Fucking The Hell Out Of Her

Illyana Rasputin was beautiful, all of her brother’s bluntly overwhelming personal charisma chiseled and sculpted into fine Slavic features: precise where he was big and muscular, angular where he was broad. High cheekbones, slanted eyes, finely etched eyebrows, even a subtly pointed chin, all bringing a uniquely feminine character to an oval face that seemed half-borrowed from Piotr, the family resemblance was so close. 

To say nothing of her body, which she showed off in a costume that almost put Emma Frost to shame. Belly-baring top, cut at the chest to show off her cleavage—elbow-length gloves—crotch-hugging shorts over thigh-high boots, and all in black leather, a demonic contrast to her angelic face, taking whatever cuteness lingered in her mature features and twisting it irrevocably into eroticism. Yes, she had a lovely face, a lovely body. It was a shame what he would have to do to it.

Scott’s palm smashed across Illyana’s face, twisting her head to the side and leaving her cheek burning with red. She immediately wrenched her head back to face him. Her eyes blazed. Her lips turned up at the corners, almost flirtatious as she considered the pain lingering after the blow. Her defiance roared through her body language, her expression, filling the space of Scott’s office where they were having their private meeting.

“How dare y—“

“You disobeyed my orders in the field today,” Scott told her calmly, now crossing his arms. There was no more regret in his stance or his stoic face than there was in his ruby-quartz visor. “It didn’t result in any casualties, but that might not be the case next time. I won’t tolerate insubordination. You will be disciplined and this will not happen again.”

Illyana spat a glob of bloody spittle onto his carpet, smirking maliciously as it soaked into the fiber. She’d give Scott this—he hadn’t held back because she was a woman. He’d hit her almost hard enough to be fun.

“You think I’m afraid of a little pain? I was raised in Hell, tovarisch. Do your worst.”

“Alright,” Scott said evenly, not altering his body language or facial expression one iota. “Strip.”

“What? Nyet! Fuck you.”

Scott backhanded her, his hand finishing the motion before she could even think to dodge. A rivulet of blood ran from her split lip. Before she could wipe it away, Scott seized her by her blonde hair and wrenched her head back, making her look up at his towering height looming over her.

“I know pain doesn’t scare you. You like it. You’re a slut for it. In fact, after all those years of sucking demon cock, I’ll bet you’re a whore for just about anything. So maybe punishing you won’t make a difference; I might as well enjoy myself. Strip naked and we’ll see if taking a ten-inch prick will remind you that you’re just a cock holster. You do as you’re told, when you’re told, because that’s how whores act when men tell them to do things.”

Illyana growled, showing her gritted teeth. “Take your hands off me, churka!”

“Maybe you’re not even worth fucking.” Scott put his free hand around her slender neck. Illyana’s eyes lit up, fear written on her face as she breathed heavier. “Not even worth choking. I could go to Emma right now and have her ass. We could share a laugh at how pathetic you are—not even able to get a man when you go around dressed like that, a fucking streetwalker. Take your goddamn clothes off or get out of my office. I don’t talk to silly little girls who don’t even know they’re cum dumpsters.”

All of Illyana’s body vibrated. Her brain felt on fire with shame and the lingering pain from Scott’s slaps. Mechanically, Illyana unzipped her top and pulled it off. Her pants were even easier. Despite their tightness, after she unbuckled her belt, they just fell down her long legs. All she had left on was her gloves and boots. And the red in her cheeks now matching the blush spreading over her chest.

“Better,” Scott said. “Not a bad body either. You’re no match for Emma, but I’m feeling charitable. And the next time you think about disobeying orders, I want you to remember this. You’re a whore and you do as you’re told, here, in the Danger Room, out in the field. You don’t deserve to be my slut, to get to follow my orders, but I’m taking pity on you. I know how much you want to be a cock holster.”

“Da—please—“ Illyana groaned. “Fuck m—“

Scott slapped her again; Illyana let out a moan of pure desire. “Don’t ever tell me what to do. You don’t even get to beg unless I tell you to. I can see I’m going to have to teach you your place—you’re not even smart enough to know how to be a dumb slut. Maybe I should have you stand in the corner while I fuck Emma. You could learn how a whore’s supposed to act while you watch her come like you could’ve.”

“No… no, sir… please don’t…” Illyana bit her lip. “I’m a dirty whore. My cunt’s wet. I’m ready to swallow your cum like a good girl, or take it in my—my worthless pussy if you think I’ve earned it. You can do whatever you want to my body.”

“I know that, slut. But it’s good that you know it.” Scott rubbed his chin. “Alright, let’s give you a little chance. What’s the proper place for a whore?”

Illyana got down on her knees and opened her mouth, her hands submissively held behind her back with wrists crossed. Scott felt a pang of arousal go through his cock as he looked at her.

“That’s a little better. Now beg. No more pretending you’re not a little cum-slut who needs to be fucked.”

Illyana’s eyes shut as if in ecstasy. “Make me your whore, Scott. Use me. I’ll be good to your prick. I won’t forget my place again, not after I’ve had your big cock.”

Scott walked up to her. Taking her head in his hands, he rubbed his bulging groin against her face. Pushing down, he moved her mouth to his balls. “Kiss my balls,” he said. “Show me how much you want my cum.”

“I don’t deserve your cum,” Illyana moaned, but through his pants, she sucked on the weight of his scrotum, kissing and licking, purring like a cat. She remembered how Scott’s ass looked in his costume, all the firm muscle of his buttocks on display, and she wished she could use her hands to feel him. But she had to obey—had to do only as she was told, otherwise she’d never convince Scott to reward her with his cock, his cum, with being his whore…

She mouthed his balls desperately, feeling them throb. The outline of his cock pressed against her nose, swollen to a girth and hardness Illyana’d had no idea she merited. Maybe she was a good whore—Scott was making her a good whore.

“Take my pants down,” Scott said, his hands still on her head, but not moving her. For now, she was trusted enough to act without his personal guidance.

Illyana tampered down her enthusiasm and obediently opened Scott’s trousers, pulling them down to his knees along with his underwear. She kissed his scrotum, now able to feel the hair there prickling against her lips, and she grabbed his naked ass, digging her fingers into the toned muscle. 

Scott twisted his fingers in her hair and pulled her off his balls. Illyana whimpered, trying to reach them again with her mouth, but Scott gave her a brisk slap, just enough to remind her of her place when pain came to the forefront of her mind for a brief moment. She looked up at him, broadcasting willingness and submission with her eyes, her moistly parted lips still tasting the sweat of his musk.

“Well, at least now you’re acting like a whore,” Scott said. “Now we just have to make you an obedient whore. One who deserves my cock. You want my cock, don’t you?”

Illyana nodded desperately. 

“I won’t give it to you if you don’t appreciate it. Show me how much you love my cock, what an obedient whore you’re going to be.”

He pushed his cock into her mouth; with a muffled moan, Illyana took it. She sucked it deep into her mouth, surrendering her throat to him. Scott took full advantage, gripping her horns and using it to jerk her face back and forth, impaling her mouth with his cock. Illyana pulled at his ass, helping him fuck her face. She thought of her wet, hot lips as a cunt he was fucking and sucked fervently, wet sounds of ecstasy coming up from her chest, her eyes rolling back in her head. Illyana didn’t just want his cock, she wanted to be used, and Scott knew exactly what her mouth and everything else was for.

Scott’s prick throbbed and dripped precum into her mouth and Illyana was in ecstasy, she was in heaven. Then Scott pulled himself out of her mouth. 

“You haven’t earned my cum,” Scott said, and as impossible as it sounded, the ruby quartz over his eyes seemed to have a wicked gleam. He petted her long blonde hair: “Maybe if you had followed orders, then you’d be my cock holster right now. But now you have to prove you’re a good whore.”

“Anything, Scott!” Illyana sobbed, her blood heated, her pussy on fire. She was almost out of her mind with desire. He could do anything to her, as long as it meant she didn’t have to stop being a whore. “Yes, please, use my whore pussy!”

“I told you not to give me orders,” Scott said, but his warning was said with a trace of smile. He knew she was trying, that she was broken in. “If you knew how to satisfy your pussy, you wouldn’t be dripping wet right now like a bitch in heat, would you?”

His powerful hands sized her slender wrists and he pulled her to her feet. Even if she’d wanted to, Illyana could tell she couldn’t free herself of his grip. 

Scott kicked off his fallen pants and marched her to one of the room’s chairs, a straight-backed wooden chair. He bent her over the crosspiece; it gouged into Illyana’s tender belly. She was left with her bare ass in the air, Scott’s powerful muscles forcing her head down over the chair’s back until her face was pressed down against the seat. 

Her breath heaved in and out of her lungs. She was totally at Scott’s mercy. Her only choice was in how to accept his dominance. And even then, her body’s screaming desire left her few options. All she could really do was try to hold in her whorish begging for fear of offending him. 

Stripping off the rest of his costume, Scott went to his desk. He opened a drawer and took out a length of coarse brown twine; exactly the sort of thing Illyana would’ve expected him to keep on hand. He went back to her, fondly ruffling Illyana’s hair as he crouched in front of her. She knew it was approval of how she was staying in the position he’d placed her in. 

He tied her ankles to the chair’s legs. Thankfully, Illyana couldn’t feel how rough it was through her boots. Then he looped the twine around Illyana’s wrists, tying them to the other legs of the chair. Illyana was left doubled over the back of the chair, her legs locked in place, her hands tied down right next to them so that she was virtually hog-tied, only with her ass in the air instead of her limbs.

Scott patted her ass, white and tender, its juicy contours rippling with even the tiny amount of force he touched it with. “You have a nice ass, Illyana. Let’s see what it feels like when it’s wrapped around my cock.”

“Yes, sir.”