X-Men: Evolution - The Brotherhood's New Mutant

Challenge accepted NamiChwan! Or rather, had this story kicking around for a while and figured this would be a fun place to post it with a few alterations. All characters aged up appropriately, and hope you folks like early '00s X-Men.

"Well hi there, my name's Mallory, and I'll be taking care you folks this evening," the upscale waitress beamed, her red vest and white uniform muted in the candle light, "can I start you all off with something to drink."

"I'll just take a Sprite, though do you want a glass of wine, Auntie, it's my treat?" The mutant Evan Daniels smiled. Better known as Spyke to his high school friends, he had tried his best to dress up for the occasion, trading in his usual tank top for a blazer/tank top combo--an admittedly mighty concession considering his mutant ability and how readily it destroyed his clothes.

"Ha ha, no thank you, Evan." The auntie in question replied. "Some water would be just fine, I'm parched," said Ororo Munroe, a lilting Kenyan accent peeking through her voice. She had worn gold bell-shaped earrings and let her long white hair down, something she rarely except when in her uniform as the X-Men, Storm.

"Coming right up," Mallory beamed, her blonde ponytail bouncing as she left the two mutants to their hushed conversation.

"Evan, really. This is too much," Ororo chided, gesturing to the opulent dining area and the bay window opposite their table.

The restaurant had a gorgeous view of Long Island Sound, the dappled lights of Connecticut twinkling just across the water, only visible thanks to Storm's ability to create clear night skies.

"No, Auntie. I got the money!" Her teen nephew shrugged.

"Really, Evan, let me pick up some of the bill," the ever-practical weather-witch pushed again, her hand reaching across the table to touch her sweet relative.

"No way!" Repeated Spyke, withdrawing from her grasp. "I saved up my skateboard instructor money, plus a little extra birthday cash from my parents. You've done a whole heck of a lot for me, Auntie O, I want to do something extra nice for you."

Ororo sighed then smiled at her darling nephew, folding her hands contentedly beneath her chin.

"Well...it is all very nice, thank you Evan. I guess I don't get many chances to leave the X-Mansion, or my plants in the green house, so it was kind of you to to invite me out."

Having been told by Evan it was to be a special night, Storm had worn one of her formal outfits and was quite glad she did. She had on a stylish green trench coat that reached down to her smooth calves, coupled with a pair of strappy heels and a brown pencil skirt that matched rather nicely with her shoulder-less tan blouse.

Taking a moment to look out at the stars and calm blue waters, she really did feel good, enjoying the chance to flaunt her beauty for a change and not just be the matron for a house full of high-schoolers. She was only in her 30s after all, a relative youth compared to the Professor and the angry Canadian she would otherwise be dining with.

"So what is it you’re planning, Evan Daniels?" Storm asked aloud, taking a sip from her water after their orders were taken. "You aren't usually this nice to me."

"Ouch but fair, Is it really that obvious?" The blonde boy grinned, his blazer wrinkling a little at his shoulders. Ororo just folded her arms expectantly, a single eyebrow raised. "Fine, fine, I'll tell you. I was gonna save this till later, but I don't want you to think it's anything bad, so..." the young man pulled out a wrinkled sheet of paper and prepared himself, his speech classes finally coming in handy.

"Auntie O, I can't begin to thank you for all you've done for me this year. I barely know where to begin. From hooking me up with the professor after I got my spikes to making sure I had someone to talk to while I got used to a new school--new friends, heck a whole new life! It's scary out there to be...well, what we are, but I know I wouldn't be where I am today without all of your help and guidance. You're the reason I'm an X-Man, a straight-A and B student, and the reason I still get to skateboard and play basketball despite my body's tendency to shoot up like a porcupine."

The two shared a laugh, an auburn-haired man from a nearby table idly leaning in to listen as Evan continued.

"So on account of all that and more, here's this dinner, which again I am paying for," Spyke reiterated, "but also...as you know I've got my confirmation coming up, and I'm going to be headed home for Winter Break, but I was wondering..."

Ororo raised her midnight eyebrows. Her nephew was set to complete his theological training at his family's local church and take the rite of confirmation, affirming his Christian belief. She was already planning on making an appearance the day of, but if he was asking her to be there, that meant...

"Evan, are you asking me to be..." she started, tears welling-up at the corners of her eyes as she made the connection: he wanted to name her as his godmother.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, no! No! let me finish," he interrupted her, waving his hands in the air. Storm clamped her lips shut, an impish smile forming across her cheeks. A single tear rolled down her face as it did.

"I was wondering," Evan started again, "considering you're already a goddess, ha ha, but more importantly, the best auntie a guy could ask for, if you would be willing to be..."

Bzzt!

The world went negative for a moment, the colors around the two reversing for just a split second, before going back to normal. Well, going back to almost normal.

"would you be willing to be...my cheap whore?" Spyke asked, almost sounding earnest.

It was the very question Ororo had been waiting for! Teary-eyed, she sucked in a breath and stared at the young john lovingly, lowering her trench coat as she did to bare her chocolate shoulders to her client.

"Meester Daniels, of course! Me so happy be your whore!" She exclaimed in broken patois, shimmying her round hips wickedly in her seat. "But why Meester Daniels wait so long? You should give Stormie money now! Me slutty, slutty whore. You like. Good price."

"Ssh, keep it down," he reprimanded his dim-witted prostitute, looking around the restaurant to see if anyone had heard. "I just thought we should take it slow, you know. First, get something to eat, get to know each other a little."

"Mm, no," the former teacher disagreed, "Give Stormie all money now. No want date. Only hungy for big skater-boy dick, yum." Ororo mimed fellatio with her hand and tongue, in case Spyke didn't quite get the message. "Me sucky dick, good good, Meester Daniels. Got ten dollar? Sucky dick ten dollar Meester Daniels. Me all clean. Good price."

"Yeah no, I mean, sure I have ten dollars," the young mutant sighed, patting his breast pocket, the quiet realization that sometimes you can pay too little for a hooker hitting him hard.

Stormie gasped excitedly. "Me love Meester Daniel. Me sucky dick." And pulling her hair back, she crawled beneath the table, just her flimsy heels and quivering rump visible below the table cloth.

"I didn't mean right now, I...GAHAaaaaah," the teen moaned, already feeling his ex-auntie's lips on his unzipped shaft; "huhholy fuck," he whispered, reaching a hand underneath the table to clench her white tresses in a fist. "Goddamn, This is way better than the girls at my school."

"Mluh, mluh, mluh, mah," Ororo gurgled, hoovering appreciatively. Then she took a second to opening her mouth nice and wide to show off her signature trick.

“JeeeEEEzus,” Spyke jolted in his seat, “did you seriously just shoot electricity at my balls?” He craned his head down, flipping up the table cloth to finally get a look at the white-haired milf currently impaling her head on his spike.

“Me name is Stormie, ha ha! Me love Meester Daniels. Dick so good,” she groaned throatily, teasing his lower head with the tip of her tongue, her grey eyes staring up at him naughtily. Then tucking his length into her cheek, Ororo began to lick and suck once more, clouds forming across her eyes as teeny-tiny arcs of blue lightning filled her open mouth.

“FuUHH-cker,” Evan cursed, a bony spike shooting from his wrist into the carpet below. The controlled electrics while somewhat painful proved a pleasurable and tingly addition to Stormie’s warm wet mouth—the moisture of which Evan half-wondered if she was also enhancing with her mutant weather powers.

Plunging deeper into her humid slop hole, Spyke groaned through the static shocks, feeling Ororo’s throat **** and spasm as he pressed her skull to his hilt. Her eyes watering, a strange breeze started to fill the restaurant, swirling in and around their table, as Stormie fought for oxygen. Her eyes still ghostly white, she tried feebly to unimpale herself, but was unfortunately at the mercy of her ex-nephew’s biceps, holding her down as he pistoned into her soppy trachea.

Finally relenting, Spyke released his grip, his sodden cock sliding out of Stormie as she choked and gasped. Tear-streaked eyeshadow had collected at her cheekbones and snot now crest her upper lip, making her look all the more pathetic as a string of clingy saliva still linked her to Evan’s aching shaft.

“Stormie (cough) no sucky like that,” the cheap whore wheezed, gaping up at her still visibly aroused john.

“I’ll tip you extra,” Evan replied dismissively, tapping the pocket where is plump wallet remained. “Now finish me off, slut,” he pressed his slick rod back against her lips, a bit of pre-spunk already visible at the tip.

“Ahem,” coughed the waitress Mallory, her arms crossed above her bright red vest. She and several nearby patrons were all visibly annoyed at the rutting mutants.

“Me sucky... Meester Daniels outside?” Ororo offered helpfully. Spyke nodded and tucked in his dick. Boredly playing with the collected body fluids on her face, Stormie let out an ice cold breath, freezing the effluvia into one long chunk. The result vaguely resembled a cream-colored popsicle, so Stormie began to cheerily suckle on it on as Spyke threw multiple apology bills on the restaurant table. Then arm over her naked shoulders, Spyke pulled Stormie away, planning to reconvene their rendezvous in the adjoining parking lot.

Watching his latest creations depart, the auburn-haired man wandered over to the now empty table, pocketing Evan’s discarded spike as a little souvenir. Not much older than the Spyke, he was dressed in khakis and a button down shirt, entirely black save for a logo depicting a yellow rabbit across his heart. Despite his dark orange hair, which he wore long down the back of his neck, he had no freckles, just a long oblong face that might’ve looked handsome if he actually bothered to smile, now and then.

But Elliot Boggs wasn’t particularly happy. Since discovering his powers of relationship manipulation, or curse more like as he saw it, his life had been turned upside-down by the worst symptom of puberty imaginable: realizing you're a mutant. The revelation of his so-called gifts had taken its toll on the young Elliot, but he was doing his best to regain control, though not entirely on his own terms.

"Sorry about that, hon," the waitress Mallory shook her head, after resetting Stormie and Spyke's table, "guess some people just can't keep it in their pants, huh?"

"Something like that," Elliot muttered, tapping his index finger on the pointy spike as he stared out the bay window.

"Is there anything else I can get ya, darling?" The sugary-sweet blonde asked.

"I don't know, my half of the deal?" The young man tersely replied.

Mallory paused for a moment and stared, before pursing her lips and pulling her shoulders back. "How did you know it was me?" her previous chipper tone of voice was suddenly gone, replaced by something much deeper and menacing.

"Eh, relationship powers," answered Elliot, mockingly making spirit fingers with his hands, "it'd be tough for a shapeshifter get the best of me, when I know intuitively exactly how I'm related to each person I meet."

"Hmm, makes sense," the waitress turned to face the window, "but tell me, oh magnificent Mr. Boggs, what exactly did you do to help me take down the X-Men here?" Her tone even darker now, she presented Elliot with her reflection, her skin shifting briefly to reveal its natural blue complexion in the glass. After all, her name was Raven Darkholme, formerly Principal Darkholme of Bayville High, but always and forever the mutant shapeshifter, Mystique.

"I fail to see what turning Storm into a 'whore' accomplishes," the mutant femme fatale tutted, before returning effortlessly to her vapid blonde.

"Her nephew's cheap whore," Elliot corrected, "and I don't know, keeps her busy? Gives you one less X-Man to deal with. Two if you count the nephew. I'm not trying to do anything permanent, but looks like he's got enough pocket change to keep them bumping uglies for a day or two, before they go their separate ways. Relationships with prostitutes only last as long you've got something they want, namely cash. Once that runs out they can go back to their separate lives and start to forget, returning to their previous relationship once my powers wear off."

Mystique/Mallory looked almost impressed, but Elliot wasn't here for praise. Finally turning away from the window, he continued. "Speaking of which, time to pay up!"

"Not just yet," Mystique replied sternly, "I need more than just two X-Men somewhat indisposed, before I give you the information you want."

"And what's to stop me from turning you into someone that'll just give me that info for free, huh? Altering our little relationship to something more personally beneficial" Elliot said with a scowl.

"Tch tch, you know I've been wondering that same question," the blonde waitress smiled, picking up a glass pitcher. "And I came to the conclusion, if you were going to do that, you would have done so already."

It was the auburn-haired boy's turn to pause, gritting his teeth, as realizing he'd played his hand too quickly.

"I think, and correct me if I'm wrong," purred Mystique, leaning over to refill his glass, "you don't know what information you need from me, or what relationship would be the most effective to get it, so you can't change me, otherwise ALLLLLLLLLL your work will be for naught."

Elliot's water now full to the brim, Mystique dropped the glass container on the floor, shattering it into a pile of soggy shards.

"How clumsy of me," said Mystique, some of Mallory's high-pitched charm sneaking back into her voice. "I best get something to clean all this up. I take it you'll be heading out soon?"

"Oh. And why's that?" Elliot drawled, sullenly drumming his fingers on the table. Without even trying, Mystique had him well and truly beat.

"Why Elliot, it's a school night," the former principal smiled, "you have high school to attend."

Cue the theme music!