Scott blinked and tried to rub his eyes...but found his hands were bound. He was wearing his glasses (thank goodness for small favors) and looked blearily about him. He was on a large, comfortable fourposter bed...but his wrists and ankles were tied to the posts in a spread eagle position. That was part of his confusion...but the rest...

 

   "Vell, I for von knew my dah-ling Scott vould nevar leave his be-loved Lola without saying gutt bye." said another voice, and a small, soft hand encircled his impressive penis. He flinched, then moaned as delicate, feminine fingers tipped with long, perfect nails stroked up and down his stiffening manhood, and the woman (who sort of sounded like Zsa Zsa Gabor, and also sounded...kind of familiar.

 

   "Well, if he's in th' mood fer fuckin', I'm jus' th' dirty kunt he's been dreamin' bout. Once he get's a look at these big, fuckin' juggs he's gonna wanna ride 'em." said a third voice. Similarly familiar, this voice also sounded classless, charmless, graceless and vulgar as heck

 

   Wait! It was coming back to him. Cerebro...the circus...a shadowy figure...

 

   "Jean!" he screamed, and as he did so...his vision cleared and he saw...saw...oh, gods he saw...

 

   The woman before his was black as midnight, built like a brick house, and sporting a gigantic afro that had been teased and sculpted into a great, black ball the enclosed her head. Her face was bluntly 'African' in appearance, with big lips and a broad, flat nose. Swinging golden earrings and flashing golden teeth...glittering golden eye shadow, blush and wet, red lipstick...her costume that of the classic 'Phoenix', save that instead of green or red...it was black. Glittering golden belt, hip boots and opera gloves accentuated the black single leotard...which clung like a second skin to her huge, swaying breasts, wide hips and full, bouncy bottom. She had been Jean Grey, but now...

 

   "Das 'Genie Black', Scotty baby...but mos' folks jus' calls meh de 'Black Phoenx'. We been holdin' up in dis motel fo three days while you worked yo shit out. You wuz awl "Somethin's wrong wit yo bitches" an "Mesmero gotta change yo' back" an' me and mah gurls wuz awl "Whut de fuck?"

 

   The second figure was in some small way still Logan, but he was tiny, slim and positively girlish in his over the top femininity...yet his smooth, soft and hairless body lacked breasts. His long, swan-like neck sported an adam's apple, and between his sexy legs was a tiny, underdeveloped penis and balls. His hair was a shining, silvery waterfall of thick, wavey curls that tumbled down his back to his knees. He smiled, obviously delighted he was awake, and he encircled his waist with both his tiny arms. 

 

  "Oh, Scotty...you 'ave zuch a...'ow you zay, 'beeg deeck'. You are zuch a mahn, Scotty! Lola...he want to feel zat beeg deek deep in he's tiny bumhole. You are vanting to fuck Lola, no? You are vant to fuck ze cute leetle Mink?"

 

   The third woman rasped out a throaty, smokey cough that suggested a whiskey and cigarettes, and she slipped a fresh cigarette between her bloated, collagen-inflated lips. Her face thick with makeup, bleached blond hair teased up and out, and her spray tanned body was barely covered with a skimpy red top, black leather miniskirt, fishnet stockings and red, six-inch heels. Her fingers were vandalised with 2-inch long, glittery red nails and cheap rings. Golden hoops and shiny red balls dangled from here ears. Flashy necklaces...clattering bracelets...and the biggest set of fake breasts he'd ever seen. Massive globes that dwarfed her head and were balanced by thrusting, bulbous buttocks. She was a walking advertisement for both cheap sex AND the horrors of plastic surgery. From her muddled, mascara framed eyes glinted not a drop of her former genius.

 

   "Aw, th' fuckin' Boy Scout doin' wanna fuck yer butt, yuh lil' boi whore. An' he don' wanna fuck th' nigger either. He wants t' ride a REAl woman. Someone who's sucked a million dicks in a million alleys an' knows jus' whut a man needs." said the foul, drunken whore Kitty Pryde had become. "Trus' meh, he's a bad boy, an' he needs a bad girl..like th' Alley Katt."

 

   Scott was trying to sort out his confused memories, when Jean (or rather Genie) sat down and stroked his chest. "Sorry, Alley Katt...but dis man ain' fo' jus' one of us. Look at him. Awl scared an' confused. He needs awl three of us to set him straight." Scott started to speak again, his head filled with questions, but Lola snuggled up to him...Genie kissed his tired mouth...and Alley Katt flashed a vulgar wink as she took his dick in her mouth...