Lack of Agency (1)

A/N: I did a lot of re-writes to the previous chapter before posting it, so if anything stands out to you as inconsistent in this one, please let me know. Feedback appreciated.

***

Ch 9 - Lack of Agency (1)

15:15 Friday

“I think it’s probably unnecessary at this point, but I want you to firmly root everything I’ve said to you in your minds. Incorporate the way you feel about me now into who you are. You are my slaves. My horny little fucksluts. But you are also my protectors, my most loyal advisors. Isn’t that right?”

“Mmmhmmm -” Jean agreed between noisy swallows and moans.

“And to be both, you can’t lose your old personalities entirely. You will be expected to act largely as before, at least outwardly - outside of our trysts - in order to ensure I don’t get any trouble from SHIELD, or anyone else who might take offense to our relationship.”

All of this seeped into them, as Natasha lovingly licked Jean’s eyelids clean, and then she did the same for Natasha. It did bring the real issues into clarity, as if some veil had been suddenly ripped away.

As soon as Jack had mentioned it, Natasha could see exactly how and why someone like their owner could get into trouble with SHIELD, even though he was merely giving them a gift. She shuddered in pleasure at the thought.

She was owned, finally, property to the only person who could ever tame her like this. The only man she would ever want to give herself to so completely.

It was beyond generosity.

“Mmmmh - M-master, it’s -” Jean blushed, shuddering as she realized what she’d said. She continued in a lower voice, husky but uncertain. “Sorry. Is it alright to call you that?”

He chuckled. “In private, between just the three of us, Jean. Of course.”

“Th-thank you. I, I was here to get… some space, you could say. I was in a relationship, back in New York. A man I thought I loved had proposed to me, but -” She flushed again, in embarrassment, “W-well, it was complicated. I see more clearly now. But Scott, and Logan…”

“Yeah, there’s another guy, too. Big claws. Nasty temper.” Natasha took over, chuckling. “Jean’s a popular girl. I think we both can see the appeal, Master.”

Saying the word sent a thrill of excitement up Nat’s spine.

“Yes.” Jean agreed, flushed at both Natasha’s compliment and their Master’s affirming nod. “You might know them as Cyclops and Wolverine, if you’ve ever seen news coverage of the X-MEN in action.”

Technically, unmasking a cape who didn’t live openly was a very serious criminal offense, even against villains - unless they were sentenced to life, or had a kill order put out on them. That policy was the only thing that kept a fragile balance, kept most villains from stepping too far out of line.

But Jack was their owner, so he owned all of the information they had, too.

“Thank you for telling me, Jean. That’s very good to know... And something we will have to deal with eventually.”

While she trusted him, and she knew that he would make the right decisions - the only decisions that mattered - Nat could see that their owner had perhaps not considered the full scope of ramifications for granting them enslavement.

And Natasha also knew that they could help, provided that she understood the mission parameters. Having felt up Jean’s perky breasts thoroughly, she brought a handful of Jack’s cum to her mouth and savored licking it up.

“Mmmh. Jean said something, Sir, about you having a power that could influence brains using sound waves. Is that correct?” She finished the sentence with a needy groan as Jean gave her breasts the same treatment.

“I haven’t had the opportunity to fully test it, but that lines up with my own understanding.” He confirmed. “There are other components though, and I would like your advice on how to best utilize it.”

He remained rock hard and ready to use them at a moment’s notice, even when discussing things so potentially grim. Existence, Natasha Romanoff decided, was bliss. She could feel a humming agreement in her head. She and Jean never paused in lovingly cleaning each other as he spoke.

“There is an aura around me, best estimate of effective range is 60 feet, which causes at the very least arousal. I suspect it is a natural pheromone that works on smell, because it works better and more rapidly in enclosed environments. I suspect it might also carry a component of attraction specifically to me, and perhaps even compliance - generally - with my actions unless they are too far outside the norm.”

“Uh-huh. That sounds right.” Jean agreed between indulgent licks of her palm. “You smell so damn good.”

He chuckled. “Thank you. Beyond that, the connection from my voice - likely through sound waves - is often sufficient to steer a person through building a construct of suggestions toward a particular change I would like to make in their personality. But just my voice, especially in small doses, can run into contrary reactions if a subject’s resistance to the change is too vehement, if it goes too strongly against their values. And I suspect it might wear off with time, though I don’t have sufficient data.”

Natasha still listened raptly, but she smiled mischievously at Jean and then dipped her head down into the telepath’s cleavage to suck and lick the older redhead’s chest clean of any remnants.

Jean moaned, her hands lacing through Natasha’s hair as she nodded her understanding.

“The connection, correlating directly with the power of each individual suggestion, can be strengthened with physical skin-to-skin contact, eye contact and finally -” He chuckled softly, gesturing at them, “- my cum. Swallowing seems to work best, but also ah, administered vaginally. It’s less effective, but even skin contact works given sufficient time. I suspect through anal as well, though I’ve yet to try.”

Natasha could see why. Not just any woman would be able to handle a cock like that. But now that she was imagining it… She couldn’t help arching her back, sticking out her round ass for their Master to consider.

Even if it wrecked her, it would be so worth it.

“It remains potent for at least 24 hours after ejaculation, with only a minor reduction in efficiency. Nearly fresh, it would seem to be roughly five minutes of deep connection per teaspoon of cum. I haven’t seen any appreciable degradation of the heightened suggestions’ effectiveness over time, like I've done with the weaker ones, but it’s just too early to tell.”

Natasha smiled as she withdrew from Jean’s cleavage, eagerly thrusting her chest out to let the other woman return the favor.

“Oh, yes, that’s what was in the spray bottle.” She shuddered in remembrance. “I should have realized as soon as I tasted it again. But it’s even better straight from your cock, Sir.” She licked her lips seductively, staring up at him through hooded eyes.

Then moaned in pleasant surprise when Jean latched on to her nipple and gave her breast a firm squeeze. Don’t distract Jack unnecessarily when we’re talking business, Nat.

Mmmmhmmm. You’re right. But this is not an effective punishment.

It wasn’t meant as punishment. That’s for our owner to decide.

Natasha bit her lip, nodding.

“Yeah, about that. It’s pretty strange that you couldn’t seem to connect the dots until I told you, right? So… There’s more.” The both paused for a moment to stare up at him, Jean’s mouth leaving Natasha’s breasts.

“More?”

He laughed. “Yes. I’m an odd case, then?”

“Very much so.” Jean spoke first. “We know you also have at least some Brute powers. Physical durability and strength enhancements, that is. It’s unusual to see a skillset that stretches over so many niches. Most mutants have one or two. The most common two together would be Brute and Mover, the classic Alexandria package of durability, strength and flight.”

“Well, I was in a car crash slash chemical accident. Not sure that I even qualify as a mutant.”

Natasha shook her head. “It’s - We think you do. I’m sorry for not telling you earlier, Sir, but that chemical wasn’t just anything. It was an unfinished experimental formula attempting to re-create and improve upon remnants of the Captain America program. The driver of the truck was a terrorist, one of a few who managed to escape SHIELDs perimeter when we struck at their base of operations here. As far as we know, he was attempting to escape the state and rejoin with another cell of their organization.”

She paused, debating how to phrase it, and whether to say it at all. “I - know that your friend died in the crash, Sir. And I am sorry for your pain. But your crash might have saved more lives than you could imagine. Empire Eighty-Eight and their offshoots have an agenda of unadulterated white supremacy and genocide. The crashed vehicle gave us some hints at another cell in New Mexico.”

“And it gave us you.” Jean added softly, “But I’m sorry for your loss, too.”

For a moment, their owner’s implacable mask of calm confidence faltered as he looked down at them, and they could both see uncertainty there. Some pain shone through the cracks in the façade. But almost immediately, it was gone.

Jack just nodded his understanding, calmly.

“Well, Mason would have liked to know that he went out saving people, however unintentionally. It’s a good way to go, I guess…” He muttered.

Natasha continued when he prompted her. “SHIELD lab analysis tells us that the formula wasn’t ready. It would have likely killed 98% of test subjects, or more, and would be far from guaranteed to produce any desirable results even in those who survived. There were... Human remains found.”

“We believe that the formula would have killed almost anyone else who happened to be in that accident, even without your injuries. The leading theory is that you had a very specific recessive M-gene, which allowed you to survive and - now knowing more of the facts - perhaps even enhanced your abilities beyond just turning the gene dominant.”

He nodded again, considering it. “From what you’ve said, that sounds like a reasonable conclusion. I’d like to have a look at the reports if possible. Maybe we can even get some actual lab tests done, without SHIELD getting the data.”

He shrugged. “Let’s take this discussion to the bedroom.”

As Natasha stood shakily to follow him, she chuckled to herself. She had barely even noticed that she was having the conversation submissively on her knees. It was such a casual, natural thing. Jean gave her a smile that told her she understood without any need for telepathy.

“Right, then.” Jack sat cross-legged against the wall, and Natasha pouted slightly on noticing that he’d tucked his cock away. “The other things.”

Later. Jean chided her.

Mmh, that was a good thought.

“Jean technically already knows this, but I seem to have some field preventing anyone from intentionally trying to inflict harm on me. No data on range, or whether this might somehow be broken, for example if I initiate conflict, or how indirect or unintentional damage might be possible. One encounter I had suggests that perhaps people do not even always realize it is happening. A brute super tried to squeeze my hand as a show of strength the other day, not knowing my own skill set. I didn’t even notice, and the individual in question thought I was just sturdy enough to ignore it. Maybe I am. Or the field just prevented intentional harm.”

“That is why I faked the bloodwork.” Jean added, getting a satisfied nod from Natasha, having that confirmed. “There wasn’t any blood to test. Jack can overcome his own field, but his skin is too tough for regular needles.”

“I can lift nearly 8 tons. Probably a lot more, but I haven’t tried anything heavier.” Jack added absently. “Haven’t really tested my durability, for obvious reasons. But I can have sex seemingly endlessly, and I haven’t slept more than 5-6 hours in a night since the hospital. Always end up waking up refreshed. Ah, and I’m still gaining muscle mass. Seems almost entirely unrelated to the amount of calories I take in. Really hoping that stops at some point.”

Natasha gaped at him. That was… A lot. It was so far beyond Brute 3 classification already. Steve Rogers was classified as Brute 5, and he couldn’t hold a candle to that. Running a quick calculation, she responded, “Probable lower bound of Brute 6. Likely much higher.”

“I ran a marathon in under 90 minutes without breaking a sweat.”

Natasha chuckled, “A bit less impressive. About 80 percent of Brutes could match it, most of them with little effort. And many others could do a lot better.”

“Well, I wasn’t trying. That should count for something.” Jack defended, though with a relaxed smile.

Jean shook her head, amused. They’d both fallen into cross-legged positions on the bed too, near but opposite him. Touching distance.

“Well, that only leaves two things, I think.” Jack pointed at his head, lips twitching with a suppressed smile. “One is that I have this security blanket in my head. It’s like a presence of calm and calculation over my mind, that’s what it feels like, at least. Sometimes I can feel myself panicking underneath, but the calm lets me choose what I think is the best way to approach something. My learning has been a lot quicker, and general reading too. I notice much more, a lot more detail.”

He gestured at Natasha, grinning wryly. “I knew you weren’t a nurse as soon as I woke up in the hospital. And knew your name wasn’t Roberts as soon as you said it.” That stung her professional pride a little. But Natasha knew she was good, so that meant her owner was simply better. “And that you were named Grey, but weren’t quite a doctor.”

“Well, I - I’ve done a lot of lab work. And first aid.” Jean mimicked his earlier protest, chuckling. “Should count for something.”

Natasha shook her head, bemused. “Okay. Okay. That’s a Thinker power, no doubt. Like Tony Stark, but more general instead of tech focused. Magnitude is always tough with Thinkers, but definitely above Thinker 2. What’s the final thing?”

She could hardly believe there was still more.

“Well. This might actually be the big one. In the hospital was where I first noticed it, and I’ve generally been pretty careful not to challenge this perception, so it’s not been thoroughly tried. But believe me, both of you two dismissed me as a potential threat, way too quickly. It’s like people are unable to see me as dangerous unless I do something to directly challenge that perception… Perhaps not even then, I’m not completely sure. I believe that’s what has allowed my voice suggestions to work so well - if people noticed something wrong early and ran - or, say, stopped listening through their headset.” Natasha chuckled at that, “It’d be a lot harder to influence anyone.”

“Huh. Well…” Nat said, trying to wrap her mind around something that, quite literally, wasn’t meant to be understood. “I mean, that’s a Stranger type power, for sure - if what you say is true. So is the inability to deliberately inflict damage on you, most likely. It’s… I’d put each of them at around a 5 on the scale, individually, assuming people can still snap out of it and understand you as a threat. And the high likelihood that there’s a workaround to the other field.”

“Perhaps a 7 together,” Jean agreed, “Or higher. I - we’re not good judges for this. I know you’ve changed my mind,” And Natasha nodded along with that statement, “But I can’t find anything wrong with it. First of all, we are your property, to do with as you please. And… Well, you deserve to have anything you want, Sir.”

Jack drummed his fingers against his leg a few times, thinking. “I wasn’t actually sure you were able to understand that, until recently. When did you realize?”

“Oh, in the café. Listening through Natasha. But I already liked you then, wanted to help, and… Your voice. I didn’t want to stop listening.”

“For me, it clicked when I heard Jean mention how your power worked on me. I just thought you were right about everything before that. I, well, I always conceded to myself that you were at least partially correct, even when I think I was passively resisting the suggestions. But it didn’t feel like resisting when it happened, just… Like you were... Maybe exaggerating the truth?”

“Okay. That’s very good information.” Jack said, “Having it directly confirmed then, or observing it from a third party perspective. But neither of you felt threatened?”

“No,” Only Natasha answered verbally, but they each shook their heads. “Or perhaps briefly, after you first said my name. But after that… I was probably too hooked on the suggestions after that point. Or I literally just wasn’t able to see it as a threat.”

“Can you sense the people in the apartment building over that way, Jean? Feel their minds? Search them?” Jack questioned, pondering.

“Yes,” The telepath nodded, “I could probably stretch a few buildings further without much strain.”

“Alright. I want you to - actually, let’s save that for later. First, can you go through the people in this apartment building, starting on this floor and moving down.” Jack asked, getting a nod in return. “I want you to tell me their names, and whether you think they’ve been influenced by my suggestions, one by one.”

Jean furrowed her brow, searching. She rattled off a number of names who Jack knew he had influenced, at least lightly, but the telepath couldn’t seem to tell. It was a long string of negatives, both true and false. The real confirmation, in Jack’s mind, was “Lydia Jimenez… No, I - I don’t think so. Am I doing this right?”

“You’re doing great. But now, I want you to look at Natasha’s mind, as objectively as you possibly can. Could you tell that she has been influenced by me?”

Jean frowned again, closing her eyes. “I - I don’t… I know it’s there, obviously. I pretty much watched it happen, and felt it happening to me at the same time. But - there’s - there’s really no telltale markers.”

“Couldn’t you just look at behavior? Get a baseline of their day-to-day and compare it to recent experiences.” Jack questioned.

“I did do that, Jack. But the experiences don’t really feel different, even if, I suppose, they obviously are. It just slips beneath notice. You asked me to try and be objective.”

“That’s… A highly covert Master ability, if not even Jean can sense it properly.” Natasha added. “Likely influenced by the accompanying Stranger abilities.”

“I can’t be sure of course,” Jean hedged, “It’s --- there’s a lot going on here.”

“Let’s try it this way. Could you identify all of the people I’ve had sex with in this building?”

That, Jean could do easily.

“Very strange.” Jack muttered. “And that doesn’t feel like a tell to you? The way they think about me?”

Jean shook her head, a little frustrated. “It just slips by during a scan, like there’s nothing unusual about it. Even looking at those memories, I have a hard time saying I can sense any shift in them.”

“I guess that’s plus one in the sound waves theory column.” Jack said, “Or wait, is it? Because you were affected via Natasha’s mind.”

“Technically, I was still being hit by the waves, because I was right next to you. You’d just suggested I shouldn’t listen, and I was able to get around that by listening through Nat.”

“That… Does sort of make sense.” He agreed, “Could you remove my suggestions from someone? Say Teresa, downstairs. Try to make her not want to fuck me.”

After a few minutes of pondering, looking like she was concentrating, Jean shook her head.

“I don’t think so.” She admitted, “I could probably take direct control and puppeteer her, or change other things, memories, but not that. When I try to push against those desires, nothing seems to change.”

“Now that… That bodes very well.”

***

15:30 Friday

“Well then. Let’s do a little morality quiz.”

Natasha raised her eyebrows questioningly. “Why?”

“I want to be able to tell where you stand,” I explained, “Both in general and in regards to me.”

Natasha smiled slightly. “With you, of course.”

“Me too.”

I chuckled, but waved them off. “You’re cute, but I think there’s still some things to learn here. I want you both to be as honest as possible with me, okay?”

They nodded agreeably.

“On a scale from 1 to 10, how morally wrong is ****?”

Natasha shrugged, “Just ****? A six.” There were plenty of worse things.

“Seven,” Jean answered after a moment’s pause.

“What if I were to kidnap someone? How morally wrong would that be on the same scale?”

“You’d have a good reason.” Nat responded, almost immediately, and Jean nodded along firmly.

“So not at all?”

“No, because you wouldn’t do it if it were the wrong thing to do.”

“What if I were to kidnap Mrs Jimenez over there, just to keep her as my sex toy? Tied up here in bed.” Both girls flushed at the visual.

Nat responded with an immediate grin, despite not being asked, “I’d volunteer for that position.”

“That wasn’t the question.” I reprimanded, but I was rapidly coming to appreciate these two gorgeous ladies, beyond just their bodies.

Jean responded more thoughtfully. “I - Well, she would enjoy it. She loved the way you fucked her in the hall yesterday, just took her like a brute.” She shivered in sympathetic pleasure, “I really hope you plan to fuck us before we leave, Sir. I couldn’t bear to go without it, and I know Nat feels the same way.”

That got enthusiastic nodding.

“You are changing the subject.” I laughed, “Answer, please. How morally wrong would it be?”

“Not at all.” Jean relented. There seemed to be some discomfort, but when it came down to it, loyalty to me was now central in her mind.

“Why?”

“If you feel that you need another sex ****, then you do.” She shrugged, “And she wants it.”

I shook my head, but fuck if that didn’t make me hard.

It might be difficult to keep any moral boundaries at all if everyone turned into an enabler like this. “What if I kidnapped a celebrity then? Or a stranger? Someone who doesn’t know me and has no reason to want me.”

“There’s every reason to want you, Master.” Natasha replied saucily. “And you’d make them want it, regardless. There’s no moral dilemma. Just two people having hot sex.”

Not… Strictly true, as my own moral ponderings lately had touched on. But I didn’t correct her.

“Not how I’d phrase it,” Jean said, looking flushed. “But yes.”

We went through the same discussion about ****, and I found their faith in me almost utterly unshakable. It was exhilarating, and slightly terrifying, at the same time.

“Alright then… A test, perhaps? Jean, find the hottest girl with the biggest tits in that apartment block.” I hooked a thumb over my shoulder. “And bring her here. I’m going to make her my fucktoy.”

“But you should be fucking me.” Nat whined, and bit her lip when she saw the bulge in my pants throb in response.

After a moment of consideration, Jean just shrugged, closing her eyes. “Yes, sir.”

I smiled. God damn.

“Pants off, Natasha. Face down, ass in the air, and knees together.”

***

“Oh thank god!” Natasha Romanoff groaned, feeling her sex - which had simmered down to a resting state at just “very wet” - instantly gushing again. Oh fuck, she needed this. She needed it so badly.

Natasha hurried to obey, standing up by the bed and turning her back to him, smiling over her shoulder and presenting her honed bubble butt and milky thighs as she slowly peeled the wet shorts down. Showing her owner just how ready she was for him.

The intensity in his eyes sent another wave of arousal through her body. She almost came when he nodded approvingly. Jack slid off the bed himself, and Natasha quickly climbed onto her knees and arched her back, her face resting against the covers, presenting her womanhood to him as instructed.

“Please fuck your slaveslut, Sir. I need it.” She mewled, flushed with arousal as she peeked back at him in her periphery. Jack eyed her appreciatively for a moment. She was perhaps the most objectively attractive woman he’d ever bedded, her body honed and limbered by countless hours of exercise and training, but maintaining an alluring balance between that toned strength and her soft femininity and curves.

He spanked her. Just once, right across the labia, “oooohfuckohfuckohfuck -”

Natasha came. Shuddering, gasping. By the time she’d recovered her senses, her owner had unleashed his huge cock and was pressing it against her entrance.

“Yeeeeeeeesss - OH FUCK - nnnnNNNgggh -” She screamed. He was taking her, finally. Forcing his way slowly inside of her. It was mostly pleasure, but not all. Oh god, it was so much. He was so big. But Natasha had never needed anything more than him fully inside of her, using her like she was meant to be used. “- nnnnNNnggh, th-thank y-you, Siiiir - thankyouthankyouthankyouuuuu -”

Jack grunted in satisfaction when he finally pressed up against the entrance of her womb. Natasha’s internal muscles were constricting and undulating around his length, milking him for all they were worth, more so than he’d felt even with his sister. Her body shuddered again, back arching and head rising in an involuntary cry of pleasure, “Oooh fuuuuck - c-cummiiiing - !”

Jack had grown more confident in how roughly he could treat someone, without hurting them. And so, he set a grueling pace, grabbing a firm hold on the squirming agent’s hips, feeling every contour of her tight cunt as he pulled his cock out of its eager embrace and shoved back inside of her, stuffing Natasha full again.

“- f-fuuuuuuck -”

“S-she’ll be here in five minutes, Sir.” Jean spoke breathily, her face flushed as she watched him claim her sister-****.

“Have her wait in the living room.” Jack’s voice was a husky growl, but he didn’t sound strained, not at all. To Jean, he just exuded an intoxicating sense of dominance as his pounded into Natasha’s usually so strong body, reducing her to nothing but a quivering, moaning hole for his pleasure.

“- hnng - y-yes - u-use y-your slut - m-master - f-fuck -” Nat was muttering near-incoherently as Jack grabbed her dark red hair and pulled her up, off the bed. Jean watched the utter but everchanging expression of bliss on her colleague's face, the glazed over look in Natasha's eyes, and shuddered. Felt her own body tighten in a sudden climax as their minds briefly touched.

“Oh, Gooood - mmmnnngh -,” Jean’s thighs clenched around her wandering hand, hips bucking uncontrollably, biting her lip to hold back the cry of ecstasy.

The agent’s large, round D-cup breasts swayed and wobbled with each lewd twack of their Master’s pelvis against her jiggling rear, her small pink nipples looking hard enough to cut glass.

“You should play with your sister slut while I use her, Jean.” Jack said, palming one large breast and squeezing it appreciatively without relenting in his pace. “Why don’t you come give Nat a kiss?”

Already shuddering in sympathetic pleasure at the casual display of his ownership, Jean nodded obediently, crawling over to capture Natasha’s mewling mouth with searing passion of her own. Even nearly insensate, she responded just as eagerly.

With one hand, she cupped Nat’s face tenderly, while the other trailed over her unoccupied breast, pinching her nipple just right. The combination became too much for the poor agent. Natasha’s entire body bucked in pleasure between them, pulling her away from Jean’s mouth with a gasp. “- ohfuckohfuckohfuck - nnnnnnNNngh - !”

Natasha felt herself barely clinging to consciousness, even as Jean re-captured her mouth and her owner continued manhandling her supple, helpless body, keeping her constantly right on the edge of heaven. She couldn’t tell how long it lasted after that, but she orgasmed again and again, her poor little pussy milking his cock desperately. She clutched at Jean’s shoulders while their owner’s thick member pounded into her mercilessly, using her like the toy she was.

Finally, Jack grunted in his own release, slamming into her hard enough to nearly topple her and Jean over. Inside his mind, an almost conquering roar spurred him on.

“You’re mine, you eager little fuckslut.” As he grunted, Nat felt his huge cock pulse inside of her. Her entire body spasmed, and Natasha’s mouth opened in a soundless scream of pleasure. She could feel her pussy contracting wildly with each rope of cum filling her up, squirting with arousal as her Master’s pelvis ground against her plush ass.

Jean held her, stroking her sweat-matted hair tenderly, biting her lip.

God, I hope he takes me next.

Natasha’s blissful face was pressed into her shoulder, nodding slightly.

Jean deserved to feel as completely fulfilled as she did.

Then Jack pulled out of her, and his cock slammed into her cervix again, sending a final burst of thick seed into her womb.

“Oh fuuuuuuuck -” She gasped. Then she went limp.

Natasha blacked out, twitching, feeling like everything was right in the world.

***