BY : Blu
Category: X-men Comics > Threesomes/Moresomes
Dragon prints: 8058
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men comics, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.


Scott/Warren/Betsy/Bobby/Hank/Jean/Peter (and not necessarily in that order!)
3860 words

Characters copyright and property of Marvel Comics Group. Story and plot copyright 2002 Blu Fiction and property of Atomic Fantasy all rights reserved. Please contact the author for archive permission and feedback.


A booted, six-inch heel, smelling of old polished leather and plastic vinyl, came to rest on his back. He arched downward and cried out.

"Oh please, Mistress! I'll do what you want, I promise! Please, tell me - command me!" he begged.

"You will," the woman's voice said. She held him by a halter, a leash of chain links attached to a tileatleather cuff that constricted him by the neck. His face was red and sweaty, he could, through the small eyeholes of his mask, occassionally get glimpses of his own sweat that had formed several small pools on the floor - splattered droplets formed almost perfect patterns on the floor. he could hardly see due to the mask she made him wear - but it pleased her, so he would. He lived to please her. Her and the others. But looking around was difficult - too hard - she held him tight and didn't allow anything that she hadn't ordered, even a twist of his neck to get a glimpse of her - all he wanted. Trying to see was like watching an old black and white film clip that kept flickering in an out of the light of projection. He was so hot he could barely control himself - he desperately needed to cool down but couldn't even summon the will. He was hers. He would.


He walked into the room and ran his bloodshot eyes over the scene. There one stood, foot on the boy, clad in sheer leather. Black stillettos laced to the knee, clasped with straps to a garter, a tight vest holding her skin. Breasts held high and tight by wrap-around eye-ports and metal buckles. Hair the color of blood falling down past delicate shoulders. He shouldn't be fooled though. Delicate maybe at another time but not now. A mask concealed her face - not fit to be seen by men. She was busy administering humiliation to the boy.

He stepped further in and cocked his head to get a better look at the boy. Honey blond, short-cropped hair and a muscled frame - but not one as large as some. Fine, smoothly chiseled muscles that glowed slick with sweet sweat. Nothing but leather cuffs on his wrists and anlkles, a mask, and a thin string running down his smooth, tight ass, which tensed and rippled reflexively with each movement the woman made. As if he was afraid. Noises came from him now and then: whimpers and moans and grunts. He begged and pleaded.

He turned from the scene with a smile on his lips. Spread himself to full span, and shook out. White petals fell from him like a breeze blew leaves on a balmy summer day. His was in the opposite corner - there, by the bed. He walked to her. Dressed in purple she was. Like the other, the red, but with raven black hair and a china porcelain face. Wearing heels, little else. A silken red scarf in hand, she came upon him like an angel, tying it round his neck. A little tight, but gentle. Taking the loose end, she led him to the bed, and he followed. Down. On his back. Soft mattress. She had one hand , then the other, straddling his chest as she worked. He admired her - firm large breasts, thin waist, smooth rounded hips, thighs like iron. Strong. Delicate. The contrast sent his head falling back to the feathered pillows he found behind him. His eyes shut as he felt the cold steel of cuffs clamping around his wrists. Tied to the four-poster.

Turning his head to either side, he saw two men. Not like the boy, these. These were Sirs, not Thank You's. Or maybe both but certainly not tonight. He recognized the hulikng, gleaming, powerful steel frame of the behemoth to his right. Silent and still he stood. Looking straight forward. Hard leather straps clamped around thickly corded biceps. The chest was bare down to the waist, where the gleaming frame was open at the center, the heavy thighs and leaden calves covered by chaps. His manhood hung thick, strong and heavy, inches down from his groin.

The other one, on his left, was clad nearly completely in leather. He wore thigh straps and riding spurs, hard riding boots, a leather jacket, an officer's hat studded with metal spikes, and a mask criss-crossed with studs. His manhood was clamped with a leather cord, making it bulge thick and hard. Not as large as the Behemoth, but just as imposing. Silent. His eyes were covered with blood red goggles, with the mask wrapped tightly around them, it gave off an almost alien quality that was tantalizingly disqueiting.

The Purple Mistress had cuffed him and now was pulling out a wicked looking three-pronged snapper with a 7-inch butt. He closed his eyes and begged her for mercy. She obliged and began whipping him lightly across his chest and shoulders, interspersing it with silken kisses before taunting him.

"You be a good little angel, this night," she whispered in his ear, "and maybe I'll tell Bloddy to be nice you you."

"Yes," he moaned back. The thought of the red one disciplining him made him ache between his thighs.

"Down!" she yelled and gave him a wickedly delightful slap. He moaned more.

"Yes, Other. Only for you. No other. Only you. Yes. Please."

He went into a stream of babble that she ended with another slap. He opened his eyes and looked at her smooth face. She wore a red smile.


"Heel!" she yelled at the dog, and drove her heel into his back to make the point. She heard the Other shout to her charge at the same time and smiled to herself. The Blond Dog whimpered but begged her to go on. She put out a hand, letting him slack for a moment, and cracked her thin whip. Perhaps not as ornate as the Other's, but more effective - much more. She turned her head at the sound of a jingle. "How nice of you to join us Doctor."

The Doctor came in, a black collar around his neck - naked otherwise. A single bell tinkled as he moved. His huge, loping strides and heavy muscles rippling, a manhood as thick as the Behemoths and even longer swaying with each step, but getting firmer she could tell. He liked the Blond Dog. Liked him a lot. Would never tell her but she could read his mind, she didn't need to be told.

"My Lady," he answered. "I am here to serve. What is your command?"

So polite and formal, he was. She liked their sessions. He had different methods but was no less feral for his kind words. Besides, she secretly enjoyed watching him examine his charges.

"You're ready," she observed with a smile. He returned one of his own, sharp incisors gleaming surreally in the candlelight and haze. "I love watching you work, Doctor. Go to it." To the Dog, she leaned down near his ear and whispered: "Be a good puppy for the Doctor. He could get very anif yif you don't obey him and let him do as he pleases. I'm sure he'll be extra rough on you if you give it a little extra push, though."


He felt large, smooth hands grasp his hips and pull away the constrictive thong that had bound him.

"Oh god, oh god oh god oh god YES," he whimperd to the Doctor.

"Quiet, now," the man said in his deep, soft bass.

"Oh god, yes, talk to me, please? Talk. Talk."

"Don't tell the Doctor what to do, Dog! He tells you! And only then may you speak!" A snapping crack came with the woman's words and he recoiled, pushing himself into the hardness behind him. Soft fur greeted his thighs and scrotum as he pushed into the hulking muscled mass that the the Doctor.

"Do you like my voice?" the man asked him.

"Yes ... yes ... Yessssss ... oh yeah I love it. I LOVE IT!" he shouted. He couldn't help it. He wanted the man, wanted the beast inside him. This time no admonishment came from the woman. Instead he bit his lip and saw his own saliva dribble onto the floor, through the 8 millimeter lens of his vision - he drooled in anticipation and pleasure.

Then it was in him and he screamed.

Hard, fast, thick, it pushed. It pulsed and vibrated and he was electrically alive as he was never ever alive in any other way. The bell jingled with each powerful piston thrust.


The Dog's ass was powerfully tight and silken smooth as he slid the Beast into him, injecting him with the Doctor's life. He pounded ferally, gripping the boy's hips. He growled and groaned. The Red Mistress had left him for the Behemoth. The Purple was occupied with the Angel. Bloody stood stone still but a hand had dropped to his manhood and began to slightly stroke it while he watched the Doctor play with his Dog.

"Smooth, so smooth," he moaned. "Give ... me ... give it ... to me ... let ... me ... FUCK ... ahhhhhhhh!"

He growled past the urge to explode, already on him. The Dog was bucking againim, im, matting his fur with sweat and lube. He looked down and watched his own tool do its work. In and out. So slick. So smooth was the inside.

He put one large hand on the floor next to them, and put the other one beneath the Dog's stubble covered chin, yanking it up while he pounded into the boy.

"Come on, give it to me!"

"Yes, yes, yes ... oh god yes ... mmmmMMMMMMM oh ah ohhhhh AH mmm," the whimpers came.

He licked the sweat from the boy's back, then scraped his nails down it, all the while increasing his rhythm.


She looked down at the Angel, he flapped his wings in anxious and unconscious anticipation of pleasure. Out came the whip cream, out came the chocolate, out came the cherries. The Dog would need his dinner soon, from the looks of things over there. She turned back to regard the Angel with a small seductive, wicked grin playing on her lips.

"A cherry for you," she said. "Red as my lips. But no ry fry for me. You've got yours." She popped a cherry into his mouth and he slowly chewed it, the redjuice running down the sides of his cheeks and ningning them pink streeks. "And how about some cream to help the sweetness?" She drew ornate designs each of his nipples, letting her fingers run over his smooth pecs and tight abdomen. She topped each one with a cherry. She slid herself down him, letting his manhood get a taste of her juices for just a moment, and then she trickled chocoalte in zigzag down his chest, over his ridged stomach, but stopping before the candy. "Such a perfectly exquisite dessert," she said breathlessly to herself.

She sat back for a moment and dragged her heel through the chocolate, smearing it all over his naked skin, and then ordered him to suck it from her boot. "Lick," she commanded. He did, running his cherry-red tongue around the purple heel.

Then she got off the bed, not anting him to enjoy himself too much just yet, and looked over to the Doctor's work. Not done yet. Bloody stood behind her and to the side. She turned to him and put an arm on his leather clad shoulder. It squeaked in contact with the smooth skin. She ran a hand up his shaft, feeling how stiff he was.

"Enjoying yourself with the little show, eh?"

He said nothing, but t he he never did.

"I want you to show the Angel here what a good leader you are. He deserves a reward."


The warm tongue on his tight scrotum felt like heaven. He had positioned himself over the man's face so that there was no choice for him except to eat. That or not breathe. With each lick, he would back away, allowing the man to take in breath, then he would be on him again. He put his spiked cuffs to either side of his head, so he couldn't turn aside - only eat. The Other was behind him, rubbing her breasts on his neck, putting leather to leather. She slapped her whip to his back now and then, or the Angel's thighs. He liked when she did that. The Angel would buck and moan and drive his face into his groin, tongue going everywhere it could. Bloody would rub to Purple, when that happened. His enjoyment was only heightened by the scene next to them.


She walked up to him, whip flicking like a cat's tail, and gripped him by his cock, hard. She stroked the hot metal with her fingertips and nails, feeling him grow to full height. He wasn't called the Behemoth for no reason. She rested the other hand on his steel chest. Glossy shined eyes of silver stared out at her from the slits in the black mask. He didn't move, didn't twitch his lips.

"I've got something for you," she said with a secret smile. "It's just over here."


The crack of a whip and the voice of Purple brought him to abrupt attention. The leash at his neck which had hung loose was taken up again. He felt himself sag a little as the Doctor pulled his beast out of him - accompanied by a groan of satisfaction.

"Dog - it's time for your dessert. Here."

He couldn't muc much but he was being led along the floor to the big four-poster. The butt-end of the whip smacked the back of his skull and then his neck yan yanked up so his eyes could see forward - the butt was pointed at an erect cock, all blue, surrounded by neatly trimmed golden blond hair, and a smooth-shaven scrotum. "Lick," was the simple but stern command. "All of it."

He did. In front of his eyes he saw the back of Bloody, who was grunting and thrusting his hips slightly. The Angel's wings were flapping haphazardly, twitching in pleasure. Suddenly a new form appeared in front of him as well, positioningelf elf behind Bloody. Behemoth's steel frame blocked out his sight.


He entered the Leather Man with one hard thrust. Steel met flesh. He put both his bear arms around the smaller man, and kissed his neck, the only exposed flesh on the body. He felt the man stiffen for a moment and grunt hard, exhaling a breath as he felt the hteelteel slam into his insides.


Between the sensations of Bloody shoving his cock down his throat, and Blond Dog lapping between his legs, not to mention feeling Behemoth's massive steel thighs clamped tight around his torso, the Angel could hardly contain himself. He moaned through a mouthful of warm cock and squirmed against the cuffs. It was all he could do not to explode when he saw Purple lean over him.


She opened her thighs, and lowered herslef down, right above his eyes, then pressed down and against the cock he swallowed. Bloody's cock rubbed her in just the right place ... stroking her to maximum pleasure. Combined withe the heat of the Angel's mouth and face just below her, and his breath on her with every other thrust that Bloody gave, she felt feint.


"Here, Doctor," you seem a little more rejuvented now. Not spent, I hope?"

A reassurring shake of the head a jingle ler ker know. She smiled.


She slowly inserted the butt-end of her whip into the Dog's ass, still slick with lube from before. She put out a delicate hand and beckoned to the Doctor without looking. He got down on his hind legs to examine the process in detail.

"You're going to do this," she told him. "With that big blue dick of yours."

He nodded his assent and rose. She turned an affectionate eye to him and put her hand around his neck as she pulled him close so ther her ruby lips tickled his ear and it flicked as she spoke. This was one of his cute habits that she only could enjoy during these sessions. "Make sure you bend over him.u'ru're going to talk to him while you fuck him - and I';m going to ride you. Fuck him well - you'll be doing it for me, too - Doctor." She had almost misspoke. Not yet. Not until she wsa ready. Until they all were.

She turned away and slowly removed her whip's end from the moaning Dog. Hank took her place as she stepped aside.th ath a roar so feral she could hardly believe it was the same man making the sound, he slammed into his charge and brought out a shout from the other end.


Feeling himself enter his friend was almost too much. He bent low and pounded hard, and fast. Short thrusts. His furred biceps pressed to the side of the Dog, his chest, fur warmed with the heat of passion, grinded to the slick back below him. He pushed his cock in and out, in and out, all the while whispering to the Dog, who couldn't talk back for the cock in his mouth. All around him were scents and smells and sounds. He rose to a height so high he couldn't control himself. He felt his cock grow as hard as a tree trunk.


She mounted him. The leather was off and she rode his back like a stallion, legs locked around his huge barrel chest, fingers gripping the fur on the back of his neck. His hard, poul tul thrusts were arching his back at a fast pace, and she was open to the sensation. She felt the muscles in his back tense and cord with each motion, and they massaged her lips and her hard pink flesh. She moaned.


"My leader," was al he could manage to say, in his thick Russian accent.


Her lips were on his, her face and hair in his. He could feel her soaking him, drenching the Angel. She moaned louder and louder. Inside him, the hard steel of the Behemoth pushed deeper and deeper, and then suddenly it was steel no longer - but flesh, though harder than any flesh should be. The arms holding him were slick with heat and sweat. He couldn't hold it.


She exploded onto him with a heady cry of "Warren!"


Feeling her cum all over him drive him over the edge. He came inot the Dog's mouth just as Bloody came into his own and she came - all at once. He moaned. The triple orgasm seemed to last forever. Finally he managed enough room to moan her name. "Betsy," he breathed out through flushed and wet cheeks.


The two of them and he had come all at once. She had pulled away from him at the last second to utter his name, but Behemoth was still pounding into him, naked and hot, calling him leader. making him hotter than he thought was possible with the appelation. His wife was behind him, moaning loudly as she rode on her animal. He could feel her in his mind.

"uh ...oh ... aww ... OHHHH ... oh YEAH ..." he finally shouted. "Oh FUCK YEAH!" He yelled as he shot his load into the hot mouth of the Angel beneath him. "FUCK ME PETE - FUCK ME HARD RUSSIAN! DON'T STOP TILL YOU CUM!" And the silence was ended.


The Behemoth couldn't contain himself - at his leader's words, he totally gave in and let out a primal, deep gutteral sound as he ejacualted deep inside the man. He gripped him tight in his arms and whispered into his ear: "You can lead me into battle anytime, Scott - I'll always protect my leader."


She rode him hard, feeling his movement like a tidal wave coming over her. She used her whip and snapped at the ground. The others were all in the throes of passion. She couldn't see straight - the air was a haze - the only sounds in her ears were the Doctor's growls and the moans of the Dog. Everyone else had joined in a seemingly simultaneous chorus of shouting and moaning.

Finally, she felt her arms grow heavy and her body start to sag and shudder. She thought she might fall off - she clamped her thighs around the furred torso beneath her and screamed as her life poured out of her and soaked the hot backside of Henry McCoy. She collapsed onto him.


"Oh god oh god oh god oh god ..." in an incoherent jumble of pleasure and sound. He was over the edge. The Angel had cum in a torrent and he'd swallowed it all, like a good Dog should, but now the only feeling in his body was the pounding at his ass - the incessant, monstrous roar of pure power that was his best friend, the one he desired more than any other. The one he might never have in any other way. If this was it ...

He shouted out as he suddenly felt the Doctor's hand come under him and milk his cock.

"Do it for me," the voice said. That deep, soft, gentle and powerful voice.

"Yes ... god yes ... oh please ... oh ..." And it came out of him like a volcano erupting. He let out a moan of emotion and pleasure - but only one word could he form in his mind and send to his lips. Just one. "Ohhhhhhhhh ... mmmmm ... ohhhh ... ah ... yeah ... yes ... yes I want you ... you ... Hank."


He bit the neck of the Dog, lightly. He was lost in the piston rhythm of his thrusting, but could feel the hot semen from the cock in his oversized hand.

"I love you, Bobby."

There really was nothing else to say. He couldn't ever put the pleasure - the emotion he felt - into words. So he didn't try. The look he got from his friend was the only thing he needed to send his seed pounding into ... into ... into the man he cared so much for but could never explain why. Not the Dog. The man he loved. Loved.


And that was it. Until another day. The man laid back in his chair, having spent himself. Sometimes, it was fun being headmaster. The possibilities of a teacher's students were endless, after all. They just needed a little guidance and direction.


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