Reed's mental prison

Reed Richards gasped as he tried to wade through the miasma of his own thoughts. His mind felt like a penitentiary, his own thoughts and emotions forming the bars of his mental cell. Time was difficult to measure. It might have been minutes, hours, or perhaps days since the boy had ensnared him. He had no way of keeping track. His thoughts had been wrapped around themselves to sew confusion, doubt, and compliance. A work of the enslaved Jean Grey, no doubt. His heart broke for her, Ororo, and Scott Summers. They had been extraordinary people. They deserved more than to be enslav- come to think of it, they were lucky Mark had deigned to turn them into his servants. Why had he been thinking otherwise before?

Reed shook his head as he walked, trying to clear his mind of the foreign impulses and thoughts that squirmed through his mind like worms. His was a constant battle against the… boy who had put him here. The boy who had stolen his wife and corrupted leading members of the X-Men. The boy who lounged on the most opulent, comfortable chair Reed could acquire on such short notice.

The recreational lounge had been a mere afterthought when he’d designed the Baxter Building, but it had quickly become a place for the team to unwind. After he and Sue had gotten married, it became a favorite room of Franklin and Valeria. Various seats and couches and footrests adorned the carpeted room. A large state-of-the-art flat-screen television had been built into the wall. Reed could make out the grunts and groans of the female beach volleyball players on the screen as they competed. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised that Mark had chosen this program.

Mark’s servants were draped over him like decorations, each gazing warmly at their lord and master and brightening noticeably whenever he glanced in their direction. Jean, Ororo, and Sue were taking turns feeding him grapes from a floating metal tray. Jean and Sue were sat on Scott Summers and Johnny respectively while Ororo stood behind him. Both men were stock-still on their hands and knees and naked from head-to-toe. Their hard cocks dangled beneath them, twitching as they no doubt imagined what their Lord looked like being serviced by the women they loved.

Jean wore a blue sling bikini one-piece that barely covered the nipples of her huge breasts, which threatened to break free as they wobbled, and they did so whenever she reached for a grape to place in her hungry master’s mouth.

Reed’s eyes widened when Sue, clad in nothing but the green outline of a bra that displayed her hard pink nipples for all to see, cooed as she plucked a grape from the tray and held it for Mark to snatch in his mouth.

“That’s a good mommy,” the teenager purred and began to chew. Sue blushed and reached for another grape.

Reed’s teeth ground together. He wanted to walk up to that brat and attac- tell his liege about his progress. Yes, that was it. He shook his head.

“My Lord, the anti-telepathy headgear is progressing with very few difficulties. When complete, it will prevent even the most powerful psychics from accessing your mind when active, while still allowing you and Ms. Grey to maintain your mental link as they are attuned to her unique mental signature. I should have workable prototypes ready for use within the month,” he said proudly.

“Excellent work, Reed. You’ve done a ‘fantastic’ job.” Mark smirked and Reed was sorely tempted to roll his eyes at the pun. What was it that made supervillains possess such a horrid sense of humor? Admittedly, he would never call himself the most humorous man who walked the Earth, but this was ridiculous. “Have you made any progress with your other research?”

“Not as much as I’d like,” Reed frowned, his disappointment genuine. Intellectually, he knew that the feeling had been manipulated by either Jean or Mark himself, but he could not help but feel frustrated when the answers to his questions eluded him. “Your ability seems to use the human body’s nervous pathways to ferry subliminal messages directly into a person’s brain, physically overriding their mental processes. It explains why you were unable to affect Ben directly; his rocky exterior forming a natural barrier to any sort of electrical current. That isn’t the whole of it, however. There’s a psionic aspect to your power whose nature and function I haven’t been able to pinpoint yet. You’re not telepathic; that much is certain, though I’ve no doubt that you would eventually have been able to influence Ben had you been in contact with him for a sufficient amount of time. There is something special about you, apart from the fact that you’re my Lord and I’m to obey you in all things, of course.”

“Psionic,” the boy chewed the word uncertainly, as if the word tasted foreign on his tongue. He reached a hand to idly group one of Ororo’s breasts that dangled tantalizingly above him, eliciting a delighted moan from the enthralled woman. He shook his head. “At this point, nothing surprises me anymore. Is there anything you can do to further your understanding about what makes my ability work the way it does?”

Reed furrowed his brows in thought. It was probably a highly unadvis- advisable idea to find out exactly how his Lord’s abilities worked so that he might understand its limitations and engineer ways to surpass them. His cock hardened at the thought of more women joining his beloved in endless slavery to his liege.

“Every experiment needs a control group, so if you could bring me a human that has never been affected by your abilities, I might be able to find out more about how your tactile subliminal messaging works by studying the changes you make to a person in real time and comparing it with my observations of the human baseline.”

“An ordinary human should not be difficult to procure,” Jean said, her bright green eyes gleaming with anticipation. “I could have hundreds of them in the building in a matter of minutes.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” Mark said. He reached hand to stroke Jean’s cheek. The redhead closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. “But as you’ve said before, there are a lot of eyes on New York City. I think we should start by targeting a single individual.”

“You’re absolutely right, Mark. We’ve been lucky so far with the Fantastic Four and Black Cat, but we really should avoid disturbing the waters around here, so to speak. It wouldn’t do to make SHIELD or any of New York's myriad superheroes aware of yet another mind-controller running rampage throughout the city. People are still spooked after the Purple Man incident,” Scott said, still serving as a living chair allowing his wife to serve their mutual master.

“Indeed,” Ororo said, intentionally wiggling her big dark breasts for her master’s viewing pleasure. “Felicia still hasn’t returned from her mission to install Reed's nanocameras in the Kingpin's lair. Perhaps it would be wise to ask to her to supply us with a target; someone who wouldn’t be missed-”

“Or someone who might help further my favorite son’s sexy plans,” Sue interrupted, squealing like a teenage girl when she saw Mark’s massive cock twitch in response.

“Hm. All this talk about planning is making me horny. Why don’t you sit on my cock, Mommy?” Mark met his gaze and smirked.

Reed felt his manhood harden as his wife celebrated her newfound luck and swung her leg over her master’s lap. She reached between her legs for Mark’s cock and quickly began to work it into her pussy.

Reed could only watch in equal parts horror and arousal as the love of his life submitted completely to a man barely into adulthood. Jean and Ororo took turns making out with Mark as Sue fucked herself up and down his cock, causing lewd squelching sounds to fill the room.