Message-ID: <13402eli$9807261134@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: pjurado@aol.com (PJurado) Subject: (PJ) Mind Games (M/f, consent; F/f,nc) (1/?) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <1998072605125100.BAA12353@ladder01.news.aol.com> Mind Games by PJ Note: This is the sequel to "Dark Phoenix". Chapter 1 Jean Grey gasped for air as she humped the fat trucker lying prone beneath her. The young woman's long red-gold hair lay splayed across her glistening back like a fiery cloak, the thick locks dripping with perspiration. The unshaven trucker grasped and squeezed Jean's perfect tits crudely, while Jean supported herself with her hands pressed against her john's flabby chest. She felt the man's thick cock in her pussy, ramming deep into her warm belly. Jean tilted her face upwards, panting with each thrust of her crotch. The trucker moved his hands from Jean's bobbing breasts to her tight ass, squeezing her curvaceous buttocks. He pried her ass cheeks apart, which spread the lips of her labia wider for his throbbing pole. Jean pumped her hips back and forth until her client groaned and shot his load into her cunt. Jean climbed off the panting fat man, wiping his sticky white cum from her pussy lips. "You're one damn good fuck!" wheezed the trucker before he staggered out of bed to put on his filthy clothes. "Thanks," murmured Jean, taking a liquor bottle from the night table and sucking down a large gulp. The warm liquor burned the taste of semen from Jean's mouth, then it slid down to her belly, loosening the tight knot in her stomach. Slapping Jean's bare ass playfully, the trucker left the hotel room, swaggering proudly. Jean glanced at the disheveled, sweat-soaked sheets, then collapsed into a nearby chair. She drank deeply from the bottle again, until her brain became numb and her vision blurred. "So this is how the better half lives," remarked a feminine voice from the shadows. Jean shot up to her feet before falling ungracefully back down. She held onto one of the chair's arms for support, searching the darkened room with her glazed green eyes. A female shape emerged from a corner of the room, dressed in a white brazier, g-string panties, high leather boots, and a flowing white fur-lined cloak. The woman ran a white gloved hand through her short pale blonde hair, grinning sardonically at the naked girl before her. "Emma Frost," growled Jean, reclining back into her chair. "What do you want?" "Feeling a bit powerless, are we?" observed Emma, walking slowly to the far side of the bed. "Haven't you scanned me yet?" "I have, and imagine my surprise when I slipped into your thoughts without any trouble at all. Your mind should be a fortress if you still wielded the Power Cosmic." "It's gone. I lost it," admitted Jean, gulping from her bottle again. "Your dark side cast you off like a cheap coat and went away to better hunting grounds, what a shame!" mocked Emma, hands resting on shapely hips. "Is there a point to your visit or are you just going to torment me?" shouted Jean angrily. "Touchy, aren't we?" tisked Emma reproachfully. "I came to offer you hope." "Hope?" snorted Jean scornfully, gesturing at her surroundings, "what hope do you see here?" "It lies within your mind. A portion of your power still exists, not the Power Cosmic, but the mutant ability you possessed before your transformation. I can free it for you." "Why would you help me?" "A great cataclysm is approaching. Soon I will be the only mutant power on Earth, but I'll need a partner, someone to help me keep the mundanes in line. You could be my right hand." "You're insane," muttered Jean, emptying her bottle. "Then why don't you join me, unless you prefer fucking fat slobs for fifty bucks a pop," retorted Emma sharply. Jean jumped to her feet, facing Emma from across the bed. She glared hatefully at the blonde woman, causing Emma to smile. "Yes, embrace your hatred. Together we will rule this planet. We'll pit armies against each other like chess pieces. We'll take our due of pain, and wash our hands in blood! Join me, Black Queen!" Jean jerked away from Emma, who now stood next to her left arm, her breath hot on the naked girl's neck. "That's not my name anymore," whispered Jean. "But inside it is nevertheless who you are!" exclaimed the White Queen before she disappeared into the shadows again. Jean searched the corner where Emma had stood, but she knew that she would find nothing, the White Queen had clouded her mind with her telepathic powers. The naked girl sat heavily on the edge of her bed, pressing her hands against her face, crying painfully with loss. Jean left the hotel room the next morning, to find two white vans sitting in the parking lot waiting for her. The side doors of the vans slid open, disgorging blue-suited mercenaries in featureless white masks. Two troopers grabbed each of Jean's arms, dragging her towards one of the waiting vans. When Jean tried to scream, one soldier stabbed a needle into her arm, injecting something into her body. Jean became disoriented, her vision swam and her limbs grew limp as she was herded into the back of a van and driven away. Elizabeth Braddock stood in the crowded waiting room of the airport until a black woman with long silver hair walked up to her. "Finally! I thought I'd be waiting forever!" smiled Elizabeth. "I was delayed. We don't have much time." Elizabeth frowned, following Storm to a waiting limousine. When the two women had climbed in, the car shot off into the airport's tangled traffic. "Cerebro detected a mutant presence near the last documented sighting of Dark Phoenix. We haven't been able to find Jean for several days, and Scott believes that you might have better luck finding her." "Who's signature was detected by Cerebro?" "The White Queen. Jean had an encounter with her before the whole business with the Hellfire Club started. If the White Queen is in the area, she's probably looking for Jean too, for who knows what horrible reason." "I see," replied Elizabeth softly. "I'll do my best." "We'll go to the Mansion briefly to give you whatever you need for your search, then you can take a car and start looking for Jean." "I'll find her," promised Elizabeth confidently. Jean's head cleared slowly as she opened her eyes. She glanced down at her naked body, then turned her head to take in the steel manacles that held her arms out and apart. She was bound to a metal x frame within a large, well-equipped laboratory. Red-gold hair fell across her breasts, giving her a small degree of modesty from the masked technicians who operated consoles from a booth across from her on the far side of the room. The White Queen stood behind the technicians, smiling maliciously at her captured victim. "What level should we start from?" asked the head operator. "Level three I think," replied Emma. A metal circlet slid from behind Jean's head and clicked shut across her brow. Two thick pincers closed on either side of Jean's neck, holding her head in place. Jean's breasts heaved violently, she gasped desperately for breath. The shock came from nowhere, making Jean writhe in her bonds. "I don't do this for pleasure, although it is rather enjoyable to watch," chuckled the White Queen huskily. "The pain will break the inhibitor blocks you've unconsciously placed around your powers. When the blocks are destroyed, you'll be whole again. It will go faster if you don't resist." Jean screamed defiantly at the White Queen until the shock came again, stronger this time. Tears slid down Jean's cheeks as she endured shock after agonizing shock. She sobbed weakly, her arms limp in her confining wrist bonds. "Activate the probe," ordered Emma with a gleam of relish in her eyes. A metallic shaft of metal rolled forward, straight for Jean's pussy. Jean stared at it in horror, helpless as it pressed softly against the lips of her cunt. Without warning, the shaft began pumping back and forth, shoving deep into Jean's vagina. Jean shouted in denial, her pussy aching as the unforgiving pole shifted in and out of her cunt. "Put it on automatic and leave," commanded the White Queen. The technicians complied, leaving the booth to perform other duties. Emma waited for the hirelings to leave, then untied her white brazier. Bare breasted, the White Queen licked her red lips as she left the booth and walked to the frame that held Jean. The naked girl gasped softly, her lips trembling as the metal probe rammed mechanically into her pussy. Gentle shocks made Jean jerk in her restraints, pain mixing with sensual pleasure. "You look so beautiful," murmured the White Queen, cupping Jean's left tit, caressing it with her gloved hand. She leaned forward to lick Jean's nipple, biting it until it quivered with arousal. Emma ran her tongue across the firm mound of flesh, circling the pink bud with a trail of saliva. "Please..stop," begged Jean, fresh tears forming in her eyes. "I want you to be with me, I want my Black Queen," whispered Emma into Jean's ear before she inserted her tongue inside. Jean moaned softly, her pussy becoming wet. "Your skin is becoming hot," purred Emma, kissing Jean briefly on the mouth, then moving to the girl's right breast. Jean's thighs began to loosen, her cunt started to tremble with lust. The shocks to Jean's brain faded away, only the loud grinding of the metal shaft assaulted Jean's senses. The pole shoved deeply into her womb, it filled her clenching vagina, rubbing her tunnel's pink walls until they were slick with her juices. The White Queen sucked firmly on Jean's heaving breasts, devouring the soft orbs with her sensual mouth. When Emma sensed Jean about to climax, she took off her right glove and laid her hand upon Jean's moist brow. "Release your power!" ordered Emma, sending a powerful psi-bolt into Jean's mind. Jean screamed in agony, her brain on fire from the mental blast. Driving through southern New York state, Elizabeth Braddock veered off the road as a spike of pain rammed into her mind. She slid the car to a stop, breathing heavily. Elizabeth heard the mental scream that roared across the countryside heralding the birth of a telepath, a strong telepath. The metal shaft ground to a halt. Emma unfastened the frame's metal restraints, catching Jean as she fell limply from her bonds. Jean leaned against Emma heavily for several moments, then straightened up on her own two feet. "Are you alright?" inquired the White Queen. "Aye, I am very well, indeed," smiled the Black Queen, her green eyes smoldering with lust. ************************* -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----