Wolverine had no idea where he was or how long he'd been there. In fact, there were a lot of things he was no longer sure of.
It had been less than a day since Emma had found him in heap in an
alleyway, brain scrambled just enough by Kitty's intangible attack. The
world's most dangerous mutant, nothing more than another sack of trash
in a dirty alley, she mused. Grudgingly, though, Emma had to admit that
she was impressed when she psy-scanned Logan to be sure he was
unconscious. Reaching into his mind, she saw that he had, somehow, been
on the verge of re-establishing control of his legendary rage, seconds
away from preventing himself from doing whatever it was he had planned
to do to Kitty.
That wouldn't do at all.
Still furious at him for lowering her standing in the eyes of her
master, Gambit, The White Queen was determined to destroy any shred of
respectability Wolverine had earned for himself via decades of heroic
redemption and daily battles against his feral nature. She knew she was
going to release the beast, so to speak, but she hadn't yet decided what
kind of beast that would be. It wasn't until she'd returned to Gambit's
current base of operations - the Double P porn studio, which now
belonged fully to Gambit and was already pulling in twice as much money
as it had been thanks alone to the debut films of its new #1 star,
"Rogue Raven" - that the answer presented itself.
The Producer's jaw dropped when he saw Emma came strutting in with
her newest acquisitions, the impossibly transformed Kitty Pryde and the
ridiculously surgically enhanced Jubilee and Armor. The latter two -
Jubilee with perfectly, extremely fake-looking Double-D tits and
collagen-enhanced lips and Armor with those obscene H-cups that Emma's
world class surgeon had put in after Emma had removed every shred of
conscience in his mind - were already fully-healed thanks to the sample
of Wolverine's blood. Just by pure physics, there was no doubt their new
bodies had to be the result of plastic surgery, and yet thanks to her
surgeon's skill and the rapid, skin-level healing, there was literally
no way to tell. They were simply perfect, twisted visions of
pornographic perversion, faker and cheaper than Kitty's Masque-generated
changes, but more than enough to make even the jaded smut peddlar
instanty hard.
"Holy shit," he said, in astonishment. "We're gonna be fucking porn billionaires."
Emma rolled her eyes, but she knew he was right. None of the three
could hold a candle to Emma's own beauty, she thought, but there was no
doubt that just seeing these three and their superperfect new bodies
triggered filthy thoughts in every man who had laid eyes on them so far.
"I suppose you're right. Here, put these two brainless bimobs to
work-" she gestured towards Jubilee and Armor - "but keep it very...low
key for now. The Master may want to sample them before they do anything
challenging." They had arrived back at the studio while Gambit, the
Purple Man and their respective "teams" where still out in the field. "I
have something else, but I'm not quite sure what to do
with...it...yet."
Kitty re-entered pushing Logan, now comatose thanks to Emma's own
mental powers, in a wheelchair. "Meet the rabid Wolverine, the most
dangerous man alive," Emma sneered, the contempt clear in her voice.
"That's Wolverine?" the producer asked, recovering from the shock of
meeting his Master's newest employees. He stared down at the short,
hairy mutant, trying to place him as the dangerous killer that he'd
heard about. "Looks more like The Hedgehog to me," he laughed. "You know
what I mean, Frost? There's a guy-"
"Yes, yes," Emma cut him off, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the
image she pulled out of the Producer's head. "I can see the resem..."
She trailed off, and looked back at Logan again, a smile forming on her
face as she decided just how to put Wolverine into service and bring him
low as she'd hoped.
***
Hours had passed, and Wolverine had spent most of them chained in a
semi standing position in one of the studio's props for its dominatrix
films. His arms and legs where frozen in an outstretched X. His eyes had
been forced open by metal wires, straight out of A Clockwork Orange.
For hours, he was able to do nothing but watch a giant screen as Doube P
Studios' "greatest hits" played on a loop, intersperced with some
special footage. Emma had spent the early going slowly picking through
Logan's mind - ravaged by years of experiments and literal brain damage
from his countless fights - and casually discarding memories of his
heroic deeds, replacing them with what he was seeing on screen. In
between shots of existing Double P porno movies were fleeting shots of
Logan himself, mindlessly hammering away at some of the same porn stars
he was watching get fucked on film. There was no longer any way for him
to know, but these brief shots had been filmed shortly before with Emma
herself telepathically using Logan as a puppet with some of the studio's
contract girls. To him, however, these images mixed with the rest of
the diet of filth his mind was being fed and started to take root.
Of course that was him up there on screen, fucking those...(his
damaged brain searched for a word, only to settle on one he heard one of
the actors on screen use)...fucking those whores. That's what he did.
And wasn't he the the best there is at what he does? After all, wasn't
he-
A quick flash of text on the screen, nearly subliminal, helped him finish the thought.
"I'm Weapon Sex!"
As this continued over hours, Emma had discovered one of the many
less known uses for Wolverine's fabled healing powers. As Logan
continued to watch and absorb the footage on screen, The Producer had
sent in some of his contract girls into the room, taking turns going
down on him with their own notable skills. And no matter how many times
Logan had cum, he was instantly hard again, instantly ready for more. "A
human fucking machine" the Producer had marveled, and this time Emma
laughed along with him, knowing that Logan's brain was trying to heal
over its own badly scarred memories, potentially helping this new
reality set in, a jumble of his real past and what he was sure was his
recent past working a talent for Double P Studios.
***
Back to the present, a thin line of drool trailed out of Logan's
mouth. He continued to absent-mindedly mumble back the dialogue he heard
the actors say on screen. At the moment, he was watching cheap camera
video acquired from the Morlocks of Callisto roughly fucking the
newly-changed Kitty the way he'd found her. Below him, just in the range
of his line of vision, Kitty herself had wrapped her massive ne tits
around Logan's still-hard cock, pumping away at it. Just the way it
always was, at least how he remembered it.
"Yeah..." he mumbled, still partly out of it. "F...fuck those tits. I'm the Wolverine..."
"He's ready," Emma noted, massaging Logan's new mental timeline,
keeping in place his time "training" at the X-Mansion and Avengers
tower, but merging both with images of the porn studio. "Add in the new
footage."
Kitty stepped up the pace, pumping furiously away with her massive
juggs. Wolverine let out a low growl, still mumbling to himself as much
to Kitty, in rhythym with her.
"Yeah. Fuck those tits. Fuck 'em fuck 'em fuck 'em..."
On screen, the clips of Kitty interspersed with more of the Double P
archive, but then other brief images began to flash by. News footage of
other superheroines and villanesses not yet in Gambit's control. Even
before all of this, Wolverine had secretly lusted after most of them the
same as everyone else, but now it just seemed natural. They should join
the biz. After all...
"I'm the best at what I do," he rumbled, more forcefully. Kitty had
pushed him to the tipping point, and he exploded another load - one of
dozens and dozens he'd shot in these hours - all over the face of what
had once been one of his most trusted friends. He'd have done anything
for her once, but now he just smiled as he finished spurting jizz all
over Kitty's face, tits and hair.
"I'm The Fucking Wolverine!" he screamed, triumphantly.
And seconds later, he was ready to go again.