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** ** indicates telepathic communication.
‘ ’ indicates thought
“ ” indicates spoken words

“….Which will be on the day I die.”

“How is she?” Ororo looked up at teammate in the other cell, his voice emotionless, just as his visage. All of them had been shocked and repulsed by Sabertooth’s torture of Stacy.
He had brutally raped her, cutting into her skin with his sharp claws, while scratching and tearing her vaginal muscles with his vicious penetration.

Ororo had managed to clean and bandage her wounds, using the basic medical supplies provided by their captors.

“I don’t know” Ororo answered softly, whispering under her breath, knowing that Logan would be able to hear her, his senses fully activated by the removal of his power-inhibiting collar. The same type of collar, which she and the rest of the females still had around their necks. “It will take some time, but physically she will recover. Her mental and emotional recovery is an altogether different matter.”
“And them?” a finger pointed at the two sleeping teenagers.
“They…” Ororo glanced at the two girls, huddled together under their twin grey blankets, more for a feeling of safety than for body heat. “They are afraid.”
“We all are,” he said *matter-of-factly*.

“How are you?” Ororo asked after a long silence.
“I’ll live,” he answered flatly. ‘…I always do’ was its silent completion.
“I’m sorry,” Logan furrowed his temple at her apology.
“Sorry? Fer?”
“For how they are treating you,” Ororo’s usual honey smooth voice sounded tired from repeated crying and lack of rest. She had taken up first vigil, instructing the younger x-women to get as much rest as possible.
“Nothin’ new” Logan dismissed her. “I’m just a dick that they need,” he tried to lighten the mood with a crude remark, hoping that Ororo would cut him off as she usually did.
“Anyway….they’re just getting’ started with me. They’re gonna celebrate my birthday” he spat out the offending words, a rueful smile on his face.

“Birthday?” Ororo slid towards the cell bars, trying to reduce the distance between them, permitting them to converse without the chance of disturbing either the injured mutant or the sleeping girls.
“Yeah,” was the dejected reply as he leaned back on one side of the cage, his profile towards Ororo.
“Did they tell you that?”
Logan just grunted his answer. “Cornelius”
“They….” A new comprehension dawned on her face. “They were the one who….”
“…did this” Logan completed by raising his right hand and unsheathing three nine-inch metal claws.

“Logan…” she asked. “How old are you?”

Letting out a defeated sigh, Wolverine turned towards her.

“Hundred and fourteen”

----

“How are our subjects?” Cornelius asked his assistant, coming to stand behind her.
“Normal, doctor,” the bespectacled blonde-haired woman answered.
“Good…” responded Cornelius, as he snaked a hand around her shoulder, lightly rubbing the back of her neck with his thumb. “Ms. Brickman, you are excused from duty. Get some rest.”
“Yes sir,” answered Mallory Brickman.
Standing up from her observation station, she turned to face the wrinkled face of the head scientist, her five foot ten frame towering four inches over him, her four-inch heel making the difference even more pronounced.
“Time?” she looked down at him, a seductive smile playing on her full, ruby red lips.
“Ten” he grinned at her. “I’ll be read and waiting.”
Nodding her head, Mallory walked towards the door leading to the staff quarters.

----

“Hundred and fourteen,” Ororo gasped, her eyes widening at the shock of the words she had just heard. She knew that Logan was old, his healing factor slowing down his aging process.
When he had first come to the mansion, Jean had speculated that he might be as old as or even older than Professor Xavier himself. But….a hundred and fourteen years. That made him almost twice as old as what they had previously theorized.
“Are you sure?” she asked softly.

“That’s what Cornelius said,” his head dropped to his chest. “And now they are celebrating it.”
“Celebrating….how?” inquired Ororo, a sinking feeling in her heart.
Glancing back her, Logan smiled a humorless smile. “Beating, Electrocuting, Shooting, Acid, Fire….take yer pick. One each for every year….and they have completed four years as yet.”
“Goddess” Ororo’s mouth fell open at the horror of his situation. ‘Four’ she thought, tears appearing in her eyes. That meant….another hundred and ten tortures he would have to suffer from them.

“Logan….” She called out to him. Her hand extending through the metal bars, trying to reach out and comfort him.

Logan just dropped his hand by his side, his claws still sticking out, his eyes tightly shut as he tried to bring himself under control.

“Ororo…” he started a little while later. His voice barely above a whisper, “I need ta tell ya somethin’. Come closer.”
Nodding her head, Ororo turned sideways and stuck her face along the metal bars, her ear sticking out towards him, straining to catch his words.

“We’re not alone….”

----

“I’ve been waitin’ fer ya,” Sabertooth grunted as the woman entered the dark room. Her room.

Mallory smirked as the shaggy feral stepped out of the shadows and came towards her.
Gripping her arm, he turned her around and slammed her into the now closed door.

“Didn’t you get enough from the X-slut,” she cooed softly as he pushed into her, rubbing her hard erection against her back.
“I never get enough,” he growled at her ear, his hot tongue snaking out to taste her.

“Hmmm....” she wiggled a little, feeling him through the lab coat and her uniform. “Looks like you are ready. How do you want it?”
“Just like this,” he answered, his hands rising to take off the coat. “On the bed” he ordered, pushing her towards the queen-sized bed.

“The black bitch,” he commanded, smirking as her eyes flashed yellow as her form began to change.

----

“Mystique…” Ororo whispered the name of redheaded blue-skinned shape-shifter.
Logan had just revealed that he had sensed her presence in the base. “Do you know whom she is impersonating?”
“Na,” Logan shook his head. “I got her stench when Creed was…uh…when he was here. But couldn’t place her form. But she’s here.”

“Hmmm…” Ororo mused chewing on her lower lip. “What do we do?”
“We stay shut,” Logan ran a hand over his face, trying to rub the frustration away. “…and find a way outta here.”

----

“Storm?” Mystique raised an eyebrow at Sabertooth. “I thought you’d like someone different….” She trailed off as she changed into Wolverine. “…like me ya overgrown hairball…or me,” her pitch changed as Wolverine morphed into a petite Asian girl with yellow overcoat. “I know how much you like small girls,” Mystique-Jubilee pouted at him.
“The black one,” Sabertooth growl deeper this time. “Now. And on all fours.”

“Ok” Mystique-Jubilee shrugged her shoulders, winking at him as she lifted onto her knees, her form changing to grow larger, her skin darker, her body fuller until Storm was kneeling on the center of the bed. Turning around, she lowered herself onto all fours. “Like this?” she looked back at him, her blue eyes slightly clouding over.

“Lose the clothes,” Creed grunted. Taking off his own overcoat, he started undressing, watching as Storm’s flowing uniform disappeared, leaving her completely naked and exposed to him, her round backside staring right in his face.

“Goddess,” Mystique-Storm imitated the real one. “Fuck me Victor. Fuck me now.”

Grinning at her, the now naked Sabertooth, stalked to the bed. Placing one hand on her hip, he soundly struck it with the other.

“GOD….yes Victor,” Mystique-Storm cried out in her own voice. “Do it again.”
“Her voice,” he reminded her of her current form, punishing her mistake with another hard slap across her mocha colored skin.
“Uhnnn…” Mystique-Storm jerked forward. “Again….”

Smiling at her debauched behavior, Victor started spanking her earnestly, his *disciplining* exciting her and raising cries of, ‘Goddess’, ‘Again…’, ‘Harder’, ‘More…’ from her.

Finally stopping, he appraised his handiwork. Running his sharp claws over the now raw skin, he got fresh moans of pleasurable from her.
Grasping her long white locks, he yanked them hard, pulling her head to him. “Gonna fuck ya….” he licked along her smooth cheek. “…right up the shitter.”
“Yessss…,” she groaned in arousal. “Get it wet first.”

Drawing back, he grasped his shaft in one hand, steadying her body with the other. Leaning forward he rubbed the swollen tip of his erection along her sopping wetness, lubricating it before pushing past her folds to fill her with a sudden and forceful thrust, causing her to jerk forward yet again her hands slipping along the plain white bed cover.

Even as she was recovering from his initial intrusion, he brought his hand up and inserted the first three fingers into his mouth, using his saliva to lubricate them. The next instant they were out and he was pushing his index finger into her dark puckered anus, feeling its tight muscles grip at him.
“Oh Goddess,” Mystique-Storm moaned at the thick digit enter her from behind. “More…put in more….” The false-goddess begged him.

Gradually more fingers joined the single one as he stretched her apart, all the while pounding into her other hole with his throbbing erection.
“Now Vic, now” Mystique-Storm begged. Her voice cracking once again. A hint of her true self slipping through. “Change now.”

Sliding out of her wetness, he brought his cock to where his fingers were entering her. The next moment, he withdrew his fingers, a popping sound announcing their exit, only to be followed by her muffled cry as she gritted her teeth as he started pushing at her still tight asshole.

Pushing herself back onto him, she hastened his entry into her rear channel. There was no gentleness between them, no love, no emotions except want. Everything was rough. He was using her, just as he had done countless times, to fulfill his fantasy of possessing and humiliating yet another x-woman. She in turn, was simply enjoying the rough sexual experience, passing her time until she had to go and service the wrinkled old scientist.

His thrusts were growing harder, rougher, as her muscles moved to accommodate his thickness. Her moans and whimpers signaling her approaching climax. Her submissive position and sounds driving him towards his own.

Rising on his heels, he placed his hands on her shoulders. Putting in one last burst, he pushed both of them over the edge. As she began bucking against him, her body seemed to go into convulsions, her moans growing louder, causing him to push her head into the mattress to stifle the sounds.
Moments later, he reached his own climax. Pushing deeper into her slick channel, he stilled as he began to erupt into her, his mouth coming to clamp down on the flawless skin of her shoulder, his long canines breaking the skin and drawing blood into his mouth.

Feeling his energy taper off, he collapsed, pinning her under his bulk, their bodies a writhing mass of skin, sweat and bodily secretions, the musky smell of sexual release lingering in the air around them.

----

“Storm…” Logan called out to his teammate.
A few feet away, Ororo was slumped over, her body still twisted in the position she had been sitting in.
“Ororo….” his voice grew louder. “….Ororo.”

“Huh…” Ororo opened her eyes, straightening herself back into the sitting position along the cell wall. Rubbing her eyes with the bottom of her palm, she looked across the cell bars.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that,” she apologized; her voice husky with sleep.
“Lie down and go ta sleep,” he tried to soften his rough tone.
“I am fine,” she tried to reason.
“No, yer not,” he dismissed her. “Yer tired and need sleep. And Stacy is gonna be fine.”
“How…” she began.
“Her heartbeat is strong and she’s breathin’ fine.”
“Oh, Ok”
“So…” he arched an eyebrow. “Sleep”

Nodding her head, Ororo got to her knees to crawl to the mattress where Kitty and Jubilee were sleeping.
“Logan,” he looked up at her from his bed, which he had pulled from its previous position and set up near the bars. It gave him a clear view of the corridor door and allowed him to be near his teammates.

“When they come…” she spoke softly, her voice steeled with resolve. “When they come for us. If we are still here, I want you to take me first.”
“’Roro, we will…..” he started, but stopped at her raised hand.

“Promise me,” she locked eyes with him. “Promise me.”

“I Promise.”
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