Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Despite the rumours from around the superhero community, Kamala thought that Krakoa was pretty awesome. Professor Xaivier’s psychic global broadcast had sent more than a few chills down some spines and more than a few personal superhero group chats talked more than once on how the X-men felt more stuck up now. Still, Captain America vouched for them, which meant more than enough for her.

Krakoa was gorgeous, lush and vibrant plants and foliage blended beautifully with one another. Reds, blues and yellows popped forward and above, but not dulling the green vines beneath them. The structures made of twisting and wrapping vines was something out of a scifi movie, which felt ridiculous to think considering they had space stations, ships and aliens for real. 

She wasn't sure that the first one was common knowledge. It was something to verify with Carol Danvers for sure, lest she spilled beans that weren't supposed to be spilled. She had a good streak, she wasn't going to lose that over a space station, she hadn't even been on. Speaking of space, was it true she could just casually walk to Mars? And if so, how much trouble would she get in for sneaking in Bruno with her? 

She didn't think she would, not when everyone on the island was so friendly! She knew Scott of course and had teamed up with some of the others in the past- but it was a testimony to the community that there were still so many amazing Mutants she hadn't met yet. Kinda inspiring after so many years of hearing about Mutant massacres that now they were thriving.

It was a community she was part of now, ever since her death and subsequent resurrection. Mutant and Inhuman even if the former's powers hadn't manifested yet. It sucked that she had to die during Spider-Man's midlife crisis and after using a power she frankly hadn’t even been sure she could still use, no less. If she didn't know any better, Kamala would say someone had some explaining to do. But meeting everyone might just make it worth it. 

After coming back, Emma freaking Frost herself and Scott both explained that she'd always be welcome here and the nineteen year old Inhuman/Mutant planned to take advantage of that. 

Maybe she could meet some of the X-Men she hadn't met yet- 

Jean Grey. The new Wolverine. Iceman .

STORM, SHE COULD MEET ORORO MUNROE HERSELF!

Okay, maybe she was just a bit over excited. But it wasn't just any day you had the chance to meet these people just walking down the street- except, that was her reality now wasn't it? It seemed like everywhere she was bumping into new exciting people- just a matter of seeing who she bumped into next!

And you could meet anyone, she'd seen Deadpool and Wanda Maximoff talking over coffee, Shark Girl organising swimming lessons on the beach, Magik hosting classes of the same name, she even spotted Gwenpool and her Landshark Jeff getting a tan! 

Funny, it had been quite a while since she'd seen her as well and she'd said 'good luck with the fanfiction' and everything. Which was nice, but Gwen said it with some kind of weird sly tone that made Kamala uneasy in the moment.

Still, it was hard to stay uneasy for long in Krakoa and Kamala was certain that it would give her experiences she'd cherish forever…

♦

“Girls,”

The Five-in-one came as they always did, together. Perfectly identical in every way, only one was allowed a slight distinction. Today, Celeste wore black, the rest stayed in white. “Yes, Mum?” 

Emma would have liked to say that over the years she got used to the voices of all five of her children speaking at once in her mind, but she had gotten used to three and as such, five felt unnecessarily loud. She’d dare say it was on purpose.

Five familiar and pristine smiles appeared on five little faces. So, on purpose it was. While Emma did appreciate the power play, she’d put them in their place another time. Her gloved fingers knitted together and she eased back into her office chair. Her desk was pristine and composed of white marvel, very few mementos aside from a few photographs on it. Naturally that included a photo of her daughters, something she picked up and held in her hands to examine as a useful prop.

They rolled their eyes at the sentiment, Emma liked to think she was doing better at mothering these days, it helped they were adults already. Twenty years old and—

“Twenty-one.”  They corrected.

Emma hummed. “I’m not perfect.”

“Tell us about it. What do you want? We’re busy.”

“With a task that I gave you, so I’d refrian from the attitude, If I were you five.”

“We can’t help it.” Celeste spoke.

“It's.”

“In.”

“Our.”

“DNA.”

“Cute.” Emma said, her lips pressed thin. “I know you girls are busy with this year’s Gala, and I appreciate the weight you’ve taken off my back as well as the decisions you’ve made thus far. Though I disagree with the palette choice for room four. Don’t you think, perhaps a nice luxury red would help make the area stand out more?”

“You said you wouldn’t do this.” They said, sounding distinctly annoyed and looking fairly sour, they always were when she interfered with them- but every time it was always for their own best interests. She knew best after all. It helped that she was always right. According to herself, that was.

“That doesn’t sound like me.” Emma returned a faint smile. She set the photo of them down and closed her eyes, enjoying the comfort of her chair. She could have done well with a back massage. She wondered if Scott and Jean were still on the outs. He was more fun when they were. Reminded her of the good old days, sneaking behind her back and—

“What did you want, Mum ?”

“Sorry about that. I’ve been working all day.” Emma sat up. “Now as you know we recently resurrected Ms. Marvel. I fear our interesting lifestyle here on the island would be a bit jarring for her and it would be nice if she could fit in without trouble. Now, before you complain she isn’t affected by the broadcast. Could be her inhuman side, or perhaps a feature of her shape-shifting physiology. What matters is she isn’t immune and requires a delicate and precise touch. For now, at Scott’s request, that man has a soft spot for her, I’ve placed a filter on her mind. The young woman could do with some liberation if you ask me. After all Krakoa is a paradise.”

“Krakoa is a paradise.” They hummed in monotone. Music to Emma’s ears.

“You also deserve a reward and some stress relief after all you’ve been through these days.”

Emma noted they weren’t listening to her. Celeste put a finger on her lip, thinking. The others doing similar tells, that betrayed their little thoughts. Esme bit her lip and then smiled, pleased with the thought that came to her mind.

Emma smiled, herself. Krakoa was a paradise.

♦

Of all places, Kamala found herself at the north end of the island, stumbling into what looked to be a picnic area, there were a few Mutant couples scattered about it, internally she had to stop herself from squealing and bolting over when she spotted Rogue and Gambit both of them under a tree feeding each other berries, they were doing it a little weirdly though-  but that wasn’t any of her concern. 

God, she’s shipped them since forever! Would it be weird to go over and ask them for an autograph? Probably, but all the same the temptation was there. 

Deciding to think on it, the new Mutant and long time Inhuman decided to take a seat at one of the benches to; A) figure out where exactly she was on the island because she was fairly certain she got lost ages ago, B) come to a conclusion on if she should ask them both for an autograph, and C) Just take a minute to catch her breath. 

She looked down at herself, she wasn’t wearing anything particularly fancy right now- Just her regular Ms Marvel costume with it’s fairly form fitting appearance and famous lightning bolt- weirdly ever since she got it back she’d felt like the dress part of it seemed to shorter and more apt to show off her butt- plus it was tighter to the point you could almost see her bra outline. She must’ve gotten bigger post resurrection she guessed.

She’d considered going at it casually- but figured that she’d make a better first impression as Ms Marvel and her reputation with most people before showing herself off as Kamala Khan. Which is a shame because she considered breaking out her Champions team T-Shirt that she, Nova and Spidey all got for the team. She wondered if Scott still had his, she’d have to ask him later.

She pulled out the physical map that she’d been given- she’d have looked it up on her phone but she forgot to charge it last night and it was dead as a doornail as a result. 

That got her onto a line of thinking on if the Krakoan means of resurrection could bring back dead phones and charge them to full- but she ultimately concluded it was unlikely. So instead she muttered to herself as she tried to track her own movements on the map to find out where exactly she was. 

As Kamala did so, she almost didn’t notice as she was joined by a couple of others, only looking up when she felt the light creek of the bench. 

The resemblance was uncanny. Kamala knew that even without her intimate knowledge of the X-men, and the White Queen, Emma Frost, she’d have still made the connection to her somehow. Kamala knew the Stepford Cuckoos and now she was wondering if they knew her.

All but one wore skin tight black suits that accented their bodies, in a way Kamala believed would make her self-conscious if she wore it. A part of their clothing was a large white ‘X’ that splayed over their upper torso and was accented with gold lining. It extended over their shoulders into a cape. The other one, the one that sat next to her, wore the same, only completely black, with the same golden accent.

“Ms. Marvel.” The one that had sat down said. 

“Hi!” Kamala waved a little bit with a cheery smile on her face. Many celebrities had such a smile for meeting people and strangers that knew them, often it was fake- but for Kamala it was anything but. She held out a hand. “You’re the Stepford Cuckoos right? Pleased to meet you.”

“We are,” the one in black said. “I am Celeste, these are my sisters.” She gestured to them.

One of them, of the four that were in white, clicked her tongue when introduced. Celeste cast a slight glare at them.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Kamala offered her hand to shake at each of them- although put it down when none of them did. Shame, all of them were really pretty. “So, what brings you to my lovely table here?”

Celeste smiled. “A few things. First we’d like to welcome you to Karkoa. The real Krakoa. The second is a personal quandary between the five of us, one we think your input could solve.” Celeste put her hand on her lap, knitting her fingers together. “And thank you, you are acceptable aesthetically as well, though you could use someone with better taste in costume design.”

“What do you mean the ‘real’ Krakoa?” Kamala blinked in confusion. “Is there more of the island? Also I’d be happy to help, not to brag but I’m very good at solving debates,” Kamala held her head a little high in pride before her face went burning red from embarrassment. Right, telepaths. “My best friend designed it…”

She also was really passionate about her costume, although considering they were the daughters of a fashion icon- they probably knew what they were talking about. Bruno would be outraged that his design was dissed though, she’d have to tell him later.

Still, Kamala coughed and tried to sit up a little straighter. “So, what’s the debate? You can tell me about the real Krakoa after- or before, I don’t mind.”

Celeste pursed her lips. “Well, you see, Krakoa is a living entity. It too is a mutant. One that has graciously allowed for a new beginning for our people. Are you familiar with our three laws? The one to take notice of is ‘Make more mutants’. How’d you suppose we go about that Ms. Marvel?”

One of the four exhaled loudly through her nose. Celeste shot another glance back at them. One of them, Kamala really didn’t know all of their names and she really should get on that when she could, made a motion with her eyebrows. Celeste tilted her head to one side and then rolled her eyes. She was pretty sure they were speaking psychically, which she wasn’t sure if that was rude or not, considering she was right here.

“Well- I guess that maybe you’d try and spread the X-Gene around with medicine, maybe try and trigger it in other people?” Kamala’s answer came out more of a question than anything. Of course, that hadn’t been her first guess- that one was a bit too… Well, just thinking about it made her face red. Plus, probably not the answer they wanted. “What are your names by the way? I’m Kamala, t- that’s my real name.”

She considered calling them out on the rudeness- but figured since she hadn’t asked their names until now it balanced out. She’d been giving her real name to people when she could on the island on the advice of Scott to treat everyone like a friend. That tidbit about Krakoa itself was neat though, she hadn’t known that- probably not common knowledge. “And my second name is Khan. Kamala Khan, kinda alliterative I know.” 

“Your human name is of little value here. You could decide on a proper mutant name later, though I suppose Ms. Marvel isn’t the worst one to have. As for the others, I’m in charge so they aren’t important.” Again, Celeste glared at her sisters and then a facial exchange occurred before Kamala that no doubt accompanied a verbal joust she couldn’t hear. Celeste cleared her throat. “Forget that. They will introduce themselves.”

“Sophie.”

“Phoebe.”

“Midnee.”

“Esme and this is stupid, rip the bandaid off, I don’t have time for your fetishes, Celeste. Break or not, we have things to do.”

“Would you like her to change, Esme? Since you can’t help but run your mouth like you're in charge! Maybe you should be wearing black? Or maybe you could shut up and stick to the theme we agreed on? You always want to control everything,” Phoebe suddenly snapped.

Celeste sighed. “Must you both do this? It's unbecoming of us.”

“Excuse me?” Kamala’s face was morphed into firm confusion. “ Fetishes? Theme? What’s going on?” It was slightly weird to seem them all fight so suddenly- but she was also pretty sure they’d been doing that mentally already. Still, more pressing were her questions which she intently waited for the answers for. “If you five need time to yourselves I can go…” 

“Remain seated.” They’re voices hammered into Kamala’s mind. 

“So, are we going to behave, or are we going to have to wipe her brain blank?” Celeste asked, annoyed.

“Don’t you start. Just do what you were doing. She’ll pick me anyway.” Esme folded her arms. “It's adorable how innocently she portrays herself. That fanfiction of hers isn’t as equally wholesome and those are just the ones she does write.”

“You’ve read my fanfiction?!” Kamala couldn’t help but ask way too loudly, already she was confused and embarrassed a bit because of her thoughts- but she never recommended her fanfics to anyone she knew for a reason. 

…That bit about wiping her brain blank was also very concerning. 

“Pick you for what? The debate you guys have been having?” Kamala stared intently as she tried to fit the puzzle pieces together in her mind, but utterly failed to. Real Krakoa’s, Mutant laws, a debate in a hivemind of sisters and her own fanfiction- how did it all connect? Still, she did remain seated- her curiosity in overdrive. 

“Read? No you dolt, I read your mind.” Esme scowled.

…Okay that made more sense.

“Just rip it off.” Sophie sighed.

Kamala felt when the metaphorical bandage came off. Though she guessed it was a psychic bandaid?

It was an onslaught of the senses. She heard… moaning. Kamala swallowed hard, frozen in place. The clapping of flesh, the soft begging and cries of lust and pleasure came from everything. The place stunk. The scent burned her nostril, making them flare out and twisted her gut in a familiar uncomfortable fashion. It reminded her of when she first began to type one of her NSFW fanfictions. That fear and discomfort she felt from the joy she got thinking about it, despite knowing it was wrong. She exhaled, her breath came out shakily.

Celeste moved closer to Kamala. “It's okay, take a breath. I’d recommend it.” Celeste moved to her ear. “Smell all those mutants fucking and sucking one another?” Her breath tickled Kamala’s ear.

Kamala gagged on the stench, her breathing confused and shallow as she looked around- noticing sudden acts of depravity everywhere. The environment was still beautiful of course, but the inhabitants all seemed to be far too busy to enjoy it. Most egregiously she spotted Rogue and Gambit from earlier, only her lips seemed to be wrapped around his dick, face splattered with what could only be semen- her clothes completely torn off while he looked fully like he was enjoying it. 

Without missing a beat, another mutant, she didn’t know them, walked over casually. He greeted Gambit, with a wave and some words. Two of his four hands clapped at Rogue, firm backside and spread them apart. He took his dick… dicks. And slipped them inside her butt and pussy. Kamala watched Rogue, moaned over Gambit’s cock. 

More mutants came, they watched, touching… themselves. It was… It was…

“Wh- what did you do?!” Kamala demanded, her tone full of confusion, anger, disgust and some other feelings she’d rather not admit. “Is this some kind of sick joke?” 

She pulled away from the Celeste and the table, standing away from them and slowly backing towards what she believed might have been a way out. No thank you, she didn’t want to be part of some… some depraved telepath’s fantasies. “What is this?”

Kamala psyched herself up to bolt, although she was hanging around for an explanation first, this had to be a prank, right? Maybe if she got far enough, whatever illusion they put up would fade away?

“And this is why we use subtly. You rip the bandaid off and you get panic, fear, mistrust and apprehension.” Celeste played with Kamala’s hair.

Kamala whimpered, she felt bolted down where she stood, she couldn’t move. They came for her on every side. Celeste remained where she was. Another one of them, she didn’t know which one and she didn’t care, came on the opposite side of her. Another came behind and laid their fingers over her shoulders, sending a painful shudder down her spine.

“Krakoa is a paradise.”

“For perverts maybe!” Kamala wanted to struggle, but found herself incapable. She felt it, the way they dug into her mind. It was painfully enjoyable, like they were scratching an itch she didn’t know she had. The in pour of information was even more sinfully pleasurable.

“Krakoa is a paradise.”

She was Jean Grey, Marvel Girl on her knees in the middle of a sea of cocks, all of them being pleasured at once by the powerful psychic, the insane noise of more than a hundred men all simultaneously being stroked up and down before unloading- a pleasurable noise that only made her wetter with every stroke. She almost vanished under the sea of white Jizz, but when it’s finished she dutifully begins to drink it all up, there was no wasting on Krakoa. Only use. The taste burned at her lips and down her throat even as she smiled.

Kamala gasped as she came out of the memory. She was doing her best, trying to close her eyes as if it would stop anything- but another came all the same.

“Krakoa is a paradise.”

She’s Laura Kinney, X-23, Talon, Wolverine and she’s been hunted. The thrill was unchallenged. The excitement kept the blood running and her heart pounding. Her blood flow thundered in her ears, she was smiling. Her attacker comes from the bushes. He faced her upfront. She would have done the same. She wouldn’t have expected anything different from him. Akihiro, Daken, The Dark Wolverine, her brother. When he had her, he knew what he wanted. She felt his cock inside her, pounding, rutting, filling. Make more Mutants. She’d give him a whole litter.

Kamala shivered as she left that memory as well, even as a hand was placed onto her thigh and gave it a tight squeeze. Her head found comfort backwards in something soft, arms wrapped around her shoulders. A gasp came from her lips, when knuckles rapped softly at her stomach.

“Krakoa is a paradise.”

She was a goddess, a queen, a mentor and a teacher. She was a Storm to protect her friends and punish her enemies. Today, she was busy and demanding of worship, sitting at the Quiet Council as Rachel Summers lapped at her cunt. She discussed business, policy and politics without paying much attention to the one who worshipped her- after all, how often did the God you prayed to reply? Charles was being very stubborn today, he was a visionary, but his sight was limited. Perhaps if she fought the Arrako way then maybe he’d listen for once in his life. No, that was not the way unfortunately. Instead she debated verbally for her thoughts and once the work was finished, she graced Rachel with a single nod. The young woman endured her fury even when it was not meant to be directed at her, Storm would dare say that she had enjoyed the tight grip of her hands at her red hair. She smiled. Should she have expected any less from the Summers line?

Kamala found her knees had failed and she’d collapsed onto them as finally Celeste moved, standing up and leisurely walking towards her as she forced Kamala’s head up with a single finger under her chin to look into her eyes.

“ This , Ms. Marvel, is the real Krakoa. We hope you survive the experience.” Celeste smiled. 

Chapter Text

Dying wasn’t as bad as you’d think. It was a softer thing when you finally closed your eyes and just slept. Being reborn, waking up from what felt like the best sleep of your life, was much far worse. Especially when it felt like you woke up in hell.

It was wrong. Something was wrong. Kamala Khan felt if there was one thing she had, it was a pretty good gut feeling. It wasn’t no spider sense like Miles had, but it very rarely led her wrong.

“And that concludes our tour.” Celeste smiled.

Kamala blinked. Hadn’t there been five of them? She… No, that wasn’t right. They left, after Celeste offered to do the tour alone. The others were rather rude and candid with their words. Not Celeste, she was the nice one.

“I have to say, you give a pretty good tour,” Kamala smiled— although, her own felt just slightly off. But why? It had been a good tour hadn’t it? She’d felt like she knew a lot more about the island now. Knew where everyone and thing was, she supposed she wasn’t sure where she fit in, maybe?

“Why thank you, Kamala.” Celeste said. Kamala hung on her smile. She knew a lot about the X-men, if there was ever a group she wanted to team-up more with it was them, don’t tell the Avengers. She knew a bit about the Cuckoos, since their relation to Emma Frost made them a hot topic.

“Would you like to go for some coffee?” Kamala said before she’d even actually thought it. “I think I’d like to get to know you some more.”

“Yourself,” Celeste told her.

“Hm?”

“We’re going to let you get to know yourself better, Kamala.”

“I…” Kamala inhaled, and then exhaled. “I think I know myself pretty well honestly,” Kamala did a sort of nervous chuckle, although the nervousness confused Kamala herself when she was in the company of a friend. “Still, I guess a fresh perspective could help.”

“You know, a lot of people think that, but it's never really true. You were an inhuman before this, and a normal person before that. It must have been jarring for you, Kamala.”

Jarring? Maybe, not as jarring as how quickly they had made it to this coffee shop. It was… Kamala grunted.

“Something wrong?”

“No, just a small headache.” She smiled. She didn’t want to trouble Celeste.

“Post-resurrection side-effects. Bringing back the dead isn't without its trouble. All the more to have some coffee, no?” Celeste was as helpful as ever. 

Kamala nodded her head and then thought back to what Celeste said about her changes in life. “Honestly I think that it was a little scary at first— but more than anything else it was exciting to become an inhuman.” Kamala smiled as she reminisced. It had been a couple of years since then, but the experience of having actual superpowers had been amazing. “From the start I knew I wanted to help people with them, you know? I felt like it was a privilege and a responsibility. One I was happy to have then, and I’m happy to have now.” 

Plus punching bad guys was so satisfying. Kamala watched Celeste curiously. “I guess that must be different for you guys- you were born with your powers right?”

“Not exactly, no.” Celeste said. She stood, and then moved over to what Kamala assumed was a barista stand. 

It reminded her of the machines she usually saw in Coffee Shops, but these were… greener? They really committed to the plant bit.

“Mutants are born with the x-gene, it's something we inherit from our parents, or cloned from in some special cases. Usually, they trigger around puberty, but they activate earlier and earlier with the new generation. Especially those born from mutant parents. Kamala, have you ever considered people to be like coffee beans?”

“I… I can’t say I really have…” Kamala blinked a little, not sure where this was going. “I guess they both… yeah I got nothing.”

Celeste hummed. It was melodic, soft and ticklish at the back of her head. Just like her voice. Kamala sat up straight. It was important to understand the perspective of others. To be free of judgement and ridicule. An open mind was a kind mind, and a kind mind was a happy mind.

“A… open mind.” Kamala said, though she hadn’t noticed it.

Coffee beans aren’t much on their own, aren’t they? They’ve barely scratched the surface of their potential. They’re true nature is hidden behind the flesh of the berry and subdued in their virgin nature, uncooked if you will.

Even before she got her powers, sometimes Kamala felt like she would shrink. In the likes of school, she always kept her head down, feeling out of place around other people. The ones not like Bruno and Nakia, they understood her. Other people didn’t, not really. She had to be closed, never able to really say what she wanted to, to really embrace her passions.

When the beans are roasted, they change. Appearance, aroma, texture, everything is different and for the better.

She’d never forget that first moment, after emerging from her cocoon. The vision that told her to be careful what she wished for- yet after getting that wish she’d never been happier. Hero, Avenger, Champion. Finally able to be herself for the first time, to meet people and be in situations she’d only ever dreamed of. Being Ms Marvel had been the best times of her life.

But that isn’t the end of it. The beans still aren’t able to reach their grand potential, even with that. Next, they have to be ground. It's a bit sad isn’t it? The beans have to go through such rough trials, but they come out better in the end, don’t they? They return perfect.

Pain. It shirred right through her. She’d been beaten bad before, fought monsters and tyrants, but that didn’t hurt as badly. Those were bruises, she could come back from bruises. This was… She did good, right? Saving someone even at the cost of your life, was always good. 

But after all of that, then the coffee could be made.

Kamala watched Celeste pack the ground beans into the dispenser, before she slotted it into the machine. Two cups sat next to one another. As hot water flowed through the machine, coffee filled the cups.

Two cups were soon placed on the table. One for her. The other for Celeste.

“But that isn’t everything is it? Coffee is painfully dull and bitter on its own, isn’t it?”

“I- Well yeah, I mean those are those people that like black coffee but- bleh.” Kamala never really got the love for bitter coffee. She liked hers with…

“Milk, sugar, cream and a personal favourite of mine, nutmeg.” Celeste tapped each with a pointed nail, each one seeming significant in one way or the other.

“...nutmeg really?”

“I’d hope you’d have an open mind to it, Kamala, but I understand your apprehension. Should we start with the basics? Sugar.”

“Sure,” Kamala agreed readily- although feeling just slightly guilty for just dismissing Celeste’s favourite like that. An open mind was a kind mind, and a kind mind was a happy mind after all.

Celeste smiled. Kamala didn’t know why, but she felt like smiling too. 

The blonde’s delicate fingers wrapped around the small ceramic spoon in the jar of sugar. She brought a steady spoonful of it to her cup.

“There is a personal preference for each person. How much sugar do you think is satisfactory, Kamala?”

One spoon.

Kamala swallowed. She felt a hand on her hand. Fingers interlocked with hers. Soft, delicate, fine, warm…

Two spoons.

Kamala exhaled. She felt the hand on her thigh. A light caress. It sent a shiver down her spine. It teased moving further.

“I—”

Three spoons.

Close too close. They were too close, their lips were threatening one another with every breath. Dancing around the question.

Four spo—

Hot. It was hot. Kamala was scalding. She pulled back, but found herself bolted in the seat. She was…

“Something wrong, Kamala?”

“No… I just. You— Sorry. Post-resurrection side-effects right?” Kamala feebly chuckled.

“Would you like more sugar?”

Kamala breathed shakily. “Y-yes, thank you.”

Four spoons.

The dance is over. Their lips are no longer threatening, they made their move. It's soft, tender and perfect. A soft moan escaped Kamala’s lips. Sugar was quintessential, you couldn’t do without it.

“I think that’s enough.” Celeste said. She stirred the cup. The spoon clinked inside it, the sugar dissolved slowly.

“Bruno used to say I had more sugar than coffee,” Kamala joked a little, feeling… at ease.  

“And do you think that’s a bad thing? It is to your liking right, Kamala?”

One spoon was only a small taste. Two spoons were better, but not enough. Three spoons were a taste away from perfection and four spoons were all she needed.

“I love sugar, I couldn't do without it.” Kamala said with a conviction that surprised herself.

“I quite agree.” Celeste told her. “Will you have anything else? Milk, or cream?”

“Sure- might as well get all the classics- maybe even try some nutmeg if you make a good enough case,” Kamala smiled good naturedly. 

“I don’t think I have to.” Celeste lightly rapped her fingers against the table.

“Someone’s feeling confident, milk first?” 

“Of course, Kamala, whatever you want. This is your choice.”

She nodded, yeah. This was her choice. She wanted milk.

Celeste picked it up, the small jug of warm milk, and brought it over to her cup. With a notch in Kamala’s direction. A steady stream of milky white poured into her cup, the colour of her coffee changing, slowly, but surely. It… That was fine. Things needed to change to be better.

Kamala’s life flashed before her eyes. She was growing, something filling her lungs, burning them. She saw a light, she swam towards it. Her hand hit a wall, they seeped into it, and found it to be softer than expected, she tore through it. She found the light. She was born again.

“Hey, there Kamala, long time no see.” Scott smiled. He wasn’t the only one around, but the one she knew best, a Champion like her.

“And Mutant, dear.” came the voice of someone she thought she’d never meet. Emma Frost. “Champion and mutant, Ms. Khan. Which is what you are now, welcome to the family.”

Change was part of life after all, and it made her life better when she became Ms Marvel. It was a change to go from fangirl to hero, from solo hero to part of a group… 

“Kamala Khan died? Send some flowers perhaps,” Queen Medusa sat on her throne, uncaring. “Wait, you’re here?”

“Y- yes?”

“I thought you were a mutant now- better that way honestly.” Queen Medusa mused as a different person took her place.

Emma Frost tapped her boots together. “How often have you heard from the Inhumans anyway? How often have they impacted your life? Why darling, while the Inhumans are moping, we’re changing the world. Isn’t it time you did as well?”

She extended her hand, Kamala took it.

From Inhuman to Mutant. 

Things changed to get better.

“I think I much prefer the lighter colour, we get after we add milk, don’t you?”

“I guess so,” Kamala looked into her cup, why it was almost the colour of her skin, it was almost like she was. But it seemed to be missing something still…

“You know, a lot of people often think of cream and milk as the same, but cream is different. It's richer, thicker, more flavorful than milk. It's far more robust, but perhaps for some, it can be a bit much. Would you like some cream Kamala?”

“Of course, I’d love some.” 

“Good girl.”

That sent a jolt down her spine. Celeste poured her some cream.

I am Ororo Munroe and I am a mutant. I have no shame in who I am. For I am beautiful. The wind graces my naked flesh and I in turn embrace it. There is freedom at every step that I take. One can never let themselves be chained. That is when we lose everything. Do you feel it? The skies call, it is time to fly, will you?

I am Jean Grey and I am a mutant. I do not fear who I am. I am powerful. I am glorious. A fire burns within me. It is fierce, vibrant and beautiful. I am not a furnace of enclosed fire to be used. I am a free flowing flame, and I will burn. Won’t you smoulder beautifully with me?

I am Anna Marie and I am a mutant. I embrace who I am. I am dangerous, my touch could drain the life from all but the strongest. Yet, my strongest touch is not in my powers, but in my hands that can drain a different life, something that makes me more dangerous to those that threaten me. But it makes me more loved by those that know me. Won’t you hold my hand Sugah?

I am Laura Kinney and I am Wolverine. A mutant. The best there is. I don’t think any differently, not anymore. I earned this. I am strong, but that didn’t mean anything before I knew who I was. Who the hell are you?

I am Celeste and I am a copy, one of five, but I am a mutant. I know who I am. I do not doubt it. I never have. It is foolish to question who you are and what you want, when it's clear as day. The only veils in our minds are the ones we make. It's time to pull away the curtain, Kamala, don’t you agree?

I am Kamala Khan and I am a mutant. I have no shame in who I am, I am powerful and I embrace it. What lies before me is dangerous, yet I have no doubt about myself. I stand on the edge of a great change that scares and excites me in equal measure, yet need help to overcome a final step, to help me be the best there is. Won’t you help me Celeste?

It was a beautiful smile. The one that came across Celeste’s face. It reminded Kamala of when her mother would look at her with unadulterated pride.

“You know, some people would think adding both cream and milk to be redundant, even excessive. What do you believe, Kamala?”

“I don’t think that you can have a better combination in a cup of coffee- sure people can have them separately, but I think they’re better together.” Kamala said as the cream stopped pouring, her cup of coffee looked perfect , like drinking it would be drinking paradise . Yet… “So, is Nutmeg really that good?”

“Yes, Kamala, it is. My sisters and I had to take something from you, Kamala. Something you weren’t ready for. But I think you are now, well not quite, but close enough that I am eager to give it back. Would you like it, back Kamala?”

“I think I would Celeste,” Kamala found herself licking her lips in anticipation. As if she’d somehow known that she was missing something. 

Celeste held the rasp grater over Kamala’s coffee. Steam still softly danced above it. Slowly, it felt like an eternity, she grated nutmeg into her drink. The bits of it landed on top. Raining down, like cool rain on a hot summer day. Perfect.

Celeste stirred her drink for her.

Roasted beans. Cream. Sugar. Milk. Nutmeg. It all blended so well, into a perfect cup. Like how the people of Krakoa blended well. Unity. Chamedrie. Trust. Those were the foundations of Krakoa. She was a part of that now. She was a mutant. She was perfect.

“Please, Kamala. Drink.” Celeste said.

Her heart seemed to both stop and kept pounding even harder in her chest as Celeste gently held the drink up to her mouth, putting it up to her lips but leaving it to Kamala to take the plunge. 

Her lips wrapped around the coffee’s edge, the warm, soothing liquid going right past them and down her throat, an amazing sensation. Something that made Kamala herself feel a little dizzy— but absolutely blown away. 

A low sensual moan escaped Kamala’s lips as she downed every last drop of it. Kamala remembered everything.

♦

Kamala woke up in a bed that definitely wasn’t hers. The sheets were soft, silken and amazingly out of this world. She wanted to be here forever.

“By all means, stay comfortable.”

Kamala lifted her head up, it was a struggle to, her body refused to leave the comfort. “You… You and your sisters, you’ve been using your powers on me.”

“Yes, we have, do you mind if I undress, it's been rather stuffy today?” Celeste asked.

“No, I, why would you…” Kamala’s toes curled and her heart drummed loudly in her chest. “I…”

“I do hope you would keep an open mind about this, Kamala.”

“I, yes, of course. I… don’t mind it. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Celeste had not moved from Kamala’s line of sight, now she disrobed in front of her. Her pale and pristine shoulders peeked out from her clothing once the cape was gone. Slowly, the robes? Dress? Her clothes came off her. Kamala didn’t avert her eyes. It… An open mind was a kind mind, and a kind mind was a happy mind. Whatever made her comfortable.

Kamala’s gut twisted with discomfort.

Kamala closed her eyes for a few moments as her brow furrowed- why did she want to watch someone getting undressed? It couldn’t have been more than a few moments, yet when they opened again Celeste was completely naked.

“S-stop it.” Kamala said through grit teeth.

Celeste blinked, uncaringly. “Stop, what?”

“You, you… Please. I… can’t think. My mind feels like it's on fire.”

Her eyes couldn’t help but follow every curve, couldn’t help but stare unblinkingly as she stared at what could only be the prettiest woman she’d ever seen undressed before her. Silky, blonde hair that hid behind them small, adorable ears. Glowing, pristine, soft, pale skin. A perfect smile. Tender, soft lips… Perky, cute, breasts…Beautifully trimmed… Kamala swallowed Every time she tried to look away, it felt like a gentle and chiding hand made her look again. 

“Now, now, doesn’t it feel good to look?” Celeste’s words seemed to wash over her like a wave over a calm beach. 

“I- I don’t want to…” Kamala stared. She couldn’t do anything but. Her body groaned at the thought of leaving the bed’s sheet and her eyes protested looking away, even blinking felt like torture. She didn’t want to look, yet she couldn’t stop. “I want to…” Wanted to what? To stare? To be let go? For there to be more? 

“Kamala, breath. Tell me, who are you?” Celeste said, gently. She took a seat on the bed. Kamala felt as her weight pressed slightly on the mattress indenting it. Her breath was caught in her throat. 

A dozen answers to that question formed at her lips. She was so many people at once, yet in the moment only one came to her lips. 

“Kamala Khan and I’m— a Mutant.” The words came unbidden, yet felt so right on her coming out of her. More than that, she breathed. Slow deep and calming breaths to match Celeste’s, that managed to lower her heart rate and water down the forest fire in her head. “Why are you doing this?”

“Are you ashamed of that Kamala?” Celeste asked her. “Being a mutant?”

“Of course not!” Indignation flared up inside her.

Celeste, finally , laid next to her. Kamala let out a breath. She could smell her from where she laid. Something oceanic and floral. Kamala shuddered when she felt Celeste’s fingers interlocked with hers.

One Spoon.

“Then don’t be ashamed of what you saw, of what you are feeling, Kamala. This is part of being a mutant.”

“What is? Being…” Kamala, ever the modest nineteen year old, struggled to find the right word to say. 

“Mutants are a growing species, Kamala. What you feel is instinctive, necessary. Something to cherish. It means we’re alive.” Celeste’s fingers broke away from hers.

Kamala’s lips parted to speak, but folded back to fight back a moan when Celeste’s hand grasped her thigh.

Two spoons.

It was a strange feeling, a wonderful feeling that from just a touch she could suddenly feel so excited and even a little greedy, the unbidden wish for Celeste’s hand to be on her flesh rather than her costume, for her lips on hers, for more sugar… 

“Are you feeling stuffy, Kamala?”

“N- no- yes , no…. Please stop, I want to—”

“You just have to want it. No need to answer.” Celeste told her. The hand teased exploring further.

But did she want it?

One spoon was only a small taste. Two spoons were better, but not enough. Three spoons were a taste away from perfection and four spoons were all she needed.

The disappearance of her costume was an answer onto itself. “Third… I want…”

Celeste turned on her side. Kamala found herself doing the same. They both laid face to face, lips inches from one another. Kamala felt Celeste’s breath tickle her.

Three spoons.

“It is instinct, Kamala. As I said, we're a growing species. That desire, that lust is perfectly normal for a mutant. It's a part of it. Don’t be ashamed of it.” Celeste reached out and stroked Kamala’s hair.

She leaned forward and kissed her. It was electric.

Four spoons.

She remembered once that Viv had looked at Kamala one day by the campfire after an experimental kiss, with Hulk, that had left her wanting. She remembered wanting to be the Hulk in that moment, but chickening out when Vivan Vision expressed the desire to kiss her. 

She regretted that, moreso now as she finally kissed a girl.

“Would you like some more sugar, Kamala?” Celeste asked her softly, after they broke their kiss.

Her name was Kamala Khan, and she was a mutant. She was uncertain of herself, anxious, not knowing what to say next except for the only right answer, and it was the right answer wasn’t it? 

“Yes, I would.”

“Good girl.” Celeste smiled. The woman’s hands landed on Kamala’s hips; they kissed again. Celeste bit Kamala’s lips, pulling on the bottom ones playfully.

Kamala was tugged closer into Celeste, hugging her, their naked bodies meeting in the most intimate moment she’d ever had. Celeste’s leg went between Kamala’s own legs. She felt it brush against her…

“That's fine. As long as you ask for it, I will do it. Just say yes, Kamala.”

“I…Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Kamala felt her fears squashed, like a baddie beneath her embiggened hands. She panted, she moved slightly, feeling Celeste’s legs rubbing against her…her…

“Go on. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. What am I playing with, Kamala.”

The new mutant’s eyes rolled back. “My pussy.”

“Good girl.”

Kamala tried to say something, but only a dumb moan came out. She ground against Celeste’s leg harder. The want growing, the need becoming desperation. She felt herself getting… wetter . Felt her moans grow louder, her breath hotter, all those hesitations she had melting away in this moment.

Her nails dug into Celeste’s back. She felt them sink in deeply. Kamala felt like a beast.

“Ssh, don’t worry. You aren’t hurting me. That’s it, keep enjoying it.”Celeste cooed softly, stroking Kamala’s hair. “Good girl.”

Every time those two words were spoken, Kamala felt a wave of pleasure shooting up her spine and down her throbbing pussy. So badly she felt the desire for release, felt like she was desperate not just for release, but for approval. Affirmation that what she was feeling was right, that she was right for wanting nothing more than this in these moments. 

“That’s it, keep going. This is what you want, isn’t it Kamala?” Celeste tucked Kamala’s head into her breasts, she gave a muffled moan.

Kamala couldn’t imagine how badly she had messed Celeste’s leg and the bed’s sheet, but she found herself caring less and less.

This was what she wanted. No it wasn’t. Yes it was. No it wasn’t. Yes it was. No it wasn’t. Yes it was.

“Good girl, you’re close aren’t you? You feel that itch being scratched, but the satisfaction doesn’t quite make it until you’ve given it your all, relentlessly scratching and scratching, go on Kamala, don’t deny yourself. You are a mutant. This is your nature. You are free, unbridled. No one will judge you here, because Krakoa is a Paradise. ”

“K- Krakoa is a-” Kamala didn’t finish the sentence as she came hard . It felt unlike any she had before, not like those times that she’d done so alone in the bathroom with porn playing softly on her phone, instead this felt more like… like…

“That’s my good girl. You did beautifully.” Celeste held her trembling body and softly stroked her hair.

Krakoa was a paradise.

♦

Celeste leaned back and sighed with satisfaction. Her sister, Phoebe, handed her a towel. Celeste wiped the sweat from her forehead.

“I will never understand how you get off to that.” Sophie said, her arms folded over her chest.

“That’s because you're uncouth and don’t understand the beauty of it.” Celeste told her sister.

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Mm-hmm.”

All five pairs of eyes landed on Kamala’s unconscious body. She had made quite the mess of herself. Sophie’s lips curled into a smile.

Esme cleared her throat. “I’m next,” she said.

Sophie let out a disgruntled groan. Yes, they drew psychic lots for it, but the other four cheated, they always cheated. She did too, but she still lost.

“Hey, what are you guys up to? Oh! Is that Ms. Marvel, no way is she a mutant now?! Woo! What’s wro—”

“ Leave Swine. ” The five-in-one led away the distraction, the mindless wandered away from them.

“Who was that?”

“Gwen-something. Quentin’s ex.”

“He would date, something like that.”

♦

As Kamala laid in the bed, breathing heavily and quietly thinking, she looked over to Celeste who seemed to have the world’s most satisfied expression on her face. Something in her hoped that was the case.

“I…” Kamala started to speak, but couldn’t find the words to express them as she felt the whirlwind of feelings go through her. “I’ve asked you before, but you didn’t answer properly. Why are you doing this to me?”

Celeste smiled. “Nothing you don’t want me to, Kamala.” The blonde took her by the chin. “Everyone needs a little push, but you barely warranted a shove.”

“That’s—”

“Good luck Kamala, you’ll need it. Believe it or not, I’m the nice one.” Celeste cupped Kamala’s face and gave her a final kiss on the lips before getting up and leaving. 

When Celeste left and Kamala laid there, she felt something deep in her chest, a feeling- but the worst part was that she couldn't tell what it was. Longing? Lust? Disgust? Anger? Sadness? Fear? Excitement? She couldn't tell.

Then, came a knock on the door.

Chapter Text

Kamala’s eyes shot open as her alarm blared. Her head throbbing slightly. Dizziness and a bout of sickness hit her in waves; despite that the motions came to her. It was hard not to go through her routine, she’d done so for the past… she had been in service for as long as she could remember.

Yes… Kamala had served for as long as she could remember.

Yesterday flooded into her as she made a motion towards the alarm clock. The day before, she had been kindly treated to coffee by a member of the house. She was grateful, she did not take many breaks as there was much to do and very little time to waste. Diligence was her mantra and obedience was her law.

The covers pulled away from her as she got out of bed. Her feet shuffled to the bathroom, the pipes turned on and warm water rained on to her. Her morning ritual came like a survival instinct. The warm water pelted against her back. She leaned forward, her left hand bracing the wet wall, while her right hand’s finger slid between the lips of her… Pussy .

Her pussy. Her cunt. Her wet, wanting snatch. Desperate and wanting, Kamala had no control over her budding desires. She was a mutant. Mutants were creatures of affection. They were built to grow and thrive. Fertile and abundant like the land they lived, Krakoa. Their para…

“Stop it.” Kamala grunted. “Stop.. get out of my…” A sharp moan of pain came from her lips. Kamal tensed briefly and then relaxed.

She stared blankly into the tiled wall before her, water continued to pelt down on her. Five minutes later, wordlessly, Kamala exited the shower.

Out of the shower, she dried herself off before moving silently as befitting of her station as she went to get dressed in… in… Her Uniform, laying in wait in her closet, begging to be put on.

Ah, that was right. Her uniform. How silly of her to forget. What would she be without her uniform? The symbol of her station and devotion to the path meant for her.

Kamala would never deny the thrill that came with dressing. Some days she wondered if she’d warrant a second shower with how heated she became as she slipped on her underwear. Lacey black panties. Lace suspender fishnet pantyhose decorated in beautiful floral patterns. She ran her fingers over the fabric, then clipped on her matching bra. Kamala looked at herself in the mirror, stunned that it was her. She was breathtaking. Sexy. It…was beautiful.

Kamala closed her eyes and sat quietly. She breathed softly. She inhaled and then exhaled. Her eyes fluttered open and she finished dressing.

Everything else came as easy as before.. Her dress slipped on perfectly. The gorgeous mixture of black and white, symbolic colours of her station, gave her a sense of pride. She slipped on the long, arm-length white gloves, painted her lips in vibrant, red lipstick and then approached the mirror to look at herself. She patted gently at the ends of her dress, it just barely made it to her knees. Kamala nodded. She looked as a maid should.

But she… wasn’t a maid. She was Kamala Khan. A person, and certainly not anyone’s servant she had to… to… She should go make breakfast. They would be expecting it. The ladies of the house. It would be improper of her not to do the bare minimum of what was required of her.

Wordlessly, she left her room and ran down her duties for the day- of course the first and most urgent being breakfast. The most important meal of the day after all. Seven meals in total, including that of herself. 

She wouldn’t have much for herself, just some coffee, freshly roasted beans, cream, sugar, milk, nutmeg , and then perhaps a slice or two of toast, with a bit of jam slathered on it, or even honey instead, if she had felt in a particular need for something much sweeter.

Kamala almost broke out in hives when she entered the kitchen. Her face went red with embarrassment as her eyes went wide. She bowed.

“Mistress Esme, good morning.”

Kamala’s gut twisted at the sight of the young woman. Surely from her shame. What servant woke up after their Mistress did?

Kamala cringed at the sight of the steaming coffee cup. The fragrant scent of perfectly roasted beans reached her nose. Kamala lulled where she stood. She inhaled deeply, savouring the scent of fresh coffee. She liked her with four spoons of sugar.

One spoon was only a small taste. Two spoons were better, but not enough. Three spoons were a taste away from perfection and four spoons were all she needed.

“Good morning, Kamala.”

The melodic voice of one of her Mistresses snapped the maid from her stupor. She rushed forward. “Please, let me set the table so you can enjoy the morning.”

“No need, I’ll only have the cup.”

“No, that won’t do Mistress. You shouldn’t be serving yourself, never. That is my job.”

“To?”

“To serve. To serve you and your house. To be there when I am needed. To ensure that all that is expected of me is done.”

“And what is expected of you?”

“Diligence. Proficiency. Eloquence and.. Obe…” Kamal grunted. “Stop… it… Please, my head… its on…fi—”

Her Mistress, Lady Esme. The fairest of the five, the successor, the beauty hidden behind four identical—

♦

“Tone it down, her brain is very much on fire.” Celeste frowned. “Also is all of that necessary?”

“I didn’t stop you, did I?” Esme rolled her eyes and checked her nails.

“You didn’t have to, I’m subtle. Perfect in my groundwork.”

“And utterly boring.”

“Can I add something?” Mindee asked.

“No,” both Esme and Celeste said. “Wait your turn.” 

♦

“Kamala, breath.” 

Kamala shuddered. She felt her Mistress lift her chin upward and their eyes met. It felt disrespectful for some like her, someone so low, to gaze on something so beautiful.

“What is expected of you?”

“Diligence. Proficiency. Eloquence and Obedience.” Kamala exhaled and then inhaled again. The confusion that had brewed dissipated calmly.

She stood straight, linked her fingers together and prostrated appropriately before a Lady of the house.

“Please forgive my tardiness this morning. It was unbecoming of me to do so.”

“Don’t worry about it, Kamala, you’ve served us very well all these years, you're allowed some off days.”

“No.” Kamala said vehemently. “Apologies for my firmness Mistress, but I maid, a servant should not be offered slack, because it is their responsibility— Purpose, to serve and to be diligent while doing so I should never have… have…”

Kamala staggered back.

“I’m not pushing too hard, she can handle it.” Esme clicked her tongue.

Kamala thought’s swam. Who was she talking to? Who was she? What was she doing? What was going on? Where was she? She was… She was Kamala Khan! And she need to—

….

….

….

Kamala bowed her head in deference. “Of course Mistress, and a good morning Mistress, did you sleep well?” Kamala shunted her shame for awakening later than her Mistress and instead opted to ensure that it never happened again and that if anything else, the morning would not be soured by her inability.

“I did, yes.” Lady Esme hummed. “And I’m looking forward to breakfast. You know what I want of course.” 

Yes… she knew what everyone wanted for breakfast.

It would have been disgusting to think that any one of the glorious women living in the estate would dine on anything else but the finest foods. Lady Emma, the High Lady of the household, had an assorted bowl of fruit. Handpicked and grown on the soil of Krakoa itself. That was to start. Kamala blended her fresh green juice and set that along with Omelette Du Fromage. If something else was to be served, then she would be notified ahead of time.

Mistress Celeste always enjoyed a fine coffee and bacon combination, something she claimed would wake her up better than anything else around. If she was willing she’d have some eggs and toast with her meal. Kamala felt her heart skip anytime she asked for more. 

Mistress Esme loved eggs, scrambled and certainly not overcooked, and then finished with a side of toast. Lady Esme  always had kind words for Kamala for her cooking. It was a bit embarrassing but she had a bit of deep admiration for Lady Esme. No— She was not embarrassed. She was reverent. Blessed that someone like her Lady and Mistress would be so kind as to grace her with her presence. So kind, so amazing, so beautiful, so-

♦

“Just masturbate in front of a mirror, why don’t you.” Sophie said.

“Are you serious right now? Can I not enjoy something without you four bumbling mo—”

♦

Mistress Mindee always wanted specially milked—

“No, absolutely fucking not.” Esme crossed her arms. 

“In fact all of you out! I’ll strangle each and every one of you if I have to. Shut the fuck up. Keep your lips shut and keep your thoughts to yourself. Not one of you will ruin this for me. DO. WE. UNDERSTAND?”

Kamala blinked. Who was Lady Esme talking to—

Kamala went blank.

“Now I’m messing up perspective.” Esme dropped to a squat and groaned. She massaged her temples and deeply exhaled through her nostrils. “Okay, let’s start again.”

—What the others wanted was of little importance, given they were all on a business trip. While Kamala’s heart ached not to serve them, she couldn’t help but be elated at the fact she could focus on Lady Esme.

Kamala went about making her Mistress’ meal, and felt contentment spreading through her. A soft smile formed on her lips as she knew her hard work would pay off, that her Mistress would be satisfied with what she’d made, that they would be proud of her much like she was proud to help. To be devoted and obedient.

She’d always liked to help hadn’t she? Even before being their dutiful maid, back when she’d had some other silly dream she’d long forgotten, it had something to do with helping people. It was something she’d always been happy and proud to do, to make others happy by doing what was asked of her. Truly there was no greater pleasure than seeing a smile on her Mistress’ face after doing whatever they told her to do. 

No greater pleasure than a smile on her Mistress's face. Kamala cooked with confidence. She’d argue that it would have been the best meal she’d ever make, but her Mistress required dutiful perfection above all, so it went without saying that tomorrow’s breakfast had to top the one she made now.

It was what a dutiful maid was meant to do.

“Breakfast will be ready shortly, I will deliver it to you at the dining table.” Kamala informed her Mistress. 

“Excellent, good girl.” Lady Esme smiled, and Kamala felt herself shiver, a wave of pleasure wracking through her body…

♦

Breakfast had been done in what felt like small, fleeting seconds. Kamala had lost herself entirely while cooking and yet, it hasn't felt like long enough. It never felt like enough did it? Kamala found herself insatiable. Hot. Wanting. A need tickled her stomach like butterflies and there was a temptation gnawing at her. Her fingers twitched and flexed out, before curling back in. What was it she wanted to do?

Stupid question.

Kamala exhaled sharply and kept her eyes closed, images surfacing in her mind. She found herself laid on the bed, wanting, needing, craving. She panted softly and the vision became clear she saw…

“Kamala?”

“Yes!” She jolted up where she stood and turned to her Mistress, a brief wooze hitting her.

“Breakfast was wonderful.”

Kamala blinked, had it been so long already? She had only closed her eyes for what felt like seconds. Lady Esme couldn’t have eaten that fast, she was a graceful and beautiful woman, something so uncouth would never be done by her hands. So she had truly zoned out for that long? How shameful.

“Thank you, my Lady.” Kamala said, softly.

Lady Esme excused herself, having much more important things to do than being in her presence.

Kamala took to her other duties… Such as… Er … Cleaning.

Yes, she had to clean the rooms of her Ladies. Even if they were gone, she’d be worthless to have made their splendid personal rooms collect dust.

Lady Esme’s room was the furthest of them all, by all right, Kamala should have worked her way down, she walked down to the end of the hall. Her footsteps felt heavy, a lump formed in her throat. What was she doing?

She told herself it made sense to work up rather than down and her mind accepted the flimsy excuse. She cracked open the room door and shudders. Her nostrils flared. The scent of a Goddess filled them and caressed them.

“Fuck,” Kamala groaned. She covered her mouth and looked around. She tensed. Profanity? She had used profanity? Her gut twist with disgust, how unmaidenly of her!

Kamala had to take a breath which was an instant bad idea, as she got nothing but  Lady Esme. Kamala made a sound that she thought you’d only hear from a rabid animal. She sauntered forward and landed in Lady Esme’s bed. She twisted the sheets into her palms and then inhaled deeply, almost snorting at them.

“Fuck.” She cursed.

Something about it all felt so wrong and that made it feel so, fucking right. God, Kamala was liking that word. Fuck

Terror struck Kamala when she heard someone clearing their throat, behind..

Her instinct was to shoot up, but she had fallen back down into the sheets and tangled herself. A weight pressed down next to her as someone sat down.

“Are these your true colours?”

“My-I, I do—”

“Be quiet. My family has treated you well, Kamala.”

“I know. I’m sorry I did—”

“Are you dense? I said to be silent.”

Kamala felt like her mouth was sewn shut at that moment. Felt almost inhumanly still, barely even breathing as the Lady Esme harshly grabbed her face, forcing Kamala to look her into the eyes.

“Have we been too generous? Is that it?” Lady Esme growled a little. “Allowed you to get greedy. To use us for your perverted fantasies.” She moved Kamala’s head side to side a little as if inspecting. “I think you need to be re-educated, don’t you? Nod.”

Kamala could only nod an affirmative with wide eyes, heart pounding as she was made to sit, legs spread seemingly of their own will. 

“Now. Masturbate.” 

“E- excuse me?” Kamala wasn’t sure she heard her right. 

Lady Esme pressed her finger against the young woman’s forehead. “You’re quite dense aren’t you? I told you to be silent and you keep talking. I tell you to masturbate and your fingers haven’t made their way to that wet cunt of yours. Look at you, forcing me to speak so improperly. You're just an incorrigible mutant slut aren’t you? Go on, my sheets are in your face, continue.”

Kamala opened her mouth to apologise— but then shut her mouth. There was nothing else for it as under that watchful gaze her fingers went down and pulled up her dress. She touched her soaked panties. Touching them and giving a moan as she started to rub herself through them. Yet for the pleasure it provided it seemed…

Lesser. 

Minute.

Painfully fleeting.

Like it wasn’t nearly as good as it could have been. Should have been. So with a glance at the unflinching stare of her Lady, Kamala ditched the panties to fully show off as she rubbed her cunt directly. 

“How loathsome to show off without permission.” Lady Esme tutted, and then glared harder as Kamala moved to pull her panties back up. “Did I say to stop? Continue. You’ve made your bed, now lay in it. Show me your true nature.”

Her true nature? Kamala struggled with the thought. Garbled responses were thrown back and forth in her mind. She’d have pleaded insanity on one account of identity crisis with all the noise in her head. Even then, her body knew and acted. Her hands spread the lips of her pussy, her cunt. Fuck she loved saying that. It was such a dirty word, cunt. Her finger pushed into her cunt. Her dripping, wet and needy cunt. Her slutty mutant cunt. A shiver ran down her spine. She felt it now, the pleasure, the embrace of lust. Her true self. Everything she knew she was. It was…

Kamala whined. She panted into the silk sheets in front of her and hissed with frustration. What was happening? Everything it was… stuck. The high came, she’d scaled the mountain, but nothing. There was nothing. She wanted to… Fuck.

She wanted to…

Oh god.

Please.

She needed it.

Without it she couldn’t…

Without…

Without what?

It was maddening, she seemed to get herself right to the edge and yet everytime it seemed she was about to truly let go, it seemed like it would drain away.  She slid up on the bed and disgracefully rubbed herself against the edge of it. She felt the softness of the sheets over her clit, and lips. She felt her wetness seep into them as she stained them with her lust. She raised her backside upward once, to push back down against the bed, and before long the motion became a consistent rhythm as she fought for that thing she couldn’t live without. The thing she needed so desperately, but couldn’t even recall. She wanted to… Fuck, she wanted too…

“Is there a problem?” Lady Esme seemed amused. “You're humping my bed like  a bitch in heat.”

Kamala shook her head and shamefully tucked her head downward, to miss the gaze of her Lady.

“Don’t lie to me, there is a problem isn’t there? Nod.” Lady Esme commanded and Kamala obeyed. “I thought as much, you’ve gotten too greedy perhaps, unable to cum on your own terms anymore.” She pursed her lips. “And now you’re making me do this.”

Kamala whimpered. Cum. That was the word that had been itching at her brain. The idea of release. She couldn’t imagine how it had escaped her for so long. Cum.

Her eyes rolled back, even the thought of it had her rubbing against the bed.

Lady Esme chuckled. “Look at you, rubbing and begging for me to take action. Aren’t you ashamed?”

Yes!

No!

She wanted to cum.

Lady Esme plunged her fingers deep into Kamala’s cunt aggressively, waves of pleasure came over Kamala as she began to moan, and scream with lust. She panted, tongue out like a mutt. Relieved whines came from her lips. She pushed back on the fingers, almost humping her Lady’s hand.

“Are you proud of yourself? Making me defile my precious fingers on your filthy, inferior pussy? Look at you, drenched. Your cunt is clutching so tightly around my fingers, I can barely move them.”  

No… She wasn’t, nor was she proud of her most unladylike screams that were altogether, too loud. It was undignified for a woman of her position, yet they felt so good… so very, very good. Yet, she was unable to finish, even with the help of her lady that she did not deserve, she still could not achieve any form of orgasm. 

“You enjoy this don’t you?” Lady Esme mused. “Enjoy this constant, agonising pleasure without release. Tell me, have you read the story of Sisyphus pushing the boulder up a hill?”

Kamala shook her head, curious underneath the pleasure about where she was going with this. 

“Well, as the story goes Sisyphus was punished by Hades in the afterlife for cheating death twice by forcing him to roll an immense boulder up a hill only for it to roll back down every time it neared the top, repeating this action for eternity.” Lady Esme showed off her knowledge. “Yet, this task, it gave him purpose didn’t it? Gave his afterlife a purpose forever. Pushing that boulder up a hill. One must imagine Sisyphus happy, shouldn’t they?” 

“You are Sisyphus. Pushing your boulder, edging your cunt like a good girl should. It makes you happy doesn’t it? The frustration is there, but even that is a part of it. Because it's proof you're alive. You cum and then it fades, the high disappears. Edge and you ride it. Edge, and my fingers never stop. They continue to dig into your cunt. Twist, plunging and scraping at those slutty insides of yours. Yet nothing comes. You want to ride that high forever, but you can’t or rather you don’t want to. You want to cum Kamala, I can feel it. It's a delicious thought. Infectious, even.” Lady Esme lips curled into a deep smile. “You can’t imagine how much I miss it. That desperation. That begging want. That cry for release. We made paradise, but it's been torture for me. No one savours the build, anymore. No one wants to walk the edge, or dance at the skirts of it. I’m hungry, Kamala, starved for little edge sluts like you. I love seeing you squirm and beg. Those innocent eyes looking at me, frightened, but wanting. You can’t fight it, or help it. Your lust is built to that peak and it wants out, to burst like a  dam.”

Lady Esme leaned in, her fingers danced at Kamala’s folds now, light tapping at her cunt. She whispered. “But if you do want release, I’m the only one who can give it to you. The only one that can help you cum . But I’ll only give you it if you give me one thing in return.”

Kamala’s breath hitched and heart seemed to stop as she waited to hear what it was. At this point, there seemed no price too high to pay.

“Your complete and utter submission .” The word seemed to wrap itself around her head, to brand itself on her very soul. “I need you to submit. Can you do that Kamala Khan? Are you willing to give every bit of yourself away for just a single orgasm?”

“I- I can-” Kamala was choking on her own pleasure. “I will submit, I—”

“Not yet.” Esme said. She straddled on top of Kamala. The woman sat on her stomach and Kamala could feel it. Her wetness. Her excited cunt. Kamala would say that she was wetter than she was.

Esme interlocked her fingers with Kamala and leaned down to meet her face to face, small inches between them. “I have you around my thumb, Kamala. We five can make anyone do anything we want, and there’s a charm in that. Believe me there is. When I ask you to say it, I want to hear you say it.”

Kamala would have described the grin on the woman’s face as demented. No… how could she think that about her Lady? Kamala shook her head. No… this woman wasn’t her Lady, her Mistress or even her friend. This woman was…

“You!” Kamala practically growled at her. “Get out of my head!” Her mind was on fire.

“Welcome back, Kamala.”

“You… your sisters. You made me. You're all sick!” Kamala felt tears well up in her eyelids. She felt so… She couldn’t describe what was going on. Something wound up inside her. She felt bursting with anger, confusion and fear, but more importantly she fought to suppress it.

Whatever they had done to her, whatever tickled up her spine as she found the woman’s grasp on her body and tried to break away and run. Kamal felt her breath hitch. One of Esme’s hands pulled away from the interlocking with hers, leaving Kamala with one hand free.

 Esme slid her fingers into her… Oh god.

“Stop it, I… please. I… let me go. I… Stop it.”

“I’m not doing anything, Kamala.” Esme said. “That’s all you. That built up lust and need. That desperation and itch, that’s every bit of you as what I feel is me. Don’t push your arousal on me, you slut.” Esme squeezed Kamala’s fingers with the one hand that still remained interlocked with them.

Kamala attempted to get up, her lower half lifted and fell back down. Her feet slid and attempted to push off the sheets of the bed, using her free hand as support. She squirmed and fought. This wasn’t her. They were making her like this. She wasn’t some kind of… slut.

Kamala's throat felt dry. The fight in her legs died down, and the less she fought the more she felt it. The itch, the need. God, she— Kamala whispered a prayer under breath, she tried to divert the thoughts, but all she could think about was the buzz. Cold air licked at her cunt and it made her squirm. She couldn’t fight the moan that escaped her lips. She couldn’t.

The sheets beneath her back were damp with sweat. She panted as though she’d run a marathon and the weakness in her limbs reminded her of her worst beatdowns.

“P-please.”

“Please, what?”

Kamala closed her eyes and a tear ran down her cheek.

“Please let me cum.” She begged, defeated.

“Good girl,” Esme’s fingers left her cunt, yet at the same time they felt like they were still inside. “A psychic trick. What I want you to do is make my bed, change the sheets you’ve ruined. Fix them despite the pleasure. Prove yourself to me.”

Kamala nodded, and got to work despite her cunt being on fire, feeling like it was being well and truly fucked. Felt like she was the main girl in a porn video as she fixed the sheets despite Esme not touching her. 

Changed them, fixed them, her own pleasure was unimportant, only her service - yet through service she received pleasure. Tears of… of… Well, she wasn’t sure if they were from pain, shame, pleasure or happiness. The first set was finished, then she moved towards the pillows. Changed the pillow covers. Kamala found herself moving with gusto after that. She had to hurry, be faster, she needed to get there as soon as possible. To be finished.

She acted with what was expected of her. 

Diligence. Proficiency. Eloquence. Obedience. Submission. 

And, to Kamala Khan’s shame, it felt… good . It felt amazing . Like her head was still on fire, but some of that fire was burning in a positive way…

She nearly stopped a few times, yet that desperation to finally push that boulder up the hill was too much to bear, the idea that she might finally get release, drove her forward. 

The pillows were finished, the bed almost fully made. She just needed to… she just needed… She just… Kamala’s leg quivered, she almost felt them buckle beneath her.

“Don’t stop now, not when you’re so very close,” Esme encouraged. “Be my good girl, gain more pleasure, don’t you enjoy this pleasure? Don’t you enjoy this submission and want to do it more?”

“No, I don’t…” Kamala protested, sounding weak to her own ears. “I just… I just…”

“Just what?” Esme tilted her head, like a cat that found a mouse. “Just what Slut? Finish the sentence.” 

“I just…” Kamala fell to her knees. She gripped the sheets of the bed and she… she yanked them off. Oh god, what was she doing?

“No, I won’t do it. I won’t do this to myself, I won’t fall here.”

Stop it.

“I won’t let you control me.”

Don’t fight, please. We want this. Please, please.

 “I-I…” Kamala’s words hitched in her throat, her voice trembled and her body shook. “I’m sorry… I’ll fix the bed immediately, just let me—”

“No,” Esme said coldly.

The world went dark. It was just her and Kamala. No bed, no manor, only darkness.

“You're a big, strong girl Kamala, you’ve proven that. You won’t let me control you, that's what you said right?”

“I—” Kamala hovered on her words. She had a choice. She had an honest to God choice. “I… No, I won’t let you control me.”

A soft sob came from her lips. She couldn’t tell you what for.

“Alright then.” Esme said, then she was gone.

And Kamala Khan was alone with her thoughts, just her and them taking a cold comfort in the fact she’d won this time. It was gone. The feeling they had forced on her. She felt cold, numb, lifeless, empty…

No, she won. She fought and she won. She had won, but now she sat alone, dreading and anticipating what would happen next…

♦

“She denied me.” Esme said. At first she sat there, processing it. Then she smiled, and then she began laughing. She couldn’t stop laughing, her gut went into stitches and sent pain through her and even then she couldn’t stop. She settled into a soft giggle, covering her mouth as she continued. “You’re really something aren’t you, Kamala Khan. Prey shouldn’t tease their hunters like that.”

Celeste walked over from the other bench she and the others had been sent to temporarily. She had a smirk of superiority on her face. “It sounds like someone bit off more than they could chew.”

Esme rolled her eyes. Insufferable twat . 

Not that she expected anything better from them. “Give it time, I’ll have her crawling back.”

“To me perhaps,” Celeste’s ego was the only thing bigger than her incompetence. 

“Hardly- besides, I was trying to provoke her like that. If I really wanted to, I would've turned her brain to mush.”

Mindee cleared her throat. “While you guys bicker, could I remind you that it's my turn?”

Both of them groaned. 

“Fine, but we’re setting ground rules for you.” They both said.

“I don’t see how that’s necessa—”

“You’re disgusting.” She heard the other two say from behind her.

“I—”

“Honestly, where did you even pick something like that up?”

“Well Hope can—”

“It's demeaning is what it is.”

“Insulting.”

“If you’d let me—”

“Did you just not cook long enough in the pod?”

“She always was the lesser sister.”

“Okay you gu—”

“I wouldn’t mind skipping her.”

“Wait—”

“We could vote and—”

“Shut up, already!” Mindee shouted. “None of you get to judge me, and you certainly don’t get to act like you’re better than me. I’m going to do what I want, and you know what. She’s going to cave for me. So fuck all of you.”

Mindee sat right next to Kamala’s body with a scowl on her face. And then closed her eyes.

“What did I say,” Sophie shook her head. “The lesser sister.”

Mindee merely raised her middle finger in her sister’s general directions. This was going to be so great, they’d see….

Then, moments later Kamala began screaming in terror, a few moments after that Mindee wiped away the memories forever and left Kamala’s mind, opening her eyes to see four sets of identical eyes all looking at her with smug ‘I told you so’ looks, Mindee sighed fully resigned. 

“Fine, I guess I can build up to that with something a little less intense.”

Chapter Text

Kamala’s eyes shot open. She woke up first, she always woke up first. Waking up first was the thing she did! She was the waker, the waking, the.. Uh, well she wasn’t quite sure, but that didn’t actually matter. She launched, oh boy she flew, higher than last time too, it had to be. She wanted to go again, go even higher, she was already excited about tomorrow too!

Like always when she landed she got a grunt. She wasn’t mad, she couldn’t be at Kamala, she was adorable. Kamala Khan was the greatest puppy there was and her owner would never get mad at her, she was cute as a button don’t you know?  

Kamala had an excited grin on her face, her hands— paws patted at her owner’s body and she bounced where she sat on their bed. She was practically shaking with excitement at a new day!

Come on, come on!

Kamala wanted to go out, she wanted to go outside already! She couldn’t stay holded up any longer the day already started! She could hear the squirrels laughing at her, she’d catch this time, she swore she’d catch them. She’d be just like that puppy on tv. Carol. She was the best puppy in the whole wide world, and Kamala wanted to be just like her. Her owner said if she kept being a good girl then she’d be like that too!

Good girl! Good girl!

“Down girl, down girl.” Her owner yawned, but seemed to be just as happy as Kamala felt!

Kamala obeyed, hopping off the bed and awaiting for her owner to get up. Her hands— paws, padded at the side of the bed, sometimes her owner went back to sleep after Kamala woke her, she made sure she tapped at the side so she wouldn’t. Hehe, she was the bestest girl, stupid loud, dumb alarm clock couldn't do that. Kamala hated alarm clocks, blah , too noisy. They made her ears hurt.

“Instead I have stupid loud, dumb you to wake me up,” Her owner seemed so amused and gave Kamala such a good head pat. It felt so great to get a head pat, she wanted more! Her hand- paws grabbed her owner’s when she tried to pull away. Pulling back for more head pats!

“Who’s my good girl?” Her Owner asked in that special voice she used only for her.

Kamala yipped. She was! She was the bestest girl, she was the greatest girl. No bad girl here, only a good girl. Best girl. Best, best girl. Uh… Super-duper girl. Er…uh.

Kamala whimpered, was there something even better than the bestest girl? She couldn’t think of it. She wanted to be that.

“Up?”

Kamala sat up right and then hopped on to the bed before tackling her owner, she licked at her face and couldn’t help but wag her tail when her owner giggled. Kamala laid on top of her owner, her messy blonde, hair splayed behind her. Kamala yipped and then licked her owner’s nose. Mindee Cuckoo was the greatest owner in the world.

Kamala couldn’t help but try and get her tongue inside her owner's mouth- that was where all the best tastes were! Well, not all the best, but she needed special per-mis-ion to get at those tastes. Though if she was good it was easy-peasy and she was the bestest!

Mindee giggled and gently pushed Kamala away, “Good girl, good girl- if only they’d have let me go all the way.” 

Kamala tilted her head, she wasn’t sure what her owner meant by that, but it sounded dumb. You should totally do whatever you want.

“Oh come on, she said I could. I did not make her say that!”

Woof. Her owner was being weird today. 

“Urg- FINE! You guys are the worst, going to just have to settle for puppy land.” Mindee pouted. “Still, at least she’s still really cute and a good girl! A good girl that wants lots of walkies and to go outside!”

Kamala felt her entire world lit up at the word. Walkies. Walkies?! Walkies! WALKIES!

Kamala lept of the bed and began circling the floor.

Walkies! Walkies! Walkies! Walkies!

She pounced back and forth around, as her owner left the bed and went towards the special place where she just KNEW that her owner kept the bestest things in the whole wide world. She couldn't help  jumping up and down as she saw her collar and lead!

It was a very beautiful collar- black with some writing that said ‘BREEDABLE BITCH’ on it, although Kamala had no idea what that meant, but her owner said her collar made her the cutest in the whole wide park and she figured that had to be true if her owner said that. Besides, it meant walkies too, which was way awesome! 

“Stay girl!” 

Kamala sat still, and her owner knelt down, carefully putting it on her. She felt squirrels running in her tummy as she waited. Her owner was so mean! It always took so long for her to be collared. Kamala wanted to be collared! She wanted to be a breedable bitch!

Her owner looked up at the sky hopefully.

“Oh come on, I didn’t even make her do it that time.” Her owner pouted.

Kamala tilted her head curiously as her owner started swearing. She did that a lot when some things happened on the singing, moving people on the light box. But this was the first time it happened at the sky! Her owner was a weirdo. An adorable weirdo! Who gave walkies.

Kamala sat up, tongue out and panted. She was begging for it, there was no way her Owner wouldn't give her it now. Kamala was a cutey don’t ya’ know!

The day outside was absolutely gor-geous, the sun was shining, Squirrel-girls were in the trees like a pack of Doreen’s begging to be chased, the grass was green and uh… the sky was blue! 

Oh she all so hoped they could go to the park, they had all the best … everything! The park had people, squirrels, other pups and squirrels!

Kamala dashed ahead only to feel the tight tug of her collar around her neck, she yelped and stopped.

“Slow down, girl.” Her Owner said.

Kamala felt scratches on her head. She gave a soft delighted whimper.

“Who’s this troublemaker?”

Kamala perked up and jumped where she stood. Ms. Rachel!

The redheaded beauty was on her morning walkies, er, she called it jogging? Kamala thought walkies sounded better. She looked to be wearing those weird walkies clothes that you saw owners wearing sometimes- and they always made Kamala want to give that people a lot more attention!

“Mindee, how have you been?”

“Oh you know.”

Kamala whined. Pay attention to her! She wanted scratches, she wanted to be petted.

Ms.Rachel! Ms.Rachel! Ms. Rachel! Raaaaaacccccchhhheeeelllllll!

“Did you catch the latest episode of Glee?” 

“Yeah- it’s been going down hill honestly.”

Kamala whined even louder. She needed attention here! Hey! Hey!

She heard Ms. Rachel snicker. “Alright, I guess I’ll say to my favourite girl. Back?”

Kamala instantly laid back and splayed out. Rachel bent down and scratched her tummy.

“She loves the attention, doesn't she?”

“More than she knows it.” Her owner said. “Do you like Kamala?”

She barked. Of course she did!

“Good girl,” Mindee cooed. “Now come one, we don’t want to keep Ms.Rachel for long now do we?”

Kamala whined.

“Well when you say it like that, I want to spoil you~” Rachel purred and both her hands danced around Kamala’s tummy.

She panted heavily, she felt Ms. Rachel cupped her breasts and gave them a squeeze, a soft moan escaped her lips. She twitched with anticipation as Ms. Rachels’ hand gilded downward and then brushed over the lips of her pussy— her cunt.

“Now, now- if you spoil her now, she’ll get all worn out- and we’re having a nice long walk in this paradise.” Her owner tutted. 

“Of course, where are my manners,” Rachel’s hand left the soft cunt. 

Kamala had to admit, she was hoping for that. She got all mushy and good when Ms. Rachel spoiled her, it was a little bad and she didn’t mean to always go for it, but she really couldn’t help—

Kamala perked up and got on all fours. What was that? Her eyes darted around, and then finally landed on the source. Slender, curvaceous figure, long brown hair and the most annoying smell in the history of everything.

Kitty.

Kamala snarled and then burst out running after them. Oh she hated cats! Smug, stupid Kitty! Always taking the bestest treats from Ms. Emma. Kamala would show her!!

“Kamala, get back here!”

♦

“This is embarrassing.” Sophie huffed. She folded her arms over her chest and then laid back. “We’re in agreement with this, right?”

“I think I lost brain cells,” Celeste pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“Not that you had any in the first place,” Mindee shot back. 

“Go fuck yourself. How is this not actually the worst thing you could do? I should— Woof Woof!”  Celeste stuck out her tongue and panted. She then stood up straight, blinked and then glared. “Why you little—”

♦

Kamala returned to her owner to find her shouting at the sky again with a clump of Kitty’s hair in her ha— paws. That would show that stupid cat!

She wolfed proudly and set it down in front of her owner. 

“Huh? Oh not now just give me a second I’m trying to make sure-”

“Too late.” 

Kamala tilted her head at the stranger that smelled and looked just like her owner- but there was something… dif-er-ant about her… 

“Now, we’re going to talk about personal space and why you shouldn’t— Oh!” Celeste jumped where she stood. Kamala had taken to her almost immediately. “Woah, down girl. I need to talk to my sis—”

Kamala began licking. She didn’t know why but she felt like she should lick. The woman, the new one, that looked like her Owner, smelled like coffee. Kamala wasn’t supposed to have coffee, but she liked smelling it, it smelt really good and the woman tasted even better. She wasn’t usually allowed to lick that area until her had Per-mis-on- but this lady was naked like her owner was when she wanted it!

“Wha… Mindee, get out of my head, you can’t make me enjoy— Oh god right there.” The woman groaned out loud and then clutched Kamala’s head. “Deeper, please. ”

“That’s what I thought.” Kamala heard her owner say. “You all like acting like you're better than me, but I’ve always been the more powerful sister. You don’t invade my time and act like you control things. I control things, Celeste. Me. And in Puppy Land what I say goes, doesn’t it?”

“You little shi—” The new woman lurched forward. Gee, she sure liked Kamala’s licking, that made her happy. “Mindee— Stop I— Fuck, stay out of my head. I don’t…”

Kamala watched the strange woman fall backwards, she tilted her head, but then made a move to go back and start licking, she felt her Owner tug on her leash. Kamala was a good girl so she went back. She licked her lips and whined, that new lady sure did taste good.

“I don’t get to have my full fantasy, you may as well enjoy it for me.” Kamala saw her owner smile.

“What? Mindee what are— Oh fuck, no, no. You little I can’t… I can’t get out. My head it's — Mindee! These are actual dogs, you freak!”

Kamala heard her Owner laugh as they walked away. Man, she sure was excited about going to the park today.

♦

“So, does anyone else feel like joining her?” Mindee asked vindictively as they all watched Celeste on the ground writhing in pleasurable agony to Midnee’s own delight. 

The others all shook their heads. 

“That’s what I thought.” Mindee said and closed her eyes.

Sophie blinked. “What the fuck just happened?”

“I think we just got put into our place.” Esme raised a brow.

Phoebe shrugged. “I’ll say it, that was kinda hot.”

♦

Kamala had a jaunty smile on her face as she saw who exactly was coming up next in their path. Ms Jean Grey was walking her pet Hope! She loved those two!

Kamala practically pulled her owner along and could see Hope do the same. 

“Ah! Mindee, out for a walk I see? Jean said pleasantly. 

“I am indeed- it’s been far too long.”

Kamala and Hope sniffed each other’s faces, both getting familiar with each other’s scent again. Once it was, they started playing. Bouncing into each other, batting each other’s face, all the works.

Then Hope began sniffing at Kamala’s cunt, and naturally started lapping at it. Kamala’s whine turned into a moan as she moved around as well to do the same to Hope- they had to keep each other clean after all. Plus, while not as good as a person’s juices- Hope’s were still really good! She loved playing with Hope!

“Really going at it aren’t they?” Jean mused. 

“Definitely- but I’m not looking to have my puppy quite so… happy yet, if you get my meaning. Want her to be right on the edge as it were.” Mindee explained. 

“Always have to make sure about that- but let’s make sure she gets Hope all tired out first shall we?” 

“Wait- you weren’t supposed to say that-” Mindee started before Jean winked. 

“We were just passing by and simply had to make a cameo- this is pretty close to our actual relationship after all.” 

“We?”

“Speak.” 

“Jean’s a liar, our bodies are halfway across the island and I was meditating- I’m so not into this.” Hope briefly broke character and took her tongue out of Kamala’s pussy. She blinked, stared blankly and then resumed before the pup could so much as whine about it.

“Her denial is part of the game.” Jean smiled.

“Is everyone intent on butting in, today?” Mindee asked no one.

“If Scott had told me Ms. Marvel was here, I’d have snatched her up before Emm passed her off to you five. I’m actually quite a fan.”

“I appreciate this, heck I love this, I get this inkling that you're even more into what I want than you seem.”

“Is that so?” Jean smiled. Her finger brushed Mindee’s chin and then lifted it upwards. “You haven’t the faintest idea how far my interests spread.”

“I…” Mindee lulled in place. She fell forward and landed into Jean’s embrace. Her face went squarely in her breasts. Mindee inhaled deeply and the woman’s scent invaded her nostrils.

Mindee, then blinked and stood up right. “Huh?”

Kamala didn’t understand any of those people words- all she knew was that she was getting really close and so was her partner… 

Hope shivered and pulled away from Kamala moments before the puppy was treated to some of the best ‘milk’ of all! So delicious, and none more so than her owners… Kamala panted and whined as she felt Hope leave her however- that was unfair! She wanted to feel like that too!

“Hush you, plenty of opportunities for that later.” Her owner soothed as Ms Jean and her pet Hope seemed to just vanish!

Kamala looked curiously at her owner who just shook her head. “I’m beginning to understand why Mum doesn’t like her. Come on now, we’re burning daylight.” Kamala’s leash was gently nudged in the direction her owner walked forward in.

Kamala yipped in agreement, and onwards they continued- over footpaths and over such wonderful warm grass to roll on, it was fantastic and her shenanigans made Mindee giggle. 

Kamala heard her before she saw her and her heart did three leaps in her chest. She wagged her tail and hopped in the spot she stood in. She knew those voices! Her tail wagged and she was chafing against her collar and lead as she tried to rush forward. Kamala choked a little, the collar a hard tightness around her throat, she twitched and felt her cunt squeeze. She whined with pleasure.

“Easy now! ANy harder and they’ll say I’m abusing you. That and you might cum and good girls don’t cum do they? Do they! Who’s my good little edger? Hm?” Her master smirked.

Kamala yipped. She was! She was a good, little edger. She loved being on the edge. Kamala bounced and panted where she sat. Her Owner couldn’t resist squatting down and giving her head a chaotic scratch.

They rounded the corner, as Kamala barked a confirmation as to what her master was saying to see…. Ms. Betsy!

Kamala’s eyes lit up and she pulled harder, trying to dash forward, her Owner relented and was dragged along with her.

Ms. Betsy had her hand beneath the chin of her pride and joy. Kamala didn’t know many pups as pretty as Ororo. The noble puppy hadn't batted an eye when Kamala almost crashed into Betsy. The purple-haired woman stopped her with a raised hand, and then presented a treat, which Kamala greedily gobbled up.

“I see that I’m not the only one taking advantage of good weather- of course, it always is.” Betsy smirked and scratched the underside of Ororo’s chin.

“Of course it is,” Mindee rolled her eyes slightly. “But of course mine is better than yours.” 

Kamala couldn’t care about what the owners were saying however when she was too busy taking a seat and trying to impress the other puppy with her good behaviour. 

Kamala felt her heart thumb in her chest when Ororo rounded her and sniffed at her. Kamala tried not to let the anxiety and excitement show, she kept still. She really hoped that she’d be able to impress Ororo. 

Ororo shook her head, her long white mane dancing in the wind, before she presented her hind quarters for Kamala. Her eyes widened and she dove right in, licking away with excitement and glee. It was always a treat when Ororo deemed you worthy to play with her! Half the time she didn’t let anyone do it, so Kamala cherished this momentary kindness.

“So, how is your better half?” Mindee made polite conversation. 

“Training our newcomer. She’s got more energy in her young age than both girls did. You should see her, she makes the most adorable little whines when you play with her. We’re trying to see if she’ll get along with Illy a bit more.”

Kamala was busy doing her due diligence to her fellow pup. Ororo as best as she could, and while not very experienced- her energy and enthusiasm more than made up for it as she could barely stay still! Ororo moved backward, pressing her butt into Kamala’s face and the pup felt smothered. Pretty soon she felt the full weight of it as before she knew it, Ororo had pushed her all the way back on her back and sat on her face. The imperious pup let out a haughty sniff and then patted Kamala’s tummy. She took the cue and continued to lick. Ororo was a leaky puppy, she was like heavy rain and smelt like fresh grass after, with a hint of sunshine to it.

“What about you? Teach Kamala any new tricks?” Betsy asked. 

“Well we’ve been working on it- but we’ll wait till they’ve finished playing.” Mindee claimed. 

Kamala knew that trick! It was a great trick! But her master was right, she needed to keep playing before she could pull off that trick- it always made her very excited when she did it!

Lick, lick, lick, lick! So many great juices! Ororo started to whine, but in a good way. She wanted and squirmed, Kamala enjoyed the way she rubbed on her face. Ororo’s cunt mushed against Kamala's lips and she giggled, which Ororo seemed to like a lot. 

Kamala then heard a long whistle. “Illyana, come!” A hard voice called. Kamala would have jumped up, if Ororo wasn’t on her. She knew that voice. Ms. Kwannon!

Kamala squired beneath Ororo. She wanted to see Ms. Kawannon too. Ms. Kwannon was always meaner than Ms. Betsy, but in a fun way! She whined out and Ororo took the cue, huffing with displeasure before skipping back to Ms. Betsy.

Kamala flipped on her legs and looked up. She saw the intimidating woman before her squatted down and reached out. Kamala flinched, but cooed when she felt the womans’ gentle hands on her head.

“You’ve been good, right?” Ms. Kwannon asked her.

Kamala yipped. Of course she’d been good.

“Up.”

Kamala stood up.

“Back.”

Kamala fell back down and turned on her back.

“Speak.”

“I didn’t care for Avengers the Musical.”

Mindee blinked. She didn’t teach Kamala that one. Weird thing to feel strongly about. Mindee felt slightly muffled that Kwannon had stolen her thunder.

“Now I don’t think that’s what we want, is it?” Kwannon said.

Kamala whimpered. Did she do bad?

“Speak!” Kwannon said again.

“Breed me!”

“Speak!”

“I’m a Slut!” 

“Good girl.” Kwanna smiled and stood. Kamala felt the tip of the woman’s show rub at her wet cunt. Kamala cooed and stuck her tongue out.

Kamala heard a soft growl and turned to see Illyana eyeing her. The blonde pup was a rude one, she liked bullying Kamala when the owners weren’t looking. Frankly Kamala considered her down right terrifying sometimes.

Kamala cowered slightly but didn't whimper, trying to be brave because Ororo was right there! Kamala looked away though, she’d lost that match between them, but that wasn’t because she was scared! It was because there was another pup! A new pup! A new butt! A new set of breasts! A new cunt!

Kamala almost frothed at the mouth. Cunt. Cunt. Cunt. She always felt so tingly with that word. Her Owner said it was her favourite word. She also said that Kamala’s was the best because it was so unused- which was weird because she’d been with her master for years, she said a lot of weird things. 

Kamala’s head snapped back to Ms. Kwannon when her boot tapped up at Kamala’s cunt again. She hoped she wasn’t messing it up too bad. Kamala had a naughty, leaky cunt. Her Owner always told her to stop humping the table legs and making a mess of it. Kamala couldn’t help it though, it felt too good!

“So, who’s the new Puppy?” Mindee asked.

Kamala felt Ms. Kwannon’s foot move away.

“This here’s Jubilee. Say hi, Jubes.” Betsy said and encouraged the new pup to come from behind her leg.

Kamala did her best to appear as friendly as possible— she knew that meeting new people could be so scary sometimes! So she sat politely and gave her most friendly ‘Woof!’

Slowly, Jubilee peered out from behind Betsy’s leg, Kamala didn’t blame her, humping Betsy’s leg was fun, but regardless Kamala was struck by how cute this puppy was!

Though she was cuter…

The moment of awe lasted for a moment, as Illyana jumped out and tackled Jubilee. Kamala reeled back with shock and she heard Ms. Kwannon sigh. The blonde puppy laid on top of the new pup with a smug grin. Jubilee whimpered and Kamal felt sorry for her, but she wasn’t exactly jumping to help. She… Kamala felt squirrels in her stomach. That wasn’t…

She stepped forward. She was afraid of Illyana. She was bigger and meaner, but Kamala… Kamala didn’t like bullies, she didn’t like bullies one bit!

There was another charge, but this time it was Kamala tackling Illyana off of Jubilee. She sent  them both into a tumble. She got no small amount of satisfaction at the surprise in Illyana’s howl. That quickly became a growl of anger, and before she knew it, Kamala was face to face with her.

She looked back at her owner, who was scrolling through pictures on her phone, showing the other two pup owners. Kamala swallowed. Illyana launched at her.

Kamala yelped and then howled when Illyan bit on her nipple. Ouch!

Kamala pawed at her, hitting her relentlessly to fight her off. Illyana shrugged it off and moved up, before sitting on Kamala’s face. She fought beneath the blonde and then eventually tired herself out, barely able to breath.

“Illyana! Get off her.”

Illyana didn’t get off. She was yanked  off. Kamala gasped for breath but quite enjoyed the following punishment. Illyana was dragged up on Kwannon’s lap and the woman relentlessly spanked her, which made Illyana howl in pain.

Heh, serves you right. Kamal smirked.

She heard her Owner clear her throat. “Doesn’t matter who started it.”

Kamala’s eyes went wide and she barked in protest. She had been helping!

“Kamala.”

Kamala hung her head and then walked over to her seated owner and climbed up over her lap. She saw Jubilee give her a look of apology. Kamala shook her head, it was okay. She didn’t do it because she wanted to fight Illyana- she wanted to do it to help the new puppy. Still fighting was bad, and Kamala needed to face the music. 

She braced herself for the punishment and it came in spectacular fashion. 

Her Mistress’ hand came down hard on Kamala’s bare butt- the poor pup whined loudly as she was struck. Pain went through her, but also pleasure at the same time. It was like a red hot feeling concentrated in her butt. Kamala bit her lips.

But of course, it was only the first one, and probably the softest that she’d get, Kamala braced for another then- 

Mindee was gone. 

Wait, what? 

Everything was gone.

Kamala whimpered. 

Hello?

♦

“For the love of, what is wrong with you— What the hell is going on?” Mindee had been fuming until she saw the cluster of mutants on the ground foaming at the mouth.

“Psychic virus, probably a gift from those prudes at Orchis. Be happy we decided to wake you up. We left Celeste to bite it, which means I’m in charge.” Sophie smiled, pleased.

“Kamala?”

“Catatonic like the rest, I’m sure she’ll be fine. Now, come on, we have to protect paradise.”

“Krakoa must be protected at all cost.” They said in unison, and they didn’t speak alone.

Mutants all over the island,even those that had been previously immobilised by the virus, stood up. Together, they spoke:

“Protect paradise.”

Chapter Text

There had been hugs, a dog pile in fact. After that, everyone took their own. Those were more personal, more intimate. Viv’s was the tightest, the most longing and sorrowful. That’s why Kamala went for her first.

Kamala knocked on the door. It slid open, and Viv greeted her. The Synthezoid didn’t look much different, she apparently switched out her parts as she got older to keep with the maturity of her mind and avoid dysphoria. Vivian was nineteen, same as her, and she’d decided that meant a taller body, and taking a different hairstyle.

Kamala admittedly thought the loose ponytail quite suited her.

“Not interrupting anything am I?”

“Of course not, Kamala. I was finishing up a call with Wanda.” Vivian replied. 

“That’s good. Mind if I come in? I’ve been doing some thinking and wanted to talk about something.” 

Viv nodded and Kamala entered. Vivian’s room hadn’t changed all that much since Kamala had last been around it. There were more photos from younger years, along with new mementos, but it remained otherwise relatively sparse as before. Kamala sat on Viv’s bed and then patted next to her. Vivian sat, joining her.

“What did you wish to discuss?” Viv asked simply. 

“I’m hoping you’ll be honest with me, a little.” Kamala smiled.

Vivian pursed her lips. “I do not understand.”

“You missed me.”

“I— You were gone. I thought we had lost you forever.” Vivian seemed heartbroken.

“But, I came back.”

“An unprecedented occurrence, but one I am sincerely grateful for.” Vivian said. She had a gentle smile.

“You know that I am half-mutant, right?”

“Yes. You are the first mutant-human hybrid, a title that once belonged to the daughter of Quicksilver, but given the revelations of their origins seems to no longer be the case.”

“Didn’t know that, but yeah.” Kamala said. “So, it means I have a mutant power.”

“I see.”

Kamala moved a hand onto Viv’s thigh. “I… was thinking about our first Champions meeting so I was. When we first met properly in the woods and then you kissed Cho, remember?”

“Of course, I remember every moment. Nothing will ever be forgotten.”  Vivian looked at Kamala's hand.

Kamala noted that she seemed to breathe harder despite not needing to.

“Good, because right now Viv. I’m in a pretty experimental mood.” Kamala leaned in and kissed her.

Viv made an adorable, little noise of surprise that quickly melted into a moan- yet Kamala pulled away after just a few moments.  Vivian leaned over for more. Kamala stopped her.

“Heel.” Kamala said, she smiled. “Viv, about what needed to be said. Are you going to say it?”

“I love you.” The words couldn’t have come from Vivian’s mouth any quicker.

“Good girl.” Kamala kissed her again. This time, it was more intense, more passionate as Kamala’s hand squeezed Viv’s thigh even harder. The feeling of synthetic lips on her own was exhilarating. “As it turns out, I’m an empath. Pretty fitting, I’d say. When you hugged me, I picked up a lot of things from you. Your mind’s a little different from others, but it's not out of my range. 

Viv’s eyes widened, and dozens of thoughts clearly shot through her brain. Kamala cut her off with another kiss. “Shhhh, don’t worry, you don’t need to think about it- I can feel you, and you can feel me. What is it you’re feeling, Viv?”

“Want.”

“Yes.”

“Lust.”

“Keep going.”

“Control.” Vivian breathed heavily.

“Mm-hm.”

“Submissiveness.”

“And who’s going to give it to me?”

Vivian opened her mouth, Kamala’s hand pushed up her legs. She moaned softly. The choice was stolen from her. “I am.” She purred.

“Good girl.”

Kamala’s hand went towards Vivian’s crotch- messaging the outer layer of the jeans. “Do you know what it means? To give me control?”

“Control. Noun. The power to influence or direct people's behaviour or the course of events.” Vivian recited.

“Undress.”

“Understood.” Vivian said and phased.

“Not so fast. slower” 

And Viv did. She acted like a good, obedient girl following her orders. Kamala licked her lips, enjoying this feeling. This powerful need of control that she felt. Addicting, fascinating, no wonder her mistresses had kept her for so long. 

Kamala moved herself, getting to her knees as she was between Viv’s spread legs. It was an utterly perfect recreation of a human vagina. Though Kamala had always suspected it was an improved version, something she’d always wanted to test.

“I learned a fair bit about myself in Krakoa. And luckily, the plan was always to go global.” Kamala’s thumb ran down the wet folds of Vivian’s synthetic pussy. “Do you masturbate, Viv?”

“I—”

“Don’t bother hesitating, that’s basically a yes. Do you masturbate about me ?”

“I have.”

“What do I do to you?”

“You kiss me.”

“Check.”

“You touch me.”

“Check.”

“You…”

“Go on, I won’t bite unless you beg for it.”

“Restrain me.”

“Bondage, hm? That’s not bad.” Kamala licked her lips. “Not bad at all, but you see Viv. I said I was in an experimental mood, not a generous one.”

Vivian looked concerned.

“Who controls you?”

“You do.”

“Define control.”

“The power to influence or direct people's behaviour or the course of events.”

“Then let me tell you how this goes. You won’t be cumming until I have everyone on this ship embracing the Krakoan way. Do you understand me?” Kamala’s thumb pressed against the pussy’s folds, rubbing gently, teasingly. 

“I—”

“Now, my powers, they don’t work as strongly on you as they will the others. What does that mean?”

“I…” Vivian choked on the words.

“It means you submitted willingly.” Kamala told her. She continued to rub the Synthezoid’s increasingly wet cunt. “This is one traitorous cunt, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Vivian admitted, unable to hold back a moan.

“I’ve prepared something for you Viv, here.” Kamala offered it up. A USB that was seemingly innocent. “On it is a program that will fully make you feel like you’re under the effects of a massive vibrator- yet unable to cum until I say. Would you like that?”

Vivian nodded.

“No. You have to say it.”

“I want it. I want to be under your control. I want to help you take our friends.” Vivian said, much to Kamala’s pleasure.

She took the flash drive and gasped when she downloaded the contents. She made a sound, a mixture of moans and error noises, before dropping to her knees. She took a few seconds to boot up again, and she barely managed to stand on her shaking legs.

Vivian was panting hard and grasped at her own body, it was like she’d been brought to life.

“Go on.”

Vivian left, and Kamala rested on her bed. She indulged herself a bit, rubbing over her costume. Massaging her wet cunt and moaning softly.

“Traitorous cunt, hm?”

Kamala jumped up right. She looked next to her and saw one of the Cuckoos, Sophie, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Choice words for someone like you, I would say.” She smiled. “You know we thought we broke your brain.”

“ What ?” Kamala’s voice was high pitched, as the fantasy around her crumbled slightly. The memories rushed in. She was… Oh god.

“You!”

“No.”

“What?”

“No.” Sophie said. “No, you will not be shouting at me. No, you will not be punching me. No, we will not be doing the game everyone likes to play. My sisters consider me the bitch, and they're right, I am a bitch, but for different reasons other than this. They like to play, I want to get straight to the point. Go on, say it. Blame me for what just happened.”

“You’re in my head!” Kamala practically screamed at her. “You and your sisters are making me think all sorts of weird things. This is an invasion— You forced all your weird fantasies on me. You’re sick!” Her mind whirled with all the previous instances. Coffee, servants, pets.

“One week.”

“What?” Kamala caught her breath. “What the heck are you talking about?”

“You’ve been asleep for one week.”

Kamala’s vision threatened to blur. “You’re lying.”

“The island was attacked. We fought, one of us died. Mindee, if you care. I thought it was pretty funny, still do. She disagrees, but we’ve been doing a lot of that lately. We’d put you in a state of sleep while things went down, but one of us dying messes with us. Frankly we forgot about you.”

Kamala’s mind whirled at the information. It was a lot to take in at once, and there was a solid burst of pure empathy at hearing Mindee had died, but the fact they just forgot about her—

“You’re insane. All of you are insane!” 

“Mm, sure we are.” Sophie tilted her head forward. “Does that make you feel better, Kamala?”

“What’s wrong with you?!”

“You were telling me, please continue. Because I’m eager to tell you all about yourself.”

That smelled a lot like a trap to Kamala, like some kind of ‘gottcha’. But she didn’t care as her frustrations all came to a head. Anger boiled under her skin as she got a head full of steam. “You’re completely insane! What kind of person would kidnap and brainwash someone then abandon them! Your cruel, and mean and-” Kamala ran out of steam, panting aggressively.

“Are you done?” Sophie checked her nails. “Because if you're done, then we can actually get something accomplished here. And what do you want from me, an apology? Oh goodness gracious Kamala, my sisters sure are sorry that the island got attacked and one of us died making you no longer a top priority.”

“You're trying to make me angry,” Kamala accused. “You know that’s not why I’m mad.” 

“Isn’t it? You seemed to be enjoying yourself a lot before we left you alone.” Sophie stretched her arms. “You like to pretend otherwise of course, but just look at the fantasy I found you in. In it, you’re busy starting to corrupt your friends under our orders, and how wet it got you. It’s sad honestly.”

“No, you guys, you caused this by leaving me alone with your stupid brainwashing,” Kamala defended herself.

“It's always easy to blame the telepaths.” Sophie swiped at the air the same manner one would a phone screen.

Kamala’s entire world shifted at the motion. The scenery blurred as it rapidly ran past their sights as if they were moving at high speeds. The world settled and Kamala sank at the sight. This was her room.

Sophie walked over and sat at Kamala’s desk, where another her, worked dutifully at her project. A little too dutifully. Kamala winced, it was like she was back in that moment all over again. She could almost feel the strain of trying to type with one hand as the other shyly teased her wet pussy.

“You’ve always been like this,” Sophie looked over the shoulder of the other her. “I think this sentence is very illuminating.” She cleared her throat. “‘ I was hanging there from the ceiling, my naked form showcasing my hard nipples in the wind as my idol stood there with the strapon. ’ Why Miss Marvel, that's positively filthy American’s innocent little sweetheart, who knew she could write such things..” 

“It was part of the story,” Kamala mumbled as she looked away. “For the plot.” 

“You seemed to really enjoy this particular plot,” Sophie looked the memory up and down. “As you can see, unlike my sisters, I won’t baby a hypocrite.”

“I’m not a hypocrite!” 

Sophie didn’t say a word, merely letting the moans of memory speak for her. She was smug about it though.

Kamala furrowed her brows. “Okay, fine. I masturbate. I like slightly spicy things. What’s your point?” She crossed her arms and frowned. “You don’t take away someone’s ability to think like that, mess with their head. You know what you are doing is wrong. Plain and simple.”

“You say all of those things, but do you believe them?” Sophie tilted her head and time around them sped up. A different day, a similar story. 

The memory of Kamala, a video from an indecent site on her phone, and right away she recognized it. Her memory felt so real, her fingers deep in her greedy cunt, panting with warm breath as…

“You always enjoyed the fantasy of it. Hypnotic fantasy of losing your mind to becoming a slut, how many hours did you spend looking at those pretty spirals Kamala? How often would heroines be hypnotised in your stories no matter their rating?” 

Kamala looked at the memory and felt a slight heat on her cheeks and through her body. She closed her eyes for a moment and let herself breath.

“You’re right.”

“And if we— come again?”

“You are right.” Kamala admitted. “I like this stuff, I like being hypnotised and I love the way the thought of it makes me feel, but that doesn’t mean you can just come into my life and do that, because I have fantasies. That’s wrong.”

“Fuck me.” Sophie grumbled. “How did you still end up with the moral high ground?” She sighed.

“Because I’m a hero. I know what’s right and wrong. And this, this is wrong .” 

“Fine.” Sophie said. “I’m in the wrong for forcing this on you.”

“Is everyone else hypnotised? Are you?”

“Kamala, of course… huh.” Sophie paused for a moment. She seemed to be searching her thoughts for something then paused, her eyelids flicked and her body shivered. She bit her lip and a soft moan came from her lips. “ Krakoa is a paradise." She said in near ecstasy.

Kamala blinked. “You are .” The heat returned. That burning sensation in her buddy. There was a sense of nervousness and apprehension, but above it, was pure and utter excitement. It was like her fanfictions, this went deeper. 

“I’m what?”

“Are the X-men still heroes?”

“I mean have we ever really been? Everyone’s been evil once.”

“Not me, and you don’t have to be.” Kamala urged. 

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Yes, girl scout we’re still heroes. We’re just not taking anyone’s shit anymore.”

“Okay, I want in. Do what you need to do to me.”

“You turned around quickly.”

“Well, I know something you don’t, so that’s pretty nice.”

Sophie scrunched up her nose and eventually let Kamala ride her high horse for all it was worth, which to her, not much.

“I am curious about this all, and if I get it right, you have to promise you’ll tell me. Everyone on the island is affected by this, it doesn’t seem to be negative, just a fanfiction level of smut and connectivity—”

“Who the hell are you talking to?”

“— The psychics are a part of it, but not really all that aware, at least these five are. No one is questioning anything, so either they’re all affected or everyone, but one, which sounds like a lot of work, so they’d have to be powerful, but then again that could be a red herring.” Kamala thought for a bit more. “I got it! It's the mutant island, Krakoa.” She put her hands at her side and smugly put out her chest.

Everything went dark, and then- There was an almost… familiar laugh, like disturbingly familiar. She knew that laugh, but that didn’t make any sense at all. Because that laugh wasn't Krakoa’s, she wasn’t sure if it could even laugh,  it wasn’t the laugh of Apocalypse, or Thanos, or Galactus. No, that laugh was personal to her.

“Huh.” Kamala pursed her lips. 

It was–

♦️

Kamala shot upright and looked around. She was in a bed that wasn’t her own. She was in a house that wasn’t her parents and—

“You hypnotised me!” Kamala barked when she saw the five blondes.

“Past tense, Kamala?” They all spoke. “Why, we haven’t finished.” Five smiles formed.

Kamala felt a shiver down her spine. “You can’t do…”

“Is there something wrong Kamala?” Five voices swam in her mind.

Yes. No. Yes. No. 

Was… was something wrong? 

“Why, isn’t it obvious? Phoebe and Sophie haven’t gotten their turns. That’s very cruel of you Kamala.”

“S-s-stop it.” Kamala lurched forward and then stiffened back up. She couldn’t think much less move. It was difficult to manage a thought, but thinking was hard wasn’t it? Her body was heavy, her mind even more so. Kamala leaned back in bed, she laid there. She heard her own breath as she inhaled and exhaled, calmly.

For a moment she closed her eyes, and when they opened five faces looked over her.

“Kamala?”

“Yeah…?”

“How do you feel?”

“Tired. Sleepy.”

“That won’t do, you need a pick me up.” Five voices snickered. “Would you like some coffee?”

Kamala melted. Roasted beans. Cream. Sugar. Milk. Nutmeg. But Sugar… How much sugar?

One Spoon. Two Spoons. Three Spoons. Four Spoons. Five Spoons.

“Here you go, a fresh cup of coffee exactly how you like it.” Five voices told her.

Kamala drank. She did so slowly, her lips touched the rim of the porcelain glass and the warm liquid touched them, moving past them and over her tongue washing and drowning it with exquisite flavour.

Kamala felt a hand grasp her thigh. She breathed.

“Do you remember what we discussed about change? Is it wonderful how the coffee beans become something so beautiful, and soothing, Kamala?”

“Yes.”

“Change is good, isn’t it Kamala?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like to change for us, Kamala?”

“Y—” Kamala paused, she took a breath, sucking in the air. She exhaled. Nothing was wrong. This was her choice. She looked at the five. “Yes.”

“We know you just had your coffee, but please sleep for us, Kamala.”

Kamala closed her eyes.

♦️

Kamala’s eyes fluttered open. She began her day. The routine was as simple as it always had been. She left her bed, turning around to spread and tidy it.

Diligence.

Keeping to the task, never failing. Her routine was paramount to everything. She kept it.

Proficiency.

She smoothed the last crease of her sheet, and smiled at a job well done. One had to be good at what they did.

Kamala disrobed her sleepwear. She made a motion over to the shower and turned on the water. She felt the warmth pelt against her skin.

Eloquence.

There was a certain charm to things done well and beautifully. This was a matter of art. There was an art to her work, and art to her pleasure. Her fingers danced over her body. She took soft grabs of her breasts, and her hands danced and teased at the lips of her wet pussy. The power to resist, to tease and savour, that was eloquent.

Obedience.

The word was law. The words of her Mistresses. Their thoughts were her thoughts. She did not touch, because they did not want it. She obeyed and she listened.

Submission.

Her mind was open. There was no wall, no resistance. Everything that was hers was theirs. She was theirs. Her body belonged to them.

♦️

Kamala’s eyes opened. She woke up early, her owner wasn’t up as of yet, but that was fine. Kamala knew not to bother and knew not to make trouble, that was because she was a good girl.

Kamala’s nostrils flared and she walked over towards the strange thing. Her owner used it a lot, but it showed you yourself. Kamala once thought that what she saw was another puppy, but that wasn’t the case. What she saw was herself.

What she saw was a good girl.

♦️

“Good morning Kamala, how do you feel?” 

“Wonderful,” The young Mutant beamed at the five as she sat up in bed. “I haven’t been asleep for long have I?”

“Not very long at all,” Five angelic voices assured her. Five identical lips curled into five perfectly, warm smiles.

“That’s good,” Kamala breathed a sigh of relief. “Can I have some more coffee?”

Immediately she was given another cup, and from it she drank this most precious of liquids. A low, lewd moan escaped her lips. 

“You’ve come very far Kamala.” They praised her, and it felt good. Just like it did to serve them and to know the truth about everything.

That Krakoa was a paradise.

“We got you a present,” Celeste spoke alone. “It’s waiting for you in the living room, just like we will be.”

Kamala nodded as they departed, participating in her usual morning routine- this was nice so it was. Better than how life had been before she was pretty sure. They’d even given her a uniform to show that she was a proper Mutant now, an X-Men uniform that fit like a glove.

Yet when it was over Kamala found herself in the living room before the Stepford Cuckoos, in the middle of them a simple box. She opened it and gave a soft gasp as she saw what was inside- 

It was a collar. The item was eloquently designed and crafted. Clear magical work done on it as well as Kamala circled the words on it with her fingers.

The Stepford Cuckoos’ bitch.

“I don’t know what to say,” Kamala breathed. “It’s perfect.”

“We knew you’d like it.” Phoebe said. 

“If you decide to wear it, then you belong to us.” Celeste crossed her arms and leaned back. 

“Everyone will know it, and we will control your orgasms, your arousal, your mind.” Mindee smiled. 

“We’ve given you a taste.“

“This will make it official.”

“So.”

“What do you say, Kamala?”

“It’s your choice.”

“It always has been.”

“Always will be.”

Actions, Kamala had been often told, spoke louder than words. She moved back her hair, revealing her neck and looked at the five. She turned around presenting her back to them, Kamala heard them snicker. Soon, she shivered when she felt their fingers at her neck, and then she shuddered, almost losing control of herself, at the sound of the final clip.

She was theirs.

“Now, we can have real fun,” She felt the breath on her neck. “Close your eyes.”

Kamala did so easily, trusting them completely. 

She could hear them all move around, and felt herself being brought to sit down. Behind her one of them that could only be Celeste massaged Kamala’s shoulders, relaxing her, preparing her for the others. 

She wasn’t sure how she knew, some innate familairy from the time spent together she supposed. But regardless, she knew that Sophie and Mindee were at her sides while Phoebe and Irma both gave her thighs a squeeze. Sophie lifted her shirt, Kamala’s breasts spilling out in all of their glory. 

Kamala let out a shaky breath as she leaned her head back and her lips met Celeste’s, tongues clashing as Mindee pinched a nipple. Slowly Phoebe's hands worked their way up towards Kamala’s thigh.

This—

There’s a moment when her heart stops. Her breathing exudes shakingly from her lips and her entire body quivers.

Say it.

Go on.

Four small words.

Perfect words.

The last words you’ll ever say. The words you were always meant to say.

Kamala buckled.

“Krakoa is a Paradise.” 

♦️

Year of X. One hundred years.

Nations rose, and nations fell. Stars scattered and reformed. Eternity stretched before her. Boundless, infinite. 

But no matter how much changed over the years, one thing remained the same.

The laugh was tender. It was enchanting. It was everything.

Once, a good meal had been described to her as wonder and satisfaction in a single bite. Rasputin IX had never tasted such a meal before, but she didn’t have to. Not when the laugh of the one above was simply that much more fulfilling.

“A favour? Sure. Have fun, Kamala.”

“Majesty X?” Rasputin looked up at the greatest mutant to ever live.

The Mutant Dominion, Kamala Khan, Majesty X, The Jovial, The Savior and many more titles landed her eyes on the metallic Chimera.

She did not make Rasputin feel small, more than anything she felt larger than before. Because she had been seen.

“I said you could call me, Kamala, Rasputin. Is something the matter?”

Every word spoken held a weight behind it, yet it was never a bad weight. It was more akin to speaking with a comforting blanket, or a warm hearth than anything else.

“I would never dishonour in such a manner, as to use your true name. I am no friend of you, only a loyal follower of the path you’ve crafted with her magminious hands.”

“I didn’t know you were genetically predisposed to be show poetic.”

Rasputin blushed.

“I’ve said it once, twice, perhaps even thrice. I always hated the idea of having followers, but of course Sinister thought a Dominion would want nothing except them,” Kamala rolled her eyes. “Friends are good for someone to have- no matter how big you get. Still, what’s on your mind?”

“Who were you speaking to just now? I did not see anyone.”

“Myself.”

“I do not follow, Majesty.”

“Kamala,” The Mutant Dominion corrected. She shrank down to Rasputin’s own human size and took her hands. The metallic woman shivered. “Bit of a pet project I’ve been working on. Well, multiple. Little pushes here and there and well, you can influence a timeline to be what you’d like. It's not controlling per say…” Majesty X bit her lips. “Just little nudges towards what I like.”

“Forgive me, my understanding is failing me. What are you referring to, Maje—” Rasputin cleared her throat. “Kamala.”

“Stories!”

“Stories?”

“Stories.” Kamala nodded with a clear air of satisfaction. “Little personal stories, for a bit of well, fun . Would you like to read one?”

“I believe I would be honoured.”

“Do you remember the tales of the great Krakoan Age?”

“Yes, it was a paradise.”

Kamala smirked. “You’re darn right it was. Allow me to show a favourite of mine.”

The world shifted in an instant, the environment was engulfed in what appeared to be a sandstorm, Rasputin IV covered her eyes with her arm and when it had ceased, her very breath was practically taken away. 

They were in the Krakoan age, just as glorious and eden-like as the legends promised. But immediately a noise stole her attention as Rasputin IV turned to see–

Oh dear.

It was Majesty X as heard of in the stories, before her very being became made of the stars themselves. Only, rather than the daring heroics she’d imagined, she was being held down by five identical women. One for each limb, and the fifth sporting what could only be described as a gigantic phallus rubbing against the vagina of Kamala. 

Her metallic face blush red in a way reminiscent of metal would melt. This hadn’t been what she’d been expecting at all. 

“ Kamala Khan breathed shallowly in anticipation as she eyed the one eyed monster below her. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t back out now. But she’d never once considered backing down from this challenge. ” Majesty X gave a narrated whisper as the other occupants of the room ignored them.

Kamala was doing exactly what the other her had described, Rasputin IV’s heart was beating faster than it ever had in her life before now. This was… 

With a grunt, the woman, a Stepford Cuckoo if she wasn’t mistaken, pulled back then plunged the phallus inside of Kamala. For a moment it looked like it wouldn’t fit, but then it did and kept going deeper and deeper inside without pause. Kamala’s stomach buldged and you could see the Phallus through it and almost instinctively Rasputin IV’s own hand went right towards her—

“I don’t mind if you Masturbate to this,” Majesty X whispered into her ear, and Rasputin shivered. “I’d even encourage it. A classic corruption story so it is, innocence into sluttiness. I’ve written thousands of stories like it.”

A guiding, almost motherly hand brought Rasputin’s right where it needed to be and of their own accord, she started rubbing in little circles through the fabric.

“ Good girl , now watch.” 

And she did as the scene played out before her. Kamala Khan squirming in the grip of Cuckoos hold her steady while one of them thrust with a furious pace, faster and faster and faster- 

It was mesmerising. The sweat on her brow, the lewd moans and slapping of flesh on flesh. The other Cuckoos teasing with a thousand kisses all over Kamala’s body, sucking on her nipples, biting her in a sexual manner, each one a mark of dominance before finally- 

Rasputin IV gasped as her legs trembled, an orgasm threatening to send her to her knees, at the same time the lead Cuckoo screaming and unleashing what must have been a flood of seamen into Kamala who likewise screamed. The words lost to time, yet clearly begging for more and more. 

The Cuckoo stayed inside for perhaps a minute, and when she pulled out a large amount of sexual fluid left the vagina.

“She goes on to have each one of them inside of her, and eventually gives birth to quintuplets like them,” Majesty X continued a whispered narration. “The first of many as she discovers the joy of a breeding kink and makes her way across the entire island’s population. But over time, she does it more, and more and more until … Well, that’s a story for another time.”

“Are all of your stories like this?” Rasputin IV asked with bated breath. 

“A fair amount, why?”

“Do… do you take requests, your majesty?”

Again, the laugh, louder, more jovial and happy. “That’s exactly what she asked! Still, of course, what do you have in mind?”

“Well…”