Royal Gamers [pt. III]: Fat Bottomed Girl

Jessica stood just inside the room, unobtrusively observing and waiting for her moment with her tray of drinks held aloft.

She enjoyed the entertainment even as she continually ogled Mark Williams.

It was an honor to be here, of course — to be near the King. It was an honor, even if it made her acutely aware of her own position in the grand hierarchy of Markanda. An Enhanced Human was still just that: human. She had her gifts, her abilities, but she would always be beneath the lowest mutant in the pecking order.

Jubilee, on the other hand, was everything Jessica longed to be. Young, vibrant, powerful—secure in her place among Markanda's mutant elite. Jubilee was fully in her element, flicking her tongue across the sensitive tip of Spyke’s cock, her hand moving rapidly along his shaft. Jessica felt something between admiration and envy as she watched. The mutant girl’s confidence, her raw sexuality—it was mesmerizing. Jubilee didn’t just exist in this world; she thrived.

Spyke groaned, his body trembling, barely holding on for another thirty seconds before letting out a guttural moan, his cock pulsing in Jubilee's grip as he came hard.

Jessica felt a sharp pang of loss and irrational irritation towards Jubilee as she pulled back, avoiding the shots and letting Spyke's precious mutant DNA splatter thickly across the floor, wasted there when Jessica's womb was on fire and filling her brain constantly with baby-making fever.

Jubilee's grin was full of smug satisfaction. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, giving Spyke a knowing look.

"Well, that didn’t take long, did it, Spikey-boy?" Jubilee teased, her voice filled with casual dominance.

Jubilee, so young and already secure in her place, the curve of her belly rounding with Wolverine’s child. The sight burned Jessica. More than anything, she wanted to bear King Mark’s child, to carry his essence. But to even to be knocked up by another powerful mutant—Wolverine, Nightcrawler, Magneto—it would still be incredibly gratifying.

Jubilee had made it, was in Wolverine’s harem, and soon enough she would be pregnant again. This was the natural order of Markanda—mutant men fathering children, securing the future, continuing the divine line. Jessica’s heart clenched at the thought. She wanted that. She wanted to be chosen, to be part of something greater, something real.

Jubilee smoothly turned her attention to Sunspot, who was already struggling to keep his composure. His cock was still hard, throbbing in the open air, and Jubilee was ready for round two. Jessica watched, her mouth dry as Jubilee grabbed Sunspot’s balls in one hand, pulling them down while her other hand held his shaft up. She flicked her tongue across the sensitive underside of the head, causing Roberto to squirm, his body betraying him.

"J-Jubes, come on…" Sunspot gasped, his voice ragged. But Jubilee had no intention of making it easy for him. With a wide, exuberant swing of her arms around his waist, Jubilee SLAP-grabbed Sunspot's butt-cheeks, her fingers taking a firm grip of his flesh. She used that leverage to push and pull his hips, her face bouncing off his groin like a basketball. She took Roberto fully into her mouth, her head bobbing rhythmically, her cheeks hollowing with each deep, concave suck. Jessica could see the satisfaction in Jubilee’s eyes as she took complete control, pushing Sunspot further and further.

The king watched from his seat, satisfaction radiating from him. He glanced at the floating timer they could all see thanks to their neural implants, edging closer to the three-minute mark of the hold-out race the mutant youths were playing,"You’re cutting it close, Jubes." he smirked, his voice a casual taunt, "He might make it.."

Jessica watched as Sunspot struggled, his breaths coming in ragged gasps and Jubilee quickened her pace, her mouth moving like a well-oiled machine, pushing Roberto closer to the edge.

With five seconds left on the clock, Sunspot groaned deeply, his cock twitching violently as he came, spilling himself into her mouth. She didn’t flinch, swallowing every drop, her lips tight around him as his orgasm wracked his body.

Jubilee pulled back with a triumphant look, opening her mouth to show off Roberto's cum pooled on her tongue before swallowing with a satisfied grin. "Mmm, tastes like victory," she said, her tone dripping with pride.

Even in her jealousy, Jessica couldn’t help but admire Jubilee. She embodied all that Jessica revered in the mutant women here—power, freedom, beauty. Even now, amidst such carnal acts, there was something radiant about her, an aura that came from knowing her place in the grand design. It was that radiance that made Jessica feel the weight of her own humanity, a burden she longed to cast off.

As Sunspot recovered, glancing down at his own cock as it sprang back to life just as Spyke's had, Jessica once again marveled at the display of virility. Like all mutant males, they had only gone soft for about ten seconds before bouncing back to a full erection. It was a stark reminder of the difference between mutants and humans. She thought of Roger—Porcupine—how once he came, he was done for the night, his penis withering into a useless worm. The comparison stung even as it aroused her, a reminder of her own limitations, her own humanity.

As she stood there, her body exposed, her pheromones filling the air, she could see the subtle reactions in the room. Spyke and Sunspot’s arousal and interest had reignited, and even Jubilee seemed affected, her breaths a little quicker, her eyes a little glassier. The power she held, just with her presence, gave Jessica a rush of satisfaction. She could make men—and women—**** with just a hint of her ability. But there was one man in the room whose attention she craved more than anyone's, and his approval meant everything.

Mark’s gaze finally settled on her, his face unreadable at first, but then, the corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk, and Jessica felt her heart race faster. That smirk—just that small gesture—was what she had been waiting for.

She strutted across the royal suite, the silver tray of beers balanced effortlessly on one hand, her hips swaying in a calculated rhythm that made her ass—full, round, and unmistakably prominent—bounce and jiggle with each step. She ignored the sounds of Jubilee’s teasing laughter and the satisfied groans of Spyke and Sunspot, her focus entirely on the young king lounging back on the couch, watching her approach with that lazy, smug grin that had somehow only become more magnetic over time.

"Ah, Jess... Didn’t see you there." His eyes gleamed with mischief; he’d clearly been watching her the entire time.

"Your beer, your majesty," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm-tinged reverence. "Imported all the way from the States, just the way you like it."

Mark called out with a grin, "Oh shit! We've got Spider-Woman on the beer run!" His comment got a few laughs from Spyke, who snickered, "Spider-Woman! For real? Maybe next time you can grab me Doritos, boo." Neither of the other two responded as Jubilee had Sunspot's face buried between her thighs, her fingers threaded through his hair as she kept him firmly in place.
Her head was tilted back, her mouth hanging open, eyes glazed over in pleasure as she made silly faces, lost in the sensations.

Mark grinned as he cracked open the beer. "I'm pretty sure I handed you off to Okoye. What are you now, a War Dog? Shouldn't you be out there keeping the humans busy, making sure they glare at each other instead of looking our way?"

"I am and I do. Just a humble servant, here to worship at the altar of The Great King Mark. And maybe… earn a little extra favor from the throne."

She closed the distance, her lips meeting his in a slow, teasing kiss. Their tongues tangled, and her heart raced as his hand slid up to her chest, fingers hooking onto the silver chain between her nipple piercings. He gave a gentle tug, making her gasp against his mouth as her nipple stretched, her breast pulling into a taut cone. The delicious ache shot straight to her core, her body responding with instinctive heat.

He pulled back, looking her over with a lazy smile.

"Tell you what—why don’t you help me out of these pants, Jess. Then go work your magic around the room. Make this place smell nice… like only my favorite fat-assed Glade Air Freshener can."

Sheer delight and a heartfelt 'Yes!!!' exploded through Jessica mind.

Getting closer to Markanda's great white mutant cock was always worth any sacrifice no matter how brief and fleeting the experience.

As Jessica gripped the waistband of King Mark's sweatpants, she felt her thrill of anticipation build, knowing exactly what was about to be unleashed. He hadn’t bothered with one of his enormous custom “banana hammocks” today, his massive cock held back only by the confines of his track pants. With a steady breath, she began to tug them downward, slowly revealing inch after inch of taut, meaty mutant prick. But as soon as she cleared the pantleg past his thick cockhead, an overwhelming **** erupted.

It was as if a wall of sheer, throbbing mutant meat exploded upward, her hands pushed away as the monstrous length burst free, bouncing up with a powerful swing that seemed to defy gravity. The brutal length of it shot forward like a catapult’s arm, cutting through the space between them in one unstoppable motion. Jessica couldn’t help but gasp, her palms still tingling from the **** of it. A heavy, thick, brutal rod of vein-choked cock meat swayed between them, so engorged with blood that by rights, King Mark should have been slumped back, passed out from the sheer volume it demanded of his body.

The shaft was immense, each vein bulging out like a riverbed winding up its length, a testament to the mutant power contained within. It was as far from the impressive, yet lesser, mutant cocks of Sunspot and Spyke as they were from the ordinary, almost laughable size of her ex, Roger. Their dark shafts, though remarkable, seemed almost quaint in comparison to the brutal, towering beast before her, a testament to mutant supremacy in every throbbing inch.

Underneath this monstrous organ, his balls hung heavily, pooling against the couch cushion like two fully inflated water balloons, their girth pulling the stretched sac taut as they settled, wobbling slightly with the aftershock of his cock’s release. Each orb seemed ready to burst with stored potency, sloshing within the confines of his sac, full and swollen with the essence of the man before her.

Jessica’s eyes traveled the entire length, barely able to take it all in. It seemed as long as her arm, bobbing and bucking in the air between them, a beast untethered, a brutal **** of nature. She could feel the heat radiating off it, each movement hypnotic as it hovered just inches away, thick and brutal, a reminder of the raw power King Mark possessed—and how eagerly she awaited the chance to serve him once again.

She waited and feasted eyes before getting up and moving to the nearest empty pedestal, stepping onto it.

Her heart pounded in her chest, her skin prickling with a mixture of excitement and arousal. She felt a pull—a compulsion deeper than pride or loyalty. This was about biology. About being human in a room full of mutants, surrounded by powerful, virile men. Her instincts knew what to do, following an ancient rhythm meant to attract a mate.

She started slowly, standing tall, as if still holding onto a semblance of composure. Her hands rested on her head, elbows bent to expose the sensitive skin of her armpits, wafting her pheromones into the air with each subtle movement. She let her hips twitch side to side, the barest motion, but it was enough to set her buttocks in motion. The sway was subtle, a small concession, but as she began to move, it transformed into something more primal. Her rounded ass jiggled, the flesh quivering with each gentle rock, almost hypnotic in its rhythm.

Clap... Clap... Clap...

The sound filled the room, the soft, meaty slap of her cheeks colliding with each shift of her hips. Her thong, a thin strip barely holding its place, seemed almost an afterthought as her ass wobbled and bounced with increasing vigor. She felt herself sinking deeper into the role, the part of her that once fought it fading away, replaced by pure, animalistic need. She wanted their eyes on her—she wanted his eyes on her, drinking in every bounce and shake.

Then, with the grace and control of a spider-enhanced heroine, Jessica bent her knees, dropping down into a flawless squat. Her thighs flexed, supporting her weight effortlessly, her super strength making it feel as natural as breathing. She held the position, her hips now rolling with a newfound intensity, faster and faster, as her thick, powerful backside clapped against itself in a rhythm that grew louder, more insistent.

Clap... Clap... Clap...

Each movement sent a fresh wave of pheromones into the room, filling the air with the intoxicating scent of arousal. She could feel it radiating off her, a fog of desire thickening around her as she continued to twerk, her ass moving with such **** that the thin strap of her thong snapped taut with every bounce. Her bare breasts swayed with the motion, nipples erect, glinting with the silver chains that connected them, adding to the sensual spectacle.

She glanced toward Spyke and Sunspot, catching their wide-eyed, transfixed expressions, both men visibly affected by the display. She knew what they wanted—they were no different from her. Their bodies were primed, their gazes hungry. She could feel the room heating up, the collective arousal growing thick and palpable, and it only spurred her on.

Jessica’s hips pumped faster, her muscles holding steady as she dropped even lower into the squat, bringing her ass level with her head. She bent forward slightly, hands still resting on her head, her back arching in a perfect curve that accentuated her backside, presenting herself fully. She was a machine now, a vessel of pure, unfiltered desire, each movement designed to captivate, to allure, to make herself irresistible.

Clap... Clap... Clap...

Her ass rose and fell with a **** that seemed impossible, the flesh rippling as she held the deep squat, her thong barely clinging to her, stretched taut between her cheeks. She was a spectacle, a performance, every bounce a call to the men in the room, a silent invitation for their attention, for their approval. Her body had been crafted for this, honed through years of training, and now it moved with the ease of muscle memory, following an ancient rhythm meant to attract a mate.

The pheromones thickened, spreading through the suite in waves, intoxicating anyone close enough to breathe them in. Jessica was the living Glade air freshener that Mark had requested, her body both the source of the scent and the center of attention. She felt her skin tingling, her heart racing as she let herself go, surrendering fully to the performance.

Her gaze drifted to Mark, her king, hoping to catch his reaction.

But, of course, he, like the rest of the mutants in the room, was utterly lost to his lusts, his attention fully consumed by the writhing, laughing Jubilee pressed against him.

With the X-gene already amplifying their natural impulses, the added effect of Jessica's pheromones had thrown them all into a frenzy. It was as if a primal, unstoppable hunger had taken over, a **** that drowned out rational thought and left them completely ruled by their instincts. Even Mark, usually so composed, so smugly in control, looked glazed and reckless, his hands roaming freely over Jubilee’s form, each touch a possessive, mindless claim.

Jubilee laughed again, a bright, breathy sound that carried over the low groans and whispered curses of the men surrounding her. Her movements were wild, uninhibited, rolling her baby bump against Mark while Spyke and Sunspot pressed up against her from either side. She was at the center of their attentions, their collective desire focused entirely on her, her swollen belly and bare skin bathed in the heated energy that radiated from each of them.

Spyke’s hands were wrapped around her waist, his hips moving in time with hers as he ground against her from behind. Sunspot, on her other side, had a hand tangled in her hair, his lips moving down the line of her throat, leaving a trail of marks that would fade within minutes but spoke of possession all the same. And Mark—the King himself—was everywhere, his hands, his mouth, claiming Jubilee in a way that left no room for anyone else in his gaze.

Jessica felt a stab of frustration mixed with a twisted sense of pride. Her powers had driven them to this—her pheromones had pushed them beyond the brink, had turned the room into a hotbed of unrestrained lust. It was exhilarating to witness her own power at work, knowing she could reduce even the strongest mutants to this state of need. But the sting of being left out, of being ignored in favor of Jubilee, gnawed at her.

She continued to move, twerking with mechanical precision, her muscular thighs flexing as she squatted and bounced, each clap of her ass sending out another wave of pheromones, keeping the room bathed in the thick scent of arousal. She told herself that it was only a matter of time, that eventually one of them—Mark, perhaps—would look her way, drawn to her as he had been before. And when that moment came, she would be ready, her body primed and waiting to be pulled from her pedestal and into the heat of the action.

For now, she was content to watch, her pheromones filling the air, her own anticipation building with every passing second. The night was young, and the pleasures of Markanda had only just begun.

After all everyone knew mutants could go for hours.