A Day in the Life of Mark Williams [pt. IV]

The next part of Mark's day was devoted to physical training.

He strolled through the lush tropical gardens that adorned the palace grounds, his entourage in tow. The vibrant flora and fauna provided a stark contrast to the imposing golden monumental architecture that comprised the bulk of the Palace grounds. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of exotic flowers, and the distant murmur of a cascading waterfall added a soothing backdrop to the scene.

He had his golden bracers with their shield generators and his Dora, not to mention the full battalion of Royal Guard who would happily die to protect him, but given the massive target he'd erected upon his own back by conquering Wakanda and establishing Markanda, as well as enslaving so many prominent superheroes, his advisors thought it prudent for him to keep up some degree of physical conditioning and combat training.

In all actuality, he was an indolent prick who didn't deserve to be King of anything, let alone Wakanda, but life wasn't the least bit fair and he'd long accepted that. So he listened to his advisors, well aware that his markedly not particularly intelligent ass lived on the knife edge of disaster.

The training ground, a vast expanse of well-tended dirt surrounded by lush vegetation, lay ahead. As he approached, the towering black panther statue on one side seemed to cast a shadow over the area, a symbolic reminder of the legacy he now ruled and the responsibility that came with it.

Mark's dark robe swayed with his every step, the regal adornments clinking softly. His royal dick hung low and free, slapping gently against his thighs. The Dora Milaje, fierce, disciplined, and nude, flanked him, their eyes watchful for any potential threat. This was essentially the heart of Mark's empire, a veritable fortress protected by some of the greatest fighters on Earth. And yet his Nakia had been sniped and almost killed by that never to be sufficiently damned Black Widow right here not two weeks ago, so their vigilance was understandable.

As he passed into the cleared area of the training ground, he took note of the ridiculous number of people present. Servant girls, scantily clad and ready to attend to his desires, lined the periphery. There were also high status members of each tribe—River, Border, Merchant, and Mining—present, each vying to curry favor. Everywhere he went he was surrounded by a throng of individuals eager to please, their actions dictated by a **** desire to earn his approval or avoid his ire.

His training mostly consisted of hand-to-hand sparring, supervised and overseen by Okoye herself. Mark wasn't a hard worker as a rule but the fact that he could take short breaks to bang one out in one of the cute servant girls, the attractive tribal scions, or even his Dora made his training infinitely more enjoyable.

It also didn't hurt that he was a cheating cheater who cheated.

Mark had Jean implant a craving for combat training and make it so that he actually enjoyed working hard at it. For that hour, it was like a switch has been flipped in his brain and suddenly he felt a deep drive to improve his combat skills and test his body's limits. He became essentially a fight-maniac during that time, eager to trade blows and push through every pain and fatigue his body experienced.

And with a little help from Xavier's big brain, the techniques and reactions were being ingrained instantly and completely into his muscle memory. He didn't anticipate defeating world-class fighters anytime soon (probably not even moderately competent ones), but he was getting faster, stronger, and far, far more skilled with seemingly every session.

In the next hour, Mark would delve into weight training as he aspired to sculpt a body that would command both fear and desire as he ventured into the realm of a true mutant supervillain. Despite his initial lack of muscularity, he was determined to bridge the gap, utilizing Shuri's tech and the vast resources of Markanda to hopefully transform his physique within a year or two.

With Xavier as a compliant psychic engine, Mark sidestepped the mundane repetition of physical exercise. Previously, he had swapped minds with either Scott or Chall, allowing one of these brawny tools to endure the tedious repetitions while he luxuriated in their bodies, relaxing and enjoying the experience. However, the only problem with that was both men were hung like pygmies and it was a disturbing sensation to be without the familiar weights between his legs, like missing an arm or a leg.

Mark's satisfaction had soared with the inclusion of Wolverine into his stable of converted minions. As the first male to at least have a thick thigh-slapper soft and even a respectable set of proper truck-nuts, the gruff Canadian was a perfect switch partner.

He could actually fuck while driving Wolverine's body. He felt like way too much of a cuck trying anything with Scott and Chall's pencil-dicks.

As Mark leisurely strolled toward the palace's expansive and technologically advanced gym, he turned to Okoye with a mischievous glint in his eye. With a playful tug at her nipple, he remarked, "I'm tagging out. Have Wolvie pump some iron for me, Okoye."

Her lips curved into a sly smile. "Of course, my king. The Wolverine will feel the burn. I'll make sure to enjoy every moment, just as I enjoy other activities that make your body sweat."

He could feel the desire radiating off her mind in waves as her brown eyes gazed upon his face. Mark knew the Dora were completely devoted to his well-being and safety, but even without Xavier's powers, he could tell that Okoye wanted him for herself.

Before transferring minds with Wolverine, Mark took the time to pull his voluptuous bodyguard into a passionate kiss and give her thick booty a good grope with both hands. His fingers sank deep into Okoye's juicy ass and she shuddered at his touch. Mark smirked when the beautiful warrior woman let out a loud, wanton moan.

Mark initiated the mind swap then, ensuring Wolverine would relish those initial moments before succumbing to Okoye's irresistible commands.

Logan was abruptly kissing someone. Full plush lips, heavy tits squashed against his chest, thick ass in his grasp… he didn't know how he got here. One moment he'd been sitting his ass on a couch doing his best to drink himself into a stupor and the next thing he knew his lips were occupied.

He wasn't gonna question it. Logan pulled the woman closer to him and devoured her lips, his tongue invading her mouth and exploring it. Her body shuddered with pleasure as she submitted. She tasted delicious and he found himself grinding against her. He was mostly naked, actually a bit more clothed than he had been. He could feel her warm smooth navel against his dangling cock.

"Ughn," the woman moaned into his mouth and he bit her lips playfully. Logan didn't know why he felt so randy, so horny, but he sure as shit wasn't gonna complain.

Suddenly he was pushed back to find one of Mark's naked bald bodyguard women giving him an imperious glare, vibranium spear in hand. He didn't know what the hell was going on here. He was on a fancy path lined with jungle plants, more naked ladies all around and-

What the hell-

Looking down he saw a damned bird-chest with barely any fuzz on it.

Logan growled, "What the hell is-"

The woman's voice cut through Logan's confusion as she tersely explained, "You're in the body of our King. You're task is to help build the muscles of his body, Wolverine."

"It is your privilege and honor to help sculpt this fine vessel of our Lord's into the glorious, rippling form that the King deserves to be."

Seriously? Kid couldn't do his own workouts?

Logan took a moment to drink in the arresting sight of the brazenly naked warrior woman. His eyes lingered on her large, black breasts, firm washboard abs, and the shaved mons that drew his attention. Those thick thighs with the firm diagonal cuts of her musculature and her round wide hips were damn attractive and he felt his cock-

He tore his gaze from the women to take in the dick swelling and levering itself upward, the weight of it actually pulling at his crotch a bit.

Jesus Christ...

Logan knew Mark's dick was enormous. But seeing and experiencing it firsthand were two wildly different things. Logan stared at the obscene sight of his engorged fuck-hammer as it finished growing, dick-veins like tree-roots pumping blood up to engorge that monster, the tip fully exposed.

Goddamn, this thing could punch a fucking hole in a fucking wall!

He held out the wuss's arms, looking at them rather than the cock. "Well, ain't that just the damnedest thing... What? I'm stuck playin' babysitter to this oversized trouser snake?"

The woman cocked her head, frowning at him even as she purred, "It is glorious, is it not, Wolverine?"

"The King's endowment, Wolverine, is not just a symbol of desire but a vessel of potential. Witness the sheer size and desirability of his magnificent cock. It is more than an object of lust; it is the source of Markanda's future. As you assist in sculpting his physique, remember that you play a vital role in maintaining the potency of his seed. Each drop carries the promise of strong, resilient mutant offspring. Embrace this sacred duty with the understanding that you contribute to the enduring legacy of our King."

Logan listened for about three seconds before his gaze shifted to the naked bodies of the other Dora surrounding him. Hot black bitches one and all, built to fuck, no doubt. The effect was ruined when his arousal caused the dong to flex and sway.

Logan grimaced as the ridiculous pendulous monster dick bobbed up and down.

Okoye stepped up and laid a hand on his shoulder as she commanded, "Come, Wolverine. Let us build muscle for our King. He needs the strength and endurance to fuck each and every one of his queens for hours."

She pressed her body against his, her softness a stark contrast to the sculpted muscle under her dark skin. She ran a hand through his hair, her voice soft as she murmured in his ear, "Follow along and do try to appear properly kingly, yes?"

"Sure thing, build muscles, flex for the king. Ain't like I got anything better to do."

Gritting his teeth he turned and followed the statuesque black woman. Just lovely. He was in the body of Mark-king-of-the-idiots Williams, wearing his gimp robe, and playing at way too personal trainer.

Just fucking great..

Of course, the view ain't bad he had to admit as he watched the two thick chocolate globes of her juicy bubble butt swish back and forth right in front of him as he walked.