Corruption Is A State Of Mind

"Welcome back to the Club, Sue. I've just thought up the most fabulous game for us to play..."

***

Jean always went to the Club alone. She was not ashamed, precisely. It was just that none of them understood. She knew that Ororo, Betsy, and even Jubilee went there, but they were just looking for a good time. They'd bought into Emma's snares. Jean, she knew Emma was full of shit.

But the Phoenix was still inside her, an addiction waiting to relapse. Most days she could lie in bed with Scott and listen to his breathing. Politely discuss curriculum and at-risk students. Joke with him over take-out. But some days, warmth and contentment and a love that was the envy of any woman were simply not enough. She needed heat. Sensation. She needed to burn.

The Club was a furnace, nothing more. It held her fire without letting it spread. It was... medicine. If it weren't for her affliction, she wouldn't go there. She wasn't that woman. She was Jean Grey, not the Phoenix. And not Emma.

Alone, Jean took the tram down the subway line, her body already breaking out in a sweat, breath coming a little harder than usual. She traversed the lobby so fast the echo of her heels beat a tattoo on the walls, and then was in the wooden hallways that led into and away from the Club proper. Emma was there, wearing a white evening gown from her clothing line—it bore a modest resemblance to her White Queen costume, but that wouldn't have gone as well with her sunglasses and updo.

"Jean, darling, it's been

ages.

I was beginning to think you'd found another solution to your... needs. Perhaps finally given in to that hairy little midget that keeps sniffing around you..."

"I'm faithful to Scott."

Emma traded kisses with her: one on the left cheek, one on the right. "I know, dear. It's just that Phoenix isn't, is she? Don't worry. I have something fun in mind for that..."

Further conversation was unnecessary. Emma turned and walked, knowing Jean would follow. And Jean walked after her, knowing Emma would satisfy her. As hot as their rivalry burned, Emma could never resist being the one who could get the Phoenix off, and Jean could never resist letting her.

They didn't go to the ballroom. That was for tourists. They went to one of the private rooms. This one wasn't the oddest Jean had been to—it didn't even have any toys—but it was mystifying. Walls divided the room into three slices, with a passage running through all three in the center. Emma gestured Jean over to a setting. There were two molded rests, which Jean knelt to place her knees in, and a cushioned stool, which Jean bent over. It left her in a comfortably supported 'doggy style' position, her lower body in the leftmost part of the room and her upper body in the middle.

Emma stepped over her, reaching up to a pull-chain and tugging it down. Like a guillotine, down came a section of the wall that'd been hidden in the ceiling, closing the left part of the room off from the middle until it settled around Jean's waist, an expanse in the bottom comfortably fitting around her. Under the middle of the stool, another bit of wall rose to completely cut off the two sections of the room, except for Jean's body.

"Bet you're glad you started that diet," Emma quipped. Across from Jean, there was another such setting. Emma got on all fours atop it, then gave Jean a risqué look. "If you'd be a dear?"

Using her telekinesis, Jean pulled on the other pull-chain, bringing down a section of wall between the right and middle of the room. It too sealed Emma in like a strange pillory. And if Jean brought the wall down

very

fast, what of it?

They were face to face, now. Like a massage table, the stools they were bent over continued to allow for a place to rest one's head. Jean folded her arms underneath her and set her forehead down, watching Emma, who clapped her hands.

The floor between them opened and up rose a small table. From the smell of lube, Jean could guess what its usual contents were. Today, it held a hill of cocaine, a mirrored tray, a wad of cash, literally a silver spoon, and a credit card with George Clooney's name on it.

"Hmm... how could that have gotten there?" Emma took a spoonful of coke, ladled it onto the tray, and used the card to sort it. Jean watched her mince the clumps of crystal up, the chaos of the dust replaced with four geometric lines. Very Emma. Even precise in doing drugs. "Want some?"

Jean shook her head unconvincingly.

Emma took one of the dollar bills from the sheaf, tugged it open—a hundred—and then rolled it up into a tight tube. "Alright. I'll go first." She brought the bill to her nose. "Honestly, Jean. You make it so hard to be a good hostess."

Jean watched the line disappear up the makeshift straw, into Emma's immaculately rhinoplastied nose. Emma bared her teeth, then threw her head back in a maelstrom of platinum-blonde hair. "Yes! Yes!" She snorted, grabbed Jean by the throat, and kissed her full on the lips.

Kissing Emma always gave Jean a buzz of electricity. Scott was warm and caring and comfortable, like holding a teddy bear. Jean liked that. She was a girl who liked that sort of thing. Emma was an adrenaline spike, a shot of jack, a dose of heroin. And Jean

needed

that.

As she backed away, Emma sniffed a few times, then pressed the bill into Jean's hands. "Take a hit, Jean. You're the perfect little X-Man, after all... and this is perfectly good cocaine." She giggled to herself, already high. Jean could only imagine what pills and liquor were already floating around that reupholstered carcass of hers.

Jean snorted up a line and—instantly her pussy was wet the rush was hitting her the rush was hitting her hard her asshole was twitching her body was tingling she needed to be FUCKED.

Her lips parted and Emma took the invitation, kissing her wetly, lengthily,

devouring

her mouth like a nine-course meal.

When she finally stopped, Emma left Jean buzzing like a high-tension wire. She took the bill back, lowered it to the coke, and sucked up a line like she was pulling a rip-cord. Then she threw her head up, licking her lips. "Let's get fucked, Jeannie."

Jean smiled, feeling her wet panties grinding against her wetter cunt with every breath she took. Suddenly, she felt cool air on her nethers as her clothes were drawn out of the way—

"Oh!" Emma cried out, then held a hand to her mouth like she'd made a rude noise. She smiled at Jean, mock-bashfully. "Nothing like getting eaten out on cocaine, is there Jeannie?"

This time Jean kissed her, heated, demanding, stopping only when she lapped her tongue out of Emma's mouth and up her face, licking the residue of the white powder from her nose. Emma laughed and stirred a wet finger through the residue on the tray, bringing it up to pop into Jean's mouth and slide over her gums.

Jean's eyes bugged out, prompting another cackle from Emma. Simultaneously, they both dropped down and licked the last of the cocaine from the tray, inexorably pulling to each other to slide coked-up tongues into each other's mouths.

Emma pulled away, too giggly to continue. "Your turn, Jean. I know that look. Your cunt's far too wet not to have someone

licking it

."

***

Sue was so nervous she turned invisible. She owned her desires: she answered to Stormy, she dressed in the black leather it was a miracle she still fit into, and while Reed was locked in the lab for twenty-hour stretches, she no longer bothered bringing him meals he wouldn't eat and trying to persuade him to take his children to the zoo. She let Johnny and Ben watch the kids. She went to the Club. She did drugs and she fucked women.

She felt a vestigial shame about it, but no real guilt. The shame made it better in a way. During the week, with Reed, she'd think back to what she had done and hate herself, in a self-congratulatory way, for being such a hot bitch. She'd admitted to herself that she had multitudes. She was not just a simple girl in fantastic circumstances. She loved exploring the Microverse as much as she loved cutting the crusts off Franklin's sandwich as much as she loved taking dildos in all her holes.

Earlier she'd snorted some coke from Betsy's—Slut's—belly button. Slut had laughed at the tickling sensation, Sue had had to use both nostrils to get all the cocaine out of her cute little navel, and she'd been humming like an electrical transformer ever since.

And now she did as her Mistress had commanded. She eased herself through the door into that trifurcated room Emma had shown her, finding the bottom half of a woman on all fours, a wall sealing off the rest of her. Sue smirked to herself. A glory hole for women. And Reed thought his inventions were grand.

Kneeling down, she folded up the anonymous woman's skirt to expose her backside, imprisoned in black panties that Sue quickly pulled away, much as she liked how they outlined the woman's firm, shapely ass. Now she, whoever she was, was bare. Sue could see how wet she was.

No tongue on a first date.

Sue remembered her mother's old prescription on dating, felt a hot flush of shame over her circumstances, and smiled wickedly as she bent her head and extended her tongue.

***

"Oh God, Emma... she's pulling my ass open... she's gonna do it... Emma... she's... she's using her tongue..."

Little shockwaves ripped through Jean, almost small orgasms. The tongue in her ass had at first been soft and gentle, merely licking her tiny hole, but her lover had had enough of that. Now it was a hard, violent thing, forcing its way into her tight space, making Jean lose her words to an endless moan. A finger snaked into her pussy, but it was nothing compared to the long, slippery thing now residing in her ass.

She's licking me... she's licking me back there...

Jean began to mentally babble as Emma held her face up in her hands, peppering it with soft kisses like she could taste the painful pleasure Jean was going through.

Giving me a rimjob... licking my asshole!

Jean groaned aloud at another swipe of her lover's tongue into virgin territory, and another, and another. The other woman had gone slow at first, teasing Jean, but that was over now. She was going fast. Very fast.

"It's okay, Jean," Emma said as the redhead virtually panted into her mouth. "I'm having my asshole eaten too."

***

Sue had thought she could only perform analingus on Emma, with the White Queen dominating her, telling Sue she owned her, that Sue was her bitch. But this woman's ass was just so perfect. All of her was beautiful, she wanted her tongue to know the flavor of every inch of her skin, but her

ass

—those two pale mounds just begging to be loved, exquisitely soft and slightly cool to the touch.

She squeezed them between her hands. Oh yes. Perfect. And eating her ass would be even better. It was taboo,

naughty,

and there was something so intimate about the submissiveness of it. She couldn't explain it. It was just... special.

Sue opened those perfect cheeks, wishing she could hear the sigh or moan or whispered curse from the woman (she herself would definitely have made a noise). She stared at the neat pink circle of the woman's anus, so vulnerable; all hers. Then she moved in and gave it a quick swipe with her tongue.

The muscle contracted and the woman shuddered, but otherwise the wall blocked out whatever reaction she had. That was okay. Sue could imagine how good it felt. She'd had Jan's tongue in her ass often enough since that night. The woman was a born sub.

That wasn't pertinent right now, though. Sue's entire focus was on the woman before her. Pleasuring her was as good as pleasuring Emma. The White Queen had made it clear that this woman's ecstasy was very,

very

important. Sue did as she'd enjoyed: swirling her tongue in the woman's anus, kissing it deeply, squeezing the woman's buttocks and thighs as her tongue writhed inside her. Goosepimples were breaking out over her body as her shuddering grew in intensity.

Around Sue's tongue, her ass was oven-warm and ridiculously tender to the touch, squirming at the end of her licking. Sue went deeper, tickling, then entering, feeling the musculature contract and then relax, moving to the rhythm of Sue's ministrations. It clenched at her tongue like it meant to keep the rimjob going forever.

Pulling away, Sue did something else Emma had taught her. She spat on the woman's asshole and rubbed the saliva in with her tongue. It was hard to remember a few minutes ago, when she'd started and that puckered rosebud had been so tight that Sue could barely get her tongue inside. But now, she had the feeling the woman would be gaping just from Sue's tongue.

***

"What's she doing to you, Jean? How's she fucking your ass right... this... minute?"

Jean smiled at Emma through her own mirrored pleasure. It was a wonder Emma hadn't moved on to having herself reamed yet. Maybe she wanted to keep pace with Jean. Or maybe she was too much of a control freak to let someone else fuck her ass.

A sudden image of Emma masturbating herself in the ass came to Jean, and it was so good she just had to lower her head and do another line of cocaine. It cleared her head, shook out all the fantasies and misgivings, and let her focus on the fact that she had someone's tongue in her ass. So good.

"You tell me." She butted her head against Emma's, resting their foreheads together. "You're the mind reader."

"You're letting me in?"

"If you can focus after doing enough blow to kill Al Pacino."

Emma smirked and closed her eyes, leaving Jean free to let her lustful pleasure show on her face. "Mmmm... she's going slow... nice and slow. Teasing you. Drawing this out..."

Suddenly Jean's face dropped; she buried herself in the pillow underneath her to stifle her sudden gasping pleasure.

"Oooh," Emma cooed. "Such a greedy slut. Licking all over that tight little hole of yours. And now..." Emma clenched her fist in Jean's hair, tugging on it to needle her. "Oh, she's pushing her face into your ass like she wants to

live there.

No wonder, with you jerking around like an animal. She needs to do

something

to stay in place. To keep licking where she's

licking."

Jean threw her head up, moaning loudly, body shaking, unable to resist as Emma ran a hand over her body. Down to cup her breast and feel a nipple turned to stone.

"She's almost in now. She's pushing forward. Let her in, Jeannie. Relax. Open up so she can get her tongue in your ass. I'm sure it'll be the first of

many."

Jean's hands dropped down to tightly grip the legs of her stool, pulling desperately at them as she tensed and didn't relax, just clenching harder and harder.

"I can't believe she's doing it... going inside me... shit... oh, Jesus Christ, Emma... it feels so... so..."

"Wrong?"

"Good!" Jean moaned in heartfelt bliss.

***

It felt good to Sue too: the artful warmth of a woman's ass on her face, the musky heat of a tight hole around her tongue. She couldn't believe she was doing this; and that's

why

she was doing it. Because she could. Because she was.

And she wasn't just tonguefucking a woman's ass. She was fingering her pussy too, now using two, making a stranger shake and whimper with a fuck in both her holes, her pleasure dripping down Sue's digits like she was finger-painting. And without being able to hear her voice, there was no way to tell if she'd come already—though Sue was sure she had, she'd felt her sex pinch her fingers like the woman was trying to break them. And there was no way to tell how many times she'd come.

But Sue didn't care if she was in a coma on the other side of the wall. She was going until she'd had her fill of this woman's sweet ass and liquid pleasure, even if it seemed like that would never happen.

Top marks, Susan.

Emma's voice sounded in her mind.

A for effect, A+ for effort. But now I think it's time for another lesson. You know what to do, Ms. Storm. You certainly enjoyed it enough the other night.

Sue pulled away to look at that hot ass once more. The woman's asshole was vividly red and stretched a little ways, as well as being glossy with moisture. Still, it took some trepidation for Sue to bring her fingers to it. She put them in her mouth first, lathering them with saliva, before she pushed them into the woman's ass. Barely any resistance. She took a moment to savor it, then she pushed until her entire finger had been sucked in.

"Oh Christ, you sweet bitch, I've never felt anything so tight..."

Slow and steady, she worked her finger around the tight hole, in and out, up and down, from side to side, hitting it from different angles so the woman could never get used to its presence. Slowly she picked up the pace, and by the way her labia flushed, it was clearly doing more for her than just loosening her up.

She stopped to spit on the hole before adding another finger, twisting and curling both inside the crushing pressure of that rectum. As she added a third, she spat into the palm of her other hand and then visualized a strap-on in her mind. Soon, one was born of her invisible forcefields, and she rubbed her spit into its shaft, most especially the tip. The smeared saliva made it almost visible. Good. She wanted to see it sliding in and out of this slut's tight asshole.

***

"Oh fuck," Jean breathed, the clarified whirl of her coke-fueled thoughts giving way to confusion and pain and a certain kind of humiliation (

she was cheating on Scott she was fucking Emma Frost she was a whore)

that made her body sing. Something was pressing up against her ass and it was cold and it was big and it was most definitely not a woman's tongue.

"What is it, Jeannie?" Emma asked with a Cheshire cat smile.

"You know damn well—

oh shit."

Jean couldn't believe she was being stretched by the head of what was clearly a very long, very thick, very

big

dildo. Her mind couldn't conceive of it happening to her. Even as the Dark Phoenix, she'd never allowed...

that.

"D-distract me. Tell me what she's doing to you."

"Who?"

"Your bitch! Whoever you've got behind you! Tell me how she's fucking you. I know you're dying to!"

Emma's grin widened dangerously. "Well, Jean, my lover is no longer ever-so-lightly fondling my nether lips, though I enjoyed that. And she's not fingering me anymore, either. Perhaps it has something to do with how I got so wet that she could use those moist fingers to just... slip into my ass." Emma closed her eyes, smile still wide, and she let out an obvious sigh of passion. "Yes... she's fingering my ass now, the sweet little dyke. And with her other hand, she's enjoying my silky skin—touching the back of my thighs—kissing my bare legs—oh, she's all over me, Jean. She can't get enough of me. My own little whore."

Jean had buried her face in her hands. Her lover had stopped. Being one of Emma's whores, Jean would've expected the dildo to either keep going slowly inside her, or to be forced all the way in all at once. Instead, it just stayed inside her, the head holding her ass open—uncomfortable but not unpleasant.

"And she's run her tongue between my cheeks, up and down—oh, I wish I could reach back and open myself up for her. She has her thumbs on either side of my hole... I'm wide open. She's licking... licking... just

wandering

around my ring. I'm letting her in, Jean. I'm getting more and more relaxed, and she's pressing harder and harder, and soon I'll let her... in!"

At Emma's orgasmic exhortation, Jean felt her own lover push against her tight ring. In the interval, she'd relaxed too much to resist. Instantaneously the dildo was a few inches inside her ass, pain shooting through her body, her hands clasping the stool under her as she tried to push the invader out on instinct rather than anything else.