Penny Parker: Spider Reborn

The weeks after the permanence diagnosis settled into a fragile calm—a new normal that almost felt like peace. She spent hours in the danger room, testing the red-and-black suit’s limits: precise pheromone bursts that dropped training dummies to their knees, emitters humming as she learned to control the feedback loop. Each controlled blast felt like stealing back a piece of herself. Logan was always there, leaning against the wall with arms crossed, growling soft warnings when she pushed too far and the heat crept back in.

One quiet evening in the common room, the team gathered like a pack—Storm brewing tea, Gambit shuffling cards idly, Jean reading nearby, Logan nursing a beer. The conversation turned light, teasing, to something she’d been avoiding: a name.

She sat curled on the couch, blanket over her legs, still feeling like an intruder in her own skin. “I can’t keep thinking of myself as… him. But nothing fits.”

Gambit grinned. “How ‘bout ‘Queen of de Web’? Rolls off de tongue.”

Storm swatted his arm lightly. “Be serious.”

Jean smiled softly. “Something strong. Grounded.”

Logan grunted from his spot beside her, beer paused halfway to his mouth. “Penny,” he said gruffly. “Simple. Strong. Like you.”

She tested it quietly: Penny Parker. It clicked—roots in the old name, but fresh. A small smile broke through. “Penny,” she whispered. “Yeah. I like that.”

The room warmed with quiet approval—Jean’s gentle nod, Storm’s serene smile, Gambit’s wink. Logan ruffled her hair once, rough but affectionate. For a moment, everything felt good.

Then the alerts shattered it.

The war room screens flared to life—emergency broadcasts overriding every channel. Dominion: a telekinetic god-complex in gleaming stolen vibranium armor, powers amplified to terrifying levels by a glowing cosmic artifact embedded in his chest plate. He could crush buildings with a thought, pin armies mid-stride, redirect energy blasts back at their sources. Footage rolled in relentless loops: Avengers Tower crumpling like paper under invisible force—Captain America’s shield flung away, Iron Man’s repulsors crushed inward before Tony fell into coma. Thor’s hammer frozen mid-swing, lightning reversed into his own body. Black Widow and Hawkeye suspended helpless in the air, weapons snapped like twigs.

He’d taken down half the Avengers in minutes—effortless, almost bored. Now he was coming for mutants.

Logan’s claws slid out fully. “Bastard’s a walking apocalypse.”

Storm’s eyes darkened, lightning flickering at her fingertips. “He wants to break us. All of us.”

Gambit charged a card, kinetic energy humming. “Den we break him first.”

She stared at the screens—Dominion floating above the rubble, voice booming worldwide: “Surrender, or be broken.”

They holed up in Brooklyn warehouse ruins as Dominion closed in. The team struck first—rushing out in a fierce, coordinated surge. Storm summoned hurricane winds laced with lightning, whipping debris into a deadly vortex. Gambit hurled charged cards in rapid volleys, explosions blooming against the vibranium like fireworks. Logan charged with feral roars, claws slashing for joints and seams.

But Dominion barely flinched. He raised one hand, and an invisible tidal wave of force slammed into them all at once—crushing pressure pinning Storm to the ground, Gambit’s body locked rigid mid-throw, Logan frozen mid-leap with claws extended inches from armor. Telekinetic bonds wrapped around them like iron chains, squeezing the air from their lungs, holding them helpless in agonizing suspension.

“Pathetic,” Dominion sneered, descending slowly. “Your resistance ends here.”

Penny watched from the shadows, heart hammering. They were trapped—struggling desperately against the unrelenting grip, faces twisted in pain and fury, but unable to move. No choice left.

She stepped forward. “Wait.”

Logan strained against the bonds, veins bulging. “Kid—don’t!”

She activated the suit, emitters glowing. Pheromones surged—targeted, insidious.

She swung out, landing before Dominion. Mask off, hair tumbling, suit unzipping just enough.

“I’m offering myself,” she said, voice low and steady, laced with the first subtle wave. “Take me… and leave them.”

Dominion laughed—deep, triumphant, echoing like thunder. “You think to bargain with me?” His eyes flickered as the pheromones brushed his senses, pupils dilating slightly. Armor shifted; he grabbed her arm in a vise grip, yanking her against his chest plate. “Very well. I’ll break you first—and make them watch.”

He tore at her suit with brutal efficiency, fabric ripping under telekinetic pulls. His mouth crashed down on hers, demanding, conquering. She gasped into it—heat flaring unbidden, body responding as the feedback loop ignited. He spun her roughly, bending her over jagged debris, fingers probing and thrusting into her ass without mercy. The stretch burned like fire; she cried out, hips bucking involuntarily, tears stinging her eyes.

He pounded into her, relentless, taunts spilling like venom: “Beg, spider. Show me how you shatter. You’re nothing—mine to ruin.”

She endured—voice cracking as she played into it, strategy buried under the heat. “More—please—harder—”

He flipped her onto her back amid the rubble, shoving into her pussy—thick, punishing strokes that drove the air from her lungs. She came hard the first time, clenching around him, vision blurring with unwanted pleasure. But she held focus, channeling a stronger pulse through the emitters—subtle, insidious, weaving deeper into his mind.

His rhythm faltered for the first time—a hesitation, a shudder. “What… is this?” he growled, but didn’t stop, thrusting deeper, hands bruising her hips.

She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer despite the ache, emitters humming another layered wave. “You want this,” she whispered, voice gaining edge. “You need me.”

He snarled, pace turning frantic, but his grip loosened fractionally—eyes glazing further. He forced her to her knees next, cock down her throat, gagging her. She took it—teasing with tongue, denying full release, pulsing again. He groaned, hips stuttering.

“More,” he rasped, resistance cracking. “Don’t stop—please—”

She rose slowly, pushing against his chest—testing. He yielded an inch, confusion warring with lust. She pulsed harder, wrapping a web-line around his wrist subtly, pulling him off-balance. “You’re losing control,” she murmured, voice shifting to command. “Admit it.”

He shoved her back down, trying to reclaim dominance—thrusting into her mouth again—but his movements grew desperate, uncoordinated. Another climax ripped through her, but she used it—riding the feedback to flood him with the strongest wave yet.

He pulled out, staggering, armor creaking as telekinetic focus wavered. “I… need…”

“Beg for it,” she commanded, standing over him now, emitters at peak. She straddled him, guiding him inside her pussy again—controlling the pace, slow and torturous.

“Please,” he groaned, hands clutching her hips not to dominate, but to hold on. “Mistress—more—I can’t—”

She rode him harder, webs binding his arms loosely, pheromones overwhelming. “You’re mine now.”

He broke fully—body arching, eyes wild with adoration. “Yes—mistress—I’m yours. Anything.”

“Surrender,” she ordered, voice unbroken despite the exhaustion. “Release them. Turn yourself in.”

His telekinetic bonds shattered completely—the team dropping free with gasps. “Yes… mistress. All for you.”

SHIELD teams swarmed the warehouse ruins, hauling Dominion away in power-dampening cuffs—his adoring gaze still fixed on the memory of her until the end. Penny barely registered it.

The team rushed forward. Logan reached her first—scooping her into his arms, blanket wrapping her gently. He held her close, carrying her away.

The ride home was silent; Logan carried her the whole way, refusing to let anyone else touch her until they reached the medbay.

Beast took over immediately—gentle hands bandaging cracked ribs, stitching gashes, monitoring vitals with quiet efficiency. Physically, it was brutal: mottled bruises blooming across pale skin, core aching from repeated invasions, throat raw. But the mental toll carved deeper.

That night, in her room, she showered alone—hot water rinsing bruises, remnants, tears. Mind replayed every moment—the violation, the forced pleasure, the hard-won victory.

Soft knock. Gambit slipped in, sitting silently.

She emerged, towel-wrapped. “I feel dirty. Like I let him win.”

He stood, arms open. “You won, chère. Saved us all.”

She stepped into his embrace—no heat, just held. His hand stroked her hair.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered. “With us. With me.”

She nodded, tears soaking his shirt. The weight felt shared.

Sleep came—fitful, but real.