If Zebediah Killgrave had ever been happier than he was at the moment, he would have been hard-pressed to come up with an example.
He had been intrigued at Gambit's offer to team up, and any fears of this being a trap or LeBeau's intentions had been wiped away the second the cajun's tip had essentially hand-delivered him Psylocke and The White Queen, both now warped by their own and each other's powers to believe that they were literal whores in the service of Gambit and The Purple Man, bound to use their bodies and powers to help build the single greatest stable of women imaginable. But even as he and Gambit had talked business while taking use of Emma and Betsy, The Purple Man hadn't allowed himself to believe things would go so well.
A scant few hours ago, Frost - still loathing Killgrave, but no longer capable of even considering disobeying - had brought him to the Avengers Mansion pretending to be captured. His original plan had been to insert himself as a trojan horse depending on who had been on duty, but finding only The Wasp and Captain Marvel, he had quickly escalated things. Unaware that Emma had been turned and thus blindsided by her powers and Killgrave's own, Wasp and Captain Marvel were easily subdued, their defenses lowered and coaxed into leading The Purple Man into the Mansion, locking it down behind them, and taking them to the Avengers' very meeting room, where he now had the two of them and the White Queen. The initial plan had called for subtlety, to slowly undermine as many of the Avengers as he could to lower their defenses and set things up for future plans. But now he had the freedom and time to work, and Killgrave considered himself quite the artist, prepared to use his and Emma's powers as his tools and the minds of The Wasp and Captain Marvel as his twisted canvas.
He had started with The Wasp, figuring she would be the easier target, but he honestly had no idea how easy she would be. Killgrave largely knew Janet Van Dyne as the functionary leader of The Avengers, always on TV for one reason or another, either to brag about some victory or to show off her latest fashion line. He had always pegged Wasp as a vapid, fame-hungry celebrity who saw crimefighting as a means to an end, and that was how he had remolded her, directing Emma to use her powers to remove any sense of heroics and duty from Janet's mind, ramping up her innate interest in the media and completely subverting it, making her yearn for fame. A "starfucker", that was what he had kept calling her and had Emma burn into her mind, and that was literally the only thought she was allowed to have as Killgrave placed her back-first onto the team conference table, her head hanging down, as he proceeded to fuck the "public face" of The Avengers, an idea which made him laugh.
In truth, few non-telepaths would have had a prayer against the combined assault of Frost and Killgrave, but The Purple Man had his mind made up about Wasp a long time ago, and he sneered at how pathetically quickly he felt Janet had folded, accepting her new mental as a very literal famewhore, turned on at the thought of being the center of attention, especially at the thought of being on camera. Like the others, Janet would serve whoever she was ordered to serve, but now she was impossibly turned on by the idea of giving herself to the rich and the famous, a kind of mixed media exhibitionist with zero morality or self-control as long as it drew more attention to her.
Captain Marvel, however, had been a different story altogether.
Killgrave truly hated to admit it, but even a twisted bastard like himself was actually impressed by Carol Danvers and her iron resolve. His powers, amped by Emma, had put her into enough of a daze to let him in, and with either of their powers alone, he could have easily had his way with her. But The Purple Man was thinking big now, and actually perverting her, altering her mind on the scale that they had done to Wasp, seemed impossible. Captain Marvel, as far he could tell, had zero mental abilities beyond some kind of weird sixth sense - a lot of good that had done her- but her willpower was truly extraordinary. It wasn't until, on the verge of giving up, he had Frost dig deep in Danvers' mind where he finally found the key, a weakness, buried deep: a terrible addiction to alcohol, which he'd immediately pounced on. Using Emma to practically control her like a puppet, Killgrave had forced Captain Marvel to drink as heavily as a freshman at her first frat party, and as he had hoped, a crack finally appeared in her emotional armor. It was all Killgrave had needed.
Now, he had thrown Danvers onto the conference table across from Wasp, Janet's head still dangling off the table where Killgrave had left her.
"This costume is gone, of course," Killgrave announced, peeling Captain Marvel's flight-suit like costume down to her waist, revealing her superhumanly incredible breasts. "One thing's for sure: you're out of the role model business for good, Cap. Well, maybe a different kind of role model..."
Recovered from his thorough assault of Wasp's mouth and furious at how long it had taken him to finally get Danvers to a place where he could remold her, The Purple Man was more than ready to go again. Climbing across the conference table himself, Killgrave straddled her chest and squeezed her tits around his cock, before thinking better of it. "What am I doing? This is your job now. Put that rack of yours to work, soldier." Hopelessly drunk, under assault by Killgrave's pheromones and her mind forced open by The White Queen, she complied instantly, wrapping her tits around Killgrave's purple dick as he began furiously pumping away.
"Ha!" Killgrave yelled, throwing both fists out triumphantly. "Titfucking Captain Marvel on the damn Avengers conference table! Now we're talking! This! Is! Fucking! Fantastic!" He looked back over his shoulders at Wasp and snapped his fingers, causing her to raise her head. "You, Wasp, Van Dyne. First thing I want you to do when we're done here is get cleaned up and then go and get a set of tits like these. Some real, A-Grade Hollywood tits. Best money can buy." Wasp nodded dully, and The Purple Man turned his attention back to Captain Marvel, grabbing her short hair and pulling her face up so she was staring directly at his purple head as it plowed through her cleavage.
"Now, you, Ms. Danvers," he grunted, motioning Emma over to the table beside him. "What, oh what, should we do to you?"
*****
Across town, in a seedy apartment used as a flophouse, Psylocke was busy. Gambit had turned her over two corrupt cops, Al Walsh and Bill Bishop. Both had been on the take for years, highly placed NYPD detectives who had grown fat and lazy on the take from the likes of The Kingpin or The Rose or whoever happened to be running crime in New York at the moment. Their ambitions were low, but given their connections, it would normally take a lot to buy their services - drugs, money, a lot of both. Gambit had offered them something better in the form of Psylocke.
"So...so we're really gonna do this, Bill?" Walsh asked, very out of breath as he tried to keep up with the athletic, limber Betsy, who was bent over as Walsh held one of her legs up and thrust in and out.
"Are you fucking kiddin' me, Walsh?" The fatter, older Bishop was content for now with Psylocke using her expert oral skills, sucking away as he sat lazily back in a rickety kitchen chair. "When have you ever had an offer like this, pal? This Cajun guy is for real. I mean, look at what we're doing!"
Balanced on one leg in the center of some rundown apartment, costume mostly still on, while Walsh ineptly fucked her from behind and she went down on Bishop, Psylocke was indeed a hell of a sight. If she'd thought back just a day or two, the idea of a physical specimen such as herself being used by these two corrupt slobs would have been unfathomable to Betsy. But Gambit had told her to do it, so she did, turning herself out for the next phase of Remy's plan. As for the cops, they had initially been wary of Gambit and his business proposition, but the offer of Psylocke had won them over. Neither man had ever been with anyone even remotely close to the standards of the purple haired mutant goddess LeBeau had presented them with for the afternoon as a downpayment for their services, and Psylocke hadn't even had to use her powers on either man like she had the agent earlier. These two were scumbags, and the thought of fucking Psylocke was more than enough to hear Gambit out and sign on his team.
"You---" Bishop was breathing heavily, just about at his limit as Psylocke expertly suck him off. "You...you got the connections on the force. I got the connections on the city council. All we gotta do if we wanna be..what'd he call it?"
"Knights," Walsh mumbled, clearly exhausted and about at his limit as well. "Uh, Hellfire Knights?"
"Yeah...all we gotta do is get this guy and his people into The Baxter Building and brother...we are fucking set."