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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
fanfic.

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] *A big thanks
goes out to everyone who has emailed me with support so far!*

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
arise.



Uncanny X-Men: Phoenix Forced Part 3 - Agony And Ecstasy (FF,inc,BDSM,ncon)
by the BiZZ

Jean felt herself once again grappled by unseen forces, this time to be
hoisted into the air. She hung there for a moment, suspended in mid-air by
the power of Rachel's will, before she was hurled across the room to land
heavily in the middle of her large bed. She lay there, dazed and
spread-eagled on the mattress, and tried to regain her bearings. Her heart
was pounding, her pussy was burning, and her mind was reeling - Jean was
hopelessly overwhelmed and could barely think straight at all. She had only
just realised that she was no longer a prisoner of Rachel's telekinesis when
she saw something move at the foot of the bed.

The long, golden gloves and boots that Jean had removed only minutes before
(although it now seemed like hours) sprang into life, leaping through the air
to land around her, one in each corner of the bed. Their silken lengths
immediately snaked around Jean's wrists and ankles, tying themselves tightly
in place, whilst securing their free ends around each of the bedposts. In a
matter of seconds, Jean was forced into an X-position on the bed, her limbs
stretched wide apart and bound firmly by her own clothing. All the while, her
golden sash had been untying itself from her midriff, and it now slithered
over her heaving chest and up to her face. Jean stared, mesmerised, at the
length of silky fabric that reared up before her eyes, coiling like a
serpent. Finally she found her voice.

"Rachel! Please, stop this! I-mmrphh!" Jean's protest was cut short as the
sash darted forward, striking like a cobra, piling itself into Jean's open
mouth. It continued to wriggle past her lips and bunch up on her tongue until
her jaws were prized wide open and her cheeks bulged with the material. There
was no way that Jean could speak now - she was even having trouble breathing
through the thick ball of fabric that nearly blocked her airways.

As she fought back her gag reflex, Jean tried desperately to assess her
situation. With a sinking heart, she realised that she had never been so
utterly helpless. None of the X-Men's villains had ever held Jean so
completely in their power as this young girl now did. Jean barely knew
Rachel, but after meeting her had immediately formed an affinity with the
pretty redhead. And now here she was, bound, gagged and powerless, the
struggling captive of her new friend, while Rachel swaggered up to the
side of the bed, dressed for all the world like a teenage dominatrix.

Jean shuddered in shame as she realised that, somewhere along the way, her
struggling had changed into pelvic thrusts, and she was now humping the air
with her soaking cunt.

"My, you're eager, aren't you?" purred Rachel. "I was going to apologise for
the binding and gagging - a necessary precaution in this situation, I'm sure
you understand - but you know, I think you're actually enjoying them..."

As she spoke, Rachel reached out to Jean's bucking hips, and cupped her
mother's throbbing vulva in the palm of her hand. The heat of Jean's desire
felt like it would burn Rachel's hand, and her gushing pussy continued to
flow so that her juices trickled between Rachel's leather-clad fingers.
Rachel probed slightly with two of the freshly-lubricated digits, pressing
against the sodden material of her mom's costume. Beneath the thin material
she could easily feel how ready Jean was. She pushed further, and heard Jean
moan in ecstasy as she began to force the stretchy material into her mother's
gaping hole.

Suddenly she stopped, and stepped back from the bed. Glancing at Jean's face,
she could have sworn that there was a fleeting frown of disappointment on her
mother's features. Rachel smiled. She truly didn't intend to hurt Jean, just
to use enough force to ensure that their union would happen. Rachel knew now
that if she didn't make her dreams a reality she would never be able to rest.
She needed to have wild, passionate sex with her mother to free her from her
demons, and she could not risk the possibly that her mom might see things
differently.

The way things had worked out, though, were even better. Never would Rachel
have guessed that her mom got off on bondage - yet there she was, bound and
gagged, powerless and defenceless, and more aroused than any woman Rachel had
ever seen. Rachel let her eyes follow Jean's thrusting hips for a moment. Her
own mother, a genuine submissive.

Of course, it was not all one-way. Rachel had been surprised at how turned-on
she herself had become by this whole experience. The simple act of capturing
and restraining Jean had caused Rachel intense and unexpected pleasure, and
when Jean had begun to react in a sexual manner Rachel's body had responded
in kind. Her own thighs had become slick with female honey some time ago, and
she could feel the restrictive tightness of her leather g-string ever more
fiercely with each passing moment.

Rachel thought again about her outfit. A month ago, she would never have
considered wearing something like this. Of course, a month ago she wouldn't
have considered fucking her mom either, but this was something extra. Maybe
it was all tied up with the often violent nature of her dreams, but Rachel
had found herself becoming more and more interested in the idea of
domination, and in the perverse pleasures to be found in pain. She told
herself she needed to make Jean see her in a sexual way, but did she really
need to dress in exactly this way? Did she have to ambush her mom in the way
she did, rather than just try to seduce her? And even now, was it absolutely
necessary to keep Jean bound and gagged, now that her mother was most
certainly extremely aroused? Rachel no longer knew the answers to these
questions, but she did know that there was no way she could make herself
stop now.

Narrowing her eyes, Rachel focused on her mother's bucking body. Jean seemed
to notice the attention, and her struggles faltered. She gazed, wide-eyed and
unmoving at Rachel as the leather-clad mutant summoned her telekinesis again.
Rachel raised one hand, stretching it out towards her mother's body, and
closed her fist. She paused, allowing herself a brief smile, before suddenly
spreading her fingers. As she did, Jean's green bodysuit was immediately and
violently torn apart, scraps of the material exploding from her naked body.

Ribbons of green fluttered to the floor across the width of the room, but
not a single piece remained anywhere near Jean. She was now entirely naked,
except for the golden binds on her wrists and ankles. Her soft, creamy flesh
glistened with sweat. Her muscles twitched from excitement and exertion, and
her chest rose and fell rapidly as she fought for breath. Her large breasts,
freed from their tight, green prison, rolled and swayed on her heaving torso,
but still retained their perfect shape. They were capped with rosy-pink
nipples, which were very erect and protruded at least an inch from the soft
mounds of titflesh. Further down, a small strip of soaking wet crimson fur
led the way to Jean's over-excited pussy. With her legs held wide apart, Jean
had no way of concealing her treacherous womanhood, and her bright pink lips
were swollen and gaping in readiness. The stiff nub of Jean's clitoris was
clearly visible, protruding proudly from the folds of her puffy labia. The
whole area was drenched in sticky liquid, and all the while her eager hole
continued to pump fresh honey in a continuous stream. It trickled from Jean's
spasming cunt, down over her puckered, caramel-coloured anus and onto the bed
below.

Rachel's head swam as she drank in the sight. She had seen it so many times
in her dreams, but it looked a thousand times better in the flesh. Such
beautiful flesh... Rachel could not stop her hand from sliding between her
own legs as she gazed longingly at mother's spread pussy. Her gaze drifted
to Jean's heaving breasts, and as her eyes followed their enticing, fluid
motion, Rachel's free hand reached up to squeeze her own straining mammaries.
For a moment she feared she would wake up, that she was once again trapped in
a deeply erotic dream, but as she reached into the leather corset and pinched
her own diamond-hard nipple she knew that this time it was real. This time,
Jean's ass was hers!

Mounting the bed, Rachel clambered between her mother's legs. She knelt
there, looking down on Jean's prone, unresisting body. All struggling had
stopped, and for long moment the only movement in the room was the rise
and fall of Jean's chest as she fought for air, and the corresponding
almost-circular motion of her ripe breasts. Jean's eyes were still gaping
wide, but Rachel could not decide whether this was in fear, surprise - or
something else. A quick scan of Jean's mind proved unsuccessful. Rachel
could not get any clear impression of her mother's current psyche, a fact
which she put down to the mental turmoil the captive woman must have been
going through.

Sighing in anticipation, Rachel finally made her move. Reaching forward, she
inserted first one, then two fingers into Jean's sopping wet hole. They slid
in easily, their full length easily accepted by the relaxed and heavily
lubricated orifice. Rachel shivered in delight as she heard Jean's responsive
murmur of pleasure. She began to slide her fingers in and out of the hot
little hole, slowly at first, but with gathering speed.

After a few moments she was hammering the digits into her mother's cunt,
her hand almost a blur as it slammed repeatedly into Jean's pelvis. Jean's
murmurs became moans of ecstasy, as she started to thrust against Rachel's
pistoning hand, increasing the force of penetration. Sweat beaded on Rachel's
brow, and she stared with lust-crazed eyes and a manic grin as she pummelled
her mother's most sensitive area. Jean started thrashing around on the bed,
testing her restraints to the limit as her body bucked and jerked like a
rodeo bull. Then all of a sudden, Rachel stopped.

Jean's movements gradually subsided, and even through her gag Rachel could
hear her disappointed mewling. Rachel's fingers were still inside her mother,
and she could feel Jean's vaginal walls clenching against them, as if even
her pussy was begging for more. Rachel almost laughed out loud at the
thought. She slowly pulled her hand away, tugging her fingers free from the
gripping orifice. It was time to up the stakes.

Reaching up with her other arm, Rachel began to unzip the top of her long,
leather glove. Once it was fully unzipped, she pulled her arm free of its
leather sheath and held the glove in both hands. Still keeping her gaze
locked on Jean's convulsing pussy, she ran the glove through her bared hand,
moistening her palm with the sticky wet leather.

Jean was looking up in bewilderment as Rachel stretched the glove taught
between her hands, then, without warning, released one end and struck out,
whipping Jean right across the groin with the scarlet leather sleeve. Jean
had no time to react, or think, or even brace herself as the improvised whip
slashed across her nether region, lashing against her hyper-sensitive vulva.
She screamed, choking on her gag, her back arching in agony. The pain was
indescribable - the impact of the heavy leather combined with the whipping
motion left her abused groin aching and stinging. Tears trickled from Jean's
eyes as she fought to control the pain, her bruised labia swelling even more
in response to the attack. She just had time to see Rachel's arm rise again
before the second blow fell, this time slapping directly down onto Jean's
throbbing clitoris.

Explosions flashed behind Jean's eyes. The pain was so intense that she could
not even scream, but every muscle in her body tensed in agony. Her back rose
completely off the bed, held aloft by the spasming muscles in her restrained
limbs. By the time she collapsed limply onto the mattress, the pain had
subsided to the point where she felt that she could start breathing again. It
was still causing her the most intense suffering she had ever had to
withstand, but the relief that washed over as the exquisite agony subsided
felt so good that it was almost orgasmic. Jean had never experienced such a
thing before, and would never have dreamed that she could feel such
horrendous pain and such wonderful pleasure at the same time. Her time for
reflection was short-lived, however, as the next moment brought another
strike to Jean's tormented groin.

Rachel thrashed her mother's reddening crotch, her arm flying back and forth,
faster and faster as she mercilessly whipped Jean's defenceless sex. The
screaming was continuous now, and Rachel laughed along to her mother's
muffled wails of pain. The sounds became cracked and broken as Jean grew
hoarse, but still Rachel did not let up. She was completely immersed in her
role of tormentor, and was almost foaming at the mouth as she threw her
entire strength into each vicious blow. With her free hand she was gripping
her g-string, white-knuckled as she tugged at the leather thong that bit deep
into her crotch. With every blow that she inflicted on her mother, Rachel
gave an extra pull on her constricting underwear, so that her mother's pain
was mirrored in the coarse material scraping hard across Rachel's own pulsing
clitoris. Rachel felt no pain, however - only waves of ecstasy, and the
intoxicating feeling of sexual power.

"What's the - unnh! - matter?" she screeched, her words punctuated by grunts
of effort from her continued lashing. "Had - hnngh! - enough!?"

Jean did not even manage a groan in response. She lay there, head slack
against the pillow, with a glazed look in her eyes. Her battered cunt was as
scarlet as the glove that beat it. It was only through her continued rapid
but shallow breathing that Rachel could see Jean was still living. There was
a pause in the torture, as Rachel swayed, panting and sweating from exertion,
holding the glove aloft and staring at her mother's vacant expression. For a
moment it seemed as if the cruel whipping would continue even further, but
then Rachel blinked, shook her head, and carelessly discarded her implement
of torture. She hesitated, staring at her mother's bruised and beaten body
as if seeing it for the first time. Then she leaned down, closed her eyes,
and tenderly kissed Jean's hugely swollen clitoris.

And then Jean came. Hard.

TO BE CONTINUED

    

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