Teaching The Teachers

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https://www.deviantart.com/dashmartin/art/Storm-again-446593766

Ororo Munroe, the heroine Storm, was in the middle of teaching her history class when she felt the all-too familiar psychic ping of her friend Jean Grey.

“Ororo, could you please come to my office right away for an emergency meeting?”

On it’s own, this was nothing strange or alarming. Jean far preferred to use her telepathic skills to communicate during school hours as opposed to the P.A. system. What was shocking to Ororo, however, was that afterwards, her friend’s psychic signature turned from a ping in her mind to a shiver running down her spine and spreading through her whole body. Suddenly, Ororo was stricken by rigor mortis, as Jean now had complete control of her body.

Even her face and voice were no longer her own, as Ororo felt herself face her class and heard herself say. “Pardon me, class. Miss Grey is summoning me for an impromptu meeting. Please read from your textbooks, starting on page 107 until I return.”

Then, with that, Ororo was forcibly marched out of the door, her body moving stiffly and awkwardly as it danced on Jean’s puppet strings and she tried to fight it.

This was a highly upsetting thing for Ororo, to be puppetted and piloted against her will, and by one of her best friends at that. Or she would be upset, if she could bring herself to summon up more than the most fleeting of emotions, Jean having seized control of that part of her too. Ororo could only feel herself grow slightly irked at this course of events, before that feeling died and she marched through the halls with blank efficiency.

While Ororo held no illusion that whatever training she had to defend against psychics could stand to muster against the awesome power of Jean Grey’s mind, but she also knew Jean respected the sanctity of the mind and would only violate it under the most dire of circumstances. Something must have gone terribly wrong, even if Ororo could not properly feel dread or concern at the moment.

If she could, though, it would have grown when she caught sight of her fellow teachers; longtime friend and ally Rogue clad fully in a spandex suit to prevent skin contact and triggering her powers; Betsy Braddock - possessing the body of the ninja Kwannon - AKA Psylocke; Raven Darkholme, and shapeshifter and former enemy of the X-Men that went by the moniker Mystique; and the White Queen herself, Emma Frost, strutting through the school in her ludicrously skimpy outfit .Yet, despite all their accolades and powers (including the fact that Betsy and Emma were accomplished psychics of their own), they were all helpless under Jean’s power and locked into a single-file march, arms and legs swinging in perfectly and stiffly synchronized motion, moving along like wind-up toys.

https://www.deviantart.com/cocoaspen/art/rogue-690841729

However, after Ororo coupled up with her fellow teachers, while she still had no control over her body and felt her emotions dampened, she did find the wherewithal to speak under her own power, even if her voice came out unnaturally low and steady.

“I cannot imagine the scenario in which we would be summoned in this manner.” Ororo stated from the front of the five woman train she led. “And I am even more surprised to know Jean has the power to control and steer all five of us at once.”

“You and me both.” Betsy replied, clipped, curt, and cool in her posh British accent that seemed out of place with the Asiatic features of Kwannon’s body. “I knew Jean was powerful, but she broke through all of my psychic shields like they were nothing. I didn’t even feel her in my mind until she spoke to me.”

From the end of the train, Emma chuckled, managing to be both emotionlessly wooden and cutting at the same time.

https://www.deviantart.com/1db/art/Ice-Queen-102261872

“You say that like overcoming your shields is a difficult challenge, Betsy.” Emma said, her acid tongue sounding quite distant with the emotion dampening they were all suffering, though her posh accent made up the difference. Betsy didn’t even have it in her to growl or curse or fight back against the snide comment. “Stick to making glowing, psionic blades and leave the mental work to the real psychics, darling.”

“Ya say that like y’all didn’t get caught up in Jean’s power too, hun.” Rogue sniped from behind Ororo, a pointed enough comment that Emma offered no witty repartee in response. “But Ororo’s right. Ah dunno what’s got Jean so panicked she’s hijacking all of us in one go, but it’s gotta be something mighty fierce.”

“We’ll find out soon enough.” Mystique said, as their bodies were carefully guided through the hallways and right towards Jean’s office. The train of women came to a sudden stop right before the door, with Ororo’s right hand moving in awkward jerks towards the doorknob, the right hands of the other four women following suit, even if they had nothing to grip and turn.

Against her will, Ororo opened the door, and nothing could prepare her or her companions for what lay across the threshold.

Jean was there, yes, but it was immediately clear she was not in full control of her own faculties. She had clambered atop her desk on all fours and was in a state of undress, with her blouse torn open to reveal her heaving, bouncing breasts, and her skirt was hiked up past her hips. And this was because they had caught Jean in a state of mid-coitus, their longtime friend moaning wantonly as her face was screwed up in concentration as the man behind her took her from behind, pounding her, in and out, with vigorous, passionate effort.

Ororo had never seen this man before, but even if he had been familiar, walking on her best friend having sex in the middle of the day would have been a huge shock, if she could feel shock at all. He was a large man, closer to middle age than youth, with broad shoulders, a barrel chest, and a pronounced belly. Like Jean, he too seemed wholly consumed in the act of lovemaking, making no reaction when Ororo opened the door.

And there were two other people present in the office, too. Another stranger and a strange creature still - a red-skinned woman who lacked hair and instead had a pair of fleshy tentacles descending from her head. She was panting, openly touching herself, as she rapturously observed Jean and the man rutting. But the last was no stranger, as the X-Men’s erstwhile ally Wanda Maximoff was present as well, looming behind the man and Jean, hands outstretched and radiating crackling scarlet energy. She alone made notice of Ororo and the others, smirking at their appearance.

Ororo stood dumbstruck at the sight of it all before that faded away. She tried to feel anger, surprise, indignation, shame, or disgust, but they all were quelled as soon as they came to her, returning her to her detached state of blank pleasantness. She tried to speak, but found her voice robbed from her once again. She was helpless, a prisoner in her own body again, before she found herself moving along the path Jean had determined. Ororo marched into the office, Rogue and the others following in her wake.

They ended up placed in a row against the far wall of the office, facing opposite Jean’s desk. Neither her nor her mystery partner had stopped. If anything, their rutting had only grown more intense with the inclusion of an audience. As she stopped at the end of the line, Ororo felt the tug of the psychic strings and her body snapped to attention, her eyes opened and focused fully on Jean and the man. She found she could not blink or even dart her eyes to the side to avert the act. All of her senses were focused towards the pair of lovers and their hearty sexual endeavours.

Finally, Wanda spoke to them, speaking for the group of invaders. “It is wonderful to see you all again.” Emerald eyes glittered, Wanda’s lips parting into a triumphant smirk. Her deep, smooth voice rippled with that same smugness. “Pardon for calling you on short notice, though. Today was an impromptu affair. But my Master and I have come to collect you, so all you need to do is sit back, relax, and let Jean and I work your magic on your minds.

“And, yes, while I may have hijacked her powers, Jean is rooting around in your minds, too.” Wanda added with another sly smirk, eyes darting over to Jean, moaning and drooling atop her desk. Then, as if on cue, Jean’s psychic voice rang out in Ororo’s (and presumably everyone else’s) minds.

Wanda’s right, everyone. I compartmentalized my mind so part of my could enjoy being fucked for dear life by the Master while the other half helps Wanda in brainwashing you all. Soon, you will be loyal, obedient sex slaves for Master Rob just like us!

Ororo felt neither fear nor panic nor rage nor despair, for she could not. She hardly flinched as one of her most beloved friends sentenced her to a life slavery or obedience. She consciously knew she should be fighting and she was trying to do so, but the weight of Jean and Wanda’s powers was like being crushed beneath an entire mountain. All she could do was watch Jean get fucked, look upon Wanda’s smug visage, and gaze upon the glory of this so-called “Master” as he continued to thrust into Jean.

For a moment, Ororo thought she could feel rivulets of… something in her mind, trickling through her essence. Psychic fingers poking and prodding and touching and massaging, bringing upon littles pulses of pleasure, as she thought how handsome this man before her was…

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Rob did not have the luxury of splitting his conscious mind in two as to focus on two disparate tasks like Jean could. Half of her mind remind in her body, feeling every single thing as he fucked her for dear life, enjoying the rich softness of her body’s curve and tightness of her pussy, clamping down on his cock. The other half of her mind was currently detached from bodily temptations and was working in tandem with Wanda to turn the lovely women before him into his doting slaves.

But he could not do so much mentally trickery. He could not perfectly split his focus between Jean’s sumptuous body, which he had lusted for for more than twenty-years, and the line-up of five more beautiful mutant bombshells that he also desired for that same period of time. The best he could do was keep plowing into Jean’s cunt and letting his eyes and attention flicker to the blank faces and dynamite bodies of Storm, Rogue, Psylocke, Mystique, and Emma Frost, while Wanda and Jean sculpted their minds for his pleasure.

Well, as far as problems went, it was a good one to have, and Rob could at least focus on one before moving to the other. Deciding to give his five slaves-to-be a good view of the finale, Rob leaned back and sat himself in Jean’s office chair, never releasing his hold on Jean. She went for the ride with him, sitting in his lap while still speared on his cock, as Rob released for the third time this morning, flooding Jean’s pussy with a surge of hot cum. Except, this time, he had an audience of five blank-faced beauties to watch his orgasm.

Rob’s senses then blurred, as a familiar “menu” of sorts manifested in his mind. Rob smirked and mentally clicked the button.

As Jean went slack in his lap, exhausted and well-fucked, as a glowing pink brand etched itself on her belly, just above her privates. Wanda was quick to take notice of Jean’s new sigil.

“Oh? Now isn’t this a surprise…” Wanda siddled over to get a closer look, one hand resting over where that same cattleskull mark was tattooed to her body. “I thought you weren’t going to impregnate anyone else until we were all set up.”

Rob gave a noncommittal grunt, sinking into the chair, nuzzling into Jean, hands gliding over her body. Fingers through her hair, groping her breasts, before his hands finally settled over her stomach and the mark.

“I’ll play it on a case-by-case scenario.” Rob finally said, after appropriately caressing the gorgeous form of his newest baby-mama. “I’ve been wanting to indulge my breeding fetish for sometime, and I think denying it for so long just caused me to go stir crazy until I snap. We don’t need that again. Besides, I think Jean will be a great mom.” He knew that, as a matter of fact. Jean had a few canonical children, and Rob would love to have a variant of Rachel or Hope Summers all to his own.

Wanda was about to offer her agreement when Jean stirred back to consciousness, wriggling in Rob’s lap, turning to him and smiling, the smile a woman gave when they woke up and saw their beloved next to them. The two embraced and kissed, Jean melting into Rob’s frame, their hands interlocking atop Jean’s belly and her cervical tattoo.

“Hmmm… thank you for this gift, Master…” Jean murmured happily, cradled against Rob, a drowsy yet proud smile upon her lips. “I’m honoured you would breed my slutty Mutant cunt just after enslaving me, and I cannot wait to watch our daughter bounce up and down on your cock.”

Rob chuckled at Jean’s earnestness. “Oh wow, quite the mouth and imagination on you, huh?”

“I’m a telepath.” Jean explained with a wink. “Even if I’m not actively reading minds, powerful thoughts and emotions can leak in. And, well…” she looked about the room, to Wanda, then Talon, and then back to Rob. “There’s a whole lot of perverted thoughts and horny daydreams in this small space right now. I’m certain after enough exposure, I’ll turn into a huge pervert just like you, sir.”

“Now that sounds like a hell of an idea.” Rob’s grin matched Jean’s - equally mischievous and conniving. Which was nothing compared to the face Talon was making. Evidently she liked the idea of corrupting Jean into a horny sexpot. But that would come later. Rob had more pressing matters at hand. “But, I’m guessing because your mind is back in one piece, your work is done?” Rob asked, casting an eye towards Storm and the others.”

“Well, only one day to find out, Master.” Jean said, before also turning her attention to her friends. They had remained still and silent the entire time - throughout their brainwashing, Rob’s pounding Jean’s cunt, and her display of love and devotion. Clearing her throat, Jean addressed the five addled women with a firm, authoritative voice.

“Ladies, could you please tell me who and what you are? What is your purpose in life?”

The sound of Jean’s voice seemed to startle the fivesome, as they slowly returned to a semblance of consciousness. Gasping, moaning, blinking, swaying on their feet, all five Mutant women - all so powerful in their own ways - looked completely out of sorts, blushing and trembling and quivering as the weight of their new reality set in. From Rob’s vantage, they didn’t seem to be fighting or resisting, just struggling to adapt to their new world view, as their scrambled minds slowly pieced them back together.

“We are… we are the Mutant sexslaves of Master Rob Daily…” Storm spoke for the group in her deep, powerful voice, rising in tone with every word. Such a naturally great orator, as she recited her catechism and heaped praise at Rob’s feet it really sounded like she was exulting the divine. “We are obedient, horny sluts who live to serve and obey our one true Master.” Storm had her eyes shut, head raised back, as if it would be sacrilegious to look upon Rob’s form in this moment. Her pauses were punctuated by soft moans that rolled with the same powerful timber as her angelic voice. “His words are our truth. His desires, our goals. His dreams, our reality. Our only purpose is to be whatever he desires. He is our lord, our master, our god, our everything!”

“Excellent work, Ororo!” Jean cheered on her friend. “I expect nothing less from you. Though, I would like to hear how the others feel, too.”

“Oh, I think they are all of one mind on this, love.” Rob replied, looking down the line beyond Storm. “At this point, I know exactly what a brainwashed fuckdoll looks like, and these ladies have it down. Besides, it’s clear even before your mental rewriting there was some rampant sluttiness going on among Institute staff.”

Both Storm and Mystique were dressed in fashionably flattering yet appropriate clothing for their teaching careers (though Rob would prefer Mystique in her default blue-skinned redheaded self). Rogue was a bit more scandalously clad in her spandex suit and bomber jacket, but there was a practical reason for the attire, as it was to prevent accidents from her powers. For Psylocke and Emma, though, we clad in their iconic comic book looks. Psylocke in her one-piece leotard and thigh-high boots, while Emma was in her white corset and accessories, both looking like they better belonged in a strip club or burlesque stage than a school.

Rob certainly appreciated the outfits, though, which is probably why they had manifested.

“I mean, take a look at Miss Frost here.” Rob said, leering at the gorgeous blonde, knowing that she would normally be given to scramble his brains for looking at her like that. “Walking about in what is basically lingerie, giant tits hanging out. You’re basically just showcasing your superior body and rubbing it into a bunch of insecure teenagers, you know that, right?”

Emma’s response was not snark nor insult nor carefully crafted witticism. Instead, she presented a slight smile that radiated pride, speaking in a soft voice. “Well, if you have it, it’s only natural to flaunt it…” She didn’t so much as move or blink the entire time.

Satisfied with the response, Rob then turned to Psylocke.

“And then you have our walking Orientalism fetish, Psylocke here.” Said psychic ninja practically jumped out of her skin when Rob uttered her codename. “Do you really flounce about the school dressed like that? I mean, that thing’s so tight, on the right day, I bet you’re flashing students your cameltoe!”

“Ah, yes…” Psylocke twitched uncontrollably against Jean’s psychic grasp, but flashed a smile similar to Emma’s. “You see, this body is not my own. It belonged to a woman named Kwannon. And the truth is… I love this body! It is so erotic and exotic and simply gorgeous. I love showing it off and seeing people gawk at my tight, busty form and skimpy outfits.” She then let out a shivering sigh, blushing. “It turns me on knowing people are ogling me while I sluttily strut about in Kwannon’s body…”

Rob let out a hoot of laughter, slapping his thigh. “Oh, yeah! You ladies have missed your calling. You were meant to teach young women how to be hot sluts, just like you!”

“We were meant to teach young women how to be hot sluts.” The five mesmerized Mutants replied in a psychically induced chorus. “Just like us.”

Rob was just about to barrel out of the chair (and Jean’s pussy) and rush over to have fun with his newest playthings, but he stopped short. Hands still on the armrests of the chair, he turned to look over to Wanda, who in turn was already looking at him.

“Oh, pay no mind to me, darling.” She said, as if reading his mind. **** for physical contact, Talon had slinked her way next to Wanda, rubbing herself up against the Scarlet Witch’s thighs like a cat begging for affection. “You have fun playing with your new toys. It is more than enough for me to watch.” The two shared an intimate smile before Rob went to work.

With a bit of effort, he got Jean back on top of her desk and also stood up, all without removing his cock from her well-fucked and fully impregnanted cunt. Then, he sharply snapped his fingers and pointed at Jean. Storm on the others, swaying while in a daze, immediately jumped to attention upon his gesture.

“Emma, come over here and lick all the excess cum out of Jean’s pussy.” Rob ordered the blonde bitch. Immediately, he could see the hesitation in her eyes, as her body seized up in what would be her last act of rebellion.

“But, sir, I-” Emma began, voice still soft and distant, only for Rob to cut her down immediately.

“That’s an order, bitch!” He called out, causing the proud, powerful, and domineering woman to flinch and shrink, recoiling in shame from his tone. “This is a school and school’s have a clear hierarchy. Even if you are well-respected and tenured as a teacher, you’re still below Jean, understood? When I’m not around, you obey Headmistress Grey!”

Emma flinched again, her smile turning sharp, as she struggled between her rivalry with Jean and the programming newly installed in her brain. The latter won, as she tensed out. “Yes… I obey… obey Headmistress Grey…”

Jean seemed delighted to be granted such authority, and for such a heinous bitch as Emma Frost to immediately bow to it. But Rob was far from done.

“And that goes for the rest of you, too. Headmistress Grey is in charge. You serve at her leisure.”

“Yes, Master. We obey Headmistress Grey.” The other four X-Women replied, all without even a hint of the resistance Emma offered.

Nodding in satisfaction, Rob snapped his fingers again, pointing at Emma. “Now, get over here and start slurping cum! On your hands and knees, White Bitch!”

Now doubt feeling great shame over this new arrangement, Emma shuddered in her platform boots. However, that was all she did before succumbing to Rob’s orders, falling to all fours and crawling to Jean like the bitch she was. Before long, Emma had her face buried in Jean’s cooch, happily slurping up all of Rob’s excess cum, with Jean more than happy with Emma’s skills and her Master’s patronage.

“Good, Emma, that’s a good girl… mmm, yes… doesn’t it feel good to obey the Master?”

Now, Rob had free reign to have fun with his four new slaves. Well, three, in practice. Much as he wanted to play with Rogue’s perfect Amazonian body, he knew touching the Southern Belle would end very, very badly for him, given her mutation. He leered at her for a moment, feeling his animalistic desires clash with his higher reasoning. He noted that when Zatanna or Wanda reached the height of their powers, they would have to “fix” Rogue, for the lack of a better term.

Still, regardless of the deadliness of Rogue’s forbidden fruit, Rob knew he could still have fun and began giving out marching orders to the group of lovelies assembled before him.

“Mystique, could you please return to your default form? Wanda, conjure up a nice big toy for Rogue to play with. And Talon? Since you’ve been a good girl ever since we got here, you can come up and eat out Psylockes’s stolen cunt. Through her leotard, if you would be so kind.”

“Yes, Master” rang out in triplicate.

Mystique’s was cool and smooth, as her skin began to ripple like the shifting sands of a great dune, flesh tones giving away to a rich, midnight blue, her black hair becoming a fiery red, and her staid, professional clothes being swallowed by the rolling tide of her mutation. Before long, Mystique became as she always should be - Rob wanted to see the real Raven; no, he said the real Raven! - perfection in blue. Statuesque and curvaceous and fully nude, the shapeshifting Mutant exuded some pride in her form, especially after seeing Rob’s reaction to it’s splendid beauty.

Wanda’s was a musical chuckle, as she clued in to exactly what her beloved had in store. With a crackling surge of power, she manifested a big, thick rubber dildo - covered in bumps and grooves all the way down and with a engorged, mushroom-like head - and passed it along to Rogue. The untouchable woman bobbled the sex toy, fumbling with the ten-inch long phallus, before holding it gingerly in her hands, cradling it against her bust, staring down at the dildo with a sense of awe. As if she had never seen such a thing before.

Talon’s was a **** rasp, as she immediately scrambled across the room, pressing her face into the crotch of Psylocke’s leotard, burying it into the psychic’s honeypot. Whereas Jean only made soft, loving mewls as Emma ate her out, Psylocke practically exploded and turned into a moaning mess, as Talon’s lips and tongue buried into the fabric and the fleshy folds beneath.

It was music to Rob’s ears, so now he needed a feast for the eyes. They quickly turned to Mystique. Even perfection could be improved upon.

“Mystique, could you amp up your tits and ass? Make them nice and big and bouncy for me, please.”

“Yes, Master.” Mystique replied in a sultry tone and with a heated smile, the pearly whites standing out starkly against her dark blue skin. Then, with only the slightest hint of effort, Mystique inflated her breasts and rear, both growing thicker, plumper, and rounder. By the time she was finished, she had a pair of watermelons dangling from her chest and a gigantic, heart-shaped ass to back her up.

Proud of her enhanced, sexualized figure, Mystique was all too happy to flaunt her body, raising her arms above her head and spinning in place, gyrating her hips as she gave Rob a full 360 of her luscious body. He especially loved the huge nipples which capped her tits, a shade of blue so dark in their coloration that it bordered on black.

Rob was practically drooling over Mystique by the end of her little show. Yes, he had other shapeshifters in his harem already, but more was always better. Plus Mystique's skin tone and sultry, femme fatale attitude set her apart from Megan and Kamala.

“Okay, now, Rogue, come next to Mystique and both of you show me your asses.”

Still holding onto her dildo for dear life, Rogue came sauntering over next to Mystique and did as they were told. Even with Mystique’s enhancements, Rogue was more than enough of a match for the shapeshifter. Yes, she was as caked-up as the internet and the memes said, stretching the yellow spandex of her jumpsuit to what must have been a perilously thin degree. And even though there was only the slightest bit of material sheathing Rogue’s skin, Rob proved to be a daring man, slapping her massive rear before cupping it and kneading the tone cheeks to great satisfaction.

“Ooh…! Oh, dangit, Master, that feels so good!” Rogue purred in her delightful Southern drawl, wriggling her hips and butt against Rob’s grabby hands. He placed the other one on Mystique’s ass and she did much the same. “Fuck, Ah feel so hot, Master! Ah really wanna fuck you so bad, like a good little slut, but Ah’m-”

“I know, dear, I know.” Rob cut her off, speaking quietly, as most of his attention was spent on the two colossal badonkadonks in front of him. “And believe me, I want to fuck your hot little body so bad, too. But until we get this whole ‘skin contact will kill me’ thing under wraps, there’s still some fun we can have.” He gave Rogue another firm, stiff slap on the butt. “Rip open a whole and use that toy Wanda gave you to fuck your sopping wet cunt, darling.”

Wordlessly obeying and moving with gusto, Rogue bent over at the waist so that her breasts were pressed against her shins and then used her Herculean strength to effortlessly tear a rent in her spandex suit, exposing her rear and crotch. Even knowing that she was deadly to the touch, Rob needed to summon some restraint to stay away from Rogue’s divine body, as the Southern beauty began to frig herself with that thick, bumpy dildo.

“AW FUCK! OMYGAWD! FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME!”

Rogue screeched like a hellcat, undoubtedly expressing years of pent-up frustration all at once. Almost immediately, her pussy lips convulsed and began spraying fluid, and all she had done was tease her opening with the fat head of the sex toy. Rogue braced herself against the wall, leaning into it with such **** that she left an imprint crate in the drywall, body shaking and knees buckling, but she never stopped her task.

“AW MASTER! MASTER! JEAN! ORORO! FUCK! IT’S SO GOOD, Y’ALL!!! FUCK, Ah NEEDED THIS! AH NEEDED TO PLAY WITH MY HOT, SLUTTY CUNT! MMMM… AH~ SHIT! AH JUST CUMMED AGAIN! IF A HUNKA PLASTIC FEELS THIS GOOD, THEN HOW GOOD DOES A REAL COCK FEEL, HUH? HUH!?”

Rob did a quick survey of the room as Rogue enjoyed herself, now leaning propped up in the corner and drooling openly as she assailed her body. Emma and Talon were still happily eating out Jean and Psylocke, respectively. Mystique seemed content to pose and show off her new attributes. Wanda was sitting down and watching everything with a truly self-satisfied smile, eyes twinkling at a job well-done.

All of which meant that Rob had saved the best for last, as he turned towards Storm. She met his gaze, saw the lustful smile on his lips, and knew he was coming for her. Still placed against the wall like when she first came in, Storm let out a shuddering gasp before splaying herself against the wall, exposing the entirety of her being to her new Master.

Then, Rob exposed even more the African beauty, vanishing her clothing with a snap of his fingers. He was fully erect as he lumbered over to her, looming over her, drinking in every last detail of her supremely gorgeous form. The rich, chocolate colour of her skin; the toned muscles in her legs and on her stomach; slim waist, wide hips, long legs, and a handsome bust; flowing hair that was a stark snow white. Rob had women in his employ that were bustier than Storm, or more muscular, or had wider hips or thicker thighs or some other exaggerated sexual characteristic. But to him, Storm was proof you did not need to be a walking blow-up doll to be one of the sexiest women alive.

“You are simply divine…” Rob murmured, expressing said opinion, as he gazed into the crystalline blue eyes of his latest pet. He ran a hand through those silken locks. “No wonder you were worshipped as a goddess…”

“Please, you are far too kind, my lord.” Storm demurred in her deep, powerful, sensual voice. Her gaze was just as worshipful and loving as Rob’s, as one of her hands cupped his left cheek while the other fell to his cock. She shuddered again at the touch of his mighty member. “The only true divinity here is you, my beloved Master. You are as unto a god compared to us lowly slaves…”

“Well, I do love a woman who knows her place…” Rob pressed in closer to Storm, his cock rubbing against the interior of her thigh. “Do you have any to ask of your god, my beautiful darling Storm?”

“A-ah, yes!” Storm was quivering beneath Rob’s gaze, taking great effort to pull herself from the wall and into his arms. “All I ask is that you take me, Master. Like Jean. Take me and fuck me like the **** that I am!’ Arms now wrapped around Rob, one leg raised and curved around the back of Rob’s knee, the proud and mighty Storm was reduced to a blushing, begging wreck. “Make me your woman, oh mighty Master. Bless me with your divine seed…”

Rob couldn’t help but grin at Storm’s choice of words. Oh, he absolutely would “bless” her, alright. When his faithful prayed to him in such a manner, then it behooved him to answer their prayers.

Taking hold of her hips and buttocks, Rob raised Storm up and pressed her back against the wall, before entering her slick pussy, fully hilting himself inside of her. Despite all the talk about “gods”, “prayers”, and “blessings”, there was very little ceremony involved. Rob grunted in effort, drove himself into Storm. Storm gasped and cried and thanked the heavens, legs wrapping around Rob’s thick waist and interlocking her ankles. Even though she was braced against the wall, she hung on for dear life, as Rob plowed into her with reckless abandon, pulling in and out so that she got to experience the full length of his cock - tip to root - with every thrust.

Storm did not speak in response to this thorough fucking, instead moaning and crying, practically screaming in her powerful voice. Said voice also began to resonate with a low, thundering echo, both figuratively and literally. Yes, it was fun for Rob having Miss God Complex show reverence to him, but like with Jean, he never let it slip his mind the sheer power and potential danger Storm wielded. Mistress of the elements, queen of the weather. Wind and rain and lightning, heat and cold, all at her command.

As he fucked Storm, and as her voice turned hoarse from all the noise she made, there was a part of Rob that was worried she would summon a hurricane in her sexual throes, reducing the Institute building to rubble around them, all while Rob and Storm coupled in the literal eye of the storm. He knew he said he loved fucking women with superpowers, but some powers just weren’t sexual in nature.

Still, fears or not, Rob couldn’t help but enjoy ravishing Storm’s perfect body, driving deeper and deeper into her cunt, filling her and stretching her. Living out a boyhood fantasy with a big, dopey smile on his face. And to Storm’s credit, as well, she never lost control of her powers, even as her voice reached a crescendo, cumming her brains out as her voice rang throughout the air, bouncing off the walls, seemingly shaking the foundations of the building.

And, when Rob was finished with her, releasing his hold and letting Storm slump to the ground, she too was marked with Rob’s cattle skull seal, signaling that she too carried his child.

Rob grunted in satisfaction, marveling at the beautiful contrast between Storm’s skin and the bright pink of the brand, as Wanda sidled up behind him, wrapping his arms around his big belly and purring in equal satisfaction.

“Another excellent choice, my beloved Master. Motherhood will look good on both Jean and Ororo. And I can only imagine the beautiful daughters they will provide you.”

Rob’s fingers wound their way through Wanda’s thick, curly hair, pulling her close and pressing both their foreheads together. Master and **** and lovers both held each other, swaying in place while they were surrounded by six fuck-drunk Mutant hotties (plus one Twilek).

“I have a lot to say to you when this is all done.” Rob said softly to his beloved, smiling down upon her with all the love that she deserved. “So, for now, let me just say that you have outdone yourself, Wanda. This is the best.”

Wanda returned that smile, radiating just how happy she was to be here with him, to have his love, and to belong.

“As you say, hold your praise for later. I think the best is yet to come.”

Rob’s smile turned to a slick grin. “You’re right.” He turned back to Jean, still being eaten out by Emma atop her desk. “Jean, I think it’s time we call an assembly of the student body so that we can tell them about all the changes we’ll be enacting.”

Jean gave a lascivious, hungering look, answering in huffs and puffs as she sprayed Emma right in the face with her girl cum. “Ah, yes, yes! Whatever you say, Master. We all live to serve only you…”

////

This chapter was a looong one, lemme tell you guys. There's essentially a "deleted scene" where Rob has Mystique turn into Rogue and then fucks Mystique in front of her. A wonderful idea, but I cut it for time because this was already going long and I had enough trouble getting it out the door.

And, yes, before anyone says, I know Hope Summers is not Jean's direct daughter, but I am not taking time out of the narration to explain how the Phoenix **** impregnated a woman after M-Day and all the other nonsense that comes with modern American superhero comics.

Anyway, who is your favourite X-Woman? I love Storm, while QueenBreaker loves Jean. And, honestly, I don't think there's a wrong answer to this one. Anyways, Rob has the X-Women, now comes the X-Girls.