WARNING!!! The following story contains bondage, domination, and extremely adult sexual situations. If this isn't the kind of thing you're interested in, for heavens sake DON'T READ IT!!! You should be OVER 21 YEARS OF AGE to read this, as it is intended for adults only.
This story is written as satirical fiction for entertainment purposes only, and is not intended to gather monetary recompense in ANY WAY, SHAPE, or FORM...it is freely offered for interested readers only.
The original creations of Jean Grey, Scott Summer, Mesmero, and the X-men are copyrighted by Marvel Comics.
**Jean Grey: A Mesmerizing Evening
Chapter 2**
The apartment was bathed in a soft, amber glow from the nearby streetlights filtering through the curtains, casting long, dancing shadows across the walls. Jean's breaths came in short, quick gasps, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. She turned to face Scott, her eyes wide with a mix of excitement and apprehension. She had never seen him like this before, his usually calm and controlled demeanor replaced with a raw, primal intensity.
His gaze was fixed on her, his eyes burning like embers behind his glasses. He reached out, his hands gripping her waist, his fingers digging into her soft flesh.
He pulled her towards him, his breath hot on her face. "I've waited so long, Jean. I'm taking you tonight."
Jean's breath hitched in her throat, her body aching with a mix of fear and desire. She had never seen this side of Scott before, and it both excited and terrified her. "I-Scott. I just wanted you to...to know that I-"
Scott cut her off with a harsh kiss, his mouth crashing down onto hers, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth. Jean gasped, her body pressing against his as she kissed him back, her hands gripping his arms for support. Scott's kiss was brutal, demanding, and it sent shivers down her spine. She could feel the raw power in his touch, and it only served to heighten her arousal.
Scott broke the kiss, his breath ragged. "Turn around," he growled, his voice barely recognizable. Jean hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. He was her team leader, and she was used to following his commands...But she had never heard him speak like this to her before; its novelty sent a thrill of coursing through her veins.
"Scott?" she asked, her voice a soft whisper. She could see the desire burning in his eyes, the need for control. His only response was to gaze at her, an expectation that she do as she was told.
Slowly, she turned around, her back to him. She could feel his powerful eyes on her, raking over her body, her low-backed little black dress, her generous bottom, her stockinged thighs.
Scott's hands gripped her hips, his touch firm and possessive. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. "You want this, don't you, Jean? You want me inside of you."
Jean gasped, his words sending a jolt of pleasure through her. She could feel the heat of his breath on her neck, his hands gripping her hips tightly. She nodded, her voice almost a girlish whimper, despite herself. "Yes, Scott. Yes. I want you...inside of me."
Scott's hands slid upward, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist, her ribs, before cupping her breasts through the fabric of her dress. Jean arched her back, a soft moan escaping her lips as he squeezed her flesh, his touch firm and demanding.
As his hands moved into the dress to scoop her, stretching the already-tight material, she felt how large they were. His fingers were calloused from years of training and battle, and the contrast between his rough skin and her smooth, delicate breasts sent waves of pleasure coursing through her. Her lacy bra, the one she had chosen specifically for this night, barely contained her, and Scott's hands danced in and out of the cups, his thumbs rubbing against her hardening nipples.
"Scott," she whispered, her voice barely audible, her body trembling with anticipation. She could feel the heat of his breath on her neck, his hands gripping her breasts tightly, his touch possessive and hungry. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and some pain, and Jean found herself pushing back against him, her body craving more of his touch.
She knew he hadn't had much more sex than she, but they had fooled around plenty -sneaking into each other's rooms at the mansion- and she loved it when he played with her breasts. True to form, his hands were expertly massaging them tonight, slowly and deliberately, savoring the feel of them. His fingers traced the curve of her flesh, his palms cupping her mounds, his thumbs circling her hardening nipples. He gave each little tugs, then gently rolled them between his fingers, enjoying how she moaned. Jean could feel the hunger in his touch, the way he was claiming her body as his own, and it sent shivers down her spine. She could feel the heat of his breath on her neck, his lips brushing against her skin, his teeth grazing her flesh. She gasped, her body arching against him, her hips pressing back against his growing hardness.
Scott's hands continued their slow, deliberate exploration of her body, his touch firm and possessive.
Jean tried to turn around, eager to kiss him, to show him the depth of her desire. But before she could move, Scott's grip on her hips tightened, his hands commanding. He gently but firmly returned her to face away from him, leaving her breathless and surprised. For a moment, Jean was taken aback, her heart pounding in her chest as she realized that Scott was in control, that he was the one dictating the pace of their encounter. But as she stood there, her body pressed against his, she could feel a warmth spreading between her legs, a dampness moving through her pink panties to visit her hose. Her body was responding to his touch, to his dominance. She had never felt this way before, and it both scared and excited her.
"Oh Scott," she groaned softly, her voice low and needy.
But even that small sound was too much for him. He needed her silent, needed her to focus solely on the sensations he was evoking within her. Scott shushed her gently, his other hand still kneading her breasts firmly but lovingly. He brought his hand to her mouth, his fingers splayed as he covered her lips, quieting her. Jean's eyes widened in surprise, her breath hitching in her throat. She had never experienced anything like this before, never been silenced in such a way. But as she felt the weight of his hand on her mouth, the heat of his palm against her skin, she found that she didn't mind. In fact, it was somehow thrilling, a stark contrast to the usual gentleness he showed her.
It made her heart race, her body tremble with anticipation. She parted her lips slightly, feeling the helplessness of even trying to speak, a his hand pressed firmly, muffling any further sounds that wanted to escape her.
Jean felt Scott's other hand leave her breast, tracing a slow path down her back, her spine arching in response. Scott's hand lowered, his fingers hooking into the hem of her dress. She felt a blush spread across her chest, her cheeks, as she remembered the innocence of her panties. She had chosen pink briefs, thinking they were cute, not anticipating that they would be so...girlish...against this new tone of the evening. She felt a pang of embarrassment, wishing she had chosen something more grown-up.
Scott's hand began to move upward, the fabric of her dress slowly inching its way up her thighs. Jean could feel the heat of his touch, his fingers against her soft skin. She let out a soft whimper, her breath hitching as she felt the cool air hit her flesh, the sensation of being exposed sending a shiver down her spine.
"Umph..." she tried to speak, to apologize for her underwear, but she didn't get out more than a syllable, her voice muffled by his hand.
If anything, he he tightened his grip slightly, his fingers and thumb firming up on opposite cheeks while his palm gagged her, then pulling her head down ever so slightly, forcing her to arch her back further. The position emphasized the curve of her back, the swell of her hips, and the roundness of her ass.
For a moment, his free hand continued to toy with the hem of her skirt. Then, with a palpable loss of patience and a swift tug, he lifted it up, revealing her ass and the tops of her stockinged thighs, all encased in silky black nylon.
Jean breathed heavily beneath Scott's hand. But far from seeming disappointed in her girlish pink panties beneath the hose, Scott's hands indicated interest.
He began to caress her ass, his touch slow and deliberate, his fingers tracing the hem of her panties with a reverence that belied his fierce desire. Jean felt her breath hitch as his fingers brushed the hem, the sensation sending shivers down her spine. She arched her back further, pushing herself against his hand, wanting more of his touch. She longed for the feel of the probing firmness of Scott's fingers, but delighted in the teasing sheerness of her hose as a slight barrier for them both; it sent a thrill of pleasure through her. She squirmed, her hips moving in time with his touch, her body aching for him to move his hand from her ass to her mound, to touch her where she needed it most.
Jean let out a soft moan, her hips moving in a subtle, involuntary rhythm. She couldn't help it.
As Scott's hands explored her body, her desire grew, and she found herself writhing against him, her hips moving in time with his touch. She squirmed in his hold, her breath coming in short gasps, her body aching with need. As she did, she realized that her heels were still on, the black patent shoes she had so proudly donned for him. She positioned her legs as if to step out of them, but Scott stopped her with a firm hand on her thigh.
"No," he said firmly, his voice low and commanding. "Leave them on. I want you just like this."
Jean hesitated, surprised. Though he was driven and passionate elsewhere, Scott had never been so dominant in their innocent encounters before, the heavy petting and kissing they'd resorted to as teenagers. She wondered what had brought about this new tone, the power in his voice and grip now.
She shivered and stayed still, her legs slightly spread, heels still planted on the floor, just as he wanted. She felt her entire body tense and quiver, submitting to his control.
Scott took his time, his hands slowly tracing the curve of her ass, tugging at the thin fabric of her pantyhose. Jean stood as still as she could, her body on fire with anticipation. She knew her mound had grown soaked, but was embarrassed to check it. Whenever he did finally touch her, when he felt the sodden crotch of her hose, Jean hoped he wouldn't judge her cruelly.
She'd never felt like this, never needed someone so much. Her body was slick with sweat, and she shivered with anticipation as Scott's fingertip moved up her right leg, tracing the musculature of her upper thigh.
Scott then removed the muffling hand from her lips, but he sternly instructed, "No talking, Jean. Not a word." The command in his voice sent a shiver down her spine, igniting her desire even more.
He knelt behind her then, his hands reaching around to grasp her ankles, holding her firmly in place. Jean felt a thrill of excitement and fear as she realized she was completely at his mercy. She could feel his hot breath on the back of her calves, his lips brushing against the backs of her knees, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. She wiggled her toes, her ankles flexing in his grip, but he held her fast, his hands firm and unyielding.
Scott's lips began to move upward, little kisses and soft nips marking a path along her thighs. Jean felt her heart pounding in her chest, her breath coming in short gasps. She could feel the gentle scrape of his stubble, and it sent shivers of pleasure coursing through her.
His hands tightened on her ankles, holding her in place as he continued his slow, torturous ascent. Jean squirmed, her body aching for more. She wanted him to touch her, to taste her, to claim her as his own. She could feel the dampness between her legs grow, her panties and pantyhose both now soaked with her desire.
She knew he must smell it; it seemed to overpower the room: a heady scent, a perfume that filled the air around them. Her breath hitched as Scott's lips found the sensitive skin at the top of her thighs. It was a new territory for her, a place she had only ever dreamed about being touched. She let out a soft whimper, her body trembling with anticipation.
Scott's hands moved upwards from her ankles, his fingers trailing along the smooth, silky nylon of her stockings. He reached her ass, squeezing and massaging the firm globes. "Ohhh. Ohhh god..." she whispered. She was trying to be his good girl, to obey and be silent, but it was next to impossible.
Jean was captivated by his control of her body, the way he maneuvered her as if she was a puppet on a string. She hadn't thought this was how the night would go, but it felt right. He had been her leader for years, and she had loved that about him; it only seemed natural that she should be attracted to it now as well.
"Pull your dress off," Scott commanded, his voice low and demanding. Jean didn't hesitate. She reached behind her, her fingers fumbling with the fabric before finally managing to tug it over her head. She felt a rush of cool air against her bare skin, her body shivering with nervous anticipation.
Scott took the dress from her, his hands brushing against hers as he did so. He tossed the garment aside, the sound of fabric hitting the floor swishing in the otherwise silent room.
Scott finally stood, his tall frame towering over Jean. He turned her to face him, his strong hands gripping her shoulders firmly. Jean's heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in short gasps. She felt a mix of exhilaration and trepidation, her body trembling with a heady combination of fear and desire. She was dressed now only in her black pantyhose, heels, a lacy bra that barely contained her breasts, and her pink cotton panties, soaked with her arousal. She felt a blush spread across her cheeks, her body on fire with anticipation and embarrassment. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, yet she also felt a sense of relief. After years, she was finally going to be his.