Captive of the Brotherhood

The ride had been surprisingly smooth considering he’d been **** into a chair with an uncomfortably cold hunk of metal around his waist.

The female eye-candy had been a decent plus.

Despite how Natasha Romanoff, whom Mark later figured out was the famous Black Widow, had attempted to kill him, she made the trip much more bearable. It was hard to think about the worst failure of your life when you were sat across from an achingly beautiful redhead with big breasts that were only “hidden” from the outside world by a tight catsuit. The way her tits had jiggled and bounced with every hump of turbulence that hit the craft had been positively mesmerizing.

They’d been separated soon after they landed. He imagined his mutant captors dragging the human woman to a dark, grimy cell that hadn’t seen sunlight since the roof was sealed over it.

They put him in a first class luxury suite complete with amenities like a personal shower, a stocked fridge, and a booze rack. That had been about a day ago.

The Genosha-made red wine tasted smooth going down his throat. He’d heard that it was a product of some mutant with the honest-to-god power to control grapes.

What would you call that? Grape-o-kinesis?

He chuckled dryly. He really wanted to get drunk.

His captors certainly didn’t go out of their way to make him feel like a prisoner, even if that was exactly what he was. They’d placed a tall man named Sabertooth outside his door. The man had bared actual fangs at him and growled throatily when he tried to leave the room. Mark didn’t like him.

A large part of him wished Jean and Ororo were here. Another part of him wished he could find Natasha Romanoff and make her his **** as **** for trying to kill him.

His manhood twitched when he thought about that redhead and her perfect body. She’d make a great servant. He could imagine sending her on spy or **** missions and then fucking her brains out when she returned to him to report in.

Wouldn’t it be incredibly ironic if I used her to eliminate or enslave her employers?

The door to his suite opened and Mystique shimmied through.

Most of the people he’d met in Genosha seemed to be afraid of her. Mark wasn’t. He knew he should have been, considering mutants far more powerful than he gave her a wide berth. But there was something in her enigmatic yellow eyes that told him she wasn’t a threat to him. He couldn’t explain why.

“I like the outfit,” the woman said. She still wore that tribal outfit that showed off her delicious curves.

Mark looked down at his simple bathrobe. It was white and bore a symbol he vaguely recognized as an emblem on the national flag of Genosha, the country by mutants, for mutants.

He shrugged at her.

“I’ll take it off if you let me go,” he said.

Mystique actually chuckled at him. It was a rich sound that carried none of the malevolence she’d reserved for most of her dealings.

“Tempting, but I’m afraid there are things more important than the sight of your manhood,” she leaned forward slightly to give him an eyeful of her cleavage. “Magneto wants to see you now.”

He shrugged. “Eh, worth a shot,” he said far more confidently than he felt.

He stood.

As he approached Mystique, he felt the powered metal cufflinks around his hands snap together behind his back. They’d done that every time he approached another living person, using some form of bio-scanner to detect any form of humanoid life that wasn’t his own. Magneto didn't appear to be underestimating him or taking any chances with his ability.

“I really hate these things,” he said as he followed Mystique from the room.

“A necessary precaution, given your ability,” she said. “Magneto wanted you clothed head-to-toe in metal, but I convinced him that the cuffs were enough.”

That surprised him. “That was nice of you. Though I think you may have had another reason to keep me out of a suit of metal.”

She gave him a smoldering look and put an extra sway in her hips, emphasizing the curves of her juicy blue butt.

“I guess anything is possible,” she licked her lips and let out a breathy moan.

He nearly stumbled.

She laughed at him.

Fuck, this woman is dangerous.

“And here we are,” Mystique stopped in front of a pair of large metal doors. She turned to face him, her expression serious. “Don’t be nervous. Magneto respects strength, but he won’t suffer braggarts, cowards, or fools. Your best bet for surviving this encounter is to be completely honest with him.”

“Thanks, I guess,” he said. The woman nodded and moved to open the doors when he spoke again. “Would you tell me your name? Your real name. You’re really beautiful and I’d like to know it in case I don’t make it out of there.”

Her yellow eyes narrowed dangerously for a moment before they softened. She shook her head. “Before I took the name Mystique, my parents named me Raven.”

“Well it was nice to meet you, Raven,” he said softly. “Will you walk me back to my room after I’m done here? Sabertooth always looks like he wants to disembowel me.”

She gave him a long look.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she said. "And if you tell anyone my real name, I'll disembowel you."

She walked away without opening the doors.

He shivered.

The metal doors opened in front of him with a rumble, revealing a large conference room beyond. A large metal table sat in the center, hugged by nearly a dozen chairs. Glass windows framed a majestic picture beyond.

Mark saw a sandy beach bordered by an endless blue ocean. A bustling city hugged the coastline. The place was so full of life.

“Serene, isn’t it?” a deep masculine voice from behind him made him jump. He turned and beheld a man with slate white hair and pale blue eyes. He wore dark red armor and a purple cape that made him look regal in a way that Mark himself had never managed in his tenure as Wakanda’s king. “Genosha is a testament to what the world might look like had humanity tolerated our existence.”

“It’s beautiful,” Mark replied honestly. He felt tempted to say more. He wanted to demand answers from Magneto, to have explain why he had **** him so abruptly, but held his tongue.

The older man nodded at him, as if he had passed some form of test. He walked past Mark and stood at the far side of the conference table.

“Have a seat,” the chair closest to him moved outward from the table.

Mark obeyed.

The older man smiled. It was a thin, ghostly thing.

“I see you haven’t managed to find more appropriate attire. Mystique will be getting a talking-to.”

Mark shrugged. “I figured if you were going to kill me, I might as well be comfortable. There’s nothing I can do to stop you.”

“Quite,” the older man said. The seat at the head of the table pulled itself out on its own and Magneto sat down. “You don’t act your age.”

“Thanks,” Mark said. “I guess us mutants have to grow up fast if we want to survive.”

“You would think so, but my son Pietro continues to prove otherwise,” the man frowned. “Let me be very frank with you. Your abilities have the potential to save our species from certain destruction. I have brought you here because I am willing to give you a chance to earn my trust and to join your mutant brothers and sisters in our struggle against humanity.”

Well ain’t that a kick in the nuts.

Mark opened his mouth to respond, but Magneto silenced him with a wave of his hand.

“That very same ability will make it very difficult for you to earn my trust, and it has made you the target of at least one of the major human powers.”

The atmosphere in the room suddenly became a lot more oppressive. The lights above dimmed and the table began to shake. His chair wiggled, as if it were going to shift. Would Magneto use it to crush him?

Mark swallowed nervously.

“What happens if I fail to earn your trust?” Mark said.

“I think you already know the answer,” Magneto said.

Mark couldn’t help but imagine his body skewered by a dozen sharp metal objects.

“You’ll have limited access to the building. Impress me and we’ll see about introducing you to the splendor of Genosha at large.”

Mark’s chair moved backwards.

Taking the dismissal for what it was, Mark stood and walked to the door as fast as he could without making it seem like he was in a hurry to leave the presence of the most terrifying man he’d ever met.

When the metal doors closed behind him, Mark found Mystique waiting for him in the hallway.

“Oh, you’re still alive,” the blue-skinned woman said, affecting a surprised tone. She raised her eyebrows at him. “I was so sure Magneto would have you impaled on a metal spike by the time I got back.”

“Such faith,” Mark grimaced at the image. “Thanks for agreeing to walk me back, Raven.”

She shrugged.

“It was no issue. Sabertooth was all too happy to let me fill in for him. He doesn’t like you, by the way,” Mystique said.

“Really? I had no idea,” Mark said.

“He said he wanted to decapitate you and use your head as a football.”

Mark sighed. “I really, really didn’t need to know that, Raven.”

Mystique smirked at him and pushed her big breasts together with her arms, giving Mark an eyeful of her deep cleavage. He couldn’t help but imagine what those amazing tits would feel like with his head buried between them.

“Feel better?” she said, startling Mark from his trance.

He blinked stupidly.

“Uh… yeah, I guess I do. You should definitely do that more often,” he said.

"Maybe I will," she smirked at him teasingly before she walked off. The sway of her hips was so distracting that Mark followed her automatically.

They entered his room a few minutes later.

The carpeted lounge was a welcoming sight after the sheer horror Magneto had exposed him to. He walked to the center of the room and slumped into a long white couch that dominated the lounge. A large flat-screen television hung on the wall the couch faced, but it didn’t appear to be connected to any cable service.

They’re trying to keep me starved of information.

Mark caught Mystique opening the door as if to leave.

He cleared his throat nervously. She stopped. Her exotic yellow eyes glanced at him curiously.

“Could you stay with me for a while?” he asked. “I don’t want to be alone.”

He immediately regretted the words. The woman was a remorseless killer. She’d implied so when she’d first helped capture him. There was no chance in hell that she would-

“I guess I could,” Mystique closed the door and stepped into the room. Her generous breasts swayed from side to side as she approached him.

Mark raised his eyebrows.

“Really? Just like that?”

“Don’t let it go to your head," she stopped around ten feet from him. "Genosha is a really boring place full of whiny, uninteresting men."

“So that must mean you find me interesting,” Mark smirked. He shifted slightly to loosen the strings around his bathrobe. The front of it opened slightly. It was enough that his flaccid cock poked out of the white outfit.

Mystique glanced between his legs and licked her lips.

“In all my years I’ve never seen a cock that big,” she sighed. “There are so many things I could teach a young stud like you. It’s unfortunate that you’d brainwash me as soon as I touched you. Not that you’d live long enough to tell about it. Erik is very particular about mind controllers enthralling his subordinates.”

“The women of Wakanda seemed to like it,” Mark said. “Both the cock and the brainwashing. I was actually about to fuck the Black Panther’s wife again before your Brotherhood and Natasha Romanoff interrupted. Where is Natasha, by the way?”

Mystique grinned maliciously.

“Natasha’s being kept in a cell on the fifth subterranean level of this building.”

It’s surprising that she just told me where they’re keeping a high value prisoner. I guess it doesn’t matter since there’s no way I could actually do anything with that information.

“Huh, so she is here,” he said. “Damn, I really wish there was a way I could see her.”

Mystique’s form shifted. Blue skin was replaced with white and her white tribal outfit was replaced with a tight black catsuit. Raven’s short red hair grew longer until it reached past her shoulders. Her yellow eyes faded into green.

“How’s this?” Mystique-Natasha struck a heroic pose with her hands on her hips and her big tits thrust outward. “Natasha Romanoff reporting for duty, sir!”

“Not what I meant, but this is fine, too. Can I see her ass?”

The shapeshifter pouted. It was a funny look on the face of the woman who tried to kill him. She turned around, giving Mark a good view of her perfect bubble butt. The tight catsuit was wedged slightly up her asscrack. Mark wanted to stick his fingers between her buttcheeks.

She looked back at him. Her green eyes glimmered with mirth.

“Does this suit make my ass look big, sir?” she asked. Her voice was different, as if she were speaking in the tone of a different person. Was it Natasha Romanoff’s voice? He’d never heard the woman speak so he couldn’t say.

Mark’s manhood hardened. It parted the fabric of his bathrobe and stuck upwards into the air.

“I knew it,” she gave her ass a deliberate shake, causing her tightly-clothed globes to jiggle. “I’m sorry for having such a big, slutty ass, sir.” She bent forward, jutting her ass towards him. “Can you forgive me?”

More than anything Mark wished his hands were free so he could jerk off. As it was, Mystique’s teasing was pure ****. Judging from the smirk on her plump red lips, she knew it, too.

“Oh come on, this isn’t fair,” Mark groaned. He clenched his fists with frustration.

Mystique-Natasha turned to face him. She bit her lip again.

“This must be so hard for you. To go from being a pampered king with access to Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, and thousands of willing human sluts to not even being able to jerk that massive cock of yours,” she said.

“I hate it,” he ground out. His pale cock throbbed painfully. His balls brimmed and pulsed with his seed, **** for release.

“Oh come on, it’s not so bad,” Mystique said. She shifted back into her original form and knelt in front of him. The blue-skinned woman opened her mouth, swirling her wet tongue around for his viewing pleasure. "Magneto gave me carte blanche to do whatever I wanted with you, short of touching you that is.”

That’s not enough!

Mark wanted to grab Mystique by her hair and **** his cock into her mouth. He wanted to see her throat bulge as he fucked it. He wanted to make her swallow his seed before he began fucking her throat anew.

“I’m a woman with needs and the so-called men in this country have such small, pathetic dicks,” she moaned. “I mean, just look at that cock. You’re bigger than anyone on the island. So manly and strong…”

“Just suck my cock, Raven,” he muttered. His cock twitched.

“No, I can't,” she approached him on all fours. Her big breasts swayed pendulously as she moved. One of them broke free from of her tribal outfit. Mark stared at her dark blue nipple. Mystique's eyes widened and for the first time Mark thought he glimpsed a flicker of fear in them. “Why the hell am I doing this? I know I shouldn’t touch you, but my body won't listen to me!"

Her warm breath tickled his cock.

“Stop. Stay completely still and don't talk,” Mark said. Mystique’s mouth hovered mere inches away from his cock. A single thrust of his hips and he’d be in her mouth.

She’s really doing what I say, but why?

His mind flew back to the day before, when he’d been taken away from his newly-acquired kingdom.

“No fucking way. That was you?” he felt like chuckling. Mystique had been inserted among his Dora as a way to infiltrate the palace. She’d only compromised her disguise after she’d incapacitated Ororo, but before that there had been a Dora that had brushed past him. He’d accidentally given her an obedience command.

Mystique’s subtle acceptance of my requests. Her willingness to tell me her name and where Natasha Romanoff is imprisoned. It all makes sense now.

His heart hammered with excitement. A familiar feeling that had been absent for an entire day coursed once more within his veins.

“Slap yourself in the face.”

The blue-skinned woman obeyed. A red palm mark spread across her left cheek.

Mystique’s eyes were wide now. Rage pooled within those yellow orbs. She shuddered and her fists clenched open and closed.

“Repeat after me: Mark Williams is my master and I am his ****.”

“Mark Williams is my master and I am his ****,” Mystique said. She glared harder at him, but the flicker of fear he’d seen in her eyes grew more noticeable.

“Repeat after me: I am my master’s stupid blue whore and I need to suck my master’s cock.”

Mystique’s yellow eyes narrowed furiously as she obeyed.

“I am my master’s stupid blue whore and I need to suck my master’s cock.”

“Are there any cameras in my room? Any recording devices?” he asked.

“Cameras only,” Mystique admitted. “Magneto will kill you once he looks at the footage and finds out what you’ve done.”

“No he won’t,” Mark said. “You’re going to tamper with the cameras so they show you and I doing absolutely nothing unusual in my room. You’re proficient with security systems, right? You’d kinda have to be as an infiltrator.”

“I am,” she said. A worried look crossed her face.

“Good. Now let me tell you how things are going to be from now on, ****...”