Mojo here to introduce you all to another installment of Marvel XXX Capcom! This tantalizing tale is a match-up between Storm of the X-Men and the infamous M. Bison! Will Storm submit to M. Bison or will she be able to free the Morlocks without caving to his whims?
Spoilers, but it's the first one.
Anyways, enjoy this scene!
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The mansion was like something out of Scarface: full of marble and gold, more rooms than anyone would ever need, and stacked with armed guards. The X-Men walked up the steps, guided by the very man who had captured them as they attempted to sneak onto the base.
Since it was a stealth mission, there were only three members present: Storm, Cyclops, and Jean Grey. The three of them alone could have taken out the dozen guards that watched them as they were led to the mansion's owner, but considering the stakes, they opted for peace.
They came to a kind of lobby where a pair of men waited outside a grand pair of golden doors. They were both large and intimidating, one dressed like a boxer and the other a wrestler.
"This them?" the boxer asked. He had been leaning up against the doors while the wrestler lounged on a nearby couch.
"Yes, Mr. Balrog," the soldier said.
"Which one of you is the leader?" Balrog said.
Cyclops stepped forward. "That'd be me. I lead the X-Men. My name is--"
"X-Men?" Balrog said. "No, no. Of the Morlocks."
It was Storm who stepped forward, then. "I am. I speak for the Morlocks."
Balrog opened the door. "He just wants to talk to you." Storm looked back at her two teammates, who both nodded.
"We will be fine," Jean said, telepathically. "Call out if you need us."
Storm nodded and walked through the doors. She took one last look at her friends before the doors closed behind her and already saw both of the larger men leering at Jean while Cyclops stepped forward.
The room she entered was larger than any other in the mansion, but from what she could tell, it was the personal quarters of M. Bison. It kept with the same gold and marble theme, its walls covered in banners depicting the winged skull of Shadaloo. There were chairs and other seating that was made of wood and felt and looked like they were uncomfortable to sit on. And in the middle of the room was a water feature of a Roman soldier atop a horse, which spewed water from its mouth. Behind that, she found a bed that was larger than any she had ever seen before. And sitting on the edge of that bed was M. Bison.
Upon seeing Storm, he stood. "Welcome, Weather Goddess. I hope your trip here was comfortable?"
The man was dressed in a robe and a pair of silk pants. It was odd to see one of M. Bison's reputation to be dressed so casually, but even crime lords had to sleep.
"Your men did not harm us," she said. Her eyes went white and sparked. "Let us hope it stays that way."
M. Bison chuckled, again taking Storm by surprise. "I suppose it all depends on what happens here tonight."
"Our demands are simple: release the Morlocks and Mr. Sinister to our custody."
Bison folded his hands behind his back and began to pace. "You are not in a position to make demands."
"Perhaps not," Storm said. "But that has never deterred me before."
Bison turned. "You are a woman of conviction and drive. I admire that."
He eyed her up and down, taking in her form that was shown off in her tight, white uniform. The man's gaze was intense and nearly broke Storm's hard exterior.
"To be honest," Bison finally said, "Sinister is a monster and not the kind that I can use. And his experiments with the Morlocks have been fruitless. I will give you both."
Storm's eyes narrowed and she didn't respond, waiting for whatever he was about to say next that would inevitably make his boon feel like more of a burden.
"But I am a businessman, first and foremost. I have my own demand. A need, really."
Storm waited, a pang of fear beginning to form in her gut. Bison continued to pace around, making a line for the fountain.
"I am a busy man. I enact billion-dollar deals every day. At any moment, I have the lives of thousands in the palms of my hands and the blood of even more. What I don't have time for are the more base pleasures in life. I find them to be...beneath me."
He stopped at the fountain.
"Make no mistake, I am not some sexless egomaniac. When I feel the urge for pleasure, I have it brought to me, but there is no sport in that."
Bison turned to Storm, a salacious grin appearing on his face.
"A goddess, though. Now, there is a conquest."
Storm stood rigid. "So, you wish for me to give my body to you."
Bison nodded.
"And if I don't, then neither the Morlocks nor Sinister will be released to us?"
"To put it plainly: yes."
Storm scoffed. "It does not seem very sporting."
"Maybe not," Bison said with a shrug. "But I don't believe that someone of your stature would easily, if ever, be seduced by someone like me. Your morals wouldn't allow it."
"You would be correct."
"Then, the very fact that you are here, in my presence, asking for something of me that you can't take yourself, is enough for me."
"Very well." Storm reached up to her neck and clasped the X-shaped zipper at her collar and began to pull it down.
Bison put up a hand. "There's no need to jump right into things." He gestured to a wet bar next to his bed. "Perhaps a drink is in order?"
Storm continued to zip out of her jumpsuit, exposing her naked flesh beneath. She shrugged herself out of it, her breasts spilling out, still restrained in a black bra.
"I have only had alcohol while working once. And then, it was a friend and teammate of mine, Gambit, who was able to convince me, not a blood-thirsty warlord."
Bison simply shrugged, not even taking offense at her comment. He poured himself a cognac and drank it while Storm continued to undress.
She was now naked, save for her bra, which she soon unsnapped. Her breasts, now free, were a sight to behold. They were a perfect teardrop shape with dark brown areolas. Her body, in itself, was like something chiseled from marble. Her long legs were toned and long, leading up to her waist, which was thick and carried her ass well, but her stomach was muscular with little fat hugging her abdomen. And although she wasn't shaved, the white pubic hair was trimmed and seemed to accent her pussy. Storm stood proud and unashamed of her body.
"Are you not going to undress?" she asked.
Bison took a long drink from his glass. "I'd like you to undress me."
Without hesitation but also without hurry, she walked up to the man. She undid the cloth belt around his robe first and opened it up to reveal his muscular form. This was no surprise to Storm, though, knowing the man was an experienced fighter in his own right. She pulled it off, Bison exchanging the glass from hand to hand, and then she went to his pants.
Even before she pulled them down, Storm could see the bulge in them and suddenly became curious as to what she would find underneath. When she finally did pull them down, she found that it wasn't just padding causing the lump in his pants. M. Bison was hung and he wasn't even fully erect yet.
"Do you like what you see?" Bison asked.
Storm reached down and gripped his cock, feeling him jump just slightly at the unprompted action. She slowly began to stroke it, feeling him grow harder with each motion.
"You seem to take pride in this," she said. "And you are right to."
Bison drained the rest of his glass and took Storm by the waist, kissing her. Storm kissed him back, but only enough.
Bison began to work his mouth down her neck, kissing and licking her delicate skin. Storm did not feel any pleasure or excitement in this, but merely allowed the man to continue, feeling him as he stopped at her left breast and began to lick her nipple, teasing it with his teeth.
Noticing that she was not actively participating did not bother Bison, though. He should not force pleasure upon her, but he knew she would participate if she did find it pleasurable. So, in one fluid motion, he bent over and swept her off her feet.
The sudden action took Storm by surprise and she gasped.
"I think you'll find that I am not completely malevolent," he said, laying her down on the bed.
She laid there, her legs crossed as if she didn't know what was to come. And, really, she didn't.
Bison clapped his hands twice and a door from the side opened. Two women entered dressed in skin-tight dresses. They were both beautiful--one blonde, the other a redhead--but they had the same nervous, jerky movements of people living in fear.
"Ladies," Bison said. "Please help the weather goddess become more...comfortable."
Both women nodded and immediately pulled down their dresses. Beneath, they were completely naked, as if they were being used for just such an occasion as this. Their bodies were similar: young, toned, and skin without a single blemish. The main difference was that the blonde's breasts were larger while the redhead had thicker, wider thighs.
"What is the meaning of this?" Storm asked as the women crawled onto the bed. The redhead stopped at her legs and began to massage her feet while the blonde went behind her and began to massage her shoulders.
"Katarina," he said motioning to the blonde woman, "and Elizabeth," motioning to the redhead, "are well-versed in pleasure. I simply want you to be able to enjoy your time here. After all, I know that you yourself are not always spending your evenings with men."
