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From: pegasus777@hotmail.com
Subject: RP: Submission Agenda 11 (X-Men, MF, FF, nc, inc, mc, piss)
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This is Submission Agenda, featuring the characters of Marvel Comics,
non-consential and consential sex, oral, anal, mind control, some bondage,
elements of transformation and an amount of incest too. The story is an
ongoing one, so feel free to send any comments and suggestions to
pegasus777@hotmail.com


Chapter Eleven: Secrets of Psylocke's Psyche

In the days that followed we kept a close look at Xavier's mansion, even
witnessing the final meeting of the badly depleted X-Men via our hack into
the Cerebro system. The team had begun to realise that they were being
systematically eliminated, and Storm's disappearance was the last straw for a
team that now consisted only of Bishop, Wolverine, Rogue and Psylocke. They
had decided to part ways, the thinking being that the other team members
would stand a better chance of survival disappearing out of the world of
costumed adventuring. Other X-Men in the field were told to scatter and never
return. Of course, with a telepath as powerful as Phoenix and a Cerebro
hook-up, finding any of them would be no problem.

I was not surprised when Elisabeth Braddock did not follow her team-mates
into retirement. I envisaged two reasons behind this. The first was
Psylocke's never-say-die spirit, the ninja code that prevents her from
backing down from an adversary. The second was probably the more powerful
inducement - the need to be dominated sexually that repeated dreamscape rapes
had given her a taste for. I had developed a similar taste in meting them
out, but the thought of taking her physical form and breaking her mind for
good excited me a great deal.

Connected directly with Cerebro via Phoenix and her psi-link, it was
simplicity itself to breach Xavier's mansion security and infiltrate the
Danger Room moments before Psylocke would begin her workout. With my thoughts
alone I shaped the holographic environment using the Phoenix conduit,
creating a lush and verdant junglescape, thickly forested, alive with
wildlife and  exotic plants.

I did not have to wait long before my prey arrived. Psylocke was beautiful in
the flesh, even with her uniform on. I could see the firmness of every part
of her body, the perfectly athletic physical specimen, offset by her large
breasts and purple hair. Her eyes stared out into the undergrowth, seeking me
out, her approach stealthy and almost totally silent.

"I've been waiting for you," she stated calmly. "I knew you would come for
me."

She stopped searching, folded her arms and waited. Intrigued that she should
end the game so soon, I walked out to meet her. I expected defiance, even an
attack, but I detected nothing from her, merely an acceptance of the
inevitable. She gazed at me, looking at me from top to bottom, an expression
of interest on those chiselled Asian features.

"You can rape me ten thousands times, but I'll never be yours," she murmured,
eyes locked on mine.

"I have a talent for using base emotions against my prey," I replied. "There's
no doubt that I will make them overwhelm you, Psylocke."

"I have complete physical control of my body. It doesn't matter how you touch
me, I will not submit."

The undergrowth around her started to take form, to become alive... vines
shot out from the leafy canopy above and imprisoned her arms and legs, whilst
a huge wooden X shape began to rise from the ground behind her. In mere
moments she was securely fastened to it, spread-eagled and in a horizontal
position, ready for my pleasure.

"Complete mental control of the Danger Room," she marvelled, raising an
eyebrow. "Most impressive. Maybe this will be a challenge after all."

I smirked at her impertinence and advanced on her bound form, producing a
large, ugly-looking knife.

"Oh it's going to be challenging all right, my dear," I promised her, cutting
open the top of her blue uniform, allowing her vast cleavage to pop out in
front of my eyes, before ripping the rest of her top open with my bare hands.
I looked hungrily at her breasts. Unbelievably, despite her athletic frame,
they were even larger than Phoenix's, capped with tiny pink nipples. I
resisted the temptation to take them into my mouth and continued cutting her
uniform off, until at last her tiny pussy was revealed, topped with a trimmed
purple bush of hair. Very cute.

I disrobed quickly, my erection springing free, pointing straight towards
Psylocke's inviting cunt.

"Everyone has a mental weakness," I told her. "A simple flaw which can be
physically taken advantage of... tell me Psylocke, what was life like as the
Mandarin's whore?"

Betsy Braddock's veneer of confidence suddenly began to look visibly shaken.

"You see, Betsy, I've read all about your counselling with Xavier - it's all
in the Cerebro data banks."

"That part of my life no longer has any meaning to me!" she spat back at me.

"It's a wonder your beloved Xavier didn't pick up where the Mandarin left
off... he was creating a quite spectacular work of art."

"You know nothing!"

"He crafted your physical existence into his perfect image of womanhood. He
gave you the warrior's instinct and knowledge, stolen from Kwannon... and
then? He brought out your sexuality, moulded your darker urges. It's a shame
he never got to finish the work."

Silence. We both knew what was going to happen. Psylocke was as good as
defeated already.

"I'm going to complete your journey, Betsy. What Xavier erased, I shall
restore. And then... then... maybe I'll add a few touches of my own."

"I... will... not... yield!"

"You're quite right, Betsy. Your physical control is quite supreme. The
Mandarin made it that way; immunity from pain... immunity to the magical and
psychological power of forced sex. He covered the bases pretty well. But he
needed a backdoor to impose his sexual supremacy over you. When I figured it
out, the information... excited me."

Vines shot out and wrapped themselves tightly around Psylocke's massive tits,
whilst simultaneously, another darted up her thigh, resting on her pussy.
Mentally I squeezed the tit-vines viciously, and true to form, there was not
one noticeable reaction from my prey.

"Very good Betsy. Very impressive. If the situation were reversed I would not
be so... composed."

But then I allowed the smaller vine to begin a focused caressing of her
clitoris, in tandem with the breast abuse. Psylocke's resistance lasted
minutes before I finally heard her gasp and moan. I noticed with lust that
her juices flowed freely down her thighs - another touch I mentally
congratulated the Mandarin for.

"I have to admit Betsy... I'm not really a sadistic man, but the thought that
causing you pain gives you so much pleasure... well, the mind boggles."

"Get it over with," she hissed as I brought needle-sharp spikes to each
nipple and generously stabbed them into the tiny buds. Blood sprung from the
holes, even as arousal inflated them to a huge degree. I allowed the vines to
loosen, bringing my face into the domain of those mountainous breasts and
consumed by my hunger for her, I took mouthfuls of tit-flesh and bit down
with all my strength, making her scream, writhe and moan beneath me.

My poor, neglected cock was finally given relief as I placed the head at
Psylocke's snatch, and I took her with one savage thrust, even while the tiny
vine manipulated her blood-engorged clit, continuing its maddening teasing. My
stored up jism seeped into her cunt, super-sensitising it, over-filling it and
then dripping down onto her anal pucker, propelled by the power of my cruel
thrusts.

I summoned forth a thorny phallus-shaped vine, which incessantly pushed
against her resistant rectum. I marvelled at her defiance as she fought
against its entry, before using my mastery of the Danger Room holographic
technology to create leather gauntlets for each of my hands, hundreds of tiny
poison-tipped needles on the palm and fingers of each. I grazed her tits with
the new holographic constructs before positioning one gauntlet over each of
her breasts. And then slowly I squeezed.

Psylocke's yell of pain will live with me forever as the tiny needles easily
broke through her flesh, poison coursing through her breasts. All control left
her. As the thorny vine disappeared inside her ravaged asshole I pushed deeper
than ever into her clenching silky depths, holding off on my climax until she
had submitted and endured her last orgasm of freedom before becoming mine.

Buried deep inside her I ruthlessly bit down again repeatedly on one of her
painfully abused breasts, bringing up my hand and slapping the other with all
my might, before sucking on one nipple and squeezing the other until I felt
her finally submit to the crashing climax that built up inside of her. She
drenched my buried prick and even my balls, and I howled at the sensation and
burst inside that glorious cunt.

Moments later I released her from the cross, my eyes locked on her body as
she swayed towards me, then knelt before my cock, cleaning it thoroughly with
her tongue, lips and mouth. Before she had finished I was hard again. She
purred at the sight of my full-blooded erection and cooed as her tongue
summoned forth a stream of lubricating juice from the tip.

"This... it's different," Psylocke muttered, looking up at me. "It isn't like
the last time."

"You are bound to me mentally, physically... and chemically," I explained,
running my hand through her purple hair. "For you and Jean Grey any less would
have allowed your original condition to resurface. This is not allowed... Tell
me about the conditioning the Mandarin gave you."

"Every day he would beat me, whilst another of the girls orally... pleasured
me. Then he would take my mouth, feeding me with his climax. After this I
would whore for him. When one of his generals had pleased him I was the
prize. Sometimes he watched as I sucked them... other times he allowed them
to fuck  my asshole. Occasionally I was given to women... only they were
allowed to use my cunt - the men would be killed for even touching it for
this was the Mandarin's domain. The foremost whores in China taught me
technique and I absorbed the information voraciously... a sexual favour from
me was considered the greatest reward the Mandarin could give."

"I bet it was...Xavier's files on all but the subject of your conditioning
are quite extensive. It's clear that not all your sessions with him have been
fully documented."

I could see an element of tension cross her mind, her rhythmic toying of my
cock interrupted as I broached the subject of the first breaking of her will
and body.

"The files are most cryptic," I continue, pressing her on the subject.
"Particularly on the process of the Mandarin's first possession of you... Why
not tell me about the 'Golden Rapture'?"

Her cock teasing slowed to nothing and I saw a visible, depressive sigh escape
her, her head bowed.

"It is a ritual performed by the chosen concubine of the ancient emperors of
China. Like me they were intensively trained in the arts of pleasuring their
lords, with this particular practise being symbolic of the female's total
subservience to the male. This knowledge is passed from the concubine to
her... successor. The Mandarin found the last woman to hold the knowledge
and... persuaded her... to pass it on to me."

"Most intriguing... I want to know more."

Psylocke looked up at me, and for the first time I could see shame in her
eyes.

"You're going to want the 'Golden Rapture' aren't you? You're going to demand
it from me to assure my position as your possession, your slave."

"Quite probably. But you haven't answered my question."

"Part of the ritual involves the male's ignorance of its power... suffice to
say that there is precious little rapture in it for me - only more mental
bondage - whilst you receive a sexual high quite different to any that even
you would have experienced. But that is only the beginning of its appeal."

"It sounds delicious, Betsy. I suggest you get started."

She stood naked before me, her head nodding in resignation.

"Change this," she demanded, gesturing at the Danger Room surroundings.
"Something more intimate. A bed chamber, with candle-light, vast bed, plenty
of small cushions, silk sheets, a selection of massage oils."

As Psylocke made clear her requirements, the room changed around us, prompted
by my mental commands. The room slowly began to take shape and I climbed up
onto the four poster bed, awaiting my slave's commencement of the ritual, my
cock full-blooded and erect, awaiting the touch of my concubine.

She soon joined me, taking a couple of the cushions and placing them under my
ass, elevating my groinal area. Psylocke stroked my thighs gently and I parted
them for her. She kissed the sensitive skin on my inner leg and blew cold air
over my exposed anus. My cock throbbed with sexual potential.

"Close your eyes and try to breathe deeply," she urged quietly. "I'm going to
massage you into a deep state of relaxation. Only then can I begin the
'Rapture'."

I obeyed instantly, cutting off my view of that incredibly toned body, those
enormous breasts, savouring the anticipation of the pleasures that lay ahead
at the hands of this sensuous woman. I heard the dip of her hands into the
oils, then awaited the moment of contact.

When her hands rubbed into my chest I sighed with contentment. She massaged
my muscles deeply, rubbing the liquid all over my chest with both hands,
digging at the nerve centres that caused immense and sudden relaxation. It
felt so good as the waves of calm passed through my body, her skilled hands
moving from muscle group to muscle group, always firm and unyielding and yet
at the same time soft and sensuous. She moved around me with a grace that
defied description - as her hands journeyed across my body I knew that she
had to be changing her position on the bed, sometimes to the left of me, to
right or even kneeling above me, and yet I was oblivious to all of this
movement. There was just her deep massaging hands taking me further into a
state of relaxation I would not have previously thought possible.

The hands never left my torso, continuing a now more gentle massage, but soon
after she began to tease my desire. The movement of the hands remained but
their slow, continuous rubbing was interspersed occasionally by a flick of
her magnificent mane of purple hair on my oiled chest or else I would feel
the grazing of an erect nipple, sometimes both of them moving in a sweet arc
as she moved across me. Each touch sent a spear of lust through me, enough
perhaps to make me want to take control and impale her, but in this state of
relaxation I realised I was putty in her hands, unable to muster the energy
to fuck her. I moaned with need at each stolen moment of contact, gasping out
loud as I felt the unmistakable wiry roughness of her pubic hair move across
me.

Then she was gone for a moment, leaving me incomplete, only the sweet tease
of an oiled nipple running over my erect cock head giving me any kind of
contact. Moments later I heard her dip her hands into the oil again and the
rougher massage continued again, this time on my feet, digging deep into the
soles, paying individual attention to each toe as she moved up my calves,
fingers pressing hard into the muscles, then returning with a softer touch
before the inevitable movement upwards. The teasing continued - her hair on
my calf muscle, a nipple on my inner thigh, even a swipe of her tongue
swiftly over the underside of my scrotum... but always she ignored my
straining cock, curiously beginning a strangely rousing, deeply rough massage
on the area just an inch above the boundary of my pubic hair. Amazingly, my
cock began to feel even stiffer at this bizarre rubbing, a feeling that
exponentially increased as her heavenly breasts descended onto my cock, the
feeling nothing short of magnificent as my engorged shaft slipped wetly into
her oiled cleavage.

The intensely erotic rubbing stopped and I felt her breasts consume my cock
as she brought them together with her hands and buried my prick completely
inside their sweet, yielding mass. Her flesh jelly seemed to move around my
cock of its own accord, accompanied by a deeply satisfying wet slapping and
sucking noises. Occasionally she would allow the red hot tip to escape her
imprisoning tit flesh, and whilst she continued using her globes to tease the
shaft, she would blow down gently on the slit, always bringing forth a
strained gasp of lust ecstasy before she covered the entire shaft again with
her warm, slippery mammaries.

Finally she popped the aching glans free again, then tilted her head forward,
her hair splayed on my stomach as her mouth sucked onto the end of my cock,
her tongue beginning an excruciatingly pleasurable dance around my prick
head's most sensitive areas, my vocalisations of lust now just a
near-continuous humming noise.

I felt her breasts withdraw, lying on the insides of my spread thighs as she
continued her oral worship, finally freeing the glans but continuing the
torture on the underside of my shaft, beginning an up and down motion using
just the tip of her tongue before engulfing whole sections of the shaft
between her pouting lips, biting softly then sucking hard. Simultaneously, I
felt her hands snake up from between my thighs, around my cock and again to
the area just above, continuing the bizarre sensation inducing deep rubbing
she had started earlier. I was beginning to feel a definite sensation from
this rubbing now... a familiar one for sure, but it was still faint, its
presence near missed compared to the lancing fires her tongue was igniting on
my cock.

Her mouth had moved again. Each of my testicles was sucked into her mouth,
each bathed in saliva and rubbed softly, before she went south once again,
trying my lust to its limits with a slow, methodical, yet sensual tongue
dance around the ring of my sphincter, which she easily impaled in my deeply
relaxed condition. The nerve-endings blasted sheer pleasure through my mind
as I felt her darting tongue penetrate my asshole, flicking in and out, then
rimming around the sides. All the time she rubbed her body up and down, her
breasts pressed deliciously against my sensitive inner-thighs, her hands
still kneading incessantly at my lower stomach.

Then the anal stimulation was over... or so I thought. She moved upwards now,
one hand still massaging my lower stomach, the other moving down, brushing
past my scrotum before teasing the anal ring. Her tits again surrounded my
cock shaft, her lips again devoured its head, but this time the sensation was
exquisite as I felt a finger slowly invade my asshole. At the same time the
sensations the stomach massaging was producing started to feel more
pronounced, even through the intense, bludgeoning oral joys of the most
expert tonguing I'd ever received.

She was ploughing into my ass, blowing my cock and tit-fucking me
simultaneously and the sensations were near beyond any kind of sexual ecstasy
I'd felt before. As she sawed into my ass, she'd go deeper with every stroke
until finally she located my prostrate and began an intense rubbing, blasting
my mind with rapture, taking me to the edge of orgasm and somehow keeping me
there, preventing me from unleashing the stored up seed of the encounter.

I gasped, cried, moaned and finally screamed for release - anything to stop
this mind-blowing rapture, perhaps finally understanding the power of the
ritual, but thinking that maybe it would bind us together in the same way
that I had made Phoenix my consort.

Her fingers dug even deeper into my lower stomach. There was a definite
response now. Powerful, malevolent. I began to fight the sexual rapture,
shouting out insults as she diligently continued the ritual. I called her a
whore, a bitch, a cunt, all the time feeling the relaxation  give way to a
new tautness throughout my body as I tensed for... what?

The digging in my ass, on my prostate and on my lower stomach synchronised,
giving me a moment of mental clarity amidst the sexual rage where I realised
that Psylocke would forever be my slave... my slut... a sexual object put on
earth for my pleasure... and the pleasure of those I chose for her. Her
suctioning mouth left my cock, I felt her teeth heavily graze the sensitised
head as she left it. And then the true 'Golden Rapture' began.

Vast arcs of golden cum sprang from the head of my cock, hitting her square
in the face, the cream landing in her luscious lengths of hair, over her
tits. The rapture was beyond description - not so much a physical form of
orgasmic high, more an escape from it, an affirmation that I was her god and
she was my mere plaything. To reinforce this I knelt before her prostrate
form, guiding the golden cream over all her body, saving a heavy load for her
snatch.

The madness over, I realised now the significance of her stomach massage, the
cause of the honey-coloured ejaculate. My cock was now fully deflated, but I
still felt a great urge. Psylocke whimpered her final submission as a gushing
stream of urine fountained from the end of my cock, no longer mixed in with my
cream, falling onto my toy, into her hair and over her back. Ruthlessly, I
pulled her up by the chin and hosed her features with my piss, smiling with
power as she opened her mouth to receive the final spurts, sucking in my prick
in a wanton desire to extract the last few drops.

Her bondage was now complete.









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