Chapter 11 - A Little Bit of X: Chapter 11


                                                    A Little Bit of X

                                                        by Volpone

                                                        Chapter 11:

          Warren Worthington III was brooding as he stood alone, looking out the balcony
window of their penthouse... No, he corrected himself... not theirs... his. Betsy had been gone
for a couple of weeks now, and he had to admit that it was his own fault. She wouldn't have
left on her own, except he had continued to pick at the sore spot in their relationship, making it
clear that he somehow blamed her for the problem. He kicked himself at least a dozen times
every day over the way things had gone. If only he'd been able to leave things alone, she
might still be here. She'd made a sacrifice for the good of the entire world, and he'd punished
her for it almost every day.
          As he had each day for the past week, he had almost convinced himself to go and
apologize to her, to ask her to come back, when he caught a slight motion out of the corner of
his eye. Turning, he almost saw the intruder before the sting of the anesthetic dart bit into his
neck, and his world went dark.

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

          The General decided that he was taking no chances with Jacobson's research being
taken up by another researcher, despite AIM's reluctance to do so on their own part.
          The destruction of the Federal lab which formerly employed Anthony Jacobson was
almost a carbon copy of the devastation of the Russian lab just days before. Every piece of
apparatus more complex than a pocket calculator was destroyed in a thorough manner.
Computers seemed to come in for the most thorough attention, both desktop and the large
system computers used for heavier jobs of analysis. The soldiers on security duty were no
more successful than their Russian counterparts in preventing the wanton destruction or
protecting themselves. Technicians unlucky enough to get in the way fared no better, though
this time no one lost their life in the process, but that was due to the quick thinking of some
early arrivals on the scene.
          Government spokesmen stated that they had several leads on who had perpetrated the
crimes, and that investigators would not stop until the criminals were brought to justice.
          In his New York embassy, the Colonel smiled at the arrogance of the Americans. They
had no idea what they were up against this time. Not even the X-Men would be able to do a
thing about it. And, after all, that was the real beauty of the General's campaign.

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

          Angel awoke by slow stages, the effects of the tranquilizer dart slowly washing out of
his system until he was able to focus enough to make out his surroundings. What he saw
didn't reassure him. The room was windowless, nondescript in that generic, run-down
commercial manner. He could have been in Melbourne, Tokyo, or just across town from his
penthouse apartment.
          He tried to unkink his back and shoulders, only to discover that his wings had been
securely bound in straps of some extremely sturdy material, and the rest of him was bound to
the seat as well which, to judge from the feel of the surface behind his head, was in turn
attached to a large pipe or metal support of some nature. His left wing felt wrenched, probably
by falling on it when he had passed out from the knock-out dart.
          After just a couple of moments of flexing and turning, straining against his restraints,
Warren came to the rapid conclusion that whoever his captors were, they knew their business
and had prepared well. He couldn't even sense the slightest loosening of his bonds.
          He considered calling out, but wasn't sure what result that might bring. There were no
windows, and he heard no other sounds from within the building. Chances that he might be
heard by someone other than those who had brought him here were very slight or they
wouldn't have left him ungagged. His shouting might merely serve to irritate his kidnappers,
and he didn't know just what they were capable of yet.
          The door opened, revealing another small room beyond as nondescript as the one he
occupied, and a woman he had never seen before entered. She was attractive, probably
somewhere in her late twenties, with absolutely white hair, white skin, and red lips. She wore
a green outfit that made her look like something out of a creative dominatrix catalog. Her
headdress was odd, probably metallic, crossing her forehead at the hairline, widening at the
center until it came to a point between her eyes, with straight flat guards running down in front
of her ears, ending about at her jawline. She wore a choker of similar green color, and a tight-fitting
bodice that covered her strategically but left her thighs, shoulders, and much of her bustline
exposed, dropping dangerously low at her cleavage while its squared-off inner corners
covered enough to prevent her being arrested on the street... barely. The outfit was
completed by high boots in the same shade. All in all, she looked like the reason the fracas
started.
          "Good, you're awake. My friend said you would be. Here, your mouth is probably dry.
It's an aftereffect of the tranquilizer." She held out a glass of fruit juice with a straw.
          He turned his head away.
          "Ah, yes. Worthington pride. Well, it's available if you wish." She set the glass aside,
took off her cape, draping it over the back of a nearby chair, and turned back to examine him
very carefully, noting that he was much better looking than she had first judged. His
intelligence and intensity weren't visible when he was unconscious.
          The blue shade of his skin actually made him more attractive.
          He was rich, too. That never hurt.
          She pulled up the chair which held her cape and sat facing him, leaning forward to get a
little closer. Warren's eyes involuntarily darted to the cleavage that her position emphasized.
          Inwardly, Bianca smiled. Mystique was right. These men all thought with their gonads.
It would be easy to manipulate this one that way.
          "Just so that you know, we do not wish you harm. Quite the opposite, in fact. Before
you are released, you may even be grateful for our intervention."
          Angel just gave a contemptuous snort and turned his head away.
          "I'll be sure to send you a Christmas card."
          "You really don't know what has been going on while your sweetheart has been away,
do you? She's been enjoying herself quite a bit in your absence."
          Rounding on her, he spoke out of anger, largely because he had been too proud to
check up on Betsy, partly because he was still a little hazy from the aftereffects of the drug.
          "You have no idea what your talking about, do you? You're just making it up as you go
along to see what will get under my skin. Well, it won't work. I know Betsy, and now I know
you. Lies don't impress me."
          "I have no reason to lie. For what purpose? But I'm being a poor hostess. I've offered
you refreshments, seen to your accommodations, but I haven't done anything about
entertainment."
          "Curious idea of hospitality you have... and kidnapping is just to save people the trouble
of an r.s.v.p?"
          "I prefer to think of you as a guest. You will be released soon enough. In the mean
time, try to make the most of your situation."
          She rose and rolled a television over in front of his seat. Pressing the button on the
remote, the video came to life.
          "I'm sure you will find the program very entertaining, or at least educational."
          She wandered around behind him as the screen showed a nighttime exterior of a
building he did not recognize.
          Slowly, the camera moved cautiously closer, drawing neared to one particular lit
window. The sound track picked up the sound of the person filming as they softly crunched
across a gravel area, then as the camera neared the window, there were soft sounds that
could be distinguished from the distant background sounds of city life. The sounds were
obviously being muffled by the closed window, but their nature was unmistakable.
          They were the sounds of sex.
          As the camera raised up, the interior of the room and its occupants were revealed
through partially closed blinds. Actually, only the man was clearly visible at the moment, his
naked back to the window as he stood near a narrow bed. The woman was almost completely
obscured behind the man, but from the few glimpses he was able to make out, the woman
was obviously kneeling in front of the man with his hands on her head. From the motion of his
arms, it was very obvious exactly what was going on. The sounds that filtered though the
glass served only to confirm what the woman was doing, but she stayed hidden behind the
man's flexing hips. Other than an occasional fleeting glimpse of shoulder or hand, the identity
of both parties were skillfully obscured.
          Warren refused to bite. "I prefer the Discovery Channel. If you wanted to show me an
adult film, you could have at least chosen one that had a worthwhile soundtrack. I'd have to
give this one two thumbs-down."
          "Joke if it will make it easier," was his captor's response.
          He opened his mouth to make a comment about the only joke being on the screen
when the cameraman shifted his grip and Angel caught a glimpse of something that made the
retort die on his lips.
          For just the most fleeting of moments, from low down, viewed between the man's bare
calves, there was a split-second flash of the woman's pubic hair.
          It was purple.
          Warren's first thought was that it was faked, or maybe that he was mistaken.
          The woman moaned, and one of her hands reached through, between the naked man's
thighs, fingers widely spread, and the hand pressed against the man's pelvis where it joined
his lower back, pulling him closer to her hidden face.
          Warren thought he recognized the hand.
          "Uhnggg! God, but you got a great pair of lips, sugar." It was the first thing the man
had said, but Warren heaved an unconscious sigh of relief when he couldn't recognize the
voice.
          His relief was very short lived.
          There was the sound of a notable pop, and the woman replied, "All part of the service,
luv."
          When he heard the voice, Warren stopped breathing. He could recognize that voice.
          Then the woman shifted around until she could push the man back onto the bed, his
feet on the floor and the rest of him laying flat, and Warren had his first good look at the
woman.His world shook on its foundations as Betsy leaned forward over the reclining man, and
taking his huge shaft in one hand, she kissed its head.
          Blood roared in Warren's ears.
          As the man's breath hissed in through clenched teeth, Angel watched the woman he
loved slide her wonderful lips slowly down over the crown of the man's cock. Then,
concentrating orally on the head and the top three inches of his tool, she proceeded to use her
hand to jack him into her mouth with a practiced motion. She had plenty of room to stroke the
man since he must have been almost a foot long and correspondingly thick... several inches
longer than Warren himself.
          The scene continued on for several more minutes as Betsy continued to suck the
stranger's prick with obvious relish, bringing moans from her lover as she varied her pace,
using little tricks to increase his pleasure, some of which Warren recognized, some of which
were new to Betsy's repertoire. At one point, after she joined the man on the bed and
positioned herself for a sixty-nine, she took a breath, opened wide and proceeded to take him
straight down until her jaw bumped his muscular stomach, every inch of his impressive tool
disappearing into the mouth that Warren knew so well.
          Most of Warren's disbelief evaporated. It was something Betsy had done with him
many times.
          The man, spurred on by her avid performance, buried his face in her purple-haired
snatch and began flutter-tonguing with great enthusiasm, reaching up with his hands to spread
her lips to give himself more direct access to her clitoris.
          Things went on in a similar vein for a bit. Warren wanted to look away but felt
compelled to watch. Soon, the man's cunnilingus paid off as Betsy let his cock fall from her
mouth and gasped out, mashing her cunt against his mouth as she came strongly,
rhythmically hunching her back as she shook in climax.
          As her trembling subsided, she demandingly grabbed the man's cock and stroked it
strongly, shifting her position until she was on all fours (or at least on all three, since one of her
hands was occupied), and with her male companion kneeling behind her, positioned him at the
entrance to her ready pussy. With an almost feral expression, Betsy pushed herself back onto
the huge tool with a slight grimace, then when he was deeply embedded in her wetness, she
began to rock back, biting her lip in pleasure as she joyfully fucked the strange man,
punctuating her motions with inarticulate moans of excitement.
          Angel turned his face aside with a choking sound, but her taking this stranger in one of
the few positions Betsy and he had found successful was too much to accept as coincidence.
          With the sound of the two fucking away ringing in his ears, his captor leaned forward
and put her lips near his ear, whispering, "I'm sorry, but we felt you should know what she was
before you condemned us too strongly."
          With his eyes shut tight to block out the vision, Bianca looked over his shoulder and
used the opportunity to again run her eyes down the winged man with the angelic nickname.
Though the scene being acted out on the screen might be distressing to him, the sizable
swelling in his pants showed that it had other effects on him as well.
          The white woman breathed in his scent.
          Maybe it was the combination of factors that made Bianca react as she did. Most likely
it was her psychic reaction to his pain and arousal. She only knew that she suddenly wanted
to do the same as the couple on the television. It had been far too long since she had taken a
man, being locked in exile with nothing but aliens, and since her return, other factors had
gotten in the way of her satisfying her primal urges.
          Now, here was a highly attractive man, alone, vulnerable, sexually excited, and utterly
within her power.
          No... she knew that she could make things even more interesting.
          The tape finished about ten minutes later, and even though Warren hadn't seen the last
portion, he had heard every tiny sound of passion that issued from the television. His
hormones didn't care about what his heart said, they were responding to the stimulus
assaulting his ears, and he hated the erection he had which seemed to mock his anguish.
          "You really should watch it through, you know," the voice purred in his ear. "It's the only
way you'll really get her out of your system. Here," she quickly rewound the twenty minutes of
tape, "take a good look at her." And she played the tape again. And then a third time.
          By the beginning of the third time through, Warren could no longer doubt the evidence
of his own eyes, and the erection that pressed against the zipper in his slacks was like iron.
          Bianca's talent told her it was time.
          "Oh, my! I didn't realize watching it would cause such a reaction." She walked into his
field of vision, an expression of concern on her face. She leaned forward, running a hand
down the side of Warren's face as if in sympathy, again displaying her wonderful cleavage to
full advantage.
          "You poor dear. To see your woman with another man and be able to do nothing about
it, that is bad enough. But to be excited at the sight of him taking your woman like that... oh,
how humiliating!"
          She ran a hand down his chest, across the bounds that held him, then across his
stomach, until she teasingly trailed her fingers lightly across the light-weight fabric of his
trousers.
          "Still," she mused, "it does seem a shame to waste such a lovely erection. Here, let's
have a better look." And she slowly undid Warren's belt and fly. Leaning in even more, she
pressed closely enough to brush the top of one breast against his cheek as she reached into
his pants and released Angel's throbbing blue penis.
          Warren had not seriously thought about any other woman since Betsy had left, but
Bianca quickly reminded him that there were other women in the world, and that one of them
was very close indeed.
          "Now let's see... how did she start things off in the tape? Ah, yes... I seem to remember
her doing something like this," and Bianca knelt between Warren's thighs and drew her red
lips close to his manhood.
          Just as he was expecting the sensation of Bianca's mouth closing around him, she
stopped just short, so close that he could feel her moist breath against the taut blue skin of his
erection.
          "Oh, dear, I'm afraid that if I do that, you might not last long enough for anything else,
and that would be horrible, wouldn't it?" She looked up into his face, then teasingly ran her
lower lip ever so gently up the underside of him until she reached the head. Her tongue
snaked out from between her vivid lips and barely flicked at the sensitive spot where the head
and shaft joined, and his cock bucked in response, drawing a chuckle from her. He tried to
flex his hips forward, thrusting himself at her teasing mouth, but he was bound too tightly to
allow him enough freedom of movement for that.
          Looking beyond Bianca's kneeling form, he watched the tape as Betsy again pressed
the stranger back on the bed and proceeded to suck him off, and he wished that he were the
man in the film so that he could feel those lips wrap around him instead.
          "My, but aren't we impatient? You must learn to relax more. Here, your shoulders must
ache from that stiff position."
          She rose, leaving his prick standing straight up out of his lap, and she leaned forward
as her hands gripped his shoulders above the collar-bones, and she began kneading the large
muscles where his wings joined his shoulders. As she did, this brought her chest forward until
she could press his face into her mostly exposed bosom, the motion of her rubbing his
shoulders also rubbed his face into the smooth white mounds of her breasts as they tried to
escape the confines of her bodice.
          Warren refused to react for a moment, but soon capitulated as he tried to kiss the white
skin pressing against him, but when he did, she again retreated out of range. Looking down at
the hard blue penis standing at attention like a flagpole, she mockingly said, "Oh, dear, that
didn't help a bit, did it? And that," she indicated the image of Betsy deep-throating the man on
the tape as he tongued her cleft madly, "isn't helping much either. I simply don't know what to
do for you."
          She stood, looking into Warren's eyes, and she brought one hand up to her chin as if
considering the options, bringing the other arm across her midriff to support her elbow. As she
did, she idly began sucking on the tip of her index finger, a study in concentration as she
gazed at him.
          The sight of her rouged lips sucking idly on her digit again made Warren's prick buck in
response, and he involuntarily drew a deep breath as his sexual frustration grew to new
heights.
          "I just can't seem to do anything to help you, can I?" Her hand dropped from her chin
and unthinkingly traced the top contour of her left breast.
          "Well..." she drawled out the word, "there is always one thing I might do." She glanced
over her shoulder at the couple on the screen, and Warren watched as once again Betsy
began to fuck herself back onto her film partner's erection.
          Ever so slowly, Bianca began to undo the fastenings of her tight bodice, until she was
finally able to push the one-piece outfit down to the floor, leaving her clad only in her odd
headpiece, choker, and her knee-high boots. All she needed was a whip to complete the look.
          Warren sat mesmerized by the sight of the magnificent, naked woman before him, the
hunger in his eyes confirming the hunger her psychic talent told her he felt.
          The feeling of control thrilled her beyond words. She fleetingly considered releasing
him from his bonds to see if she had driven him far enough to attempt rape, but dismissed it
immediately. Besides, it could hardly be considered rape, considering the circumstances.
          She simply stood in front of him for a few moments, looking at him pityingly, her hands
slowly moving across her stomach, then up over her breasts until they reached her surprisingly
rosy nipples and pinched them, making them stand out as her areolae crinkled in response.
          Then, still watching him, she moved her hands down until they could caress the top of her
thighs and slide between, her thumbs pressing firmly between the lips of her white-haired
vagina as she moaned gently at the sensation.
          She could feel the frustration in him peak as she teased the pale lips, and she knew
that she couldn't tease him any longer.
          With a sigh of resignation, she closed the slight distance between them and ran one
finger down the length of his engorged prick. Then she turned around, and slowly made as if
to sit on his lap, but positioned him carefully until he was at the entrance to her excited pussy.
Parting her lips with her other hand, with agonizing slowness she let herself down onto his
waiting erection, until finally she was sitting firmly on his lap and his cock was almost pressed
against her cervix.
          "There, now. Is that better?" she asked, and she clenched the muscles lining her
vagina. His only response was a moan that carried with it all the pleasure and pain that had
been building inside him since he had awakened.
          "I thought so." And she began to undulate her torso slowly, rocking her pelvis and
setting up a rhythmic movement as she began to fuck her captive, stroking him strongly across
her super-sensitive clit to give herself the greatest pleasure.
          Warren had been pushed too close to the edge for far too long to think of anything but
coming as rapidly as he could. He didn't have much range of motion, but the inch or two he
did have was enough for him to flex up strongly and drive into the surprised and delighted
Bianca. All of his frustration and anger at what Betsy had done, as well as his wish to avenge
himself on this woman who had forced him to see it, all came boiling up along with his sexual
tension, and he thrust with a violence new to him.
          He didn't want to make love. He wanted to punish. He wanted to satisfy himself and
leave her gasping for more. He didn't care what this woman who had tormented him thought
or felt. He wanted, period. For the moment, that was all that mattered.
          It was fortunate for Bianca that she was so aroused by Angel's need that the violence of
his actions merely served to fuel the fires building inside her, and within seconds her
movements became erratic as she quaked and spasmed with the first orgasm she had making
love to a man in years. She began to thrash wildly, crying out loudly enough to rouse the
neighbors (had there been any). With each thrust, she would exclaim again, driving Angel to
greater effort, which in turn delighted her all the more as he slammed away.
          Suddenly, as Bianca again began to gyrate wildly and keen out her joy as another
shock of ecstasy rolled through her, Angel felt his climax come rushing up from some primal
place in his soul, and with a cry like a soul in the grip of Hell, he thrust and his semen burst
into her, drenching her inwardly as they sobbed out their mutual passion in chorus. Jet after
jet of his hot, sticky ejaculate pumped inside her, until she fell back against his chest, gasping
for breath, spent with the violence of their mutual release.

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

          "So," asked Mystique as Bianca came strolling out of the room occupied by their
captive, "did he believe it?"
          Bianca fastened her cape about her smooth, white shoulders.
          "Your performance as Psylocke was both convincing and motivational. If you ever give
up kidnapping and assassination, I'm sure you could make a career in pornography." The
cattiness came so easily to her. It helped to bolster her sense of superiority since the
unfortunate episode versus the White Queen.
          Mystique wasn't willing to let the remark pass. She had recruited Bianca LaNiege for
this job and needed her, but she was damned if she'd let her snipe at her and stay quiet.
          "I heard the response. You can be quite the screamer. I assume that you found it
'motivational' as well?"
          "Not so much as his responses to it."
          "It's so nice to enjoy one's work. I should have thought to record your interview with him
as well. We could have made it a double feature."
          Not getting the satisfaction from the exchange she had hoped for, Bianca changed the
subject while not seeming to.
          "It's not as if we're even lying to him. Psylocke is sleeping with this Harlequin. That
was obvious from their conversation."
          "I don't care if she's doing every male in America over the age of twelve. Just so long
as it keeps Worthington thoroughly off balance. We don't need him escaping before we have
our rendezvous with Harlequin. Angel's an X-Man. He can be resourceful when he needs to
be."
          Bianca smiled slightly as she turned away.
          "So I discovered."

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

          “Hgn! Hgn! Hgn!” Knockout grunted in time to Sabretooth's thrusts.
          She had her face buried into her elbow so she didn't sound like he was hurting her too
badly. It had been clear early on that when she complained or sounded like she was being
hurt was when Creed was his most savage. She'd almost missed their last raid because she'd
asked him if he could be a little easier on her during anal. The result was not pleasant to
remember even if she had come like crazy, and she'd needed a dose of pain killers to be able
to travel with the rest of the group.
          The curvaceous woman had found being the object of Sabretooth's lust (she couldn't
ever claim to be his “girlfriend” because such a term suggested caring which neither of them
made any pretense of) was the tougher part of her time on the team. After a raid, Victor was
usually very insistent on what he wanted, and she'd learned she had no allies on the team if
she tried to decline his offer. They all felt it was a case of “you made your bed... and it's got
Sabretooth in it.” The other women seemed especially disinclined to offer support since she'd
not even tried to make friends with them before things had gotten out of hand with Victor.
          At least he wasn't using her ass this time. She probably wouldn't come from being
fucked by him (he might be hung like a rhino but he had no technique, not really caring if the
woman enjoyed herself or not) but at least she'd be able to walk tomorrow.
          The only thing worse for her than being fucked in the ass by the huge man-beast was
he'd discovered that he could make her body climax from asphyxiation even when she was
unconscious. He thought it was incredibly funny that he could stuff his cock down her throat
until she passed out and then watch her body twitch and come while she couldn't enjoy it.
          Yes, Victor could be a real laugh riot.
          She continued to grunt into her arm, hoping the would finish before he decided to move
on to something more amusing.
          That emerald he'd given her had come with a much higher price tag than she'd ever
expected.

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

          Indigo was back in front of the new computer terminal the General had so graciously
provided, looking at fashions or lingerie or shopping for new sex toys... or so was supposed to
be the case.
          al Masid had been sure that a technician with the proper knowledge had checked over
the computer to make certain they had no access to creating e-mail or social media accounts,
couldn't post on forums, could place no orders that didn't go through the properly disguised
financial channels, and generally couldn't do anything that might prove embarrassing to their
employer. All the things they wished to do were possible only as anonymous “guests” with the
same anonymous drop box in America as the shipping address. There they would be placed
in the diplomatic pouch of the Colonel and couriered back to their true buyers without anyone
being the wiser.
          But unfortunately for the General, he wasn't dealing with an empty-headed hooker with
a room-temperature IQ and a lack of motivation. The lovely native American woman was
smart enough to realize that with the change of power in the palace, the General had no need
to keep to the same agreement the Emir had offered even if he was so inclined.
          One of the first things she'd done with the new access to the Internet was check on
what had happened to the former ruler and his son. News of their executions had been easy
to locate, and she'd spent a half-hour carefully deleting all records of her visiting those sites.
That he'd chosen to lie to them about it didn't bode well, and she'd been working her acting
skills to the limit when she'd been entertaining their new “employer”.
          God, but she appreciated the incognito function on the new browser. It made it much
simpler to clean up after her research, especially when the tech did no more than check their
browser history most of the time.
          And it was true she wasn't able to create any new accounts. That didn't mean she'd
forgotten the password to her old account from her days at the ranch in Nevada.
          She just hoped her friend back home would be able to get word to someone so there
was reason for the General to play nice and not simply dispose of them all when he decided
they were too much of a risk any more. For now, he was still thinking with his dick, but the
moment he stopped, Indigo was afraid he'd decide that it was far easier (and more affordable)
to simply make them disappear. How they'd been known to abuse Snowdrop was proof they
didn't think of them in normal terms, even if she was borderline masochistic.
          Now if only Natalya would respond to her messages.
          Where was she?
