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Booth X-001	By : salarta Category: X-men Comics > General Views: 7913 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men or Marvel properties, its characters or any ideas or concepts contained herein. This story is a mere fan-made work, and I make no money or profit from its creation and dissemination.

Chapter List
- 1-Booth X-001
- 1
First, there was Mojoworld. Then, Murderworld. Across dimensions, throughout time, countless species gloried in violence. They lived for the kill, lived to see spines arms severed and heads cut off with wild sprays of blood. Borne from the lowest in low cultures, the Spineless Ones fed off every decadent ray carelessly cast from human worlds. What started as a loathsome assault on their poor ancestors turned into a raw, filthy need, one that only humans could quench.

But there were other needs. Less gruesome, less deadly, but horrid all the same. Decades of sleaze roiled through the Spineless Ones' brains. They needed more, more, still more... and they found it, in a man widely known by one name. Arcade.

It took months to build Arcade's new playground. Smutworld. Haunted houses, battlegrounds, Xavier's school, a range of themes and games provided many new and wild kinks. Between his machinations and defenses granted by the Spineless Ones, Arcade ruled this lust-fueled land besides His Most Corpulent with a wide grin and iron fist.

But, as with all great new enterprises, they needed buzz. Word of mouth. A tiny sample of what their Smutworld had to offer.

Luckily, his agents hauled in the perfect catch.

***

"Uhn. Uhhhh-uhn," Lorna Dane - Polaris - grunted. She poured all her strength into tugging on the collar around her neck, every chance she got. This time looked promising too, not like all those false starts during today's peak hours. She could feel a little air on her skin for the first time since she received the goddamn collar.

Her sister Wanda Maximoff, the infamous Scarlet Witch, didn't share her optimism. "Don't you get it yet? They know who we are and what we can do. We need to come up with a different plan."

"Like hell we do. If I can just... get... this collar off, I can fry the security with an EMP and-"

Lorna's cape popped loose from the rings over her shoulders. Without the long, flowy green cloth as a counterweight, her breastplate fell to the ground with a loud clatter. She froze, wide-eyed, staring at her boobs as they rose and vibrated in the air. She knew what it meant when they jiggled about with wild abandon, her emerald electric power signature sparking off her barbell piercings. They were here.

She struck a horrified glance toward the booth window. "Oh no. No. Not agaaaaain!"

Her protests mattered little. In a matter of seconds, she sailed across the room and slammed against a window. The slow creep of her skin sinking against cold, cold glass made her breasts look much paler, a shade more fitting for the Horseman Pestilence than a fallen Mistress of Magnetism. A deep, guttural sigh of defeat escaped Lorna Dane's lips just as the wasp-stinger stiffness of her nipples retreated into her flattened aureoles. She gave in, gave up fighting her magnetized bracers for control over her own wrists and stared down at the man currently drinking in the lines and curves of her naked chest.

"Damn, this one has some fine tits. I can see why they bumped up the price."

"C'mon Biggs, you really think those small things are worth 20 bucks a minute?" Wedge flicked the air. A flare of light from the helmet he wore came with a sudden sharp tug on Lorna's piercings, bringing an erotic pulse across her chest and a moan from a pretty little mouth currently fogging up their view. "It's supply and demand, man. Some company stopped makin' comics about these two because Arcade wouldn't cut a deal with 'em, now everyone's flockin' to Smutworld to get a piece of somethin' they can't get anywhere else."

Biggs shrugged. "Ah well. Guess it's better to pay extra than get nothin' at a- HOLY SHIT!"

He jumped as Wanda smashed into the window. The sheer concussive force of her ass left cracks around its big, round point of impact. Normally, Smutworld would have sent out an alert and shut down the booth while top women rushed to the scene for repairs. Advances in Smutworld technology showed themselves as the damage fixed itself. Clean, clear, only the sight of Wanda's pressed cheeks remained.

Every inch of pane became a canvas for Wanda's sweaty ass prints smearing it up. The piece of art in the making came with a soundtrack of loud squeaking where her flesh rubbed, with an accompaniment of moans she tried to muffle while the cool surface teased her bare sex. Under Wedge's guidance, Wanda's exposed pussy and tight end became a virtuoso performance of sleaze and tease.

"Ohhhhh..." Lorna huffed. The constant buzz between her legs defeated her attempts to give the man an intimidating glare. A click, feedback and booming voice from room speakers added to the onslaught of discouraging sensations.

"Polaris and Scarlet Witch were captured on the 17th of September, 2014."

The damned machine wouldn't stop reminding her, over and over, how they wound in this hellhole. In hour one, she ignored it. Hour two, she wailed as loud as she could to avoid having to hear its droning spiel for the umpteenth time. By now, she let the system run its course, drilling the one big mistake of her life deeper into her head.

"An Omega level mutant, Scarlet Witch poses significant risk. Under ordinary circumstances, Smutworld would not be able to capture her. Luckily, Smutworld found an opportune moment to strike when her sister Polaris drugged her with copious amounts of alcohol. Once the Scarlet Witch was sufficiently impaired, Smutworld agents subdued the pair and attached Inhibitor-Transfer Collars."

The collars glowed purple on the sisters, as if to take a bow for their role in subduing them for public use. Lorna seethed at this, gritting her teeth as the metal mocked her repeated failures to exercise the most rudimentary of her magnetic skills. Smutworld didn't truly own her, nor did its clients. It was the collar. The collar owned her, controlled abilities she always took such pride in and deemed her unworthy of her own gifts. Locked away from her birthright, she suffered through the men who paid for the right to show her how to 'properly' use her lost powers with her plaything body.

"Modeled off an earlier model limited to mutants, these collars seal the powers of their wearers and transfer them into Smutworld's control helmets. We hope you enjoy the opportunity to manipulate and alter Polaris and Scarlet Witch to fill your deepest desires."

"Alter?" Biggs said.

Oh no, Wanda thought. They knew. She could feel her ass plumping, her pussy aching and sopping with a fresh and entirely unwanted surge of arousal. This was the part where their clients enjoyed modifying their bodies into fetish fuel and gross hypersexual caricatures. In the span of five hours, she'd been a cheerleader, a bimbo, a horse-cocked futa, and she didn't even want to think of the things they'd done to Lorna... or made her do.

Unlike so many other men, Biggs and Wedge stopped at simpler desires: bigger boobs, bigger butts and raging sex drives. But then, like so many other men, Wedge pushed her away from the glass and sent her toward the only other hot body in the booth.

Lorna and Wanda's lips locked - literally. The poles of their lipstick shifted, binding their warm wet mouths together in a magnetic seal. Nail polish, tongue studs, hair spray, Smutworld brand tattoos, anything and everything received a dose of microscopic metal flecks for clients to use in acting out fantasies they had for the Magnus sisters.

Red and green smeared as they made out. Rolling, twisting rubbing, flicking, the flavor of a whole day's work eating each other out danced alongside the sloppy rhythm of their tongues. Lorna tasted her tarty sister and tangy self, far cries from the sugar and spice their last clients imagined and altered their wetness to be.

Her mind couldn't take it. The kink, the raw disgusting kink they buried inside her mind, rocked her loins. Electric lust crackled from her poor mewling quim. Quaking, gushing, it couldn't stand Wanda's touch or the charge left in her vibrating clit ring.

Their lips broke free. Lorna whipped her head back. She gasped. She moaned. "Ooooh god. Wanda. You. I. I..."

"Don't... talk. You're turning me on."

Every little inflection, wheeze and grunt from her sister sent the Scarlet Witch's tits into a carnal frenzy. Her twin peaks sparkled red, slick and slippery with hours of Lorna's all-natural, all-mutant lube. The lightest pinch of her nipples felt like a minefield of mini-orgasms exploding pinkness across her chest. Her heart race, as Lorna's constant mauling set darker, depraved passions inside her to a boil.

"Warning, one minute remaining," the booth system chimed.

"Hey Biggs, what d'you say we give these two a good send-off?"

The sisters moaned into each other's mouths. They were close, in more ways than one. Nails raked across back flesh, each gripping onto something, anything, as their clients drove their ragged bodies toward climax. Their pussies felt like as much of a blurring mess as their minds. Chins on shoulders, their arms squeezed them into a tighter boob-smushing embrace. Ecstasy edged nearer to consume their lingering hang-ups over genes and social norms.

In the throes of passion, the world's thoughts and feelings about them lost all meaning. The true source of their feelings, whether the manipulations of these perverted freaks or their own yearning hearts, no longer plagued their thoughts with horror. What they had transcended society, culture and control. They were bound. Deeper than friends, beyond blood, Lorna barely felt her verdant hair weave into braids with Wanda's chestnut locks as they shuddered and came as something more: lovers.

The booth systems powered down, leaving two naked sisters behind as a bundle of steamy, sweaty sex. A red glimmer erupted over their forms. Their augmentations regressed, returning them to normal brains, normal busts, restored bodies exposed to the aftershock ripples of their final round for the day.

"I'm sorry I got us caught ... sis," said a panting Lorna.

"It's okay. You didn't know about these bastards."

Instruments above them whirred to life. Feeding time. The device lowered from the ceiling with its many clicks and grinds. Their feeders drooped into position. Cocks. See-through, dangly dildos. A light pulsed from red to green at their base and drew the sisters in. Their lips sizzled into place on the warm, throbbing, floppy lengths - Lorna's longer, Wanda's wider, both fat and veiny.

Then, they sucked. In front of a wall of spectators watching and snapping pictures on the other side of the glass, Lorna and Wanda bobbed their heads and pumped the phalli toward releasing their loads of Smutworld spunk. For added insult to injury, graphs behind them charted their progress - a scoreboard, announcing how fast, hard and sensuous they could be when presented with a good dick.

We're getting out of here some day, together, and when we do, Wanda's eyes lit red, We'll make them pay.
- 1
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Booth X-001