Before reading this story, please read through the following points - or if
you don't, then don't come whining to me afterwards.

1. The characters described in this story are owned by Marvel, and are used
here solely for the purpose of parody. I do not own them, I do not claim to
own them, and I make no money from these stories. Get over it, it's just a

2. This is a sex story for grown-ups. Kids: don't read this, you'll go blind.
For all of you who are of legal age, if you think you might possibly be
offended by reading about any fucked-up & perverted sexual activity it's
probably best that you don't read on (and also that you reconsider the types
of website you visit).

3. I am a sick and twisted individual. I know this about myself, and do not
need anyone else to tell me. If, however, any of you out there actually like
this shit, I would love to hear from you. Positive feedback (including
constructive criticism) can be sent to [email protected] Negative
feedback can be sent where the sun don't shine.

Thank you.

Got that, everyone? Good. Then let's begin...

* * *

Author's note: This story takes place in no strictly-defined X-Men universe,
but is instead set in a world composed of a number of my favourite
characters/elements/events from X-Men comics throughout the years. It is
certainly not in continuity, so please do not be concerned over apparent
inconsistencies with existing X-history. Any significant differences to
established plots or characters will be described and explained as they

Uncanny X-Men: Phoenix Forced Part 2 - Ambushed (FF,inc,BDSM,ncon)
by the Bizz

+++ Identifying... Confirmed. Enter, Jean Grey +++

With the DNA scan complete, the electronic lock de-activated and the smooth
metal door slid open. The woman stepped inside, prompting the door to slide
quickly shut behind her.

Jean Grey stood in her bedchamber and sighed. It had been a long day of
training, and she was frankly exhausted. Her already form-hugging costume was
slicked-down with sweat so that it now clung even more tightly to her skin.
If it wasn't for the golden sash round her midriff and the visible lines
where her long boots and gloves began, any onlooker could easily have
mistaken her costume for body-paint. Either that or, given the diverse
appearances of mutantkind, thought that her skin was naturally this shade of

As she walked over to the bed, Jean pondered her choice of costume. Just
recently she had resumed wearing her green and gold Phoenix costume. The
decision had caused quite a stir with her fellow X-Men at first - not
surprising really, since the last being to wear it wasn't really Jean at
all, but the cosmic entity known as the Phoenix force. The Phoenix had
stolen Jean's appearance, identity, even part of her soul, and had almost
gone on to destroy the entire universe. Understandably, the X-Men were
alarmed at seeing that image again. Jean couldn't help it though, she just
had an overwhelming desire to wear it, just as she did to spend more and
more time thinking about that enigmatic entity and its influence on her
life. The strangest thing was that she still felt close to the Phoenix,
and almost even held an affection for it, in spite of everything it had
done to Jean and her friends.

Casting these confusing thoughts aside for the moment, she stretched, and
ran her fingers through her mane of crimson hair. The sweat had caused Jean's
normally carefully-styled curls to become tangled and matted. She frowned.
Perhaps a shower was in order.

Slowly peeling her shoulder-length gloves from her tired arms, she cast them
onto the bed. Then, bending at the waist, she reached down to remove her
thigh-boots. The action caused her costume to become even more tightly
stretched across her perfectly-honed body. The twin spheres of her ass-cheeks
strained against the thin material, stretching it to the point where it
almost became translucent. From behind, tucked beneath her firm, round
buttocks, Jean's pussy lips were clearly visible through the fabric. The
material was pulled across her crotch so forcefully that it cut deep into her
pussy, dividing her cuntlips and making them stand out prominently. Although
Jean would never consciously admit it to herself, she loved the restrictive
tightness of her costume, and tingled with pleasure where it bit into her
soft, yielding flesh. As she finished removing her boots, she wiggled her ass
ever so slightly, relishing the feel of the fabric slicing further into her
slit and tugging at her hardening clitoris. Of course, she would never
confess to doing this on purpose or even enjoying the effect, despite the
patch of sticky dampness that began to spread from her tortured crotch. She
would certainly never have even done it if she knew that she was currently
being observed...

Jean straightened up, her face flushed with more than just the exertion. As
her breasts bobbed responsively to her movements she noticed that her
self-indulgent behaviour had caused her nipples to harden slightly, so that
they now stood out, pressing against the Phoenix symbol that was stretched
across her well-endowed chest. Jean slowly cupped her breasts, spreading her
fingers wide to encompass their full, heavy, roundness. She was proud of her
assets in that area, and rightly so. Sure, they weren't quite as big as some
of her team-mates', and she couldn't lactate on demand like certain other
mutants she'd heard about, but nevertheless they were a very impressive set
of tits. Considerably larger than an average woman's, they would have looked
more at home on a pornstar - except that Jean's were 100% natural. The best
thing about them, however, was their shape. Jean's tissue-thin, skin-tight
costume offered no support whatsoever in that area, and yet her boobs never
sagged, not even a little.

They were more pert and firm than most teenagers', a fact which, coupled with
their immense size, made them appear to literally defy gravity. The most
remarkable thing about it was that her titflesh was still soft and tender to
touch, so whatever it was that kept them tilting upwards did not remove any
of their squeezability. Scott had once accused her of using her telekinesis
to keep them in place. Jean had just laughed. Scott... Jean wished that her
lover had come up to bed when she did, but he was still going strong in the
Danger Room. It had been weeks since she and Scott had last made love, and
she ached for him inside. Sometimes Jean resented Scott's devotion to his
duties, especially when it left her this lonely and frustrated. She couldn't
even attend to her own needs, because ever since her relationship with Scott
had become serious she had felt too guilty about masturbating to ever let
herself orgasm without him. She silently cursed herself for thinking about
her body so much and getting herself worked up, because now she had to try to
get to sleep without any kind of release. She frowned in frustration and
annoyance, and resumed undressing, tearing at the knot that held the sash
around her waist. It was then that the attack fell.

Jean had no idea what was happening at first. Her telepathy had detected no
other presence in the room, nor had she seen anyone lurking in the shadows.
Out of nowhere, it seemed, a cold metal object appeared around her neck and
clamped tightly shut with a loud click. She instinctively clawed at mystery
object with her fingernails, trying to dislodge it. She quickly realised it
was a large collar of some sort, and just as quickly reached the conclusion
that she could not remove it. At least, not with her hands. She began to
summon the focus necessary to activate her telekinesis, when she heard a
voice in her mind.

*Don't bother.*

Jean froze, hands still at her throat. That was telepathy, and what's more
she recognised the voice. Rachel?

"That's right, Jean." This time the voice spoke aloud. "It's me, Rachel, your
time-travelling houseguest. And that thing round your neck is one of Beast's
new psi-dampener collars, so like I said, don't bother trying to use your
powers. That is, unless you like having a major migraine."

Jean spun round to face the intruder, and nearly lost her balance in shock.
The face was Rachel, sure enough. But the body... the outfit...

Rachel stood with her legs apart and her hands defiantly planted on her hips.
Jean allowed her astonished gaze to travel down the length of this troubled
young girl's slim body. Rachel was dressed in her typical bright scarlet, but
the choice of clothing was anything but typical. Her slender neck sported a
collar, just like Jean's now did, but unlike Jean Rachel's collar was of red
leather, with sharp metal spikes protruding several inches from it in all
directions. Lower down, Rachel's neck, shoulders and most of her bust was
naked, the creamy flesh exposed to the air. Covering her nipples (only just!)
and continuing down to her hips was the smallest red leather corset Jean had
ever seen. It pinched Rachel's already narrow waist in even further, and
forced her ample breasts to bulge out of the top, creating a mound of deep
cleavage. Rachel's breasts were not quite as large as Jean's (although she
was still developing) yet even so the way they spilled out of the top of
their constricting leather prison made them look enormous.

Slicing into Rachel's hips were the thongs of an impossibly narrow g-string.
At first Jean thought that Rachel must have been wearing it back-to-front, as
the front was barely wider than the thongs. It certainly made it obvious that
Rachel was completely bald in that area - indeed, the skin was so smooth on
her mound that it looked as if it had never even had hair to begin with. The
tiny strap of Rachel's g-string clung to her denuded flesh, travelling
downwards to nestle between her puffy pink pussy-lips. The material was so
snug that it disappeared completely into the folds of her labia, so that her
cunt itself looked as if it was totally naked. Jean also couldn't help but
notice that where the leather vanished into Rachel's slit it was slick with

Tearing her eyes away from the microscopic underwear, Jean took in the
overall image. The outfit was completed by stiletto-heeled thigh boots and
shoulder-length gloves, again in red leather. All in all, Jean thought that
Rachel looked like a very expensive whore.


Pain flashed behind Jean's eyes as the telepathic yell blasted her synapses.

"Be careful what you think, bitch!" Rachel snarled. "I came here to be nice
to you tonight, but it doesn't have to be that way!"

As if to prove her point, Rachel swung a kick at Jean's groin. Jean tried to
defend herself, but found that she was telekinetically pinned in place. The
blow struck home, the sharp point of Rachel's boot stabbing Jean in her most
sensitive area. Only then was Jean's body freed, and she collapsed slowly to
the floor in agony.

"That's better," sneered her attacker, "on your knees where you belong. I
think you should stay there for a while."

Once again, the telekinetic force gripped Jean, pinning her to the ground,
so that she was forced to remain on her knees. Her hands were also held in
place, still clutching her throbbing cunt. Rachel began to slowly pace round
Jean's helpless form.

"You know," she said, "I meant what I said. I did originally plan to be very,
very nice to you." Rachel paused, an inquisitive look on her face. "Sorry,
what was that?" Jean had not spoken. Her mouth was just as paralysed as the
rest of her.

"Oh, you're wondering about the collar," Rachel continued. "Well, I couldn't
be sure that you would be open to my advances - especially once you found out
who I really am."

Jean was hopelessly confused, but had no option other than to sit and listen.

"Incidentally, that's the reason why it was so easy for me to trick the DNA
lock on your room, and after that a simple psi-shield prevented you from
discovering me. Of course, you were so distracted I could have stood in plain
sight you wouldn't have seen me. Something on your mind, huh? What's the
matter," Rachel asked with mock concern, "Man trouble?"

She stopped pacing, and stood directly behind Jean. "Anyway, the more I think
about it - why should I be nice to you? You taunt me and tease me all day
long, wiggling your ass and waving your tits under my nose. As if you don't
know what effect it has when you dress like a slut and then don't put out!
Then at night, you haunt my dreams, forcing me to fuck myself till I wake
screaming - only to have you vanish when I do!"

Rachel's voice was rising, both in pitch and volume. "At first I wanted to
pay you back for all the ecstasy I'd experienced, but maybe what you really
need is payback for the frustration, the suffering and the pain!"

With that, Jean felt her arm hoisted into the air by an invisible force, her
fingers being closed into a fist against her will. Then that fist immediately
crashed downwards again, smashing into her already aching groin. The impact
took Jean's breath away, but she was unable to even reel in pain, held fast
as she was by Rachel's psi-power. Pain pulsed through Jean's crotch, and she
could feel her pussy-lips swelling beneath her costume. Tears began to well
in the corners of her stinging eyes. Why was Rachel doing this?

"You want to know why!?" screamed Rachel, still scanning Jean's thoughts.
"I'll tell you why! For weeks now you've held me in your power. I think it's
about time that you were held in mine!"

Jean felt the force surrounding her begin to tighten its grip. She could
barely breathe as it constricted ever more tightly around her body, crushing
her breasts against her ribcage, squeezing her limbs in towards her body,
forcing her into a foetal position on the floor. Lights started flashing
before Jean's eyes as her oxygen supply became restricted, and the seams of
her costume were splitting where the strain on the material was too great.
The only thing Jean could think about, however, was her own overpowering
sense of shame at the stream of juices pumping steadily from her excited

Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the crushing pressure stopped. Jean
was still held just as firmly as before, and was forced to breathe in tiny,
shallow gasps, but the grip on her was no longer increasing in intensity. The
pause lasted for several seconds as Jean both fought for breath and struggled
to control the shameful flow of her pussy-juice, which had now completely
soaked through her thin costume and started dripping onto the carpet beneath
her. Then her captor spoke again.

"Hello, what's this?"

Jean's eyes widened as she felt something touch her swollen, puffy
cunt-lips. She knew it must be Rachel's fingers. They pressed hard into her
uncontrollably lubricating pussy, then slid along the length of her wet slit.
The soaking, clinging material of her costume offered Jean no protection from
the touch, and it felt as if it was her bare flesh being molested. Then the
fingers left her, and she heard Rachel tutting disapprovingly.

"You're getting off on this, aren't you?" Rachel sneered. "There you are, on
the verge of being crushed to death, and your pussy is squirting cum like a
fucking fountain!"

Rachel walked back round to where Jean's head was held a couple of inches off
the ground, and squatted down in front of her.

"I mean, I knew you must be total slut under that goody-goody image, but
this?" So saying, Rachel reached down and held her cum-soaked digits directly
under Jean's nose. The strong female scent of her own juices made Jean's head
swim, and she tried to suppress the flutter of excitement that coursed
through her body. Rachel laughed, a deceptively innocent girlish giggle, then
smeared the sticky cum all over Jean's panting mouth. Before she had time to
think about it, Jean's tongue had instinctively darted out to lick the
moisture from her full, red lips. The sweet taste was intoxicating, and
caused her treacherous, convulsing pussy to redouble its efforts in soaking
her throbbing crotch. Jean tried to speak, to plead with Rachel, but all she
could do was emit a low, lustful moan.

Rachel stood back up, a wide grin spread across her pretty face. "This is
going to be even more fun than I thought!" she chimed in a cheerful voice,
then licked her fingers completely clean of her captive mother's delicious



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