Chapter 0 - A Little Bit of X: Prologue


                                               A Little Bit of X
                                                 by Volpone

                                                    Prologue

          "I still say we nova bomb the entire planet and make sure he's dead! Sterilize it down to
bedrock, and damn the consequences!" said the first voice.
          Another objected.
          "Unacceptable! Our colleague from Asgard and I have a vested interest in this world.
There is far too much potential to waste simply to eliminate one individual."
          "Very true," said a third. "And who is to say if our attempt would be successful? He
has survived other attempts, and it would be a waste to destroy some of the resources of this
world in a fit of panic."
          "Panic!" cried the first. "I merely realize the importance of eliminating this meddler
without delay, before he grows stronger. How many problems has he created for us already?
He's interfered with our operations. He's crippled out financial efforts. He's nullified any
number of operatives we've attempted to place in their organization. Each day makes him
that much more dangerous."
          A fourth commented, "We will merely follow our traditional course of operating through
locals and give them the needed... motivation and direction."
          "And you actually think this inconsequential human general that you have chosen can
actually accomplish what we need him to? Pfaah! We need to be certain. You are allowing
your emotional attachments to this one continuum to steal a golden opportunity from us!"
          "Our foes in the Circle have no base on this world, and only the one agent. If we
destroy a promising world to try to eliminate this solitary source of irritation..."
          "'Irritation?!'"
          "Yes, 'irritation'. You are relatively new to our ranks, my dear colleague, and must learn
to take a more long term view. History is long, and our opportunities will be numerous. Let us
give this 'inconsequential human', as you call him, a chance. Look at what some of the
humans of this world have managed in the past, and without our interference."
          "Aberrations, not to be counted on."
          "Which is why we will give this one some technological assistance. He will be a useful
tool, and if he fails, we lose nothing because we risk nothing."
          "Bah! You are making a mistake. It is the perfect time."
          "If so, then you will have the right to say that you were correct, and you will gain 'face'.
Next time, your voice will be the greater for your wisdom."
          "I do not care about the next time! Nor do I care about 'face'. I care about this wasted
opportunity!"
          "Patience is necessary when changing the history of worlds, and 'face' is a far greater
asset than you imagine. We will give this general a chance. The majority has spoken."

                                        ************

          "Are you sure it's all right, Bets?" His hand paused in its progress down her bare
shoulder. The concern in Warren's voice was obvious.
          "Yes. I'll be fine, luv. It's just going to take a bit of getting used to. Don't let's
worry about it." She sounded somewhat removed emotionally. She didn't turn, but
stared out the window of their penthouse at nothing.
          Taking her at her word, he leaned down and gently kissed the shoulder he had
been caressing. She relaxed slightly and leaned back against him, the warm tone of her
Asian complexion startling in its contrast to his sky-blue skin.
          It was always so different... making love without really "feeling" Warren. She knew
it should be the same physically, but with her psychic abilities locked away (due to the
episode with the Shadow King), the same abilities she subconsciously used to sense his
emotions, she felt she needed more. More and more often, she needed the sexual heat
triggered by the mixture of danger and the Crimson Dawn more than ever. Without it, sex
was just an aerobic workout for her.
          But she would try to see that Angel never had reason to suspect. She loved him
too much for that.
          He reached around, and murmuring gently into her ear, his hands came up to
caress her amazing breasts. Warren was always astounded by Betsy's breasts... perfect
and firm, too large to be contained in one hand, their nipples prominent and brown. He
squeezed her chest and she sighed slightly, her hand idly finding its way back to wrap
around his growing erection
          Angel felt so amazingly lucky at times. Elizabeth was possibly the most beautiful,
exotic woman he had ever known.
          Then why did something feel wrong?
          After several more minutes of kissing and caressing, she led him over to the
expensive overstuffed couch that sat facing the balcony windows. Putting a hand to his
chest to make him stay, she moved quickly into their bedroom, and he heard her open
one of the drawers by their bed. She returned in a moment with a familiar tube.
          He smiled knowingly at her as she squeezed some of the lubricant onto her hand,
then she began to stroke his startlingly blue penis, applying the lubricant sensually over
the entire length, and he moaned appreciatively as she did so.
          Being struck again by the irony of the phrase, she smiled as she caressed his
testicles and thought to herself, "Well, here's one man who thinks nothing about the term
'blue balls'."
          After just a few more strokes, he was hard and ready for action, so she slowly
leaned forward over the back of their couch, gazing back over her shoulder with a "come
hither" look as she presented him with one of his favorite views. Angel preferred to make
love in some kind of standing position because in that way his wings didn't interfere, and
after being lovers for this long, Betsy knew which positions were his favorite.
          Lowering her eyelids sensuously, she slowly wiggled her marvelous backside in
his direction and said expectantly, "Well...?"
          It was all the invitation he needed.
          She reached back between her sleek thighs and spread her lips for him, and he
eagerly moved up behind her, his earlier misgivings forgotten in the heat of the moment,
and with a grateful moan, her pushed his tool full-length into Betsy's waiting pussy. It
was a good thing she had used the lubricant, because her own lubrication wasn't really
flowing yet.
          She clenched the muscles of her vagina around him several times, and he put his
hands on her shapely hips as he began to slowly stroke into her.
          He moved slowly, retreating until the head of his cock was just barely in her, then
stroking in full length, using the angle that he knew put the greatest friction against her
sensitive clit, until he was snug to her hips, then he would repeat the motion again and
again.
          Warren did his best to stretch things out, hoping to increase Betsy's pleasure, but
she realized silently that it just wasn't happening for her. Instead, she decided to
concentrate on Warren's pleasure. The next time he tried to slow their rhythm
momentarily to prevent his climaxing, she countered by speeding things up and thrust
back forcefully, reaching around to grasp him firmly and pull him deep within her.
          She tried to enjoy herself, and she did somewhat, but the complete lack of
feedback from her empathy deadened her usual passion. So she concentrated on
making Warren think it was wonderful, and she did something she had seldom needed to
do... she faked it.
          With a groan, they began to rock in unison, and she urged him on, driving herself
back with greater urgency. After only a dozen strokes, she knew he was almost there.
She became more vocal, her cries of "ahhh... Ahhh... AHHH!..." rising in pitch and
volume. Her reaction must have been convincing, because in just a few moments,
Warren caught his breath, strained, and with a gasp, he pushed in as deeply as he could
reach and came.
          Betsy's lips curved up in a rare smile as she felt him empty himself into her. She
squeezed him with the muscles of her vagina, trying to coax every bit of pleasure out of
Warren that she could. His answering groan told her just how effective she was being.
          Good.
          Now, if she could only arrange for some danger on a regular basis, maybe she
could enjoy herself equally as much.

                                        ************

          "Good evening, General. And what might we do for you?" The silhouette on the
video pick-up was as anonymous as a grain of sand. Even his voice had been computermasked.
          "I find that I am in need of certain special items which your firm might be able to
supply." The shadow nodded.
          "That is largely the basis for our business. What specifically is it you wish to
acquire?"
          "I find that we are having some trouble in my country with the mutant problem. I
need a means of control. Most of the conventional means are indiscriminate and...
ineffectual."
          "Aahh... We are, you must understand, highly reluctant to part with such items.
The justification would need to be extreme to motivate my partners and I to provide what
you ask for." With the artificially altered inflection, it was difficult to tell if it was a polite
refusal or a bargaining ploy to jack up the price.
          "Depending on the efficiency of the device, I would be willing to pay handsomely."
          The silhouette considered. General Daoud al Masid was technically the number
three man in the political structure of Irafan behind the Emir and his eldest son, the Heir
Apparent, and while he did control the army, the forces at his disposal were of minimal
consequence both in size and ability on a world scale. On the other hand, he did make
many of the political decisions for his government and had the vast wealth from the oil
revenues granted him by his grateful Emir. The politically astute knew that al Masid was
more than capable of deposing the ruling family, thus making him the de facto power in
his country, and well able to afford virtually any price they might demand. The petroleum
reserves of Irafan were a tremendous source of both political and economic power, and
of far greater importance than the country's piddling army.
          The silhouette decided to at least draw out the discussion to see where it might
lead.
          "We had to employ unusual measures to see that a counter-agent device was not
invented, causing us to use operatives outside our organization to accomplish our ends...
something we are loathe to do."
          Winnifred Collier, the director of the government department where the research
for the device had been taking place, was someone who fancied herself a brilliant woman
of science and power, worthy of being included in the ranks of AIM. When she had been
approached with the suggestion that stifling a certain project might be a way for her to
gain membership in AIM, she had been more than willing to aid them in their efforts,
eliminating the project most effectively. But despite her self-aggrandizement, Collier was
only an administrator who could recognize and nurture potential, with no true genius of
her own. It was unfortunate that the actual researcher in charge, Jacobson, had been
unwilling to join their ranks. He was a much more suitable candidate, and far more
brilliant. It would have made Collier's involvement and the two subsequent attempts on
Jacobson's life unnecessary. That he had managed to evade the team assigned to
eliminate him went far to prove his suitability.
          The General seemed to read the AIM agent's mind when he asked, "Wouldn't a
simple assassination have been sufficient?"
          "Normally, I would not discuss AIM business with outsiders, but as a prospective
client, I am willing to tell you that eliminating the researcher would have only delayed the
development, not prevented it."
          "A bomb then, to remove both individual and records." The General was
conversant with most of the terrorist methods of operation, having been one himself in
the not-so-distant past.
          "One can seldom bomb a top security US Federal facility with impunity, General.
Americans may be fools, but they can still prove occasionally to be vindictive. It is a
similar reason you don't try to steal one of the existing devices in the possession of
someone such as SHIELD."
          "Ah..." nodded the General. "Not a prospect to be taken lightly, I agree."
          "Furthermore, though the chance was remote, failure would have drawn unwanted
attention to the importance of the project... something we needed to avoid at all costs."
          The shadowy figure was not about to admit to his client that the American
researcher Jacobson was alive and well and currently keeping a very low profile,
potentially even making the very devices the General was inquiring after obsolete.
          "There is, however, something I must justify to my colleagues, General, and that is
why I should sell such powerful devices to a person who is... how shall I put this, because
I intend no offense... a person who belongs to a religion whose more fundamentalist
members are known for a certain lack of charity towards those not of your faith?"
The military man looked surprised.
          "AIM is concerning itself with the motivations of its clients now? I understood your
group to be motivated more by finance than politics."
          "Indeed we are, General. Indeed we are. But AIM is above all an organization
founded in science. We would be disappointed to find that our technical assistance was
being used to bolster another Middle Eastern theocracy."
          The General smiled. Foolish Europeans... always making the assumption that all
Arabic-speaking people were sword-waving Islamic fanatics ready to cry "Jihad!" at the
slightest provocation. Men of science... ha! They could be as ignorant as any other
person.
          "Then you may assure your colleagues that, while I am a devoted follower of the
ways of The Prophet and I will denounce any who say otherwise as a detestable liar," the
General's words virtually dripped insincerity, "should I find that certain... political
realignments take place, I have always felt my country might benefit greatly from a more
scientific approach to government."
          In fact, General al Masid was of the private opinion that any religious belief was a
weakness to be avoided, a superstitious lot of arbitrary rules to restrict the behavior of the
masses. This was especially true of the fantastic ideas of these Western cultures... a
particularly virulent form of delusion that should be wiped out. At least the Koran had
something to offer and could be paid lip-service.
          The idea of religious freedom was repugnant to him. Anything that tried to dictate
the actions of Daoud al Masid was something he wished to stamp out. His own father
had used the words of the Prophet to justify the most tyrannical treatment of his family,
and had the consequence of making the son see religion in quite a different light. Faith
was something to be used to manipulate those around you to do your will. But the strong
didn't let anyone or anything tell them what was right or wrong. They did as they wished,
and the General thought himself strong indeed. Once he had put his plans into action, he
would be able to get rid of this charade with the Emir and his family, then he could begin
to move his country towards a more enlightened form of government... government by
the will of al Masid.
          The AIM representative allowed himself to be reassured by the words.
          "Then we have only to settle on a price."
          An exchange was set for several days later at a neutral place mutually agreed
upon.

                                        ************

          As Professor Xavier gazed out the window of his family home in New York state,
even the disrepair left in the wake of Zero Tolerance to his ancestral home could not
dampen his mood of optimism.
          Things were going well for the cause of mutant-human relations. Bastion was no
longer a threat. The entire Onslaught fiasco had largely died down, paranoia giving way
to reason. In light of some of the new evidence, there had even been a proposal in
Washington to lift the X-Men's outlaw status. Even though the Professor's personal
fortune had largely gone to satisfy judgments and fines, legal fees and damage control,
the X-Men still survived.
          Somehow, they would always survive.
          And that, after all, was what mattered.

                                        ************

          "Here is the merchandise we promised, General," said the figure within the
anonymous assemblage that served as isolation suit, disguise, and armor. He indicated
the open crate with the five devices and their surplus power packs cradled within.
          The buyer removed one from its protective surroundings.
          "They seem to be just a modified pulse rifle."
          "We felt that the familiarity in design would assist those using them. They are
much more than they appear at first glance."
          As he hefted one of the units and sighted down its length, he asked, "And how
long does this negating effect on a mutant's powers last?"
          "That depends on the resources of the target and the accuracy of the shot, the
cranium and spinal column being the most vulnerable areas. Even a near miss can
cause a disruption of powers for up to an hour, while a direct hit may incapacitate the
individual for up to seventy-two hours. A single charge should last for up to sixty blasts."
          "Good. That should prove sufficient for my purposes."
          He aimed the gun towards one of the AIM agents. The agent gave no sign of
nervousness. He was not a mutant, and so he knew the beam would have no effect on
him.
          The General continued. "I am assuming that you will continue to see that these
units do not become prematurely obsolete."
          "We will, of course, try to protect our interests, but it would be impossible to
guarantee. After all, if you bought a rifle, you would not expect the maker to guarantee
that no one would invent Kevlar."
          "A normal rifle does not cost the equivalent of a small country's gross national
product."
          But the General's reply was largely pro forma, and had little to do with the thought
that was rapidly taking shape in his mind.
          As he looked around the room at the AIM agents and their faceless suits, a very
appealing idea was beginning to form. He was a man who firmly believed in "plausible
deniability" in all things when dealing with the stage of world opinion, considering the
Occidental tendency to interfere with whatever they didn't like. Ever since his days as a
terrorist, operating through hirelings was second nature to him, allowing him to appear as
outraged as any other if things went badly while still accomplishing his ends. It was a
pattern he intended to follow closely at this time.
          He examined the yellow-suited AIMers in a new light. Here was a known terrorist
group, brilliant and anonymous, even possibly to one another, with advanced weaponry,
a history of violence, and no morality but science and money.
          They would be an asset of tremendous potential.
          They would also give him plausible deniability.
          The General smiled.
          "Very well," he said, picking up the thread of the previous conversation. "I
understand your position. But there is some further business that I would like to discuss,
if you are open to such. Has your firm ever considered being put on retainer?"

                                        ************


"BISHOP M'BUI INJURED IN BOMBING

"UPI--Washington, DC

          "Just hours before he was scheduled to meet with the American president and

leaders of the American civil liberties movement, Bishop Jacob M'Bui was hospitalized

after an explosion resulting from a terrorist bombing, say Federal investigators...."

          "Authorities seek Anthony Jacobson, former Federal employee and registered

mutant, for questioning concerning the bombing...."

          ".... though the APB issued for Jacobson has yet to yield results...."

          ".... several outbreaks of violence in retaliation against mutants in the greater

metropolitan area, ending in the hospitalization...."


          Xavier folded the paper and dropped it to his desk. The name of the chief suspect
in the bombing was all that the Professor had to see. With a deep sigh of regret, he sent
out word to gather his extended family together as quickly as possible.
          And things had been so close...

                                        ************

          That same evening in Irafan, Daoud al Masid had been awakened by yet another
anonymous figure, but this one obviously was not a representative of AIM. The General
was not even positive the figure was completely human. Whoever it was, the General
gave an involuntary shudder when he looked on the shrouded figure, as if someone had
walked across his grave.
          When he had realized there was someone in his apartments, the General had
produced the sidearm he kept under his pillow for just such emergencies and had turned
on the lights, but even with the room lights on, the trespasser somehow managed to
remain largely shrouded in shadow. Still, the General demanded the intruder identify
himself... herself... itself... whatever it was.
          The figure hastened to reassure the General.
          "As I said, I am a representative of an organization which wishes to see you
succeed in your undertakings, General."
          "I don't know who you are, or how you came to my private quarters, but I am quite
sure you would not find it pleasant being shot as an intruder." The General's gun did not
waver as it targeted the individual's left eye, or where he assumed the left eye should be.
          "Only a fool would turn down this help, General, and we hope that you will not
prove to be a fool."
          "People sometimes do foolish things when they are awakened out of a sound
sleep."
          "I do regret the hour, but it was necessary to see you alone." The figure moved
towards a nearby seat. "May I sit?"
          Realizing that he had to either shoot or allow the intruder to continue, he said
nothing, and the anonymous personage made their self comfortable.
          "I will come to the point. My organization feels you show great promise, and would
like to assist in your coming rise to power."
          The General, who had been wary but curious, was now much more alarmed. How
much did they know, and how? Who had leaked the information?
          "Please, General... calm. If we had wished you harm, the Emir's guards would be
holding this interview. On the contrary, sir, we wish you nothing but the best.
          "We know of your intention to remove the Emir, and we applaud your initiative. It
is high time your leadership was exerted. We also know that once you have established
yourself, shortly you will be able to absorb the neighboring emirates, then the other lesser
nations in the area inside of a year. Your campaign is logical and your diversions
adequate to keep undue attention off of yourself." The figure leaned forward
conspiratorially. "None of that 'Desert Shield' interference for you, eh, General?"
          The person returned to their chair. "The use of the mutants as scapegoats is also
excellent, and the targeting of religious leaders is sure to stir resentment on all fronts. An
inspired piece of beneficial misdirection. It should give you the time you require, what
with Security Council motions and things. Before they will probably move, we estimate
that you should control over thirty-one percent of the world's petroleum reserves... quite a
sizable club with which to threaten the West.
          "That would make you one of the two or three most powerful men in the world.
Not bad for about two year's work. In just a year or two more, you would be the most
powerful individual on Earth."
          Al Masid was almost in shock. The individual knew everything about his plan,
even down to his time-table. Now that he had secured the services of AIM and their
advanced armaments, it was just a matter of days before he could move on the palace.
          The stranger interrupted the General's thoughts.
          "We are very pleased with your intentions, sir, but if you intend to create greater
division in the West between the mutants and normals, you must have some secure
method of selecting your targets, especially those who are not obviously mutant."
          A hand of indeterminate gender came from under the cloak holding what appeared
to be two pair of light-weight night-vision goggles.
          "These devices will allow the wearer to tell at a glance if an individual is mutant or
not. They work equally well under all lighting conditions, even pitch blackness."
          "And what do you wish in return?" Regardless of how much they might wish to
see him succeed, al Masid knew there was always a price.
          The stranger produced a folder.
          "This is a picture of an individual we deem to be of extreme danger to your cause,
General. He has caused our group some inconvenience in the past, and we do not wish
to have it continue. We are certain that he will become involved at some time, and we
feel that you would be well advised to remove him as soon possible.
          "But do not let his appearance deceive you. He is far more than he appears, and
harder to kill than a cockroach. If you attempt to kill him, you must be certain. Obtain a
lever against him, gain every advantage you can, and do not move prematurely. He is
your greatest enemy, General, whether you know it or not."
          Curiosity made the General set aside his gun and open the offered folder. The
photograph wasn't of especially good quality, but it might be enough to help pick him out
of a crowd.
          The name at the bottom of the man's photo was "Harlequin".

                                        ************

          Anthony Jacobson's adrenaline was pumping fast as he waited in the dim half-light
of the warehouse for his pursuers to catch up with him, the dark purple skin-suit of his
own creation melding him into the shadows he reinforced with his mutant ability.
          He had been framed for the attempt on Bishop M'bui's life, the man who was
probably the single most beloved figure from the entire continent of Africa. The news
talked of his being an unstable former employee of the US government who had been
released from his job for "security reasons", yatta, yatta, yatta... No one had been hurt
badly in the explosion, but everyone was screaming for blood... his. He would have been
much more popular if he had been the one to kill Candidate Creed. At least then he
would have had a few people who liked him, but an attempt on the religious figure who
was one of the greatest civil rights leaders of modern times left him without any
defenders except for a few militant racial supremacists, even if he hadn't done it.
          Since he had been let go from his lab job ten months before, he had narrowly
escaped attempts on his life on two different occasions, forcing him to go underground.
He was surprised that the government would go so far after his dismissal. If they had
wanted to, why they hadn't just killed him while he still worked for them, he didn't
understand. Why give him the advanced warning by firing him first? And why had the
attempts suddenly ceased? It just didn't quite sound right somehow.
          It had been over seven months since the last attempt on his life, so he had thought
maybe they had just been a warning, but now this latest cock-and-bull story came up, just
as he had been easing up on his precautions. He had finally dared to try to re-enter
society only a few weeks ago, and now this. He was getting the feeling that someone
truly didn't like him very much.
          Concerning the attempt on M'bui, he had already been found guilty by the press.
He was forced to admit it was a pretty decent frame. A car matching his with the same
license plates and driven by a man of his general description was seen speeding away
from the scene moments before the blast. Fragments from the explosive device had
been tracked to a purchase made with his credit card. Whoever was actually behind it
was sitting back having a good laugh at his expense. Some day, he would figure out who
it was that had it in for him, and then he would have a new purpose in life for a while.
          It was ironic that his pursuers today weren't the Federal authorities, but the outlaw
X-Men, intent on turning him over to authorities for his supposed crimes. What was
especially ironic was that his former lover, Jean Grey, was among those chasing him.
          Under different circumstances, he might have become one of the X-Men himself.
Xavier knew Renegade (as Jacobson had taken to calling himself recently) was only
slightly less brilliant than Hank McCoy, and a scientist of excellent repute until the antimutant
sentiment stirred up by Zero Tolerance had cost him his position with the
government labs where he headed up a research section. That wasn't the official reason,
but he knew better. His mutation wasn't obvious, but he had never denied his heritage,
so when the witch-hunt had begun, his high-security position made him an ideal target for
discrimination. With security as an excuse, he couldn't protest, even if he had been so
inclined. Sometimes the truth was far less believable that the stated reason. End of
career. Fin.
          How he had gotten here was really of no importance any more. He had been
tracked to this set of abandoned buildings in one of the run-down wharf areas of the city
by a portion of the X-Men. So far he had spotted Storm, Cyclops, Wolverine and Jean
Grey, and that was more than enough to be able to take him down without even breaking
much of a sweat. His light manipulation mutation was useful, producing anything from
absolute darkness in his immediate vicinity to powerful laser-like beams of coherent light,
but he could do nothing to mask his scent from Logan if he should get within range, or
mask his mental signature from Jean.
          Jean... gods but Summers was a lucky son-of-a-bitch. If things had been
different...
          Forget it, he told himself. That was a lifetime ago. Jean had a better life with
Scott than she might have had with some guy who both sides suspected of being an
enemy.
          As if his thoughts had taken form, a voice said, "Hello, Tony." Jean's rich alto sent
a shiver through him. He turned to see her hovering about ten feet behind him, her red
hair billowing out around her, her amazing breasts straining the fabric of her X-Man outfit,
her shapely legs tapering into her boots... legs that he remembered well from those
wonderful times they had been lovingly wrapped around his waist, urging him on.
          Ancient history, idiot. Live in the now, or you're toast.
          She must have used her telekinesis to float in through the broken skylight above
without his hearing her. Damn! He'd been concentrating on the wrong direction and she
had snuck up on his blind side.
          "Hello, Jean. I'm sorry I can't say I'm glad to see you. Still, I'd rather it be you than
Scott or Logan."
          "You need to come with us, Tony. Please. If you don't, you'll never be able to
clear yourself." She settled to the ground and moved to within a few feet of him. She
knew she was safe with Tony.
          He gave a humorless smile. "I've been convicted by the press, the public, and
everyone else who has seen a TV or newspaper in the last twenty-four hours. This
frame's too tight, Jean. I'll never be acquitted. The parties responsible would have to
confess before they'd let me go."
          "You don't have any choice, Tony. The damage you're doing by running is making
things worse for mutants everywhere. You won't hurt me to escape, I know, and I can't
just let you walk away... as much as I might want to. I'm sorry." She was still attracted
strongly to him, even though they had been forced to go separate ways long before she
had ever become involved with Scott.
          "You're right. I'd never hurt you to escape." He produced a small glass vial of just
a few cc's in volume. "That's why it's a good thing I brought this along." And with that, he
popped the stopper off the vial.
          Jean gasped slightly at the implication of some other kind of danger. It was
exactly the wrong thing to do under the circumstances. A scent different from any she
had ever known hit her. Her heart began to pound in her chest, and all of her
suppressed desire for Tony came boiling back to the surface. God, but she wanted him!
          Her eyes involuntarily dropped to his crotch, and she could see his cock swelling
under the tight fabric as she watched. What was happening to them? Where had this
overwhelming surge of lust come from?
          Tony explained for her benefit. "The vial contains a little something I've developed
on my own... a synthetic version of human pheromones, several hundred times as potent
as what humans normally give off when in rut. Works on both sexes. It began as a cure
for impotence, but turned out to be too potent for commercial use.
          "Did you know that smell is the sense most strongly associated with memory? It
makes a direct path to the brain and can override all other processes, including the
judgment, and inhibitions, and anything else that might get in its way. It simply bypasses
all other brain functions, peels away millions of years of evolution and strips us down to
our most... primal." He slowly moved towards her as he spoke, and by the time he had
finished, his chest was inches from her own, his face so close she could feel his breath.
Her own breath was coming in shorter gasps as she fought the spell of the scent
that was thick in her nostrils. Her nipples were tightening and her pussy lubricating even
without him touching her. And she wanted him to touch her. She wanted to touch him,
too. She wanted to touch his cock, to take it in her hand, to lovingly stroke it like she had
before.
          Some part of her was saying "No, I love Scott... this isn't right." But when he
reached up to part the seam in the front of her outfit, she wasn't able to make the
slightest protest. He peeled the skin-tight fabric from her without resistance, and her
heavy breasts swung free from their confinement, her nipples crinkled in anticipation. It
was as if every inhibition had been locked away and she was operating purely on
hormones. His hands cupped and caressed her magnificent breasts, loving the exquisite
feel of them, rolling her stiff nipples between his thumb and forefinger, making her moan
and lean into his hands as she relished the sensation. He paused in his manipulations
as she helped to strip herself bare in seconds, and then she was helping him to do the
same until they were both naked in the dim air.
          He took the small vial and carefully applied the few drops it contained to the scalp
of her gorgeous red hair right at her hair-line, and the scent almost made her faint. There
was no more resistance left in her. She was no longer herself, no longer Jean Grey-
Summers. She was an animal in heat and wanted to please and be pleased by this man
any way she could.
          He placed his hands on her shoulders and Jean gladly sank to her knees in front
of him, his prick jutting up stiffly in front of her. She moved forward slowly until her
breasts pressed against his muscular thighs and his erection brushed her cheek.
          "What do you want, Jean?", he asked. "You can have whatever you want. What
is it?"
          She answered him by bringing one hand up to each of her breasts and squeezing.
She moaned her delight at the wickedly uninhibited sensation of her hands on her own
chest, giving herself pleasure in front of a man. Then she realized that she could
pleasure both of them at the same time, and she pressed her tits in around his cock and
began to move slowly, up and down, up and down, sliding his erection between her
compressed tits and groaning as she reveled in the act. She loved the feel of him
between her breasts, the hardness of him stroking into her cleavage, and her hands
clenched more tightly, cruelly indenting the firm flesh to the edge of pain, her nails biting
exquisitely into her distended nipples.
          She looked up at him, his firm stomach and chest, up to his handsome face as she
continued masturbating him with her globes, and a slight smile tugged at the corners of
his mouth. He slid one hand into the hair at the back of her head and he guided her
head back down... down until her willing mouth opened and she was able to wrap her
loving lips around his cock with a satisfied moan.
          The sensation of him in her mouth was perfect... just what she wanted. She
wanted to suck his cock until he couldn't hold back any more so she could drink his
come. Adjusting her position slightly, she was able to finger her wet snatch with one
hand as she squeezed one breast with the other. She wanted to swallow him whole until
she came from the sheer joy of throating him. It was wanton and sexual and more
exciting than anything she had ever known. She forced her lips down, swallowed
involuntarily as the head of his cock met the back of her throat, then with a deep breath,
she relaxed her throat muscles and took him down until her nose was buried in his pubic
hair. Her head bobbed up and down on his tool as she eagerly took him again and again
deep into her mouth, moaning her ecstasy around his meat as his hand behind her head
urged her on. Her cheeks caved in around him as she sucked avidly, then she would lick
all the way up the length of him to the tip, then slide her mouth down over him until her
tongue could lick at his balls while the crown of his prick thrilled her throat. Her mouth
caressed him lovingly as he slid his hard-on into her eager lips, and she almost lost
control and bit down when his hands replaced her own on her breasts.
Scott had sometimes wondered at some of Jean's amorous talents, but had never
asked where she had gotten her experience. It certainly wasn't something he had
anticipated, with her well-cultivated demure persona. Like a smart husband, he didn't ask
about what he really didn't want to know.
          She slid her hand behind Tony and took hold of his ass, pulling his pelvis closer as
she deep-throated his cock, sliding her fingers deeper into her throbbing pussy. When
he began to squeeze harder at her amazing tits, she realized his orgasm was nearing,
and she started to suck his cock hungrily, moaning in anticipation of his climax,
worshiping him with her moist lips, wanting him to come in her mouth so badly she had
no thought of anything else.
          His fingers found their way to her achingly-hard nipples, and then, just as he was
about to come, he clamped down on them... hard. He pinched them to the pain threshold
and twisted as he pulled her forward by them, impaling her willing mouth as she tried to
scream out in pleasure, only to have his cock fill the back of her throat and spew its hot
semen into her. Jean swallowed thirstily as he stroked his load into her mouth, and the
taste of his salty come was all it took to push her over the edge into an orgasm of her
own. As she continued drinking his sperm, she hunched and came, whimpering high in
her throat between swallows as she buried her fingers into her dripping cunt.
          After he had stroked his entire load into her, he raised her unsteadily to her feet
again.
          "Just like old times, eh, Jean?", and the sound of his voice did nothing to lessen
the desire that still burned in her. The pheromone was still strong in her nostrils, and she
found that her passion was undiminished, despite her orgasm.
          She rubbed her breasts against him, and said, "What else did you want me to do?"
          She couldn't believe she had said that, or that it was her behaving this way.
          Tony's flagging cock was still slick with her spit, and as he pulled her close and
took a deep whiff of her hair and the pheromone it held, it stirred and got hard again.
          She reached down and lovingly stroked it while looking into his eyes.
          "Here," he said, and guided her to lean over a nearby crate. She leaned forward,
her breasts swaying down and her nipples almost grazing the rough wood. Then he
stepped up behind her, and began to position himself at the opening to her slippery cunt,
but she was impatient and before he was even ready, she pushed back onto him,
impaling herself on his rod. She moaned out in pleasure as she swiveled her hips
enticingly, rejoicing in the feel of his cock buried deep within her. She was wet as a lake
and close to coming again when he stopped and withdrew completely from her. Jean
whimpered in disappointment and waved her upturned ass at Tony, trying to encourage
him to fuck her some more.
          But Tony had other ideas. "Let's try something a little different this time, shall we?"
          She felt his hardness pressing against her again, but he was aimed too high for
her. Then, as the pressure increased, some part of Jean realized what he was doing and
wanted to cry out for him to stop, but the animal in her shifted her stance and pushed
back eagerly as his cock entered her asshole.
          Without the lubrication from her pussy, he would never have made it. She felt as if
he was going to split her open. She had never dared try this before, and the pain made
her sob slightly, but the pleasure it gave her made her push back further onto him,
wanting him in her any way she could. Then he was in and buried in her anus fully, his
hips resting against her wonderfully rounded ass.
          The line between pleasure and pain faded for her, and she began to urge him on,
rocking herself back and forth, her breasts swaying with her motion, and he thrust to
meet her willingly. His hips slapped against her backside as he drove into her again and
again, her tight hole grasping his rod. When he reached forward and grabbed a breast in
each hand, the pain she had been feeling became one with her pleasure, and she began
to moan out more loudly as she got into the act. He used her breasts to pull her back
more forcefully, and she gasped and managed to get one hand free, putting it between
her legs to rub her aching pussy.
          The assault on her senses continued as he slid deep in her, pumping away as she
fingered her cunt, his hands crushing her magnificent breasts. She never imagined she
would enjoy taking it up the ass before, but she found herself soaring towards an
immense orgasm, and as it arrived, she cried out loudly, weeping with the release it
brought. Her body trembled and shook with spasm after spasm, and as she did, Tony
drove home faster, slapping against her until, with a mighty groan, he spouted his load
into her, her shudders continuing until well after he had pumped himself dry.
          As he withdrew from her, Jean gave another little whimper, whether in pleasure or
pain she didn't know, but she held onto the crate for support, her legs almost giving away
under her, temporarily exhausted by what she had experienced.
          He gently reached down and drew one hand along her cheek. The antidote he
had taken before she arrived earlier had kicked in and his sense of smell was quite dead
now, but even without the pheromone, she was still amazingly sexy, and phenomenally
attractive. He leaned forward and gently began to kiss her lips.
          "Jean, I'm sorry, but I didn't have any other option. I hope you'll forgive me
someday." He again kissed her, but she was still under the influence of the pheromone.
          She summoned strength enough to grab his face and open her lips, kissing him
passionately, her hot tongue darting into his mouth, trying to make him desire her again.
He tenderly ended the kiss and backed away slowly. Gathering up his clothes, he quickly
slipped them on while she watched him in silence, desiring him, wanting him to return to
her, to make love to her again.
          "tony..." she managed to whisper, but she was too exhausted to pursue, too
confused to be able to focus her mental powers, and still too in love with him to wish to
see him caught.
          "Goodbye, Jean." And he faded into the shadows as he moved quietly away.

          Cyclops entered the room scant moments after Renegade slipped out through the
opposite door. There was lots of room for a fugitive to hide in, so he entered softly,
paying close attention to the deeper shadows.
          A sound drew his attention, the sound of someone moving ahead and too his left.
One hand to his visor, he was ready to blast who it was when he came around the corner
of a large empty crate and was confronted by the sight of Jean, naked, her skin glistening
with sweat, swaying unsteadily on her feet.
          He was at her side in a flash. "Jean!" His anguished cry rang out as he reached
her and gathered her into his arms. The feel of his strong, protective arms around her
kicked Jean's unbridled lust surging back more strongly than ever, and she raked her
nails down his back as she mashed her aching breasts against his muscular chest. It
also brought his face next to hers, and the pheromone began its work on its next victim.
          Concern for his wife turned to uncontrollable lust in a heartbeat, and his lips met
hers in a kiss so hard their teeth grated as his tongue probed her eager mouth. Any
hesitation, any hope of restraint was lost before their lips parted. His prick was like steel
in his outfit, and Jean lost no time in trying to free it. As he shook his head and tried to
clear his thoughts one last time, Jean was peeling away his X-Man uniform, pushing it
down around his ankles. As she bent over, her cheek grazed his cock, and in that
moment he was lost.
          Before she could rise, he took her head in his hands and guided her to the kiss he
craved.
          More enthusiastically than ever before, she engulfed his erection with her full red
lips and slid them down until they met the base. With a moan, he began to pump into her
marvelous mouth as she put her hands on his hips and tried her very best to swallow his
cock.
          He was slightly smaller than Tony, but that just meant she could take more of him
in her mouth as she tossed her head and tried to suck him off.

          Scott's earlier cry had drawn Wolverine to the area, and as he slid through the
door, ready for an ambush, a scent like no other he had known struck him like a physical
blow. His super-sensitive olfactory nerves kicked in, and in less time than it took to take
a second breath, Logan was so completely over-powered by the scent that his thoughts
lost all semblance of humanity. The thin veneer of his human side had been worn thin
over recent years, so it took just one whiff to destroy any control he had over his animal
side. He was reduced to a rutting beast, and his claws shredded his uniform to free him
from its confinement. His nose and ears drew him straight to Scott and Jean, where she
was still bent over at the waist, servicing Scott's member with her talented mouth.
          Logan's first animal reaction was to attack this other male poaching on his territory,
taking this female that belonged to him, driving off or killing his competition. But as he
was almost on them, Jean began to moan each time she slid her lips down Scott's cock,
and she started to move her hips in an unconscious imitation of her bobbing head. The
movement drew Logan's gaze to her ass and pink, wet labia. Dismissing the presence of
his rival, his animal instinct drew him up to the oblivious couple. Without hesitation he
stepped up behind Jean, put a hand on each hip, and, with a single, well-placed plunge,
drove his massive tool into her waiting cunt.
          As her lips came down to take Scott to the root, she was taken completely
unaware, and Jean tried to scream with ecstasy as Logan's cock hit her cervix and she
began to come. Without the help of the chemical overriding her normal responses, she
would have cried out in pain, but with it filling her head as it did, she loved it and didn't
even care who it was, so long as he kept doing it.
          She began bobbing her head frantically, trying desperately to make Scott come in
her mouth, while at the same time driving back at Logan as he pounded into her sopping
pussy. Logan was much bigger than any man she had ever had before, and the feel of
him stretching her, striking her cervix with each well-placed stroke was perfection to her,
and she came as never before.
          In reaction to Jean's avid performance, Scott lost all restraint, grabbed her head
and began to pump himself into his beautiful wife's luscious lips. In seconds, he gave a
mighty groan of triumph and with a massive contraction came in her mouth, as she
willingly impaled her face with his shaft and swallowed greedily.
          At the sound of the other two entering the throws of climax, Logan could feel her
hot cleft clutch at his tool, eagerly encouraging him. With the cry of an animal, he
rammed home as his great prick jerked and pumped its huge load deep into her
magnificent pussy, drenching her inwardly. He held her hips still, buried almost full length
as he emptied his seed into her while she drank the last of Scott's semen.
          Jean finally let Scott fall from her mouth as she panted to regain her breath, but
each lungful of air brought more of the magic scent to her brain, and as soon as Logan
had withdrawn from her, she was ready for more.
          Her body turned around to face the magnificent cock that had made her come that
way. She wanted it to fill her again. The sight of Logan barely registered, just the semierect
penis that she desired.
          The animal inside her raised one leg up and placed a foot atop the crate next to
her, spreading the puffy lips of her dripping cunt wide, inviting him to mount her again,
some of the sperm with which he had filled her running down the inside of her thigh
unnoticed. She reached out one hand and grasped his foot-long tool, pulling him gently
towards her by the convenient handle, her hand not even able to encompass his girth.
          The touch of her fingers around his rod re-ignited the lust that had overpowered
Logan. He willingly moved closer, and again the scent scorched into his brain, driving
away his momentary passivity.
          His large hands came up to her marvelous breasts and began to knead the
swaying flesh, his fingers providing the rough treatment she desired. With just a couple
of strokes of her hand, he was erect again, and a second later, he was buried deep into
the treasure she offered him.
          They stood there for a moment, then they began to move together, and their
mutual groans of desire roused Scott from his post-orgasmic stupor. He looked at his
woman and another man in coital ecstasy, and he moved towards them as if
sleepwalking. The event made no emotional impact on him, but he still felt the need
imparted by the scent thick in the room, and his limpness was rapidly being cured.
          He was facing Jean's back now, and his eyes raked her form, roving down until
they came to rest on her luscious ass. Her motions as she fucked Logan were more
erotic than he could bear, and he stirred with new found desire. He stepped up behind
her and grasped her cheeks in each hand, squeezing her and guiding himself until the
head of his dick was at his wife's puckered hole, then he pressed forward, but wasn't able
to penetrate without lubrication. So he took his cock and rubbed it along her thigh, wiping
some of Logan's sperm and Jean's juice onto himself until he was slick with their fluids.
Then he returned his shaft to her rear entrance and applied pressure. Jean was already
crying out in response to Logan's actions, but she gasped and gave a little scream as the
head of Scott's rigid rod managed to force its way into her from behind. Then he thrust
forward and slid in to the hilt as Jean screamed out, filled both anally and vaginally. In
seconds she was thrashing and coming as if possessed, which, in a way, she was.

          Jean's violent cries finally reached the ears of the final X-Man on the scene...
Storm. The team leader flew towards the cries, and traced the sound through the same
broken skylight Jean had entered earlier. Flying in, she searched for the source of the
scream, tracking it quickly from the air.
          For a brief moment, her mind thought they were engaged in a struggle with one
another, but then the reality of what she was seeing dawned on her. She was outraged
that Scott and Logan would abuse Jean in such a way! She swooped down and landed,
intending to pull both men away from Jean.
          "Logan, stop! What are you doing?" She seized him by the shoulders and
violently pulled him back, making him lose contact with Jean. But as she did, the
insidious scent of the pheromone reached her and she gasped. As Logan spun to face
her, his claws flashed out of their sheaths, ready to strike down the attacker who forced
him from his prize. They both hesitated for just a second, just long enough for her head
to begin to swim with the intoxicatingly sexual scent, just long enough for him to realize
that the party who faced him was most definitely a female.
          As the old saying goes, he who hesitates is lost, and they were both lost in that
moment. Storm felt her passions take control of her, the nipples crowning her superb
breasts trying to break through the fabric of her uniform, the natural inhibitions
evaporating before the blast-furnace heat coming from her loins. Logan's massive
erection beckoned her.
          Jean temporarily forgotten, his sensitive nose recognized another female in heat,
so instead of slicing her open with his claws, he hooked one claw into the neck of her
uniform and the fabric parted easily to its razor edge. He drew his hand downward until
he had split her skin-suit from top to bottom. With a yank of one massive paw, he ripped
the remaining fabric from her body.
          Storm could only stand there, stunned, completely powerless before the
imperative of the pheromone and Logan's animal desire. Naked, she was one of the
most magnificent sights possible: her white hair haloed her beautiful cafe-au-lait face; her
phenomenal breasts rising and falling with her labored breath... breasts that men would
die for a chance to touch, to feel their weight in their hands; her flat, muscular stomach;
her long, shapely legs; her round, firm ass; the blatantly female mound between her
thighs, bedecked with its sparse, narrow patch of shocking silver-white pubic hair.
          Logan saw none of this. He seized her by one arm and sent her sprawling over
the crate Jean had been using to support her leg.
          Oblivious to the conflict resolving itself nearby, Jean was momentarily
disappointed by the disappearance of the tool assaulting her vagina, but she gamely
brought down her leg, bent over and concentrated on the other cock in her ass.
          Storm sprawled flat on her back over the crate in front of Jean, watching Logan as
he slowly moved towards her. She was paying no attention to Jean, who was resting a
hand on the edge of the same crate she lay sprawled across. So she was completely
unprepared for what happened next. Presented with a beautiful brown cunt just inches
from her face, Jean quite matter-of-factly lowered her sex-hungry mouth to Storm's lower
lips and began to tongue her.
          As Jean's talented mouth busied itself between her thighs, Storm went limp and
her head fell back over the edge of the crate, a moan of pleasure escaping her dark lips.
Her eyes closed as Jean's tongue lapped at her pussy, making her shudder in delight. It
had been so long since she had let herself go to the pleasures of the flesh, her legendary
control crumbled in seconds as years of self-denial were carried away on a tide of
overwhelming lust.
          Her attention was momentarily diverted as something touched the lips of her
mouth... something smelling strongly of sex. Her eyes instinctively opened to see
Logan's massive erection in her face. She gasped at the unexpected sight, and as her
lips opened, he pushed his cock into her upturned face, impaling her lips with his tool.
          Deprived of Jean's pussy, some part of Logan's animal desire decided Storm's
mouth would serve as well. He began to pump his huge organ into her mouth, fucking
her pink and coffee-colored lips as they wrapped around his dick.
          After a second of panic, the influence of the pheromone again took control, and
with Jean joyfully eating her pussy and Logan's cock sliding into her mouth, Storm lost
any hesitancy. She began moaning in pleasure as he used her mouth, and her hands
came up to crush her plentiful breasts as she began sucking Logan's tool for all she was
worth. Soon she was as lost in her desires as the others, taking Logan's cock as far
down her greedy throat as she could, her eyes closed, her lips ovaled tightly around him
as she gladly allowed him to face-fuck her.
          Soon, Scott felt the rush of his approaching orgasm and began to pound into
Jean's ass, groaning and trying to lift her off the ground with the force of his motions. He
came and Jean's sex-sodden body welcomed the treatment as she began another in a
series of orgasms, trying to share her joy by burying her face in Strom's sweet pussy. As
she came, she zeroed in on Storm's erect clit and began sucking on it hard. The Queen
of the Elements soared, and as Logan groaned and began to ram his cock down her
eager throat, she almost blacked out as she exploded in the greatest orgasm of her life.
          As she arched her back, her hands mashing her huge, overly-sensitive mammaries,
Logan growled loudly and spent himself, his cock bucking and jerking as he filled her
waiting mouth with his come, and she began swallowing thirstily, blissfully receiving each
gulp. She couldn't believe how much semen he pumped into her grateful mouth, but she
kept sucking his cock until she had drained every slick, sensuous drop.
          During the next two hours, the four performed more combinations and variations
than ever. It was like some bizarre living demonstration of the Kama Sutra. Logan
fucked Storm while she ate Jean's red-haired pussy and Jean sucked off Scott yet again.
Then Scott took Storm doggy-style while Logan took Jean atop the crate they had used
earlier. After that, Scott used Storm's breasts to masturbate himself for a while, then fed
his cock to her until he came. At the same time, Logan did the same with Jean, who had
more trouble that Storm in fitting his huge dick in her mouth, but she gladly tried until she
finally managed to coax his semen into her expectant mouth. Then Logan and Scott both
took Storm at once, Logan using her cunt as Scott filled her ass, and Storm again drove
her tongue into Jean's thoroughly-used snatch.
          Finally, just as Tony had designed it to do, the pheromone reached the limit of its
chemical stability upon being exposed to oxygen and broke down into inert components.
By the time the effects wore off, all four lay exhausted, sore, and amazingly sated, (and
Renegade was far, far away). Scott's testicles felt like rung-out husks, his cock red and
chafed. Jean and Storm could barely walk. Only Logan with his remarkable healing
ability was even halfway functional.
          As they came back to their senses, Jean explained what had driven them all so
mad. Logan was silent and brooding, Scott was unsure, Jean simply too exhausted to
feel anything.
          Finally, Storm broke the awkward silence. "All in all, I must say that this entire
episode has been quite... educational."
          Scott snorted. "Yeah, it certainly was... interesting."
          Jean perked up enough to say, "And even occasionally... enjoyable."
          Logan's gruff voice added, "Wouldn't mind trying it again, but without the stinkum
next time. I don't like the little head doin' the thinking for the big head."
          Storm actually smiled. "Perhaps after we have all had an opportunity to recover..."

