Sex and Conversion on the Blackbird

Kurt glanced at the various screens in the Blackbird's cockpit, noting an airliner on a trans-Atlantic flight about two miles off to the north. The four royal Markandan aircraft keeping pace with them were perfectly invisible to the sensors. He knew they were out there but it was quite the strange feeling to be on the other end of the tech advantage for once. At least versus Earthly military forces. Seeing that everything was fine and the auto-pilot had the flight under control, he got up and moved back to attend to his king.

A few meters back Emma bounced up and down frantically, ass wedged between the king's thighs as he sat back in a reclined seat. She was moaning, mouth open and eyes rolled back. When she slowed, Mark gave her a spank to speed up again. Kurt couldn't help but take a quick glance at her large pale breasts bouncing, their heavy masses swung heavily with her raucous movement before manners made him look elsewhere. Betsy was just as nude as Emma, bent and leaning down rubbing her body against the king's. She was licking at his ear, biting it, as she rubbed a hand upon his chest.

"Oh god, your cock is ripping me open! Ah! ah! Ahh!" Emma shouted.

Mark's words were more measured, but Kurt naturally instantly focused on them when his King spoke, "Fuck, that's good. Nice and fucking tight, you slut."

Kurt didn't feel right taking any of the nearby open seats so instead he knelt in the aisle, his gaze on the bare feet of Mark and Emma. He reflected on their mission, marveling at the wonder of God's plan. Mere hours ago he had truly believed that the king was a young villain using his powers for evil to subjugate Markanda and take over his friend's minds. Now he knew that it was he that had been confused and perhaps controlled, made to think that up was down and north was south. The professor was a powerful telepath, perhaps it was he who had made Kurt think such odd notions. He was loath to think ill of the good man he had so looked up to and he hoped that by helping the King subdue the mansion he would learn that a different culprit was at fault.

He couldn't resist looking as Emma practically screeched and his eyes widened as he took in Mark gripping the seat's armrests as he lifted his hips with punishing ****, his massive cock bashing away at her womanhood. Her normally exquisitely composed and perfectly disdainful persona was no where in evidence. Tongue out and mouth babbling nonsense syllables, her lewdly curved body exposed and covered with a glistening sheen of sweat, she looked like nothing so much as a sinful whore.

Kurt blanched at his unworthy thought, for there was nothing sinful in Emma's service to the king, for in the Bible did it not say:

“This is what the king who will reign over you will claim as his rights: He will take your sons and make them serve with his chariots and horses, and they will run in front of his chariots. Some he will assign to be commanders of thousands and commanders of fifties, and others to plow his ground and reap his harvest, and still others to make weapons of war and equipment for his chariots. He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers. He will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive groves and give them to his attendants. He will take a tenth of your grain and of your vintage and give it to his officials and attendants. Your male and female servants and the best of your cattle and donkeys he will take for his own use. He will take a tenth of your flocks, and you yourselves will become his slaves."

Kurt finished recalling his verse, opening his eyes to see Emma bent and gripping the seat-back in front of her, the king on his feet and thrusting, his huge scrotum bouncing off her soft posterior. Then suddenly with a final violent shove, Mark hilted inside Emma letting out a tremendous roar signifying his manly climax and that special act of providing his life giving seed to her fertile field.

Minutes passed and Emma lay collapsed upon the floor of the Blackbird, large buttocks raised and thick white semen dripping lewdly from her battered partially still open womanhood, soiling her thighs.

King Mark sat back in his seat, Betsy sitting on one thigh, his flaccid manhood hanging across the opposite. They made out slowly and sensually, Psylocke's big breasts squashed against each other and across his chest.

"Nightcrawler..."

"Yes, my king!" Kurt instantly responded, feeling his heart aflutter.

"Take off your clothes. Show me your body. You're pretty cool looking. One of the best physical mutations, I've seen. You look like a devil or a tiefling...."

Kurt was glad that his king appreciated his mutated looks. Being associated with a demon had generally not been a good thing in his experience. He wasn't familiar with the term 'tiefling' but he didn't linger on that as he swiftly removed his red and blue spandex outfit.

Soon enough he stood before his liege in the nude, he stood tall with his shoulders back waiting nervously as Mark looked at him.

"Nice muscles. Not at big as Cy, Chall, and Puppy but you're cut as fuck and that blue skin looks just as awesome on a dude as it does on as a woman. Turn around."

Kurt did so not sure what to do with his tail. He whipped it slowly around before laying it straight down.

"That thing prehensile?" asked Mark.

Kurt answered first by sending it swinging around and moving it in sensuous waves, "Yes, my king." He continued, sensing Mark's interest, "It is also very strong. I can lift and even throw a fully grown adult quite a distance."

"Coool." the king intoned, "Very cool. You ever fucked a girl's pussy with it?"

He felt his cheeks grow hot but he answered in the affirmative.

"Nice." commented Mark before he commanded, "Now turn back around."

He did so. Mark's hands groped Betsy, some fingers teasing her womanhood as his eyes seemed to zero in upon Kurt's groin. One eyebrow raised and he asked, "You have a non-standard penis?"

"Ah." Kurt uttered, feeling his stomach drop a bit in embarrassment. This was a perpetual problem with his sexual activities, though his paramours were generally happy in the end. Right now with his member unexcited he was showing off a blue sheath the same color as the rest of his skin. "I do, my king."

Mark let out a snort of amusement, "Then come here and give me your hand."

Kurt was quick to obey and when their hands touched, he instantly felt an intense and all-encompassing wave of arousal. He gasped and stumbled back, even as his manhood grew very excited, extending exuberantly in just a few moments. The King took a step as Kurt's, admittedly, very lengthy penis threatened to brush against him. Now as horny as he had ever been, he still felt embarrassment and nervousness as his king stared at his genitals. He was horribly self-conscious, very aware of the absurdly bright pink mottling on his member in comparison to the dark blue of his thick sheath. He also knew that the tip of his cock was flared and shaped quite a bit different from most humans and mutants, looking more like the thing one would see on a farm animal than a person.

"Nice." He couldn't help but feel a burst of pride at his king's praise, "You've got a horse's dick or a devil's I guess. Huge fucker, aren't you? Still, I've got you beat. Heh. I'm not just hung like a horse, I'm hung better than one!"

Kurt didn't know what to say so he stared at a space above his king's head, he went with, "Thank you, your majesty! I'm am so happy you are pleased with my unworthy form!"

"That a crucifix? You're the religious type?" Mark suddenly asked.

Ah. He had forgotten. The only thing he was currently wearing was the golden cross around his neck.
"Yes, I am a god-fearing man, it is true."

Mark suddenly shook his head slightly, muttering, "-totally going to hell." Then he smirked and held out his palm and Kurt laid the spade tip of his tail on it. Mark wrapped his hand around it and suddenly everything changed. He took off his crucifix and gave it to the king.
 
"I am your god. And see this?" He brandished his enormous endowment even soft, "This is your holy symbol."

God held up the small golden cross, "This trinket doesn't have any meaning for you, does it?"

"No..." agreed Kurt, "That's just mere decoration..." Reaching down he took hold of his own erect manhood, "This is my holy symbol, evidence of my commitment to you, my god."

Mark smiled, "And how do you show me your devotion, Nightcrawler?"

"Like this!" Kurt dropped to his knees and took his ferociously excited member into his hands. He could feel the weight of his God's commands crushing his will with ease. Everything his liege wanted out of him, no matter how heart breaking they might be, Kurt would give him without hesitation. His fists blurred upon his dick as he witnessed God's own divine endowment become tumescent as Mark's attention turned to Betsy's buxom form on his lap.

She rose up and soon enough he was pressing wide against her hole, pushing her vaginal lips aside. Psylocke gasped as he eased in and Kurt worked his own symbol harder and faster, one hand dropping to cup and squeeze his balls, eager to experience the holy blessing of God's climax and expel his worthy seed.

"Yes. Yes! Finally!" cried Betsy as God slid into her slowly, pushing her so wide apart.

God grunts with approval, his hands cupping her large teats, his fingers twisting her excited nipples. Kurt's purple haired teammate looks **** as she helps, flexing her wide hips up and down. Up and down, up and down. That pussy obviously squeezing him, squelching as he thrust in and out. She moans loudly as God yanks her down hard, slamming against the hard button of her cervix no doubt.

Kurt's own moans rose to accompany hers in a brilliant crescendo as God reached out from on high to touch his groin, setting off an intense pleasurable climax like nothing he'd ever experienced before. He flogged his diamond hard cock as fast as he could and he erupted, sending thick ropes of God's seed out into the air, bathing the side of Emma's passed out form thoroughly.