any of his assistance. 
	Immediately, the clatter of metal on stone erupted as the ninjas
dropped their respective weaponry.  Their hands sought out to touch what
they had not suspected they could.  One other was so bold as to adjust his
garments to introduce his own member to the situation. 
	Seeing her legs wrapped around his brethen's, the smooth skin
being caressed by the hands of more, he asserted his authority as the
second of the leader.  Moving behind her, his hands traced the crack of
her buttocks, and pressed his flesh between hers.  Her head turned to see
him, and her eyes pulled him closer.  Thrusting her hips back, she
affected the impalement, and loosed her legs.  Her arms stretched out, as
well as her legs, as she placed her full weight onto their conjunctions. 
	Hands moved to support her, as well as fondle her, but the two who
had her felt as though they were one with her.  Any pleasure to be had
seemed to be given to them.  They felt their own bodies penetrated while
they were the ones penetrating.  Unable to hold back anything, they
groaned a final syllable, only to finally disipate into smoke. 
	She landed on the floor, catching herself from bruises.  The rest
of the group ignored this and one immediately moved behind her and spread
her thighs apart.  Bearing no ceremony, he encunted her on as she fell to
fours.  Looking back, she said nothing, but pounded back at him.  Tossing
her head to shift her hair, she encountered a member inches from her nose. 
Glancing up to the unseen face for acknoledgement, she touched her tongue
to the tip of it.  Accepting the notion, she accepted its length smoothly
into her mouth and partially down her throat. 
	The last three waited away from her, removing the bands of fabric
>from their bodies.  As she bounced in the odd rhythm between her two
captors, they surrounded her.  Sensing every last pleasure in the tryst,
they watched as the primal groan marked the dissolution of the two
"captors".  The smoke still clung to her form, which showed no stress. 
	She waited on four as one entered her anus, pushing aside the last
wisps of his comrade.  His hands reached forward and clutched her breasts. 
In this pose, he lifted her onto him, and fell with his back to the floor. 
Another then moved between her spread legs and entered her frontwise.  As
a moan escaped her, it was stifled by the last, driving himself between
her lips. 
	Any motion she made stimulated her, and every one in her.  This
she recieved, and rebroadcast to them.  As they felt the wave wash over
them, they redoubled any effort for an exponential effect.  Feeling every
last bit of their passions, she began to take it all and not leak it for a
few minutes.  Their motions hastened in hopes to heighten the sensation,
but it was always take away.  In a final surge, she screamed as well as
she could, and shuddered in an intensity that sent her reeling into
unconsciousness, as her final stock of stolen orgasm washed over her
assailants, sending them into smoke. 
	The fragrance overwhelmed her peace, as she jerked her head up,
instinctively batting aside the smelling salts.  Before her stood a tall,
finely dressed oriental with a perfectly trimmed beard and sunken eyes. 
She met those contemplating eyes unflinchingly. 
	She opened the conversation, "You were there."  Her voice echoed
in the cavern with which she was all to familiar. 
	He lips remained still. 
	In her head, a voice boomed with a deepness that defied her
indifference.  ~Not like that,~ it said. 
	"Wha-?" she began, only to have the voice return. 
	~A thought is a river, while a voice is a waterfall.  The water can
get from one level to another without the waterfall.~
	Understanding, she responded, ~Like this?~
	~Precisely.~
	~Who are you?~
	~You will refer to me as the Mandarin, always in the third person.~
	~Why would I do that?~ she questioned him. 
	~You are mine, mind, body, and whatever else lies under that skin.~
	~And if I choose otherwise?~
	~You won't choose otherwise.~ He held up a hand.  On each manicured
finger rested a ring, each with a different stone.  ~I can have you choose
to do anything I want.~
	She felt her pulse rise, and however much she despised him, she
was unable to stop herself from kneeling before him and bowing her head at
his feet, her breasts crushed against her knees.  With clenched teeth, she
remained on her knees, but stood to his waist.  Her arms, defying her
thoughts, moved to his suit pants, first unbuckling the belt, then undoing
the button, and dropping the zipper.  Reaching under the lapels of his
shirt, she withdrew his rampant member. 
	~Go on,~ he directed. 
	~You fucking bastard.  Just because you can control my body doesn't
mean you own me.~ She continued projecting her thoughts as her lips
wrapped around him.  ~Even as you control my actions, my thoughts will
always be my own.~
	~Ah, the cry of self-proclaimed righteousness.~
	~The body is a temple.  Upon desecration, the temple may no longer
be holy, but that doesn't mean the spirits inside aren't.~
	~To be sucked by such a metaphorical slut.  A pleasure not to be
wasted by mental bondage.~ Withdrawing himself from her lips, he withdrew
roughly from her mind as well, leaving her with a headache. 
	~If you don't keep me under your control, I'll kill you the first
chance I get.~
	~Why not now?  I swear on the honor of my family, I won't use my
mind control ring.~
	Leering up at him, she launched herself with catlike speed at him. 
He dove to his right, his member, glistening with her saliva, still hard
as the stone they walked on.  Turning the rings covering his fingers to
aim the stones inwards, he fell to the tiger stance demonstrated before. 
She closed the distance, and faced him.  Sending a direct punch at his
face, she measured his blocks.  Blocking her punch, he measured her speed. 
Countering with a footsweep, she jumped over it sending a foot to the back
of his thigh, launching herself away while landing the hit.  Feeling the
bruise, he hardened his style a bit more, and learned from his mistake. 
	Approaching her, he kept his hands in an open stance, inviting her
attack.  Waiting for his retaliation, she kept a low stance, her feet wide
for stability, her fists clenched.  They could each hear the other's heart
beating, as well as each breath taken.  The conflict had maintained his
arousal, and had heightened hers.  Due to her stance, her shaved lips were
parted wide, and a drop fell from one.  As it landed on the floor, a
single heartbeat changed ever so slightly, but he understood the timing
better than anyone in the world.  Stepping in, he sent an open left hand
to her face.  Drawing the crosswise block, his right grasped her left
wrist as it contacted.  Flipping over her, wrist still in hand, he avoided
her kick, and proceeded to hold her helpless. 
	His member pressing between her buttocks, he controlled every
muscle in his body, and penetrated her anus, receiving a large shudder
from her.  Still holding her close, he ground into her.  Her control began
to wane at the sudden rush of sensation.  His arms let her go, and gripped
her by the waist.  Reeling, she began to fall to the floor, but her hands
caught her, for naught, being that he anchored her sufficiently. 
	Even as her hatred for him flowed, their connection seemed so
primal that denying it only strengthened it.  His skill as a fighter was
matched by his skill as a lover.  His mood matched hers at the time,
blazened and energetic.  Every stroke he made into her was fluid enough to
make her anticipate the next.  Tears welled in her eyes as she passed from
orgasm to orgasm.  Screaming by voice and mind, she send the waves of the
pleasures back into the Mandarin. 
	Unprepared for the projection, he ended on a final long stoke into
her, sending his seed deep into her bowels.  Completely drained, he
collapsed onto her, remaining inside her.  No geisha had ever done that to
him before. 
	"Betsy, why didn't you tell anyone else about this?" 
	"I don't know, professor.  You see, right after I came out of the
Seige Perilous, I didn't know what was happening.  Everything I was before
was but an appendage to my current state.  I felt more than whole. 
Actually, overflowing." 
	"Well, I don't think the other X-Men need to know about this.  As
long as the team operates without problems, and in particular, you can
operate without any problems, then the matter can be dealt with at our
lesuire." 
	"Thank you for listening, professor.  I'm going to take a walk
around the mansion, try to unwind.  Good night, professor." 
	"Good night, Betsy."  His stern demeanor held some comfort for
dealing with the personal natures of each of his students.  Everyone knew
he cared, and everyone cared for him, but every night, his dreams carried
him off into the universe, in search of his only love. 
	Cyclops rubbed his eyes under his glasses.  He seemed to be doing
that a lot, as of late.  The book Jean gave him had its merits, but his
attention span seemed to shorten whenever he thought about the work he had
to do.  So many unmonitored mutant groups out there, and he was awake at
two in the morning letting his eyes pass over words to which he paid no
heed. 
	Getting out of bed, he was careful not to disturb Jean.  Padding
over to the bathroom, he removed his ruby quartz glasses and splashed his
face with some lukewarm water.  Replacing his glasses, he slowly opened
his eyes, and returned to bed.  Exchanging his glasses for the eye covers
Forge made, he slipped under the covers.  Slipping his legs around one of
Jean's, he moved close to her face.  Blowing her a kiss across the inches
between them, he rested. 
	"What was that supposed to be?" she whispered. 
	"I didn't want to wake you," he whispered back. 
	"A little late for that.  What were you up so late for?" 
	"Just reading, and thinking?" a moment later, he almost regretted
telling her. 
	"Thinking about what?" 
	Hesitation.  "I was thinking about you."  ~Don't get too corny, or
she'll catch on.~ "How peaceful you looked, asleep." 
	"You're getting all sentimental on me, Scott."  She looked at him. 
"I like that." 
	He moved closer and kissed her.  "I love you, Jean."  ~Be careful
here, Scott.  Know when to talk, and when to fuck.~ His hand crept between
them, and cupped a breast through her neglige.  Pulling her into a longer
kiss with his other hand, he felt a momentary tension in her, but it faded
quickly.  Pulling her closer with his legs, he also rubbing his knee
between her thighs. 
	She immediately pressed her lips closer to him, and opened them to
receive his tongue, intertwining it with her own.  Telekinetically, she
raised her neglige to give him better access.  Her red hair matched
perfectly, as he well knew.  Finishing with her own clothing, she took
care of his, pushing his thin pajama shorts to his feet. 
	He slid the covers down and rolled over on top of her.  Sliding
himself between her spread legs, he wasted no time in entering her.  Her
wetness was nothing spectacular, but present enough to stop any
discomfort.  With long, slow strokes, he drove himself into her.  Her eyes
were closed, concentrating on him within her.  He stretched his neck, and
while turning it, he caught a glimpse of a figure in the doorway. 
	The door slightly ajar, he tried to focus in the pale moonlight on
who it could be.  Before he could finish focusing, he heard something that
wasn't quite there.  ~Quiet, Scott.  She might decide to scan you mind or
look my way.~ It was then his vision cleared to perceive Psylocke.  She
leaned halfway through the opening, her back on the trim around the door. 
He could see a hand under the scanty top she wore as her outfit.  Her
other hand he could see worked under the high hipped bottom she wore.  No
light came from the hallway, but he seemed to be quite aware of her every
movement. 
	Mechanically, he worked at Jean, his eyes directed to Psylocke,
her face a mask of pleasure.  ~Rough job, there, boy.  You guys must
really be in love, because your so careful not to hurt each other.  I'm
impressed.~ Even in telepathy, the sour note of sarcasm could be tasted. 
	At that, Scott recalled every last time he made love to Jean, and
Madelyne Prior, her clone.  They most variety they got was choosing
between the missionary position or an inversion thereof.  ~Good history,
Scott.  I'll leave you two alone.  I think I need a walk by the river.~
Scott balked at the underlying invitation.  Returning to Jean, he closed
his eyes and kissed her neck.  He imagined the breasts at his fingertips
to be another's.  He renewed his energy with this image, and with a long
final stroke, spurt into her, whoever she was. 
	"Scott, God, you're great."  She wrapped her arms around him, but
his mind was elsewhere. 
	"Great.  Now you got me full of energy.  I can't sleep now.  Maybe
I'll go for a walk or a Danger Room session."  He moved to get up. 
	"Wait, I'll go with you."  She stirred in the bed. 
	"No.  I think one of us should be wide awake tomorrow." 
	"If you think so.  I love you." 
	"Yeah, I love you, too, Jean."  He bent down to kiss her.  Holding
her there for a few seconds, he bent up, grabbed his outfit and walked to
the bathroom.  Rinsing off in the shower, he suited up, and left the room,
closing the door he knew was closed before. 
	Under the waxing gibbous moon, along the edge of the river just
outside the main grounds of the mansion, Psylocke sat with crossed legs,
wrists facing up resting on her knees.  Her purple skin tight outfit she
wore with the team lay on the ground seven feet away.  The air was
comfortable for the hour, but dew still settled on the grass.  The east
sky remained as dark as the rest of the sky.  From the direction of the
mansion, she could count the number of leaves he brushed against as
Cyclops approached. 
	"Betsy?  You out here?" 
	"Of course, Scott." 
	As his eyes found her, he was tempted to turn away.  "Don't you
think you should have something on?" 
	"Of course, Scott," she repeated.  She stood and approached him. 
Before he could react, she grabbed him by the shoulders, and dragged him
down to the ground, her back settling into the wet grass.  "But it's so
much nicer to have someONE on." 
	Pulling his face down to hers, she met his hesitant lips and
sought out his tongue.  Removing a hand from the back of his head, she
reached down to his belt.  Undoing Forge's uncanny technology, the belt
came off in pieces, or modules as he so fondly called them.  After that,
it was elementary to free the bulge forming in his trousers. 
	Scott was slow to break the kiss.  "Betsy, I don't think we should
really do this." 
	"There is a barrier between the body and the words.  And its name
is Jean.  The woman you've loved for all of you life as and X-man is all
you've known.  Your empty horizons on the emotional front have closed your
eyes to what is just beyond." 
	"Betsy... Please...."  Now she had his member in her hand, softly
kneeding it to solidity. 
	"Scott.  You're shaking.  Come now, relax.  I want to do this for
you." 
	"Oh, God, Betsy.  I haven't been able to stop thinking about you
since you left to visit your brother in England."  Now she was slowly
stroking him, even though he was resting on top of her. 
	"Then continue to think about me."  She positioned herself under
him and guided the tip of his member to her flushed lips.  They parted as
she spread her legs wider, and she gently pulled him down, sinking him
slowly into her.  She moaned aloud, to match his.  "Come on, Scott.  Fuck
me, do me harder.  I'm not Jean." 
	"No, you definitely aren't.  Oh, my God Betsy!"  His exclamation
coming from her ability to control every last bit of her musculature. 
Exhausting, but unspent, she raised up her legs, pulling them up to her
shoulders.  Scott stopped for a moment, to finish the positioning, and
replaced his hands on either side of her.  She then draped her legs over
his shoulders, affecting a deeper penetration. 
	"Okay.  Fuck me as hard as you can, Scott.  You can do it."  You
can do it, oh fearless leader, she thought. 
	He obliged, driving himself into her, pushing her in the grass. 
Her hands gripped his shoulders as her back arched with every thrust,
trying to meet him every time.  While his mind was fully spent on his own
carnal gratification, she was able to slip in past his mental defences,
the ones he originally had for Jean.  Once inside, she was able to find
the right switches to make to take him completely.  Leaving a few
impressions, she cleared a path for later suggestion. 
	As her groans gave way to voiceless breath, she brought each of
them to a simultaneous orgasm.  His first spurts firing deep into her, she
pulled him out to have his seed spill onto her belly and breasts.  Her
hands went to rub it over her skin.  He pulled her legs off of his
shoulders, and set his hands to help her rub his liquid over her sleek
flesh.  Triggering one of her controls on him, she induced a production of
endorphins along with new surge of testosterone.  With the next trigger,
she urged his adrenals to produce some fresh adrenaline.  This resulted in
a burst of energy, and irrationality. 
	Knowing this, she removed the petty block his morals put up
against his responses.  To initiate the activity, she pushed him away. 
"Get away >from me, you lousy, cheating scum."  Hanging around Jubilee did
have its effects. 
	"Oh, is this how it is.  You tease for months on end, but when it
comes time to deliver, you're nothing but a two bit whore.  One that needs
some appropriate punishment."  At this, he slapped her face.  His mouth
snarling in rage, he slapped her again.  She rolled with these, and
covered her nipples with her hands.  In a fit of anger, he ripped her
hands from her breasts.  "Don't you dare cover yourself."  He seemed to
forget about her ninja skills, and did not seem to wonder why they failed
to manifest themselves.  His hand slapped at her breasts from the side. 
	Struggling weakly, and falsely, she was turned over, her hips
pulled back to meet his rampant tool.  Holding her by the thighs, he drove
himself into her waiting vagina.  Slapping at her buttocks frequently, he
ignored her powerful orgasm, except for the fact it layered his member
with fluid.  Pulling out of her, he placed himself at her anus.  With no
mercy, he forced himself to the hilt in a single push.  At this, her body
went limp.  She screamed, knowing that the area was acoustically ideal for
her seduction.  He pounded into her rear, feeling assured he was punishing
her.  Ideas coming >from "nowhere", he decided on how to finish it off. 
	Standing up, and pulling her to her knees, he presented himself to
her lips.  As she opened her eyes, she saw, and already knew what to do. 
	"Clean me up, you worthless slut." 
	"Please, no..." she pleaded, continuing the scenario. 
	"Just for that, as soon as you're done, we're going to start all
over again."  She took him in hand first, placed her tongue on the tip,
and slowly took him deeper.  In mock (but true) acceptance, she worked him
deeper into her mouth, as his head lolled back.  His hands grabbed her
hair and pushed the rest of his length into her mouth and throat. 
Ignoring her sense of taste, she sucked on him at length.  Almost removing
himself from her, he drove back in to be sucked for a while.  After
several slow strokes, he started thrusting into her in a quickening
rhythm.  At the height of it, he withdrew entirely, pulling her hair back,
tilting her face, he sent his load over her face, his first spurts landing
on her cheeks, his later ones welling by her eyes and running into her
hair. 
	"Okay, now we're going to start over."  Still completely rampant,
he let go of her hair, threw her to the ground, stomach down, and placed
his tip at her puckered rear entrance.  With little ceremony, he plunged
himself back into her.  "Maybe this will stop your teasing, you little
slut.  Maybe you'll finally understand what makes a team leader."  His
hands slapped at her rear as he thrust mercilessly.  "I think I know what
you need."  He grinned fiercely, and put his glasses on his forhead,
revealing his closed eyes.  Then, squinting, he let out tiny bursts of
energy at her back. 
	She gasped as the concussion of the small blast knocked the wind
out of her.  Struggling to get a full breath as he razed her back, she
felt her body wracked with orgasms unending.  Making sure all of this was
being lodged into his conscious memory, she send a burst of her orgasmic
emotion into him, just as she passed out, losing her control over him. 
	Releasing a full blast into her by his mutant ability, he also
spilled himself fully into her.  Collapsing on top of her, he began to
shrink, and regret.  As he came back to his senses, he paid attention to
the flesh beneath his.  He realized who he was with, and what he had done. 
"Oh, God.  What have I done?" his cliche echoed in his mind.  Images of
what had just happened rushed back to him.  Fixing his clothing, he began
to weigh his options.  Turning her over, he tried not to marvel over her
body, and checked her breating and pulse.  Finding it all in order, he
decided it would be safe to leave. 
	He appreciated the fact that his power did little to human flesh. 
It seemed to be something about the resonances in the carbon atoms that
consist the body that change his blasts to something more than concussive
force and nerve overloading.  Metal, however, seemed to be rended quite
easily, or bashed, depending on the frequency set. 
	Finding his way back to the mansion, he jumped into the shower,
rinsed off, and slipped in next to Jean, beating the sun by a couple
hours. 
	"Tell, me chere.  As afraid of me as you may seem to be, I'm always
ahead of the sitaution."  He held up a foil packet in his classic two
finger pose. 
	"Ah think, Remy, that a li'l ol' rubber ain't gonna keep our skins
>from touchin'." 
	"But, then, chere, that's what this is for," he retorted as he
pulled out a sheer green body suit, full length.  "Try it on, for me,
hmm?" 
	"Ah'd really like to know what ya' have in mind, cajun."  She
walked by him, and pulled the item from his fingers.  "Ah tell ya' what. 
Ah'll show you mine if you show me yours." 
	"Of course."  He draped his overcoat over the chair by the door. 
First, unbuttoning his tailored shirt, he watched as she undid her
buttons.  Simultaneously, they slipped them over their shoulders and let
them fall to the ground.  Since she first absorbed her powers from Ms.
Marvel, she found that a bra was no longer needed.  Obscure superpowers
indeed.  Next he doffed his tight pants, his shoes gone since his jacket. 
She slowly, teasingly, lowered her skirt, leaving her in high hipped
panties.  His bulge lurched, as it lurked behind his bikini briefs. 
	Making the first final move, he slid his briefs down as she
dropped her panties, blushing.  "Now, there, chere.  Nothing to worry
about.  Just slip on my little gift there, and soon you can slip on my big
gift here." 
	"Oh, shush.  Some uh us uh tryin' to be modest."  She stretched the
fabric at the neck.  Careful not to stretch too far, she slipped in.  At
first having a hard time with it, she found that it stretch far more than
she thought.  Catching some gloves he tossed to her, she slipped those on
as well, finding they matched her outfit. 
	"Don't you look absolutely delicious in that.  Let me taste you." 
	"Watch it, Gambit.  Even just --" 
	"--the slightest touch would have your head full o' me.  I know. 
Watch this."  His hand cupped her breast, its nipple coming to attention
immediately.  "Don't ya' see, I ain't touchin' ya', but you're still
feelin' me." 
	"Oh, Remy.  Do some more." 
	"I intend to."  He placed his lips around the other nipple, wetting
the suit to full transparency.  His hands first kneeded at her breasts,
then moved to her rear.  She moaned under his expert caresses, and gave in
to his every touch.  Stepping back, he pulled a knife from his nearby
shirt cuff (the place most theives carry them).  At her groin, he made a
small incision in the thin material.  She watched him, wary of his every
movement.  Finding the condom, she opened the package, and sat up to roll
it onto him. 
	Carefully, they moved to the bed, trying to keep in contact, and
she lay down.  Spreading her legs for him, he knelt between them.  "Oh,
chere, what I wouldn't give to have a condom for my tongue."  She blushed,
but said nothing. 
	Guiding him in, he seemed quite adept at holding the fabric apart
as he wedged his way into her. 
	"Tell me, chere.  What nasties did those boys do to you back on
Genosha, back when you and Wolvie were stuck there?" 
	"If you're wonderin' if ah'm a virgin, ah'm not."  She grinned
weakly at him. 
	Knowing not to ask any more questions, he slowly moved himself
into her.  Watching her face, holding her eyes with his, he lodged himself
deeply within her.  "Oh, Remy.  All ah want ya' to do is be careful." 
	"I intend to."  He slowly stroked in and out.  Her arms wrapped
around him as he quickened his pace.  Pulling him as deep as he could go,
she pushed him away as she found her very first orgasm outside of her own
fingers. 
	"Here, Remy.  Try this, instead.  Ah've always wanted to have it
like this."  She got onto her knees, and looked back at him. 
	Caught a bit off guard, he took his place behind her and
repositioned the slit to accomodate hers.  Acquiring the angle, he entered
her again.  She moaned more, and reached back to stroke herself.  His
hands found her breasts again, and worked her flesh most enticingly. 
Holding back on his orgasm, he waited for hers.  As she shuddered and
collapsed onto the bed, he sent his load into the barrier that kept them a
millimeter apart. 
	"Oh, chere.  I'd give up every other memory, if I could only
remember this."  Laying down next to her, he held in the nested spoons
position.  "As long as I lost my memories that way." 
	"For all ah want to, Remy, ah don't think ya' we should sleep so
close.  Even the most casual contact would mean me stealin' your powers
and mem'ries.  For now, we can do that as much as we like, which ah do
like.  But let's sleep in our own beds, 'kay?" 
	"Fine, chere.  Let's get together real soon."  Dropping the condom,
he got up, donned his overcoat, left his clothes, and left the room. 
	Rogue sat in bed, tears welling in her eyes as she tried to
explain to herself why she kept him so far away. 
	Gambit fumed as he walked down the hall.  For all they wanted each
other, they weren't allowed to be themselves.  As he stepped into his own
room, he dropped his overcoat on the floor, and went to the shower. 
Rinsing off, he stretched in the middle of the room before he noticed the
perfectly silent and prone figure in the darkest shadow of the room. 
"Jeez, chere.  You tryin' to scare Gambit's ghost before I even die?" 
	"No.  You just looked so raw.  I didn't want to disturb you." 
	"Burnt is more like it."  Hunting for a conclusion, "Were you
spyin' on Rogue and me?" 
	"Not necessarily spying, but paying attention to your thoughts,
yeah." 
	"Then you can hear whay I'm thinkin' now."  ~Get out.~
	"I was just thinking of finishing your evening for you.  You can
touch me, Gambit.  You don't need to worry about touching me, Gambit,
ever."  Projecting as strongly as she could, ~You don't need any condoms
either, for cock or tongue.  I'll show you mine if you show me yours.~
	"Problem bein', I'm already showin' you mine." 
	Psylocke stood to full height, and stepped from the shadows,
showing her own lack of clothing.  "I was ready before you came into the
room."  She toyed with his perceptions, and morals.  Placing random
beacons, she mapped out his mind and found the nerve centers she required. 
	"Then the evening may turn out after all." 
	"I should certainly hope so, Gambit." 
	"Call me Remy, in times like this." 
	"Call me Betsy." 
	"Then, Betsy, I'll suck yours if you suck mine." 
	"I'd love to, Remy."  They fell to the floor.  She laid him on the
floor and placed her knees around he ears.  In unison, their hands sought
what was right in front of their faces, and brought their mouthes to each
other.  His fingers parted her clean shaven lips and his tongue found its
way to her core.  Her tongue stroked along his length and then she fully
engulfed him.  Bucking her hips onto his face, she moved up and down his
length, sucked as hard as she could, and then repeated herself.  His
tongue traced the alphabet in her, and spelled out "clit" just before he
tongued that as well.  At that moment, they each sent their fluids to the
other. 
	She turned to face him, and impaled herself on him before he could
utter a work.  Rising and sinking on him, she just watched his
expressionlessness as she worked into his mind for his true feelings. 
Upon finding nothing, she implanted several of the same tendencies in him
as she did Scott.  Awakening the lust inside him, she switched him to a
subservient mode and got onto his bed.  Spreading her legs wide, she had
him stand between her legs and slide into her.  Having him lean forward on
her breasts, she had him perform on her for a good hour, before letting
him feel any of the pleasure. 
	After that position, she turned over, as though tanning, and had
him enter her from that angle.  Enjoying several orgasms, she tailored his
memories to fade the fringes of these images to leave the memories as
dreams.  As he pounded into her, she finally directed him to her anus. 
Sending a small orgasm through his body, she had him eject a portion of
his seed for lubrication.  Sending him in, she recalled her time with
Cyclops and planned for the upcoming days and nights.  Driving himself
into her, his dreamlike stamina had been incredible.  Reaching the teens
in the number of orgasms she found from his indominatable manhood at her
back door, she allowed him to spew his seed deep into her.  Sated, she
sent him to bed, to sleep, to wake with only a slight recollection of the
night as a dream. 
	The sun found the bell tower of the mansion, but the trees kept it
away from the bedroom windows for another hour.  The halls were virtually
empty.  The pattering of falling water seemed to be the loudest sound this
morning.  In the kitchen a short, burly man scrambled some eggs.  Off to
the side sat various meats and vegetables.  A young oriental girl in blue
striped pajamas and a serious pout loomed over the refrigerator, deciding
on a breakfast. 
	"You're not having cereal again this morning.  I'm making the team
an omelet.  We're going to need a good meal before our weekly Danger Room
session, or at least the rest of you will." 
	"Back off, Wolvie.  I just want some OJ, okay?"  She really did
want cereal, but decided to put up with him now, and save her arguements
for another time. 
	"Then pour some for the rest of the team.  I want to be training by
ten this morning." 
	"Which team?  The blue team, or all of the X-men in the mansion?" 
	"We only have enough eggs for the blue team.  The rest can fend for
themselves." 
	"What about Jean?" Jubilee knew nothing of Wolverine's view of
Jean. 
	"What about her?  If she shows up, fine.  If not, then so what?" 
	Taken slightly aback, "It's just that she and Cyclops usually eat
breakfast together." 
	"Like I said, if she eats with us, fine by me."  Jubilee just sat
and stared at him.  Wolverine finished making the omelets, making two
different kinds, for those who felt vegetarian today. 
	"Here, Jubes.  You can make the hash browns while I go get everyone
up." 
	"Why do I have to?" 
	"Do you want to see Beast without his hair combed?" he gave her a
wary glance. 
	"I'll make the hash browns, fine."  She cringed at some images of
an even more unkempt blue haired mutant.  She scolded herself for not
coming up her verbal riposte, "Would that be worse than you right now?"
before he left the room. 
	Wolverine wore his yellow pants and stylized boots but no shirt. 
His dark hair seemed overgrown over his chest, but his dark eyes and
ageless look seemed to hold everyone right where he wanted them. 
	Knocking on Rogue's door, he opened it slightly, poking in his
head.  "Rogue, come on, Belle.  I've got break--" he was caught off guard
when he saw her. 
	Rogue lay on her bed, still in the body suit Gambit gave her, the
covers kicked down.  She lay in a runner's stride facing him.  Her eyes
remained closed for a few seconds until she realized what had cut
Wolverine off.  Her nipples were erect and dried wet patches had set in
over them.  At her groin the rip had spread to open her entire mound to
the air.  Her lower lips were flushed and swollen and her eyes seemed
glazed over when they did open.  When a tear fell from each, she blinked,
and her vanity took over. 
	Wolverine could smell the activities of the previous night, but
was prudent enough not to say anything.  "I made some breakfast.  Come
on."  He closed the door softly behind him. 
	Next he went further down the hall to Gambit's room.  Throwing the
door open, he yelled, "Rise and shine, Cajun."  The scent that overwhelmed
him was partially similar to that of Rogue's room, but it held flavors
greater, sweeter.  "I'm calling the team together for a decent breakfast." 
	Shaking his head, Gambit answered back, "Yeah, yeah.  Get me on
the way back, gramps." 
	Continuing his quest for the team, he walked further down the hall
to Beast's quarters.  Ready to yell, he found the blue furred member of
the team reading on a couch.  "Greetings, second-furriest.  From all of
your ranting this fine morning, I expect you have something planned.  Give
me another couple minutes for me to finish these couple hundred pages." 
	"Sure.  Back at the kitchen."  The Beast had already gone back to
flipping pages. 
	Approaching the door to the corner room of Scott Summers and Jean
Grey, Logan passed a hand through his hair, and knocked politely.  The
door was ajar, and he stepped in.  Looking around, he saw Cyclops asleep,
alone in bed.  From around the corner walked Jean, completely naked.  For
all his years, he was still taken aback by her beauty, and was still
affected by it.  She held his gaze for a few seconds, unmoving.  Water
dripped down her smooth skin, and her hair clung to her face and neck. 
The hair above perfectly matched that below, and he took in her looks
every second he had.  Her scent enraptured him, drawing him closer. 
	"Please, Jean, don't do this to me."  He was at her mercy. 
	Saying nothing, she turned on her heels, giving him a good view of
her rear, and stepped back into the bathroom.  From there she yelled,
"Scott, wake up.  Duty calls."  Scott stirred a little bit, but Logan just
left the room in a cold sweat. 
	Going down this final hall, he knocked on Psylocke's door. 
Opening it, thinking nothing could be worse, he found her nude, lifting
weights, while hanging from the ceiling by gravity boots.  "Betsy, I have
some breakfast ready."  Her body was covered with sweat, and it was clear
that she hadn't slept all night.  But the scent that prevailed over the
room was not that of hard work, but that of an extreme sexual nature. 
Doing a few more pumps, she dropped the weights and began to wipe the
sweat from her body.  Hanging there, running her hands over her skin, she
just stared at him. 
	After he blinked a few times, she did a sit up, and grabbed onto
the bar from which she hung.  Looking a lot like a bat with the best
looking heart shaped rear, she unhooked herself and dropped down from the
ceiling, landing on three points, her legs spread wide behind her. 
Bending down to unbuckle her boots, she held his gaze.  Pulling a robe off
of a hook on the wall, she pulled it on.  Walking to Wolverine, standing
in front of him, she knelt in front of him, pulled his tights down over
his bulging member, and engulfed it fully.  Time seemed to stand still,
and he worried about everyone waiting for him.  His hands went to pull her
head away, but stayed at the sides of her head as she worked at him. 
	Her fingers massaged his engorged sac as her lips reached his
base.  Feeling him tense, his fabled stamina depleated to those lovely
lips, she withdrew from him and stroked him, directing him down at her
open robe.  Just then, his seed spewed over her breasts.  Load upon thick
load fell upon her chest.  As Wolverine's shudders died down, she closed
her robe and tied the belt. 
	Pulling his pants back up, he led her out of the room. 
	"Hey, Wolvie.  What took so long?  I mean, if Gambit beat you back
here, your age must be getting to you."  She didn't dare assume anything
when it came to his hidden agendas.  Sitting at a small nearby table,
Gambit, already in his outfit, ate the breakfast prepared earlier.  Rogue
sat partially on a countertop eating her share.  Beast hung from a
conveniently placed bar in the corner of the extended kitchen.  Just down
the hall came the leader of the team, struggling with each step, still
quite dazed, Jean helping him along. 
	Gambit looked at Psylocke every few moments, turning his attention
back down to his food, his eyes never meeting Rogue's all through
breakfast.  Scott's head always kept Betsy in view, even though Jean stood
right next to him.  Jubilee stepped next to Logan, and Betsy went to get
her share.  Wolverine glanced around nervously, wondering why no one else
could smell what had just happened.  Jean held his gaze, but his fear of
discovery was more disconcerting than her look. 
	Gambit was the next to address Logan, "So, you got sum'tin'
planned fo' us today, Wolverine?" 
	Hesitating a moment, he responed, "I spent all night working on a
Danger Room sequence that should prepare us for our next mission.  Charlie
told me yesterday about what we have to do.  It's supposed to be simple,
but we have to be ready for anything.  Of course, the Danger Room is only
for the fighting aspects of the mission, but the opponents we might be
facing would be rather unique, even for us.  I'll explain it in the
briefing room.  Scotty, make sure you bring the mission folder Chuck left
in your room yesterday." 
	"Yeah, sure."  He was clearly out of it, still.  As he looked at
Psylocke, she refused to engage in eye contact.  Jean nudged him, and they
just dabbled in the hash browns. 
	Psylocke stood by herself in front of the sink, vaguely listening. 
Rogue approached her, saying, "Hey, Bets.  You been workin' early this
mornin'?  Ah think you been a bit too serious, lately." 
	"No, Rogue.  I've just been trying to sort some things out.  How
are you and Gambit doing?" 
	"As well as any couple could without kissin'.  You know, you should
use that body o' yours to get yourself a man.  Ah think you'd feel a lot
better." 
	At the suggestion, Beast nonwithstanding, the men kept Betsy in
the corner of an eye, and an ear directed straight at her, awaiting the
reply. 
	"I'm not sure if I should.  I think I've gotten through everything
pretty well, just by keeping an arms distance from personal." 
	"Come on, I've got to have someone to live my fantasies for me." 
	'If only you knew' Psylocke thought, but didn't project.  "Let me
know sometime, then.  Maybe I can get some juicy gossip for your sick
libido."  Psylocke made sure to smile when she said it, drawing the laugh. 
	Logan interjected, "Since our fearless leader doesn't seem to be
quite here yet, Everyone to the War Room in fifteen minutes.  Jean, you
can come along, too, if you want." 
	"I think I will.  Thank you, Logan."  She let her eyes linger, just
to make sure he was uncomfortable. 
	"Well, Rogue, I've got to shower before our big briefing here, so
I'll see you there." 
	Beast watched everyone, silently noting the oddness. 
	In her shower, Betsy stayed apart from the water for a few
minutes, dabbling her fingers in the stream occasionally to wet them down. 
The shower consisted of a large glass encasement, with a couple steps down
to the drain level.  After rubbing Wolverine's seed over her, she sat
directed the water down onto her. 
	Her fingers rubbing between her legs, she inserted her left index
finger.  Slowly moving this around, she added her middle finger, and moved
those around inside of her.  Then her ring finger joined them in their
attempt to fill her.  Bending down, but remaining seated, she put in her
pinky as well.  Moving this around for a full minute, she tired of the few
inches she could displace.  Brushing her thumb across her clit, she
shuddered just before she worked her thumb in to join them.  Concentrating
deeply, and shutting out the water beating down on her, she kept her hand
folded to its smallest radius.  Inch by inch, she worked her entire hand
into herself.  Twisting around, she fingered her own deepest recesses. 
Taking a deep breath, she made a fist and moved it back and forth.  Her
arm tiring fast, she allowed her orgasms to sweep over her, just as she
manifested her psychic knife. 
	Pulling her fist from her spasming cunt, she collected her fluids
with both hands.  Lifting this up to her face, she opens her mouth, and
lets it fall over her face, some of it landing in her mouth.  Running her
hands through her hair, she rinsed off in the falling stream, using no
soap. 
	"Scott, you've never been like this before.  You're so distant and
cold.  Did I do something wrong last night?" 
	"No, Jean.  It's just that I feel unsure of myself as a leader." 
	"Scott, everyone looks up to you, even Wolverine in his own way. 
You just hold everyone in such a place that you can't touch them, even if
their lives are in your hands.  Everyone holds an affection for everyone
else on the team, and it's your judgement that makes sure that affection
is where it should be, in the open and comfortably among us.  They don't
need a cold leader, they need a passionate one." 
	"Thank you, Jean.  Are you up for a quickie?  You said passion, so
I'd like to show you first." 
	"Oh, Scott.  You are just so strange today." 
	"You didn't answer me." 
	"Scott.  How can you think of sex at a time like this?" 
	"Let's see.  I see a bodacious redhead in front of me, I have an
aching erection, and you tell me to be passionate.  Then let me."  He
scooped her up in his arms.  Dropping her face down onto the bed, he found
the nearly invisible seam of her outfit and pulled her pants down to her
ankles.  Pulling his own down to accomodate his bulging member, he placed
the head at her wetting threshold. 
	"Scott!  You've never been like this before." 
	He reached forward and grabbed her breasts, pulling her down onto
him.  They each let out a hard breath.  Scott then proceeded to set his
rhythm.  His abruptness brought her to one rapid orgasm immediately, which
further wet the way for him.  After she found a more fulfilling one, he
removed himself from her, pulled her up to face him, and pushed her to her
knees in front of him. 
	"I don't think you've ever done this before.  Try it." 
	"Scott, I don't think I want too." 
	"I'm not going to force you to, but if you don't then just kneel
there." 
	Jean hesitated, and turned her head to cry.  Ignoring her, Scott
moved his hand over himself, aiming straight at her.  Feeling the rush
reach that unstoppable point, he put a hand on Jean's cheek, and turned
her face towards his quivering member.  Holding her face there, he spewed
his load onto her face, droplets clinging to her eyebrows and eyelashes,
covering her lips. 
	Wiping himself on her hair, he replaced himself in his pants and
left the room.  Holding herself in her degraded state, she whimpered,
dropped a couple tears, and as she headed for the bathroom, licked her
lips. 
	In the War Room, Psylocke was the last to show up.  Cyclops stood
proudly in front of everyone, several monitors behind him displaying their
recent history.  Jean sat in the back of the room, as did Gambit. 
	"Over the next few weeks, we will be encountering a new threat to
humanity, both normal and mutant.  First of all, the Acolytes and the
Upstarts are getting together to restart the Hellfire Club.  If those two
groups were to function together, very little would stand in their way,
since they have connections across the board including anyone left with
claims to Magneto and the Hand.  They have a full range of powers amongst
themselves, and the backing to set themselves up as the foremost
Superpower on the planet. 
	"Assisting us will be X-Factor.  The Gold team, sans Jean, is with
the Professor in the Balkans putting down the new mutant uprising." 
	Into the room walked the five members of the team: Alex Summers,
aka Havok, Lorna Dane aka Polaris, Jamie Madrox aka Multiple Man, Guido
aka Strong Guy, and Pietro Maximoff aka Quicksilver. 
	Madrox was given a lot of responsibility.  He was to run the base
operations from the mansion, and also participate on the main adventure
group. 
	"So, where is Xavier, Scott?" Val Cooper asked. 
	"He's off with the other team saving the western world again." 
	"Well, I hope he gets back to give some insight to all of these
missions.  Anyways, I want to say goodbye to my team for a little while
here.  I get to stay here and run things while you guys are off running a
tab on property damage." 
	"To each our own." 
	"Havok, remember, you're just as good as your brother, if not
better."  She grimaced at the innuendo.  "Have fun."  She swayed her hips
at him as she walked to the girls.  "Polaris, Rahne, don't let the rest of
the team get caught between your little squabbles."  [END] 

NNTP-Posting-Host: baldhead.cs.unc.edu Xref: news.umbc.edu
alt.sex.stories:139753 [BEGIN]  Part II

	"Don't worry about it, Val.  Rahne and I've made up already. 
Nothing to worry about."  The glimmer in her eye seemed to hold a little
more than expected. 
	"Yo, Guido.  You're the only real man on the job here, so keep 'em
in line." 
	"Sure thing, Val.  I really like being patronized.  Just for that,
I might make you come to my gym." 
	"When you get back, you big lump."  She jumped up and kissed his
cheek, like a little girl. 
	Madrox, the Multiple Man, feeling rather stressed, decided to
relieve himself, the way only he could.  "Val?  I've already made my dupes
for mission, and I have a couple sitting monitoring the War Room.  I'm
going to eat now, okay?" 
	"Sure, Jamie.  Actually, mind if I join you?" 
	"Not at all."  As he turned from her for the slightest second, his
tight grin escaped him a second until it returned as he turned back. 
	"So, where's the kitchen, Jamie?" 
	"It's down this hall, last door on the right.  By the way, Val. 
Pick a number between one and a hundred." 
	"I've always hated games like that.  Okay, a hundred.  A hundred
what?" 
	"Oh, you'll see." 
	As they arrived, he turned the knob, let Val enter the dark room
first.  Stepping behind her, he punched the frame of the door with both
hands.  As his mutant ability dictated, two Madroxes appeared on either
side of her.  Stepping inside, he closed the door, but left the light off. 
	"By the way, Val, this isn't the kitchen."  The two dupes held her
arms tight and her mouth covered.  "Oh, and a hundred is the number of
dupes you gotta empty before the night's over."  Her eyes were wide, and
her body was tense.  As she kicked one of them, another one appeared in
front of her.  This one systematically began removing her clothes.  First
her skirt was dropped, and then her panties joined it.  Next, her suit
jacket reached the pile, and then her blouse was torn from her, just to
shock her.  Her bra was first flipped down, and then removed. 
	"You've always been in charge, haven't ya' babe?  Well, guess who's
in charge now." 
	She was thrown to a bed, her screams now echoing in the enclosed
room.  "Jamie!!  How dare you!  You have no idea what I can do to you, do
you?" 
	"Maybe not, but I have a great idea as to what you can do for me." 
	"I mean it, Jamie.  I barely lasted that last time when there were
only ten of you." 
	"You always said, we need to grow.  Don't try to excuse yourself
from your own rules, now.  I tell you what, I'll let you off with ten this
time.  Tomorrow, you get twenty, the day after, thirty, and then forty. 
That way, you can still make that hundred mark you set earlier." 
	"Jamie..." 
	"Val?  Remember, I outnumber you.  Let's see, there are four of me,
right now."  Two hits to each of the other three allowed six more to join
the fray.  "Okay.  Now Val, you know how I like to start, so get to work." 
	Crawling off of the bed, she walked on her knees over the first
one.  Looking up at him, she took his partially flacid member between her
lips.  Once he was fully at attention, she went onto the next one.  After
all ten of them were sufficiently hard, she fell to her hands.  The first
one she sucked to firmness mounted her from behind.  The next one she
helped stepped in front of her to receive more oral ministrations.  The
others encircled the three, gently stroking themselves as she submitted to
the sandwich. 
	Feeling their spasms increasing, she felt no need to draw them
out, so she increased the pressure her tongue was delivering, and pushed
back on the one behind her.  Her back arched and her mouth overflowed as
they each came into her. 
	"Two down, Val.  Good job.  Now," 
	"Try me," another stepped forward.  Pulling her to her feet, he
maneuvered her to the bed, lay her down, facing up, and slid into her,
missionary style.  His hands moved to her breasts, squeezing gently, and
his motions revealed his awareness to her body. 
	The others waited in the shadows.  The eyes didn't move as he
calmly increased his thrusts and spilled himself into her. 
	"After such a tender display (I'm so ashamed of me)" 
	"I get to chart some unexplored territory," another finished again. 
Gruffly picking her up, leaving her face in a pillow, and facing her down,
his member found its way between her smooth, firm buttocks.  Holding out a
hand, he received a tube of lubricant from another, and he placed a golf
ball sized load on her puckered hole.  With his tip, he mashed slowly into
the pile, and then slowly wedged his way in.  As his hips met hers, he
withdrew completely, and started over.  Suddenly, he pushed his entire
length into her, and found the muffled scream.  Rapidly, he thrust into
her rear, as her screams died down to a silent open mouth.  As he neared
his climax, he reached forward, grabbed her long blond hair, and pulled
her up, making the angle more difficult on her, making her tighten around
his spewing length. 
	"Oh, man.  That was great.  I gotta try that."  The next one
mimicked him, but pulled her up by grabbing her breasts from behind as he
sent his load into her. 
	"Okay, Val.  That's four of me.  Now, we'll make you feel better. 
Guys?" 
	Four more stepped forward, each grabbing a limb.  Facing her up,
they tied her to the posts, spread-eagled, classically.  One of them
climbed between her knees, his face in her groin.  Another straddled her
stomach, and the last two stood on the side of the bed.  The first one set
his lips to hers, his tongue darting around her genitalia.  The one on her
chest rested his member between her breasts.  The other two placed their
lips on her nipples, their hands pressing her breasts together.  Her moans
were instantaneous, and deep.  As she tried to twist and writhe, her
frustration at the ties heightened her pleasure.  The penis between her
breasts now started to oscillate.  In the throes of her bondage, the waves
of her orgasms passed over her in rapid succession. 
	At the height of it, she felt herself penetrated below and another
presented himself to her lips.  She accepted this out of sheer gratitude,
and as she fellt one spill himself between her legs, she lost track of the
member between her breasts.  Opening her eyes, she found another member in
waiting by her mouth, and a hand stroking it.  Just as one pulled back,
the other touched on her lips.  With the two heads touching each other
right in front of her mouth, they sent simultaneous loads into her mouth. 
	When the flow stopped, and she came up for air, she felt her bonds
being broken.  Moved over in the bed, the original Madrox lay down next to
her.  His member resting on her thigh, she rolled over on top of him and
settled down onto it.  The other two stepped onto the bed.  One came up
behind her, settling himself between his creator's legs, he moved his
member up into the rear of his superior.  Val yelped as he reached full
depth.  As she opened her mouth for a large breath, the last one's
instrument found its sheath.  The indomitable triange was formed, and
everyone was being more than satisfied. 
	Being the same person, they all found a simultaneous orgasm,
filling her every orifice.  Val collapsed onto the groins of Madrox, and
they collapsed onto her.  She drifted into a fierce slumber as she was
settled into the bed more comfortably. 
	The War room was busy with roughly forty Madroxes running around,
doing various tasks, checking monitors, scribbling down odd notes, and
generally keeping the job as difficult as possible. 
	In the hangar, the two teams, with all thirteen mutants boarded
the Blackbird and found their seats.  Guido remained slightly cramped in
the tail of the place.  Lorna Dane, known commonly as Polaris, walked back
to the compartment he was strapped into, and checked his harnesses.  "Gee,
thanks, Lorna.  Did I ever tell you how ravishing you look when you strap
me in?" 
	"Every chance you get, Guido."  Her voice was tight, and
nonchalant. 
	"You know, Lorn', I think you should really look into working out
with bigger men.  I think you're the second best looking person in the
world." 
	"And who's supposed to be the best, Guido?" she was still checking
his belt. 
	"Ce moi."  His fingers fanned across his neckline just to imitate a
commercial model. 
	She giggled slightly.  "Oh, really, now.  Guido, you should watch
who you flirt with, 'cuz you might not always get what you expect." 
	"Oh, don't break my heart, Lorna."  His lips formed a pout that
melted her icy demeanor. 
	"Oh, come on, Guido.  I'll always love you."  She kissed his cheek,
and left a big grin on his face. 
        In an coffeehouse on the outskirts of London, two faces hovered
over a wooden checkerboard.  Plain pieces rested on its surface as a
clockhand on one of two faces moved silently. 
	"So tell me, Gamesmaster, exactly who are we playing against?" 
	"The challenge of the game is to measure the opponent, not identify
him.  You really must learn quicker to be a key member of the Upstarts,
young Shinobi." 
	"But the Acolytes are just as worthy opponents as the X-Men.  What
use is it not to let us know who the game is with?" 
	"I have reasons for every move in the game.  The opponents
constantly change, but the game still goes on.  The opening, even though
non-standard, is still rather predicible in its outcome.  The middle game
has been played to the fullest by the X-Men in the past.  Now with the
Acolytes coming onto the board, the only thing changing is the
perspective.  The goal remains the same, only now we're looking at the
board from a slightly different angle." 
	"Your riddles are tiresome.  Why don't you speak plainly?" 
	"If I did that, I'd be no better than a mutant." 
        "So what are we up against here, Scott?" 
	"We're not exactly sure, but with Madrox and Val running the
mansion, and hooking up with a couple contacts here, I'm sure we'll be
more than enough for them." 
	"Who are our contacts?" 
	"You'll see them in a couple seconds."  Before the hatch even
opened, two more were among the crew on the grounded plane.  The smell of
brimstone marked off the presence of Nightcrawler.  And the spooky phasing
ability of another through the floor made everyone aware that Kitty Pryde,
aka Shadowcat, was present. 
	After all of the pleasantries were done, eventually outside due
the cramped quarters of the jet.  As they headed off to the cars in
waiting, Polaris heard a soft but definite cry, "Lorna..." 
	At that moment, she forgot to let Guido out of the harness in the
Blackbird, and guessed that he fell asleep.  Telling everyone else just to
leave a car for her, she ran back to the plane.  As she entered the
compartment he sat in, she found him in tears as his large fingers were
unable to manipulate the harness.  Seeing him like this made her maternal
nature come out and she hugged him as she magnetically undid the lock. 
	"Oh, Guido.  I'm sorry.  It's just that Kitty and Kurt showed up
and we all got wrapped up in greeting them." 
	"Don't worry about it Lorna."  He sniffled quietly, his childish
performance unquestioned.  "I'm used to being left alone.  Lila did it
before.  I would've just waited until nightfall to break the damn thing
and go back home, wherever that is."  The guilt trip worked flawlessly. 
	"Oh, come on, Guido.  I'll never leave you like that again."  She
hoped he understood her.  "How can I make it up to you?" 
	Guido understood perfectly.  "Help me out of this cubicle."  As he
tried to get up, she pressed against the wall, trying to direct his huge
body out the door.  Unable to avoid contact, his chest pressed against her
face as he stood.  Unable to look down, she felt a something push at her
stomach. 
	"Guido, back off, you're crushing me." 
	"Sorry, Lorna."  He pulled away, only long enough to shut the door
as she looked down to see his huge penis poking her.  For some reason, she
didn't quite expect this from an eight foot tall four hundred pound man. 
Perhaps she never thought about it. 
	"Guido, what are you doing?" 
	"Trying to be made up to."  With that, he lifted her by her
uniform, and let her fall out of it as though a rag doll.  Her pants still
on, he pulled them down to fully expose her. 
	"Oh, God, Guido.  I don't think it's going to happen.  We both
already know that we shouldn't, but I just don't think it would fit in the
first place." 
	"I think we should make it fit the first place, since the second
would be even worse, Lorna." 
	"Guido, I'm serious." 
	"So am I, Ms. Dane.  First, say ahhh..." 
	"Guido..." was all she could get out before it was at her lips. 
Even as she opened her mouth, only about five inches of him could fit into
her straining mouth. 
	"Oh, Ms. Dane.  I don't think your mouth was made for this," was
his response after a few minutes of trying to work her tongue, just before
he took himself out. 
	"Guido.  I really don't think this is going to work." 
	"Work with me here, Lorna.  Open 'em wide." 
	As she spread her legs, he noted first her absolute baldness
below, and then asked her, "Do you shave, or are you normally like this?" 
	"It was completely removed, back in the days when the Shadow King
was in control of Legion.  He yanked it out hair by hair." 
	"I was just wondering, what color it was." 
	"Just like all the blondes you normally see, it was brown." 
	"Then?" he dawdled a finger through her green locks. 
	"It was a bet I made with Havok.  He bet me he could make me come
thirty times in an hour." 
	"And if he wouldn've won?" 
	"His hair would be green." 
	"Oh," he sat in mild contemplation.  "Climb on up, Lorna.  There's
only fifteen inches to take.  This was the main reason Lila kept me around
for so long.  No one else could fill her up like I could." 
	"I'm trying to, Guido, but look." 
	Bending down slightly, the height between their groins was
matched, except the shadow of the head of his penis completely covered her
open lips.  In wonder, he prodded against it a couple times, drawing a
couple yelps from Lorna. 
	"Okay, then.  Try my finger first."  With that, his index finger
slid effortlessly into her. 
	"Oh, God, Guido.  That's thicker than Alex." 
	"Okay, then try this one."  His middle finger, soon replaced his
index. 
	"Christ.  That's worse than the Shadow King." 
	"Good.  Now try them both on for size."  As they both penetrated
her, she let forth a ghastly scream, and if not for her juices flowing
down his hand, she might have projected and image of pain. 
	"Good, Lorna.  Now, you seem ready."  He lifted her onto him, her
weight resting on the head. 
	She reached down, pulled her thighs up, and tried to pull the lips
apart even further. 
	"Jesus Fucking Christ.  Guido, it's going in.  I never thought I
could." 
	"I always knew you could, Lorna.  Now, hold onto something.  I want
to give you a good sound fucking." 
	Her hands reached out and got hold of some cables, and her legs
moved >from his chest to around his waist.  His hands held her buttocks
and supported her lower body.  When she settled into place, he started
moving himself further into her.  Even as her eyes rolled and fluttered,
he kept going until reaching a barrier two inches short of complete
penetration. 
	"Don't do it, Guido.  It that's my cervix you're bumping into." 
	"I know, Lorna."  At that, he began to withdraw himself.  When his
head was the only part remaining inside her, he began to thrust his length
back into her.  She cursed as he picked up speed.  She cursed as he bumped
her cervix again.  She cursed as he shoved a finger into her rectum. 
	Finally, after about twenty minutes, and a good pint of fluid from
her, Guido yelled to her, "I'm gonna cum now, Lorna.  I'm gonna be in real
deep, too, so hang on."  As his load started to loose into her, she
accepted its warmth.  Still more came out, and he began to slide out of
her.  When he slipped free, he let her hang from the cables, and aimed his
spurting member at her, each load landing on a different part.  Her face
was being drenched, her breasts, completely covered, her thighs,
glistening.  When he let it down, a string still hung from it to her, and
then to the floor. 
	"Oh, God, Guido.  I never knew you had so much." 
	"Anytime you want a bath, just let me know, honey."  With that, he
replaced himself in his pants.  "We better get you cleaned up.  Do you
remember where we're supposed to be going?" 
	"Yeah, an inn just outside of London.  They should have left
directions in the car." 
	"Gee, Lorna.  I don't know what I'd do without you." 
	"Here, hand me a towel, would ya'?"  She proceeded to wipe herself
down.  "Now Guido, you have to be careful.  If Alex catches you, you'll be
off the team." 
	"Oh, don't worry about him.  I'm sure, by the time this is over,
that everything should be worked out." 
	"Well, I just want to say that I warned you."  She proceeded to get
dressed, and lead them to the car.  She let the rain pour on her outside. 
On a backstreet, she even got out and stripped, allowing the rain to wash
any more evidence from her.  Guido just watched.  

This being a work of progress, and with the ego of almost any Image
writer, the timing of the postings of the various parts will be rather
sporadic.  Actually, I never noticed it before, But "Image-writer", need I
say more?  3{:^)} 
-Solar 

Brian C. Ladd, Curator, Mindnumbing Archive MNA is *not* affiliated with
the University of North Carolina; it is a personal project which the
University will neither acknowledge nor condone.  Let your Congress
critters know you vote and you oppose their heavy-handed attempts to
stiffle free expression on-line. 
 
