X Men Rejection

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story. They belong to Marvel. And also, if you are too young to read this, leave... please. Or if this type of thing is illegal where you live then also leave... please. This is a story involving homosexual, or rather gay, sex and love. So if this offends or freaks you out, leave... please. This is purely fiction, it doesn't imply anything about the character's mentioned sexuality

Enjoy

Their hands were rough. Their hands were loving. Their hands were... not theirs.

It'd began... I wasn't sure, I was in some sort of alternate state of mind. Could've been ten minutes ago, or maybe three days ago, who knows. It was ecstasy. It wasn't sex. They weren't using they're dicks, just their hands. Except, it wasn't them. It was Logan, Bobby, Hank, Scott, Remy, Bishop... THEY were using they're dicks, and I could feel all of it, but when it came to the guards keeping me in this prison of sorts, I could only feel their hands. Those hands had an amazing effect on me. I'd tried to break free, but that wasn't possible.

I could feel Logan's hard muscled body against mine one moment, and then feel Scott's jaw on my own the next. It would alternate randomly and quickly, never fully satisfied, always wanting more. They had me where they wanted me, I had to get out. But it was so good! Everyone I've never tasted I had with me! I enjoyed it while I could and figured out some way to loosen their grip on me.

They worked in pulses, a beat. The beat would sound and the pleasure spiked, all train of thought dispersed and any desire to escape this was gone. A pause would come and I had short time to think.

They based they're work on what the mind desired.

Beat. Moan. Pause.

Think of a girl. Think of a girl. Think of a girl.

Beat. Moan. Pause.

Wasn't working. They weren't gripping the thought.

Beat. Moan. Pause.

Girl. Girl. Girl. Sex. Do. Like it. Like it. Like it.

Beat. Beat. Beat. Beat.

They projected the image of a woman. Beautiful. Not for me.

I began to feel the heat of the place, the hard surface I was sitting on. Their real hands on me. On my shoulders, on my thighs. It went black and I could hear and feel my surroundings again. I opened my eyes pulled from their grip, standing on the stone platform I was set on away from them. They were caught off guard, they reached for my legs, I jumped off the platform and tried concentrating on any energy I had left. Bobby. Nothing. They knew what I could do; they'd found a way to keep me suppressed.

I pulled away to the "room's" corner. At the edge. One step and I was a goner. I looked back at them and they weren't looking at me, they were looking at the doorless threshold. Someone was coming. I straightened up and paid attention to everything around me. I was wearing some sort of tunic thing. It covered me up nicely. From inside the "room" it seemed that this platform was the only one in this dimension, however, as two figures walked in, I realized I just couldn't see outside.

They were demons. That was the only word that came to mind as I looked at them. One male, one female. The male was dark blue, muscled, and had tentacle-like things for hair that stretched down to his calves. He had light blue tattoo-like body marks. The female looked more human, with a head dress, and red eyes. They both had red eyes. Creepy. I'd heard of the male. Blackheart. The female though, wasn't familiar to me. I was in Mephisto's Realm. "Bobby!" I sent out. Fear gripped my heart. I really WAS in hell. "Bobby!" "Victor!" "WADE!" Blackheart's eyes focused on me and I passed out. Fear.

• • • "We cant do this on our own, I mean we cant all go," Jean argued. It was a meeting, Sabretooth and Deadpool were present, we had no choice but to stand them, we couldn't do it without them. The professor's office was full. Everyone was concerned. We'd learned that we weren't just facing Mephisto, we were facing Doom, Arcade, Fury, and then, Mephisto. Fury apparently had been press-ganged into Doom's twisted party. Some sort of leverage. That didn't matter.

"We cannot risk so much for one person," the professor put in. He was right, but no one listened. The room roared with oppositions. "Listen up," Victor growled, "I'm going, whoever wants to join can do so, but we wont be doing this under the law or the X-Men, this is personal now." He had a point. "So who's coming?" Wade asked. I looked at Rogue. She nodded at me. "We're in," I stood up, Rogue stood beside me. Scott spoke up. Logan did too. Jean and then Remy. Hank and Bishop would stay and monitor from the mansion. Jean would be our link to them through the professor. We'd assembled a team. We were in to the very end. And then we heard the cry. His cry. Calling out three names. My own, Victor's, and Wade's. Only we heard it. Fuel. We quickly made our way to the X-Jet.

I woke up on a much softer surface. I was on my stomach. The room was just like the last one. A platform with edges and distant fiery walls. I was facing an edge, far away, and I was on a bed. I sat up and as I looked around, I saw Blackheart next to me. Asleep, facing up, looking away. His broad chest heaving. Oh no.

There was no one else in the room. The guilt set in. I'd slept with him.

Wait, this wasn't guilt. This was... this was... pleasure.

He stirred. I leaned down and set my hand on his jaw. His eyes opened. He reached for my own jaw. I leaned down and kissed his lips, his neck, his chest. He grabbed my arms, and flipped himself on top of me. He kissed me, licked me, took over. His arm was under my thigh and pushed it up over his shoulder. My hand went over his broad heaving chest, his stomach. He pushed in. I moaned and he groaned. He was a demon, I was his host. Nothing else mattered. He pulled out and pushed in roughly. My hands ran through his thick "hair." His head was resting on my neck. His forehead on my shoulder.

I screamed, and flipped us over, he lay under me, my hands on his chest. His legs folded, his thighs on my back, open. I slightly rested on his legs. I pulled up and pushed down. He wasn't comfortable and flipped us over again. He pushed in again. It was fast, rough. His tongue on my neck. His lips. I came. His hands gripped my waist, one worked its way up to my face and gripped it. He pushed my face up. I felt a bite at my neck. Pain. Moan. He pulled out and pushed in. He was perfect. I could feel his breath on me. His hands. Him. Pure lust. Every thought, every move, I was all for him. I gripped his arms. Stone hard. Both his hands went down to grip my waist as his rhythm accelerated to the point of his groans, his head tilted all the way back, his back arched and he pushed in all the way.

His cum slithered out of his dick and into me. He growled and groaned and fell on me, breathing, heaving.