*

This is an adaptation of the doujin of the same name, where Psylocke is captured and taken to Mojo World for an X-rated broadcast. Spiral, the six-armed villainess, is to be her co-star, and she’s got a dick that’s sure to make the ratings soar!

Story Tags: [Dubious Consent] [Body Modification] [Futanari / Dickgirl] [Tentacles] [Anal Penetration] [Vaginal Penetration] [Rough Oral] [Oral Sex] [Vaginal Sex] [Creampie] [Unrealistic Sex Acts] [Wet / Messy] [Excessive Cum]

*

Mojo slumped in his hover chair. His bloated, yellow form shook with anxiety while his beady eyes frantically darted between the dozens of screens that surrounded him, each of them displaying the plummeting viewership numbers for his latest reality shows.

“This is unacceptable!” He raged, his voice echoing through the cavernous control room. “My ratings cannot falter!” He slammed his clenched fist against the armrest of his hover chair. “Major Domo!” He yelled for his attendant, who had been standing next to him the whole time. “Ah, there you are! Perfect timing! We have to try something new! We’re going to revolutionize the industry!” He made grand gestures with his hands while he stared up, as if he could see it already. “We will no longer be constrained by the puritanical bounds of good taste and decency!”

“Ah, yes,” Major Domo nodded with a gentle, unimpressed sigh, “as if such ideals held us back before. But yes, let’s have another foray into the depths of depravity. Such an amazing and original idea…”

“The ratings will soar!” Mojo continued, completely oblivious. “We’ll have the entire dimension glued to their screens, unable to look away from the spectacle!”

“Quite brilliant,” Major Domo’s neutral tone hardly registering with Mojo at all. “The brain-rotted masses will certainly be unable to resist the allure of so much revealed flesh…”

“Yes, yes!” Mojo maniacally grinned as he rubbed his grimy hands together. “Prepare the studios! Retrieve the talent! The new era of the Mojoverse begins now!”

“As you wish,” Major Domo said before he muttered under his breath. “I suppose I should be grateful. At least this time will be easier to clean up… in theory…”



The moon cast a series of eerie, stretched shadows across the grounds of the Xavier Institute. Psylocke’s purple hair fluttered in the cool, night breeze as she took a walk to clear her mind. She deeply inhaled the lightly-chilled air, delighting in the relaxation that it brought. She was clad in her signature, blue outfit and a brown, bomber jacket with her legs exposed to the elements. Despite the breeze, she didn’t seem to mind. These grounds were serene and peaceful—unless they weren’t. It was always one extreme or the other. Still, she chose to use this time to concentrate without the background noise of every other person’s thoughts clouding hers. At least, that was the plan…

After years of intense training in the Danger Room, the British mutant knew when something felt wrong. She paused and narrowed her eyes, focusing on the eerie silence, only to hear a twig snap nearby. She spun around with her fists clenched and her psychic knife flickering around both hands, happily welcoming the fight. The telepath reached out with her mind, scanning for any signs of danger. After a tense moment of silence, she considered that even a mind as keen as her own was very capable of playing tricks on itself.

And then she sensed something quickly approaching and ducked out of the way as a silver, clawed hand slashed where her head had been just a moment before. With her hands still glowing, she pivoted while she crouched down, spinning with enough momentum to deliver a falling drop kick to the side of the assailant as she landed on her back. The creature, caught off guard, took the devastating blow to its torso as it howled in a mix of rage and pain.

As Psylocke effortlessly kipped up, she immediately looked at the figure as it tumbled upon the ground. The mutant was confused at first, only to suddenly recognize what had attacked her. A Warwolf!

“Bloody hell,” she groaned, knowing this wasn’t just some random attack if Mojo was involved. There was no time to consider her position and create a strategy as new shadows emerged from the tree line, their predatory forms slinking toward her as they split up to circle her while pacing in opposite directions. Even then, she wasn’t sure how many more Warwolves were lurking in the shadows, waiting for their chance to pounce.

The first Warwolf joined the others, creating a third, circling variable that she needed to account for. Psylocke’s focus darted from one to another, her mind racing to formulate an ever-moving strategy to account for any possible last second adjustments. She was outnumbered and cut off from getting any assistance. This would be a fight for survival, but she had overcome worse odds in the past.

One of the creatures lunged at her from behind and she deftly sidestepped the attack. As the creature passed by, she spun, her psychic knife slicing along its entire side. The creature howled in agony from the psionic attack, immediately landing with an unbalanced stagger that left it awkwardly hobbling to turn around and face its prey again despite its injury.

There was no time for Betsy to relish in her victory over the single opponent, though. She knew this battle could change at any time. The two remaining Warwolves took this moment to attack at the same time. They both rushed toward her, one going high while the other went low. Psylocke was forced to make a split second decision, noting the lower Warwolf’s movement was just a tad quicker than the airborne one. With a nimble hop to avoid the first one’s unrelenting rush, she used its head as a step to propel her higher into the air while using the momentum of the jump to pivot.

There was no room for error in her calculations as she spun in a half-turn, giving the rapidly-approaching Warwolf an impeccable view of her tightly-sculpted rear as the blue fabric rode up a bit. Her opposite leg rose toward her chest, further accentuating her flawless curves, but then she went off like a tightly wound spring. Her hips shifted and her leg shot back with every bit of her weight and momentum behind the attack. The blow itself would have easily injured most opponents on its own, but Betsy knew what she was up against now. She couldn’t hold back.

She focused her psychic energy into her foot, forming a glowing blade that extended from her heel. The energy speared into the lunging Warwolf’s head, immediately forcing the engineered beast’s form to crumple against the mutant’s blow and fall onto the back half of the other assailant. The third beast struggled to free itself from the dead weight of the fallen one, giving Psylocke more than enough time to gracefully land and focus every ounce of energy into her hand as she straddled the back of the Warwolf. She  maneuvered her arm around its neck and yanked its head back before plunging the psychic knife through its head.

The injured one tried its luck against her, hoping to catch the expertly trained martial artist off guard. With a deft roll out of the way, Betsy removed her bomber jacket and flung it at the wounded Warwolf, giving it yet another obstacle to overcome in its debilitated state. Psylocke brought both hands together, her energy flaring into a katana that she swiftly brought down upon her opponent, instantly bringing their battle to an end.

Betsy breathed heavily as she retrieved her jacket, wondering if she even wanted it anymore since being in contact with anything from the Mojoverse. With a disgusted scoff, she tossed it aside. Her heart pounded as adrenaline pumped through her veins. Her sweat-slicked skin glistened in the moonlight as the chaos around her turned back to peaceful serenity. But she knew this was far from over. Her blood was pumping, but this had been too easy.

A wry smirk crossed her lips as she readied herself again, taking on a defensive stance as she kept her wits about her. “I know you’re there,” she calmly commented while both fists glowed with psychic energy again. Without the jacket, little was left to the imagination as the skin-tight, blue material clung to every curve of her athletic body. Her heavy breaths accented the ample swell of her breasts and the taut muscles of her abdomen while sweat beaded on her forehead and the nape of her neck.

“We’d expect nothing less,” a growling voice filled the air.

Five more Warwolves crept out of the shadows, each metallic form practically glowing under the moonlight. Psylocke chuckled to herself with a sense of uncertainty. Three opponents had been difficult but manageable since she was able to turn the tables and use their lack of coordination against them. She knew these Warwolves had been watching the whole time, though. With more numbers and a more unified pattern of attack, Betsy didn’t stand a chance.

Before they could circle her, Psylocke turned and made a mad dash toward the mansion. It had seemed like a leisurely stroll to get here, but now it felt like miles away. Hopefully, she could at least make it close enough that someone else would see or sense her. She vaulted over a Warwolf that tried to intercept her, rolled to avoid the snapping jaws of another. The gentle breeze and the continuous exertion caused her hair to whip around her face, but there was no time to worry about that.

“Your resistance is admirable, but ultimately in vain,” she heard another Warwolf taunting her. Psylocke remembered why she truly hated these beasts. They could talk…

Betsy felt the gentle tickle of sweat sliding down her spine while the outfit clung to her curves even more tightly. She couldn’t keep this up forever against such a relentless pack of beasts. She needed to end this as quickly as possible. Psylocke spun around to face the swarm of Warwolves, skidding backward from the momentum. She closed her eyes while placing her pointer fingers on both temples as she concentrated her telepathic powers to send out a massive psionic blast. The energy radiated outward from the mutant, catching several of the Warwolves in its wake and sending them tumbling backward.

The attack, however, had left the mutant vulnerable if it didn’t hit all of her targets…

There was a sudden, heavy weight against Psylocke’s back that slammed her to the ground. She coughed and sputtered as the impact knocked the air from her lungs. The gravity of her situation set in when she felt the hot, humid breath of the Warwolf against the back of her neck. Betsy knew exactly what these beasts did to people and the prospect of being absorbed and used for her skin was terrifying. In a panic, she struggled with all of her might while she tried to harness her psychic knife, but the creature pinned her arms to the ground.

More Warwolves were quickly upon them. Psylocke watched as they approached and crowded around her, making her even more nervous and anxious than before. She heard their sinister laughter, jeering at her while they raked their claws along her exposed flesh, tugging and ripping at her costume in a slow and taunting fashion. One pushed its heavy hand against the back of her head, pressing her face firmly against the ground. Betsy never stopped struggling, even as they left light scrapes along her flesh as the others pawed at her.

“F-fuck…!” Psylocke exclaimed as she grew tired of the drawn out mockery. “J-just do it already…!”

There was more laughter from the Warwolves as the one upon her back breathed heavily into her ear. “You smell good. Delicious, even. I wish I could drain your essence…” Psylocke shivered, genuinely frightened. “Lucky for you,” the Warwolf continued, “we have specific orders…”

Before Betsy could fully comprehend that statement or ask what it meant, a heavy paw slammed against her head, knocking her out cold. The last thing she remembered before she lost consciousness was the eerie, combined laughter of the beasts….



Psylocke groaned as she finally came to. As her eyes flickered open, she was assailed with a surge of disorientation that only amplified her throbbing headache. Everything remained blurry as she tried to comprehend the garish, sterile room she found herself in. She grunted with disappointed surrender as she realized she was definitely in Mojo World. As her vision cleared, she noted that the room looked like a cross between a prison cell and a porn set—which weren’t particularly mutually exclusive design choices.

Betsy struggled against the futuristic bindings on her wrists that held her hands against one another and limited her range of motion with some kind of invisible leash that kept her tethered in the middle of the room. Worse than that, they also seemed to nullify her mutant powers, leaving her more vulnerable and exposed than she would have ever liked to be. She strained against her bonds, her uniform stretching and creasing with each movement. The fabric was still damp with sweat from her previous exertions, which told her she hadn’t been unconscious that long.

She clenched her jaw with frustration at her situation. Psylocke was a warrior and a survivor. She wasn’t some damsel in distress. And yet, here she was, bound and powerless in Mojo’s clutches.

She dwelt on her situation, becoming further mired in self-pity, only for a high-pitched whirring sound to catch her attention. She glanced around, her eyes narrowing as she saw a series of sleek camera drones circling her like mechanical vultures. She watched the lenses twist and zoom in on her body, immediately knowing their penchant for perversion as they took in her restrained form.

Psylocke growled. They weren’t just cameras, but they were an extension of Mojo’s voyeuristic gaze. She knew he was watching, taking in every detail of her body and feasibly broadcasting it to the whole dimension to ogle.

“Piss off!” She snarled, her British accent thick with rage. These words were full of impotent fury as Psylocke struggled and fought against the restraints. Her movement only resulted in further content for Mojo’s benefit as the cameras took in her twisting and arching form. Her muscles flexed and strained, and the blue material dug into her skin, further accenting her curves. Betsy glared as one drone hovered in front of her, its lens clearly focused on her chest and the way it heaved with exertion while beads of sweat rolled down her neck and soaked into the fabric of her cleavage.

Struggle as she might, the effort only further exhausted her as she pulled and strained against the unseen force. She eventually fell to her knees with her hands between her thighs while the drones continued their relentless observation. As flattering as it was to be the center of attention, it made her skin crawl, knowing there was a myriad of people watching her every movement.

Out of thin air, a holographic screen materialized, floating in front of Psylocke like a portal to another world. The fuzzy, static-filled image flickered for a moment before it stabilized, revealing her grotesque, yellow-skinned  captor. His wide mouth was stretched into a lecherous grin and his beady, gleaming eyes surveyed her body.

“Our star awakens! Wonderful! So glad to have you back!” Mojo’s voice boomed, filled with a fake cheeriness that only enhanced his underlying cruelty. “Are you ready for the premiere of the hottest reality show!” He paused for dramatic effect, as if he expected Psylocke to do anything other than glare hatefully at him. “It’s called, ‘Sworn Enemies, Forbidden Desires!”

Still, there was no response from Psylocke at all. Her irritated expression didn’t even begin to convey just how furious she was. Mojo, looking full of himself, remained smiling at the name reveal for a few more moments before he glared and tapped on his camera. “Major Domo! She can’t hear me! Fix it!”

There was a calm response in the background. “I believe she can hear you loud and clear, sir. I just don’t think she’s very moved by the pitch…”

“What?! No!” Mojo scoffed and looked at the screen again, his eyes still narrowed as he observed Psylocke’s callus expression. “My idea is amazing! I think she’s just deaf…! You got me a deaf mutant, Major Domo!” He snarled angrily as he turned away from the camera.

“She’s the one you specifically requested, sir…” The android flatly replied.

Mojo turned back to the screen, examining Psylocke through the series of cameras as he took in every detail. “Are you sure? How can you even tell? She’s so fucking hideous… It hurts my eyes just to look at her this long…” He swiped the screens away. “Whatever! We’ll make it work. The viewers probably can’t tell if it’s really her anyway…!”

“An astute plan, my lord,” Major Domo commented as the feed ended.

Psylocke was more annoyed at this point than anything else. She had to wonder, though… What the hell kind of show was she going to be on? And who was her supposed ‘enemy’? The list of those that she would consider a foe wasn’t exactly short, either… Betsy remained calm for now, glancing around the room for clues. As barren as it was, she expected she’d end up in a battle of some sort, considering that’s what usually happened in Mojo World.

The audio suddenly cut in mid-announcement with Mojo’s voice. “—She’s been locked away and is on the edge of her seat, waiting to see which sworn enemy she’ll encounter today…!”

Psylocke groaned at the thought of having to do this every day. She supposed there were worse fates than having to do battle with her adversaries, though. It would be convenient that they were being brought to her, after all. She couldn’t help but to smirk at the idea. Some scores would certainly be settled…

“—so, come on out, Spiral!” Mojo exclaimed with malicious glee.

Betsy’s eyes twitched as she tried to remain calm. Considering where she was, the choice made the most sense but it was still a name that made her jaw clench as the sliding, metallic door in front of her opened wide. Spiral sauntered in with a devilish look in her white eyes. Her six arms moved in a hypnotic pattern as she showed off for the camera, openly mocking Psylocke with her own unfettered form.

Various screens popped up around the room, displaying the different filming angles of each woman’s body. Spiral wore her usual outfit that reflected her chaotic and mystical nature. Her light blue bodysuit clung to every curve, emphasizing her lithe, toned form. The metallic silver accents of her arm guards and helmet shone like polished mirrors. With each graceful sway of her hips, she continued to grin as she approached Psylocke, as if the martial artist wouldn’t have already thrown a punch if she hadn’t been bound.

Spiral stopped, spun around like a model on a runway, and posed with a set of hands on her hips, two more making cute gestures, and the other two overhead as she flexed to flaunt her defined back and shoulder muscles. “It’s been such a long time!” Spiral exclaimed with a sigh, as if she were channeling the same fake mannerisms as Mojo himself.

Psylocke sneered as she clenched her fists. She was more than ready to begin this battle. “Not nearly long enough,” she commented under her breath. “I should have figured it was you…”

Spiral pouted as she stood next to Betsy. Her multiple hands gently caressed along the captive mutant’s body, her fingertips never quite making contact as she took in her delicate curves. “Don’t be so mean, Elizabeth,” Spiral mocked the mutant with a throaty purr. “I know how excited you are to see me again! You were so calm until I walked in, after all…”

“You wish…!” Psylocke growled while Spiral’s many fingertips teased the bound woman’s exposed flesh. “But hey, if you’re really curious about how excited I am, then maybe you should release me?” She grinned, her expression full of anger and spite.

“Ooh! The sexual tension is palpable! How long will our dear Psylocke be able to resist her sworn enemy’s captivating charm!” Mojo’s laughter echoed through the room, causing Betsy to groan at the absurd thought.

As if on cue, Spiral’s feather-like touches became more deliberate. The white-haired woman happily chuckled as her fingers traced along the contours of Psylocke’s outfit. A digit would gently slide beneath a tight seam, briefly stroking the unexposed flesh before retreating. Betsy’s eyes widened and a sudden gasp sounded from her lips.

“Mm,” Spiral purred against Psylocke’s ear, eliciting a more hushed groan from the bound woman’s lips. “Those don’t sound like the words of a woman that wants to fight, if you ask me…” To further prove her point, Spiral continued her lurid exploration of her captive’s body, making sure to follow every twitch of Psylocke’s body in order to coax a response from her.

Betsy’s breath hitched as Spiral touched a particularly sensitive area along her sides, causing the mutant to gasp and arch her back while her nipples hardened visibly against her outfit. Psylocke nibbled her bottom lip while the cameras still watched her every movement. This was all part of Mojo’s twisted game. She knew she had to resist, but the longer Spiral’s hands continued their tantalizing exploration, the more she found her resolve weakening. “N-never…!” Betsy stammered as she responded to every bit of Spiral’s stimulation.

“You keep fighting it,” Spiral seductively whispered into her ear in a low and husky tone. “I can feel it. You’re just delaying the inevitable. I know you want it. Why fight it? We can have so much fun together…”

Psylocke gasped as she felt one of Spiral’s palms cup her crotch, gently massaging her fingers against the warm, wet fabric with sensual precision. She hadn’t even realized how aroused she had become. This had to be a trick! They had done something to her! Drugged her! There was no way she would be turned on by this…! It hardly mattered, though. Spiral’s other hands slid along Psylocke’s skin, gently unfastening pieces of her outfit while the camera drones moved in for a closer view. Betsy felt the burning shame and humiliation as the various lenses focused on her skin, and knew they were capturing every moment of her unwilling arousal.

The meager outfit didn’t require much effort to remove, and yet Spiral’s touch drew the simple process out so much longer than it needed to be. And yet, one moment she was covered, and the next, Psylocke’s naked body was the sole focus of the cameras. She groaned in defeat as she watched some of the screens, displaying every inch of her skin and the way Spiral’s fingers still teased her. Betsy didn’t understand how some of these complex, highly invasive angles were being captured. She watched as one screen focused on her bald pussy, her sex dripping wet and ready while a shining path of her arousal trailed along the inside of her thigh. Other screens displayed her chest as she bent over, her ample chest swaying with just the slightest amount of jiggle.

Psylocke turned away in shame, unable to watch herself give in like this, only to see a view that didn’t make sense. This screen showed a first-person perspective as if from the mutant’s point of view. She paused, ignoring Spiral’s lecherous touch for a moment as she processed the situation. Psylocke glanced downward at her own exposed chest and watched as her breasts rose and fell with each breath, as well as the sweat that trailed along each soft mound. She rapidly turned her head to look at that screen again, only to catch the tail end of the display matching up to what she saw now.

“Wh-what the bloody hell?!” Psylocke exclaimed in a mix of shock and disbelief.

“Oh,” Spiral soothingly replied while her hands never stopped caressing her captive’s body, tracing playful patterns along her skin, “I guess you’ve figured it out so I might as well tell you. I had a little fun while you were having your beauty rest. I hope you don’t mind…”

Psylocke’s mind reeled as she was overcome with fear and anger. “What did you do to me?” She calmly demanded, despite her clenched jaw. Her muscles clenched and flexed as she strained against her bonds in a futile attempt to escape.

Spiral chuckled again as she leaned in close. Her lips brushed against Psylocke’s ear as she over-enunciated every word. “You got an upgrade, my darling Elizabeth.” She happily purred with pride at the work she had done. “Top of the line. Spared no expense. And now, our viewers can see what you see. Amazing, right?” To amplify that idea, Spiral placed a hand on the side of Psylocke’s face and turned her head toward her before she firmly shoved her lips to the mutant’s in a crushing kiss. From her peripheral vision, Betsy saw Spiral’s face up close in high resolution as she tilted her head. Overwhelmed, Psylocke closed her eyes while her enemy’s tongue pushed its way between her lips.

One of Spiral’s hands rested against the back of Psylocke’s head with a grip that was gentle yet unyielding. The kiss was as passionate as it was dominating. Spiral’s tongue enthusiastically explored every crevice of the other woman’s mouth.  Her many hands roamed over Betsy’s naked body, tenderly caressing her sides while another set of hands cupped the woman’s breasts. Psylocke arched her back as she moaned into the kiss, and Spiral pulled away, resting the tip of her nose against the captive mutant’s.

“Go ahead and give in,” Spiral urged, her lips brushing Psylocke’s with every word. “I can tell that you want this.”

Betsy’s resistance crumbled as she lightly tilted her head, pressing her lips back to Spiral’s. She hated Spiral with every fiber of her being, but that hate only made her want the white-haired villainess that much more. Spiral kept her hand upon the back of Psylocke’s head while one caressed the side of the woman’s face, tracing her fingers along her jawline as they continued their passionate kiss.

Once Spiral pulled away again, they locked eyes while they heavily breathed and instinctively licked their lips. Betsy lightly shook her head, showing she already regretted that decision. “Th-this is crazy. You know it. Mojo’s gone too far this time…”

Spiral smirked. “Calm down,” she said, her tone full of soothing contempt and ridicule. “We’re in this together.”

Psylocke was silent, but her expression of disbelief said it all.

“I’ve modified myself, too, if that makes you feel any better…” Spiral said, as if that somehow made the mutant’s kidnapping any better. Psylocke was about to rebut that statement, but Spiral stepped back until the captive had a full view of her body, and she removed her own clothing. As shocked as the mutant captive was, Spiral’s graceful movements seemed almost choreographed. All six arms worked in perfect synchronization, unclasping piece by piece and discarding it.

The last bit of fabric was her pants, but Psylocke hadn’t particularly paid much attention to them. The white-haired villainess smirked and turned around, giving Betsy a show of her arms and shoulders flexing, the muscles rippling with strength while the bottom set of hands tugged the waist of her tight pants over the firm, round globes of her ass. Psylocke’s focus shifted to that toned rear while Spiral tugged them all the way to her ankles and stepped out of them. The mutant stared intently while her enemy smirked as she looked over her shoulder, then suddenly spun around.

There was a meaty slap of flesh connecting with flesh as Spiral’s impressive, limp cock slapped against her hip from the sudden motion. Psylocke’s eyes fluttered and her expression morphed to confusion as she tried to comprehend what she was looking at even though she already knew. Her cheeks turned a slight shade of pink while her puzzled expression and Spiral’s nudity was fully displayed to the cameras.

Psylocke had to wonder if this was real or some sort of illusion created by her cybernetic eyes. She kept blinking, certain that she was somehow mistaken. Spiral’s wicked grin only widened as she stepped close once again, proudly displaying her newest modification. “It’s exactly what you think it is,” she nibbled her bottom lip and gave her member a few strokes to make it thicken with arousal. “I think this is far more interesting… don’t you?”

Betsy wasn’t sure how to respond. This was an absolute shock to her. It also meant she had something else to fear aside from Mojo’s interference now. And yet, Psylocke was certainly curious about the modification, considering she hadn’t been able to look away from Spiral’s cock. It was an impressive dick, and as it hardened it became even more so.

With a nervous swallow, Psylocke glanced away, only to see several cameras showcasing Spiral’s length and a few more displaying her own blushing cheeks. Not only was her face a slight shade of pink, but her eyes were dilated, and her lips were gently parted as her breath had quickened. These subtle details not only displayed her shock, but also her hidden desire as well.

Spiral pulled Psylocke close, allowing them to feel each other’s warmth without a barrier between them any longer. They both let out a soft gasp of pleasure, although Spiral’s was far more dramatic and drawn out. Betsy felt ashamed as her body continued to betray her with every quickened heartbeat and involuntary shiver of pleasure.

“Let’s give our audience a show they’ll never forget,” Spiral purred into Psylocke’s ear while she rubbed her body against the captive’s. “What do you say…?” She whispered, sending further chills down Betsy’s spine. Spiral remained close to Psylocke as she moved behind her, remaining close enough that their bodies still rubbed against one another the entire time. The captive woman closed her eyes as she felt Spiral’s hard, hot dick sliding along her hips until it rested directly against her rear.

Psylocke’s mind raced as she wondered if this was actually happening, only to be distracted as a faint mechanical hum surrounded them. Two panels opened on either side of the duo and a pair of sleek, metallic, ribbed tendrils rose from the openings. Each tentacle moved with an eerie fluidity, as if they were living creatures. Their shiny surface was glaringly reflective under the harsh studio lights. The captive mutant stared in awe and fear, their intent unmistakable.

She stared at the tendrils as they slithered toward her, her face a mix of shock, fear, and curious lust. The metallic tentacles brought out an unwanted anticipation as her heart rate increased while the cameras captured everything. Psylocke didn’t attempt to fight against them as they wrapped around her ankles, causing her to tense up from the chill of the cold metal against her skin. Spiral leaned in, gently grinding against Psylocke’s rear as she pulled her into a standing position. “That’s right,” she seductively whispered. “Give in.”

Betsy’s feet slid against the floor as the tentacles moved with a gentle, yet unerring strength, forcing her legs to spread. She gasped as she stared down, past her heaving chest, over her flat stomach and to her bald pussy, knowing that everyone had this exact same view of her humiliating surrender. She found herself staring at her own nipples, painfully hard from the chilled air, and she forced herself to look away.

As personal as that point-of-view shot had been, it was nothing compared to the various other cameras. Some were pointed upward as her legs spread wider, showcasing the wetness that shimmered between her legs and dripped from her folds. Others focused on Spiral’s thick cock as it pressed against her rear. Each screen displayed the captive mutant from angles she’d never imagined with such vivid detail that both terrified and further aroused her. Psylocke clenched her eyes shut and tried to close her legs, only for the tendrils to truly demonstrate their unyielding strength as they pulled them further apart.

Spiral nipped at Betsy’s neck, playfully trailing up to her ear with delicate kisses. “Don’t be so coy,” her silky, seductive tone made Psylocke shiver while the villainess’ multiple hands caressed her body. “Just relax.” Spiral kneaded her breasts while she firmly pressed her own against Psylocke’s back. Other hands rubbed and caressed her captive’s hips while some paid attention to her own altered physique, stroking herself and smearing pre-cum along the soft curves of Psylocke’s ass.

Betsy groaned and opened her eyes, only to be drawn to the cameras that were trained on her enemy. They detailed every bit of Spiral’s body—the shimmering sheen of sweat upon her back, the way her muscles flexed beneath the skin, and even that big, pulsing dick as it was slapped against her skin. She couldn’t believe she was actually watching her own violation as it happened. There was no reason she should have enjoyed any part of this. But, maybe Spiral was right. Maybe she wanted this after all.

Before Psylocke could respond, she watched a new tendril slide forward all of a sudden. She rapidly blinked as she tried to figure out when another panel had opened, but that hardly mattered now. The tentacle glistened, which told her all she needed to know. The lubricated thing moved beneath her spread legs and then rose upward until the slick, conical end prodded against her asshole. Psylocke clenched to deny entry, but the tentacle hummed to life as it vibrated against her rim. The sensation was jarring and reverberated through her lower body.

As if she had already been conditioned in this short amount of time, she turned her attention to the screens, only to see impossible views of the buzzing tip of the tentacle slowly inserting itself into her rear. Psylocke blushed and gawked as she watched another screen from the tendril’s point-of-view as her own puckered rim was penetrated in hi-definition. She saw the crinkled flesh bypassed, leading to her soft, pink insides as it pushed inside. Betsy was mortified, especially since, despite the deep shame that coursed through her mind, it actually felt good. The tentacle burrowed deeper and deeper into her most intimate of areas, making sure to prod and press against every erogenous pleasure point along the way. She felt every ridge and contour of the tendril as it pushed past her rim, and then again as it pulled out. Psylocke was a mess. Her pussy was dripping wet as her ass was thoroughly explored and broadcast to a horde of viewers.

Meanwhile, Spiral grinned happily as she watched the various displays. “You’re taking it so well,” she cooed as she stepped away from Psylocke, letting the captive mutant crumple to her hands and knees now that the six-armed assailant was no longer holding her up. The tendril in her ass continued to pump into her rear, causing Psylocke to arch her back with pleasure. Spiral grabbed Betsy by the hair, lifting her head upward, and as she opened her eyes she was greeted by the villainess stroking her hard, dripping cock.

“Open wide,” Spiral playfully commanded, although Psylocke’s lips were already parted between a moan of pleasure and from the shocking view of her enemy’s dick.

Psylocke was overwhelmed by sensation. Her vision darted to the screens, only to see new angles of herself. Some showed her breasts swaying beneath her, others displayed her rear from various angles, and others showed her pussy glistening with arousal. The one that caught her attention was a close-up of her mouth, though. Spiral’s dick was in the shot as well, and Betsy watched as she unconsciously licked her lips in preparation of what was to come next. She was confused. She hadn’t done that… had she? Surely this was a trick by these cybernetic eyes.

Spiral took advantage of her captive’s confusion and eased forward, sliding her cock into Psylocke’s mouth. Her lips parted and then gripped the other woman’s shaft, causing her to blush as she looked up along the villainess’ smooth, muscled stomach. She grinned downward as she eased her cock just a bit further until the head rubbed over Psylocke’s tongue, forcing her to fully savor the taste. With that bit of encouragement, Betsy couldn’t hold back any longer. Her lips firmly gripped Spiral’s shaft as she applied a gentle suction to her member after it tapped the back of her tongue. Slowly, she pulled back, her cheeks hollowing just a bit while Spiral happily moaned.

“That’s it,” Spiral complimented as her grip on Psylocke’s hair weakened. “Put that talented tongue to good use.”

Psylocke’s eyes widened as she suddenly felt a new tendril as it pressed against her dripping pussy. It hardly required any effort as it slid into her, pushing firmly forward until it bottomed out. Betsy happily groaned from the sudden feeling of fullness that was further accentuated by the other tentacle that plunged into her ass. They sawed back and forth within her, separated by only a thin membrane between them.

The mutant’s eyes rolled back as the overwhelming pleasure pushed her beyond her limits. She couldn’t focus at all as all three holes were so thoroughly used at the same time. The wondrous torture wouldn’t be so simple and crass, though. While Psylocke’s eyes were cameras, they also relayed images directly to her brain. Betsy’s point of view was currently Spiral’s abs rapidly approaching and retreating while Psylocke’s nose smashed against her hard flesh again and again. That image, while enticing and useful, did nothing to break their mutant captive.

With a blink, Psylocke’s vision flickered to a camera that was trained on her sweating, over-fucked form as she writhed in pleasure. She watched herself jerk and twitch from the odd, disorienting view, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. Even if she closed her eyes, the image persisted. She watched her ass and pussy being pounded by the tentacles while drool dripped from her chin as Spiral plunged into her mouth. The view changed every few seconds to a new angle, as if she was just another viewer instead of the one experiencing it all.

Spiral’s body moved so fluidly as she slammed into her mouth, each muscle tensing as if she were performing a sensuous dance. Tears dripped along Psylocke’s cheeks as she continuously gagged on the villainess’ thick cock. Her ass and pussy clenched around the invading tendrils. There was a close-up of Spiral’s face and she watched as the woman moaned and breathed heavily. She nibbled her bottom lip as she got closer to release. The view suddenly shifted as the six-armed woman reached back, gripping her own ass cheeks and spreading them wide, exposing her pink, puckered hole to the prying eyes of their voyeuristic audience before she cried out. “H-hurry! I want one, too! Shove a tentacle up my ass!”

As commanded, a dripping, lubricated tentacle almost immediately came out of nowhere and firmly inserted itself into Spiral’s tight, winking asshole. It moved with precision and intent as it made short, hard plunges into the villainess, focusing its attention entirely on her newly-formed prostate. Spiral groaned as she kept herself spread while the tip of the tentacle thrummed to life with its overpowered vibrations. The white-haired woman’s body tensed and she breathed heavily as she gripped Psylocke’s head with two hands. Her powerful hips became a blur of motion as she held the captive mutant’s head in place and rapidly slammed into her throat while her cock pulsed and throbbed. Thick, gooey eruptions of cum splattered all over Psylocke’s tonsils and the back of her throat while Spiral continued to stimulate her gag reflex. The result was a messy sputter of white, oozing cum dripping from the corners of her mouth while she witnessed the whole ordeal as an observer.

Psylocke couldn’t concentrate on that for long, though. The camera angle changed again, focusing on her crotch. She watched as the tendrils alternated their pumping motion of her orifices, all while feeling their thick, segmented sections slide in and out of her. Her toes clenched and her legs shivered as she felt the staggering sensation of her climax quickly building within her core. The feeling rapidly spread, consuming every fiber of her body as waves of ecstasy pushed her over the edge. Psylocke groaned and sputtered with cum still oozing from her lips. Her pussy and asshole clenched around the pumping tendrils as she reached her climax while staring at a close-up of her holes spasming around the metallic invaders.

Spiral grinned as she finally pulled her cock from Betsy’s mouth and tapped it against her face to smear cum along her visage. Pyslocke’s eyes flickered as her actual sight returned, only to be face-to-face with her enemy’s dick once more. She breathed heavily while she trembled from the intensity of her orgasm, realizing that this ordeal was far from finished. The tentacles in her ass and pussy remained, although they were much calmer than before, only twitching occasionally to remind her of their presence. By now, the post-orgasmic clarity sank in, leaving Psylocke experiencing a wave of shame for what she had just done… and what she knew so many people had watched…

Psylocke’s gaze swiftly darted to the myriad of screens, now looping a montage of the moments leading to her orgasm. She watched her own back arch, sweat dripping over her exposed flesh, her breasts jiggling, and the deluge of cum trailing from her mouth.

Spiral had stepped behind the distracted captive and effortlessly hefted her up with a single motion. The tendrils around Psylocke’s ankles released their grasp while the villainess’ hands caressed Betsy’s body. One set of hands held on to Psylocke’s bound wrists, pulling them back until they were firmly held behind her head. The position forced Psylocke to arch her back, thrusting her chest out, leaving her feeling even more vulnerable than before. Those cameras zoomed in, watching her chest with great interest as each breath made her breasts rise and fall, or spotlighting beads of sweat as they trailed toward her hard nipples.

Another pair of arms wrapped around Psylocke and cupped her breasts. One hand was soft and warm, as to be expected, but the other was metallic, which made the captive mutant yelp and attempt to twitch away. Spiral chuckled at Psylocke’s expense while she pinched and rolled the woman’s nipples between her thumbs and pointer fingers, alternating between gentle caresses and sharp, sudden twists that sent jolts of confused pleasure and pain through Psylocke’s body.

The last pair of the white-haired villainess’ hands gripped the back of Psylocke’s knees, lifting her feet into the air and spreading her legs wide. Her grip faltered for a moment as she yanked the tentacle out of her captive’s pussy, then immediately grabbed her leg again.

“I think it’s time we give our audience what they’ve been waiting for,” Spiral chuckled as she ground her dick against Psylocke’s dripping folds. She released her teasing grip on one of the captive mutant’s breasts in order to guide her dick more precisely against Betsy’s pussy before she let her sink onto her thick, hot cock. A loud, wanton moan poured from Psylocke’s lips as her pussy clenched around Spiral’s member.

From this angle, Psylocke had an unobstructed view of the various screens. She intently watched as she witnessed her labia part as the thick shaft pushed into her and stretched her open. She watched and felt every agonizing inch as she was lowered onto Spiral’s massive cock. Betsy felt every pulsing vein as it filled her completely.

Once she had taken the whole thing, Spiral paused to allow her captive co-star to  experience the fullness. Now, using her multiple arms for leverage, she moved. It was a slow, torturous lift, followed by a deep, forceful drop that partially knocked the air from Psylocke’s lungs. The tentacle in her ass wasn’t idle, as this renewed motion caused it to stir again, pumping and buzzing in time with Spiral’s rhythm. Betsy felt like a sex toy for her enemy, and yet her body responded in a traitorous fashion as waves of undesired pleasure surged through her core.

Spiral’s movements became more frenzied as she worked harder to bounce Psylocke on her cock. The white-haired villainess wanted more, though. Even with her strength and stamina, lifting the over-fucked mutant up and down was sapping her energy. She released Psylocke’s arms and deftly spun Psylocke around, flipping her upside down before placing her onto the floor upon her shoulders with her ass in the air. Spiral grinned down at Betsy as she beheld her cum-stained visage while that tentacle remained embedded in her ass.

Spiral slapped her hands upon Psylocke’s glistening ass cheeks while she straddled her form and shoved her dick back into her dripping pussy. From this position, she could thrust forward much harder and go so much deeper into the warm, velveteen depths of Psylocke’s cunt. Her fingers dug into the ample flesh of Betsy’s ass as she slammed her hips forward at a relentless pace. The room echoed with the sloppy, slapping sounds of their pairing. Spiral watched as Psylocke’s stomach bulged with the outline of her dick, which only spurred her to work even harder.

The whole time, Psylocke groaned as she stared upward, watching Spiral’s ass jiggle from every thrust, seeing those heavy nuts bounce against her bald mound, and getting an occasional glimpse of her enemy’s asshole.

“Th-this is incredible!” Spiral grunted as she squeezed her own breasts. One hand tugged her nipples while another was wrapped in her own hair, yanking her head backwards as her tempo rapidly increased. “This feels so good! S-so good! C-cumming…!” She cried out as she immediately slowed down, only for her last few thrusts to be harder but far less coordinated than before. Her cock throbbed within Psylocke’s cunt as every flex forced a heavy gush of cum deep into her enemy.

“Y-yes!” Spiral continued to moan as she pulled out after savoring the warm, tightness of the captive mutant’s cum-drooling pussy. “Mojo…! Fill her up as much as you can. I want to see her explode…” Her voice was seductive and frightening.

In response to the command, the tendril still buried in Psylocke’s rear pulsed and expanded. Betsy’s eyes widened as she felt a sudden, liquid warmth rush into her rear. It didn’t take long for that surprising sensation to become uncomfortable as the pressure increased. The cameras zoomed in, capturing every detail as Psylocke’s stomach bulged. In this position, she had no choice but to watch her flat, toned abdomen round out before her eyes. She groaned and twitched against Spiral’s insistent grip while she felt the force inside of her pressing against other organs to accommodate the increasing volume.

Sweat beaded upon Psylocke’s forehead and her eyes flickered. She couldn’t hold out any longer as the tentacle still thrust into her. The white, frothy traces of the liquid formed around her rim before the pressure became too much.

A wicked smirk graced Spiral’s lips as Psylocke’s vision reverted to the camera views. The captive mutant already knew this was bad, and the sudden switch solidly reinforced that premise. Psylocke whined with a loud, intense cry of orgasmic bliss as the tendril withdrew, leaving Betsy’s ass to instantly erupt with a geyser of cum-like liquid. The cameras captured every detail of the arc of the fluid, displaying it in slow-motion as it gushed into the air and splattered against her ass while mixing with the cum and sweat that already coated her body. Her pussy clenched around nothing while Spiral’s seed oozed out, only to be lost in the deluge of liquids that splattered against her.

Spiral continued to grin as Psylocke’s humiliating climax was captured and broadcast across Mojo World. She finally allowed Betsy to relax from that awkward position, although she was now in a puddle of fluids that continued to leak from her abused holes. Psylocke’s vision was still tied to the cameras, displaying her heaving chest while she was covered in a mixture of bodily fluids. The villainess knelt next to her over-fucked lover and cradled her head against her thighs while she idly stroked Psylocke’s hair in a gentle contrast to the brutality of only moments ago.

“What a performance,” Spiral cooed as she gazed down at her co-star that barely clung to consciousness.

“I’ll say!” Mojo’s voice excitedly piped in through a speaker. One of the screens switched over to his overjoyed grin as he pointed to a read-out that displayed the ratings for this particular broadcast. “This is one for the record books! With numbers like these, I’ll be able to justify distribution throughout the multiverse!”



Scott blinked as he watched the lurid video on his computer. He didn’t believe what he saw on screen. Psylocke enthusiastically bobbed her head up and down on a massive dick. She pulled away with an audible ‘pop’ before yet another cock was thrust into her face, which she happily wrapped her fingers around and jerked off.

There was no way this was real. It couldn’t be. The stream claimed to be a live broadcast, but he had just seen Betsy a few hours ago. But, even if it was fake, it didn’t change the fact that his dick was rock hard, straining against his pants right now. He narrowed his eyes as he wondered if he had time…

And just as he placed his hand on his zipper, the door opened wide and Jean entered. Scott hurriedly closed the browser window, only to reveal a different window that displayed a petite, dark-haired woman with claws and a massive dick that hung limp between her thighs. Scott’s cheeks soon matched his ruby-quartz  sunglasses as he closed this window, too.

“Oh, hey! Uh, Jean…! I was just—uh—” He tried to think of a way to explain himself.

Jean tilted her head and glared at him with disbelief. “Just… stop. I’m telepathic. I already know what you were looking at.” She sighed and shook her head in disgust. “And the saddest part is that this isn’t even the weirdest thing I’ve seen today…”

As Jean closed the door behind her on the way out, Scott remained frozen and confused by the interaction. And after he thought about it a bit longer, he shrugged and opened the browser again before he reached for his zipper once more…

*

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