The Black Priestess

Selene Gallio’s private chambers were a temple to ancient decadence nestled within Krakoa’s living architecture. Obsidian pillars veined with pulsing red energy rose toward a vaulted ceiling draped in shadow and silk. Ancient relics from civilizations long turned to dust lined the walls, while the air carried the faint metallic tang of blood and ozone.

The Black Priestess reclined on a throne of living wood and bone, wearing a sheer black gown that clung to her pale curves like liquid night. She raised a single eyebrow as the door opened and three figures entered.

Mystique led the way, towering and regal in a form-fitting white-and-gold ensemble that barely contained her enhanced physique. To her left walked Destiny — Irene — equally as imposing, blue-skinned and scarlet-haired, moving with predatory grace and sharp yellow eyes that saw far more than the future. To Mystique’s right was Emma Frost, equally transformed yet not as tall or statuesque as the other two, her icy beauty now sharpened into something far more dangerous.

Selene’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. “Well. This is certainly different. I take it you are starting a trend, Raven? Blue might be YOUR colour, but it looks terrible on both of you.”

Mystique’s yellow eyes gleamed as she approached, hips swaying. “It’s a… Fad we’re trying out. We’ve come with an offer, Selene. One worthy of a queen who has outlived empires.”

Irene circled to the left, trailing a finger along the arm of Selene’s throne. “We know your appetites. The hunger that never truly fades. The boredom of centuries.”

Emma took the right side, her voice a siren’s call. “And we can satisfy that hunger. Give you more than you’ve ever dreamed.”

Selene laughed softly, but her eyes were calculating. “Bold. I like bold. But this is nothing I haven’t heard before from others with more to offer in hand than you do. Speak, then.”

What followed was not a negotiation.

It was a seduction.

Mystique stepped close enough that their breaths mingled. With a thought, she let her form ripple — shifting perfectly into an exact duplicate of Selene herself, down to the scent of ancient myrrh and the subtle thrum of stolen life **** in her veins.

“Feel,” Mystique whispered in Selene’s own voice, pressing their bodies together. Selene’s hand rose, curious, tracing the perfect replica of her own cheek. The touch lingered. Then Mystique kissed her — deep, hungry, commanding. Selene stiffened for half a heartbeat… then melted into it with a low moan.

“This is only the beginning.”

Irene moved behind Selene, assuming the Black Priestess’s form as well, pressing against her back while Emma slid in from the side. Hands roamed. Clothing dissolved into nothing as the three pale queens worked in perfect, terrifying sync. Selene’s gown was peeled away under their combined touch by the careful hands of Emma and Irene. Flicking the black cloth aside to be discarded across the room. Soon, four bodies — all four identical in appearance, all four pale-skinned and dark-haired — tangled together on the throne before it slowly moved to the fur rug on the tiled floor beneath them.

They worshipped her first.

Emma’s mouth found one of Selene’s breasts, sucking hard while her telepathy brushed teasingly against the ancient mutant’s mind. Irene’s hands explored lower, fingers skilled and precise, while her foresight let her anticipate every twitch of pleasure before it happened. Mystique claimed Selene’s mouth again and again, feeding her slow, deliberate drops of blood from a small cut on her lip.

Mystique’s blood worked fast.

Selene’s eyes widened as power flooded her system. She gasped, arching hard as her skin began to shift — pale flesh darkening into a rich, lustrous ocean blue with subtle violet undertones. Her hair lengthened and lightened to a deep blood-crimson. Her curves swelled, becoming more exaggerated, more perfect. She moaned loudly as new strength surged through her limbs.

“Yes…” she hissed, voice trembling with ecstasy. “More—MORE!”

Mystique smiled against her lips. “Drink, Selene.”

She guided the Black Priestess’s head to one of her heavy, leaking breasts. Selene latched on without hesitation, sucking greedily. Breastmilk mixed with the serum flooded her mouth. Her body convulsed in orgasm as the connection snapped into place.

Mystique flexed the link.

For one long, terrifying second, Selene’s body froze mid-thrust, completely under Mystique’s control. Her eyes widened in shock and fury — then in dark, helpless arousal as Mystique made her grind slowly against Irene’s thigh.

“Beautiful,” Mystique husked, releasing the hold. “You are part of me now. Part of us. What’s mine is yours… and what’s yours is mine.”

Selene shuddered, pupils blown wide. She came again, harder this time, clawing at Mystique’s back as the full weight of the bond settled over her.

When the haze of orgasms finally cleared, the four women lay tangled together, sweat-slick and glowing. Selene’s new blue form was breathtaking — taller, stronger, radiating raw power. She slowly sat up, running her hands over her changed body with undisguised delight.

“Magnificent,” she breathed. Turning her gaze to her throne, she gave the heavy furniture a swift kick, laughing as it sailed across the throne room and shattered like glass against the stone wall. She laughed at her new strength, her new power. Then her expression sharpened. “And the price?”

Mystique smiled, fangs glinting. “No price. Only purpose. With your power amplified with mine, you can consume more than just life **** now. You can devour people. Completely. I have turned you into an apex predator, the perfect infiltrator. The type to cause true **** in its prey.”

Selene’s eyes lit with unholy hunger. “True ****… on Krakoa.”

“Exactly,” Irene said softly, tracing a finger down Selene’s spine. “We feed you. You ensure our enemies stay dead. Their life **** becomes ours. True immortality. Pseudo-goddesses.”

Emma smirked, cupping one of Selene’s newly enhanced breasts. “And the pleasure never ends.”

Selene was silent for a long moment. Then she threw her head back and laughed — rich, dark, and utterly delighted.

“When do we begin?”

Mystique pulled her into a deep, possessive kiss. The other two queens pressed in close, bodies entwining once more.

“Shaw will be resurrected soon,” Mystique murmured against Selene’s lips. “He’ll remember being devoured. You will be the one to greet him… and make sure he never troubles us again.”

Selene’s smile was pure predator. “I look forward to tasting him properly this time.”

The four blue queens — Mystique at their center — lost themselves once more in each other. Their groans and gasps of pleasure filled the antechamber as they continued to explore each other’s limits.