Reestablishing contact

The country of Wakanda was in a state of quiet uproar. An outside observer might have seen the plumes of smoke rising from the buildings of the isolated country’s capital city and been forgiven for reaching the conclusion that the state of the country’s mood was due to some terrorist attack.

The millions of people who lived there knew better, even if they were bound mentally to secrecy to never discuss the truth with anyone not graced with the light of Wakanda’s true king.

Birnin Zana’s neat and orderly streets were silent. The people who walked down them said not a word to each other beyond the customary greetings. If one paid them any mind, one might have seen the people’s fists clench and unclench, as if they were struggling to deal with an onset of serious stress.

Fathers and their sons dug up old weapons and armor out of storage closets while mothers and daughters wept privately and prayed for the salvation of Wakanda's true king Mark Williams, the man who meant everything to them.

Jean Grey watched them all from her position in her true husband’s royal bedchambers. She sat nude and cross legged in the middle of the room, hovering with the application of her telekinetic abilities. Her dark crimson hair floated above her, as if submerged in water. Her large tits jiggled and swayed as she hovered up and down. No one dared disturb her and Ororo.

Her eyes swiveled over to the woman in question. Ororo Munroe sat naked on the bed which dominated a large part of the room. She was naked as the day she was born. Her big black breasts rose and fall with her every breath. Her eyes stared blankly ahead. She’d been shot in the back by one of the Dora who’d apparently turned traitor, if Okoye was to be believed. Jean knew better. Knew that the traitorous Dora could only have been Mystique in disguise. Mark’s hold over the Dora Milaje had been ironclad and she’d scanned them all herself for any hint of treasonous thoughts.

It’s all my fault. If I’d been able to fight off the Phoenix’s psychic call I’d have been able to save Mark and Ororo. Now, he’s gone and Ororo is more devastated now than she’s ever been.

Tears prickled at the edges of her emerald eyes.

She clenched her fists. Ornate glassware shattered. Cracks crept along the pristine walls of the Royal Bedchamber.

No! He’s still alive. He has to be. Magneto saved him from that bullet. He wants him alive. I just have to find him!

A low ring resounded throughout the room.

“Really, Xavier? You call me now of all times?” she gripped her X-phone and brought it over to her with her telekinesis.

Unknown number?

She was about to ignore the call, but stopped as her finger hovered over the “end call” button.

What if…

Jean answered the call and brought the phone up to her ear.

“Jean?”

Her eyes widened. Her heart skipped a beat. Her pussy tingled.

She knew that voice. Had grown to worship it.

“M-Mark?” she whimpered, a hint of desperation entering her voice. Uncertainty gripped her and she cursed herself for her weakness.

“Yep, it’s me baby,” he said. “How are you? Is everything alright? Is Ororo okay?”

The naked concern and warmth in his voice made her eyes shimmer with happy tears.

There was a shuffling from the bed as Ororo approached her. Her hazel eyes were wet.

Jean put the phone on speaker.

“I’m much better now that you’ve called me,” she said. “Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Eh, I’m alright. The Brotherhood took me to an island country called Genosha. Turns out Magneto wanted to recruit me and use me to help him conquer humanity,” he said.

Genosha. So Magneto’s not even bothering to hide anymore. I can’t wait to show him what a huge mistake he’s made.

Ororo smiled.

“But you got the better of him, my King, didn’t you?” she said, her voice suffused with pride.

“Ororo? Damn, it’s great to hear your voice. I was worried Mystique had really hurt you,” he said.

The dark-skinned mutant quivered as a miniature orgasm struck her. Such was the depth to which her sexuality was attuned to him.

“The Dora spear’s stun setting hurts a great deal, but I quickly recovered. Nakia was the worst injured by far.”

“How is she?” Mark asked.

“She’s been comatose since she arrived in the Palace with a sealed gunshot wound. Wakanda’s doctors have assured me that she’ll make a full recovery, however,” Jean supplied. She sent off a few telepathic commands to her servitor nodes. Within minutes, the Wakandan military would be given orders to mobilize. “I’m much more concerned about you. Where are you on the island, specifically? Are you in any danger?”

“No, not right now,” he said. “I’m in a building on the southern coast that used to be a hotel, but was converted into a government building. Magneto has left me alone since this morning. Mystique said that he’s waiting to see if I’ll prove myself trustworthy enough to be allowed to roam freely.”

Alarm bells wailed within her mind. A glance at her sister-wife’s suddenly pale eyes showed that she wasn’t alone in her concern.

“Mystique?” Jean said. “Mark, she’s very dangerous. Be extremely careful around her. If she thinks for even a moment that you’ve managed to call for help, she’ll kill you.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I turned her and Sabertooth into my loyal slaves,” he said. “Mystique’s currently looking into getting Natasha Romanoff freed so I can add her to my harem.”

Jean’s eyes widened again. She shook her head and smiled. Ororo giggled.

“Unbelievable,” the dark-skinned mutant whispered to herself. She slipped her index finger into her tight pussy. “Ah... it seems there’s nothing my King isn’t capable of.”

Hm. Enslaving Natasha Romanoff would be a great boon to Mark. Along with her connections to SHIELD and the Avengers, Black Widow could be one of Mark’s best covert assets along with Mystique. I’d rather Mark just sit tight until we can rescue him, but he was never the sort to let an opportunity like this go to waste. That's part of the reason he had Ororo bring me to him, after all.

Jean bit her lip as she imagined Black Widow and Mystique spreading their legs for Mark and begging him to ravage them with his massive cock, only for Mark to grab Jean instead, forcing her to bend over and present her big bubble butt so he could fuck her right in front of them while they were **** to watch.

“I-I’d ask how you managed that, Master, but it can wait until you’re safe and sound back in Wakanda,” Jean said, dismissing her fantasies. They could wait until her master was safe.

“I agree,” Ororo said. She trailed a finger down to her pussy and started rubbing her clit. “My King, we can have a Dora strike team extract you from Genosha at any time. Just give the word and we’ll be on our way.”

“The word is given,” their master said. “Sabertooth said this phone was completely untraceable, but Mystique made some modifications to allow you to home in on my position. Gather a strike team of the finest Dora handpicked by Okoye herself and take them with you on a stealth craft. Bring Scott and Shuri along, but leave Challa. I still need him to act as king while there are still Wakandans who aren’t under my direct control.”

Both women were already getting dressed in their X-Men uniforms and vibranium armor.

“Yes Master, it will be done,” Jean said, confidence filling her voice for the first time in over a day. “And Mark, please be careful.”

“I will, Jean. Ororo. I love you both,” he said.

Jean gasped.

He loves me.

“I-I love you too,” she and Ororo stammered like a schoolgirls with a crush. Their pussies were practically drenched with liquid arousal.

“Now get moving, ladies. Make me proud,” he ended the call.

Jean and Ororo stared at each other for a long moment. They nodded at each other. They would do everything in their power to make Mark Williams the proudest master who ever lived.