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I wrote this story as an X-Men fanfic commission! Thanks to the commissioner for contributing many of these ideas.

Before starting my X-Men knowledge was rusty as hell so I hope the characters feel right. It's a mixture of comic books, movies and even a bit of MCU. I'll post it a few chapters at a time until the whole thing is on this thread. I hope you all like it. All characters are adults, of course.

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Staring into the mirror, she still didn’t know how to feel about what she saw: long, red hair flowing over each shoulder; eyes that seemed deep as a well; a face that was starting to grow aged prematurely by the weight of experience. Most women wouldn’t have such sombre thoughts while waiting for a free stall in a bathroom, but Jean Grey was not most women. 

 

She had never been much good at waiting. Particularly, it had to be said, waiting for the toilet. The issue had only gotten worse as the the X-Mansion grew busier, and since the academy had hit capacity it had been harder than ever to find a spare cubicle in a tight spot. It irritated Jean that she was stuck in a line to do something as trivial as emptying her bladder, especially when she had places to be. Her class was in five minutes and while her need to pee wasn’t pressing yet, Jean knew from experience that she would regret it if she didn’t go before the lesson started. So there she stood, tapping her foot impatiently. The next stall would be hers soon and she could rid herself of the weight in her bladder and be on her way.

 

The door swung open. Usually, Jean wouldn’t take any notice, but the violent force with which it moved caught her attention. She turned and was surprised to see Storm, who Jean had almost never seen in a bathroom of any kind before. She looked out of breath.

 

“Jean, there you are,” Storm said with evident relief, “I’ve been looking for you. I have something important to show you”. Jean was taken by surprise, and it took her a few seconds to digest what was going on. She gestured towards the toilet cubicles, all of which had been occupied for several minutes now. From the smells in the room, it wasn’t hard to guess why.

 

“Can it wait?” Jean asked, hoping she was hinting sufficiently that she needed to use the bathroom, “I mean, is it… urgent?”

 

“It’s pretty big, Jean. You’re going to want to see this”. 

 

Jean didn’t want to push the matter any further- she couldn’t without giving away that she had to pee, which was something she was still embarrassed to admit to other people. So she gave up and followed Storm out of the bathroom. She practically had to jog to keep up with the other woman as they dashed through the maze of corridors towards the ground-floor medical ward. They breezed through the security and into the restricted section. When, finally, they arrived outside of a guarded room, Storm simply nodded in the direction of the tiny square window on the door. 

 

“Just tell me what’s in there,” Jean demanded. She wasn’t in the mood for games. But Storm was insistent.

 

“See for yourself,” she said.

 

So Jean peered into the room, which was empty but for a single figure on a bed- a man, she realised. He looked badly beaten and bruised, but otherwise unremarkable. For a while Jean wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be looking at… then the penny dropped. She gasped.

 

“Is that who I think it is?”

 

“David Haller,” Storm confirmed, “Legion”. Jean could see it now, clear as day- beneath the bruising was a young-looking man, the son of Charles Xavier. “Scott brought him in this morning, Professor’s orders. It’s all being kept quiet for now, if you don’t mind…”

 

For a few seconds, Jean was transfixed. One of the most dangerous people on the planet captured and locked in a room in the Mansion was the last thing she’d expected that day. Soon, though, she snapped out of it.

 

“I can’t deal with this right now,” she muttered, “I have a class to teach. We’ll discuss this later”. With that, she turned on the spot and marched back towards the room where she was supposed to be teaching in (she checked her watch) less than two minutes. Well, no pee break for me, she thought bitterly. Whether it was the speed that Storm had made her walk or the shock of seeing David, her need to urinate had only increased over the last few minutes. But she never liked to be late for a class, so she walked right past the bathroom and into the next door along.

 

Her students for the day were already there, peppered across the desks in a mismatched fashion. Dani Moonstar had a front-row seat, books and stationary already out and ready on her table. A few spaces away, looking considerably less studious, sat Laura Kinney. Laura had always been a bit of a loner, not unlike her father- she seemed to prefer sitting in the corner. The rest of the class was made up of the three they called the Stepford Cuckoos- Celeste, Mindee and Phoebe- and a quiet new girl Jean only knew as Kelly. At the back of the room, Emma Frost was perched on a plastic chair. She wasn’t thrilled to be there, but Professor X had insisted that she sat in on a few classes and observed Jean’s teaching.

 

As she greeted her class of six, Jean was starting to worry about the pressure in her bladder. An hour-long class was a long time to hold it, and she couldn’t just nip out in the middle to pee. After all, she prided herself on professionalism. That meant her only real option was to grit her teeth, cross her legs and hope it didn’t grow too urgent while she taught. Silently, she cursed Storm for interrupting her bathroom break, even though it was for a good reason.

 

"Okay, girls, today's class: advanced telepathy," Jean began, hoping that she could make it through the whole session without any of her students realising her predicament. It was going to be a long hour.

 

—————————————————————————————————————————————

 

He didn’t move. He didn’t talk. He barely even breathed. A casual observer would’ve been forgiven for thinking he had died, but as he stared into the distance with unblinking eyes, David Haller was very much alive. Every square inch of his stiffly body ached, and yet his mind had never been more active. They had come back- the voices in his head, back again, not that he could be surprised. They were always there. Sometimes quiet, sometimes loud, always thirsty for power over one another. They wanted revenge. Nobody captured Legion without being made to pay. Still, though, there was the calmer voice, the voice of David himself. The true David had no wish to harm the people in his father’s school. That voice was holding on, just barely. But the other voices were louder. So killing them was out of the question, perhaps, but there were still plenty of ways that revenge could be tasted. The guard that looked in through the window that morning would have no way of knowing anything had changed. It was perfect.

 

David Haller focused his mind and got to work.

 

Directly above, Kitty Pryde was barely out of bed. A weekday with no morning classes was a rare blessing, she reflected, and one to be cherished above all. She would gladly have stayed under the sheets longer but, as it always did on mornings when she was allowed a lie-in, her body had other ideas. Kitty always had to pee every morning and go number two every other morning, like clockwork, and today was no different- she hadn’t pooped the previous day, either. So she was forced to get up to go quieten the growing needs in her abdomen. 

 

Once she’d selected something comfortable to wear- today it was a tight-hugging pink top and black leggings- she phased through her usual spot opposite her bed that she knew would take her right out into the common room. Sometimes being able to walk through walls was a life-saving power. On mornings like this, though, it saved her a few extra steps, and sometimes Kitty thought that that was almost as good. 

 

Magma, who was sitting in an armchair reading a book, didn’t even look up. The girls who shared this wing of the accommodation with Kitty had grown so used to her phasing that it was more or less a nonoccurence- at least for most of them. It still made Megan (who everyone called Pixie) jump every single time, as she did this morning, almost spilling her orange juice.

 

“Good morning,” came a singsong voice from across the room. The speaker was Jubilee, who was stretched out across the sofa in a scarlet tank top. Her trademark yellow jacket hung loosely over one arm of the seat; it was far too hot even at this hour to wear something so big. She was in a chirpy mood, although this wasn’t anything new. Her smile was infectious.

 

“Morning,” Kitty replied, rolling her shoulders back to stretch them out, “I can’t believe I’m actually the last one up”.

 

“Not quite,” Magma pointed out. She was smouldering- figuratively and kind of literally. “Rogue’s still in her room”.

 

“I thought she had a class?”

 

“Cancelled,” Magma said, sounding like she couldn’t care less.

 

“Ah. Well, if you see her, I’ll be in the bathroom. I gotta pee like a racehorse,” Kitty said, which made Pixie giggle as usual. She started heading to the small corridor which led to the girls’ shared bathroom.

 

“Where are you going?” Jubilee asked. Kitty frowned; she didn’t have time for trick questions. She just wanted to sit down for her morning dump in peace.

 

“I just said, bathroom,” she reiterated. Jubilee was looking at her like she was stupid. She pointed a helpful arm towards the door that would take Kitty downstairs and out into the main school. Kitty was getting impatient by now, not least because she really had to fart and didn’t want to do it in front of Magma. 

 

“The bathroom’s down there, Kitty,” Jubilee said. While Kitty still had no idea what Jubilee’s game was, she didn’t much want to wait around and find out. They all knew that Kitty always woke up desperate, so she thought Jubilee was being a bit cruel teasing her like this. She turned instead towards the corridor.

 

“Why would I use that one when I can just use the one up here-“ but Kitty froze in her tracks then, and the words got caught in her throat, because what she was seeing was surely not possible. It had to be some kind of vivid dream. 

 

There was no corridor. Where the small opening leading to the toilet had always been, instead there was now just blank wall, blended perfectly in with the rest of the architecture. If a new student had wandered in at this exact moment, they would never have guessed that there had ever been a bathroom in the dorm at all. And yet Kitty knew there was a bathroom there. She’d hobbled down it to relieve herself every morning and tinkled in it every night before bed ever since she’d arrived at the X-Mansion. Finally remembering to breathe again, Kitty rushed to the flat wall and placed a hand on the surface. 

 

“Kitty, what are you doing?”Pixie asked. It had to be a group prank, Kitty thought, because now Pixie was in on it too. Only Pixie wasn’t much of an actor, and the confusion in her voice sounded very real. 

 

“What are you talking about?” Panic and frustration was growing in Kitty’s voice. If it wasn’t a prank, why was she the only one acting like anything was up? “I’m talking about the corridor that’s been here for years leading to the bathroom”.

 

The three girls were all looking at her now, and there was genuine worry in their eyes. That was when it hit Kitty how serious this was- they all think I’ve gone mad, she realised. Reality had been altered and only she even knew it. The thought of it terrified her.

 

Kitty farted then. She felt it come out, but she couldn’t stop it. Fear had gripped her. She couldn’t explain what had happened or why, but she knew one thing: something very dangerous was going on.

 

—————————————————————————————————————————————————

 

“Keep your voices down,” May whispered, poking her head into an empty classroom before ushering her colleagues inside. Jemma Simmons was first through the door, looking around with piqued curiosity at the science displays on the walls. Of course, being a genius biochemist, she was far more advanced than the level of your typical American school, but the nerd in her still liked to look. Then again, the X-Mansion wasn’t a normal school.

 

Jemma noticed Natasha Romanoff roll her eyes as she pushed past May and in. It was pretty obvious that Natasha felt overqualified to be bossed around by May- a feeling that, to be fair, was probably accurate. But she was a professional, so she allowed the hierarchy to play out naturally. Black Widow was there on a purely advisory capacity. She’d been drafted in last minute at the request of Nick Fury himself, who felt that her experience- and possibly combat skills, if things got nasty- could be valuable. Melinda May was still in charge of operations, while Maria Hill had come along as Fury’s closest representative. Jemma was an essential part of the team, being the one by far the most likely to understand their target’s biological workings, but right now she felt like she was just tagging along. She was mainly concerned about her bladder, which she would usually have emptied by now, but they’d been bundled into the chopper on a tight time limit.

 

Their mission was pretty simple on paper and incredible dangerous in practice. An inside source had tipped them off that the volatile and unpredictable David Haller, AKA Legion, had been captured and bought to the building early that morning on behalf of Professor Charles Xavier, his father. Rumour was that Xavier wanted to try and help his son, but S.H.I.E.L.D. had other ideas. They believed that Haller was too dangerous and had committed too many awful crimes to be given another chance, and wanted him in custody sharpish. But, Nick Fury being who he was, he’d foreseen that Xavier would predict a move like this from S.H.I.E.L.D, which meant things had to be done… differently. 

 

Sending in the Avengers wasn’t an option. Steve Rogers was a warrior, but he was too honourable- asking him to kidnap a mentally unstable man was like asking Santa Claus to punch a toddler. Tony was off doing God-knows-what and nobody could reach him. Thor had no espionage subtlety whatsoever. Barton wasn’t much good in this situation, Ant-Man wasn’t the kind of guy you would trust with something this delicate and Peter Parker had thought the X-Men were a band. S.H.I.E.L.D. (and Jemma privately agreed) were confident that the Hulk could take on almost any one of the X-Men if necessary, but all of them? That could be too much for even him.

 

So they took a different approach, one that essentially boiled down to three of their best agents sneaking in with one of the world’s greatest spies and capturing Legion. The plan, on paper, made sense. Jemma was carrying a vial of incredibly powerful sedative and a syringe. It wasn’t the greatest scheme they’d ever cooked up, but it had only been six hours since they’d got word of Haller’s capture, and it was crucial that they struck before Xavier got a chance to increase the security around his son. The old man was incredibly smart and kind-hearted, true, but S.H.I.E.L.D. felt that his ideas of rescuing David were little more than sentimental fantasy. They needed to extract David soon.

 

Once everyone had gathered in the room, May shut the door and turned to them. Jemma was sure now that she needed a wee, and planned to bring it up at the earliest opportunity. She knew May wouldn’t be happy, but wetting herself during the mission was sure to attract even more attention.

 

“According to the plans Fury gave us, the medical ward should be on the other side of the building from here. Jemma, are you sure you closed the window?”

 

“Positive,” Jemma replied, not entirely appreciating the patronising tone. Then she stopped to think about it, and frowned. Had she closed the window? She thought so. “I’m ninety-five percent sure,” she amended. May sighed exasperatedly. Nothing could be done about it now. 

 

“Classes have just started, which is perfect for us. Most of the students and teachers will either be in lessons or in the cafeteria getting breakfast, so the corridors should be quiet. Makes it much less likely that we’re going to be asked any questions”.

 

“Jeez, May, you talk like you’ve never broken into a school for mutants before,” Maria said. Like Natasha, she felt she deserved to be in charge and it showed. There wasn’t really time for arguing about it, so the conflict wasn’t going anywhere. May ignored Hill’s comment.

 

“Once we find him, Jemma, you get the injection ready ASAP. Natasha, you’re our best fighter, I want you guarding the door in case anyone tries anything. Maria, I need you in there with me aiming a gun at him at all times. If he’s awake, make sure he knows you’re not afraid to use it”. Nobody said anything to that: while they weren’t happy about the leadership situation, everything May had said made perfect sense and none of them would’ve come up with a much better plan. “Any questions?”

 

“Um, yes,” Jemma piped up, feeling like it was her last chance to ask, “any chance we could sneak into the toilets first? It’s been a really hectic morning and I could really do with a wee”.

 

May looked at her like she was crazy. “No, for Christ’s sake Jemma, we’re not going to postpone our top-secret operation so you can pee! Let’s just get this over with”.

 

Worth a try, Jemma thought to herself, and followed her colleagues back into the hall. 

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Even on a fairly quiet morning when half the students were in classes, the X-Mansion’s cafeteria was still alive with movement. Groups of young mutants were dotted all over the various tables and benches: some playing games, some showing off different powers and abilities, some just talking and joking around. As well as being the canteen, this room was also the social hub of the school, and easily the most popular spot to hang out with friends. If someone in the X-Mansion wasn’t in a class or their dorm, you’d probably find them here. 

 

Hisako Ichiki certainly found herself there on most free mornings, and today was no different. She sat there, picking through a high-fibre bowl of cereal with no real enthusiasm. Armor- as she was known- didn’t think much of the taste, but a bowl of the stuff every morning helped keep her bowel movements regular, which was all she could really ask for from her food. On some days when she really couldn’t bring herself to force down the bran flakes, she would just eat the raisins and dried banana, which was a lot more fun. She usually paid for her laziness with a few days of constipation, but it was worth it.

 

One person who never seemed to have any such issues was Dazzler, who seemed to shovel down whatever she wanted every morning without putting on any weight- or, as far as Armor knew, even getting blocked up. They’d shared a dorm for a long time, and Armor had never known Dazzler to spend more than a few minutes on the toilet. She was a sit, squeeze and done kind of girl. Armor, who regularly had to strain for half an hour just to produce a tiny nugget, had always been quietly envious. Then there was Magik, who was a bit of an enigma. The sorceress was a deeply private person, and never one to talk openly about things like her bathroom habits. She’d arrived at the table in her normal fashion: out of nowhere. It was a rare sight to catch Magik walking around the school.

 

Speaking of bathroom habits, as Armor was sitting there poking at her cereal with a spoon, she was starting to feel a poop coming on. Ordinarily this would be no cause for concern, but Armor’s bowels didn’t work like most. Once she experienced those first twinges, it meant she had a matter of maybe thirty minutes until it was urgent. That didn’t worry Armor- she had had plenty of practice in dealing with her fickle stomach and always knew to make sure she was within a few hundred feet of a bathroom. In fact, she’d mastered the timing down to a tee. If she started to need to go at nine, she’d leave the cafeteria by nine-twenty, be desperate by nine-twenty-five and get on the toilet just in time for everything to slide right out at nine-thirty. On that particular morning, her schedule gave her another fifteen minutes or so before she’d have to take off.

 

As the three of them- who shared a dorm with the three Stepford Cuckoos- sat there, talking and eating breakfast, another trio was drinking coffee on the next table. These three were adults, three of the most revered mutants in the world. Rachel Summers was among the most skilled telepaths the X-Men had, having inherited the abilities from her mother. Rachel was the daughter of Jean Grey, but also not, as far as Armor understood- she’d never asked for the full details. This morning Rachel was looking red-hot in a high-cut green top, even higher black jacket and a tight skirt. Sitting across from her, Betsy Braddock was listening to the conversation with a concerned expression. Psylocke’s violet hair matched her close-hugging purple catsuit, which, Armor reflected, was the kind of outfit that no other school in America would ever allow. Rachel and Betsy were receiving news from Storm, possibly the most respected woman in the building. They were talking in hushed voices- but from where she was sitting, Armor could hear just enough to pick it up. 

 

“… bought in this morning, yeah,” Storm was whispering, “Scott got him, in the end”.

 

“And Professor X thinks he can cure him?” Psylocke asked sceptically. Storm nodded. “That’s crazy talk, if you ask me,” she sighed, “although I guess you can’t blame him for wanting to help his own son”. Armor didn’t like where this was heading. Charles Xavier only had one living kid as far as she knew…

 

“We have to trust him,” Storm nodded, “I know his decisions haven’t always been perfect but the man is a genius. He knows the risks he’s taking”.

 

Rachel shook her head in amazement. She looked like a woman who’d just received some very bad news. Hell, she had. “I just can’t believe Legion is locked up a few rooms away,” she muttered. 

 

Armor felt something drop in her stomach. Suddenly, her bowels felt hot and heavy. If Legion was really in the building, they could all be in a whole lot of danger. She found herself wishing that she’d never overheard the adults at all. Her second thought was that she was going to need to bring forward that trip to the toilet. Her well-rehearsed routine had been majorly disrupted by the shock and fear of what she had just learned. She muttered an excuse to the other girls and got to her feet, but too fast- Armor lost her balance and fell. Instinctively, her exoskeletal shields came up and she didn’t feel the impact of landing at all, but people around her had seen and she was getting some funny looks. At that moment it was hard to care- partly because only she knew that a deadly mutant was a few rooms away, and partly because she was getting more desperate to shit by the second. 

 

Forgetting her cereal entirely, Hisako Ichiki got to her feet and turned to the cafeteria door. 

 

There was just one problem: there was no cafeteria door. 

 

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

 

Danielle Moonstar usually found Jean Grey’s lessons fascinating, but today there was something else holding her attention. Sitting there, listening to the redhead talk about telepathy and the best ways to combat it, it was obvious that Jean needed to use the bathroom. Whether her classmates could tell or not was another matter; Dani had always felt that she paid more attention than them and they might have missed the subtle signs that Dani picked up on so easily. Whether they knew or not, Dani knew, and she was finding it hard to look away. 

 

Of course, at the start she’d tried her best to ignore it. She always strived to be mature, even when it was difficult. What did it matter to her, Dani had told herself, if her teacher needed the toilet? It was only natural, and besides, teachers were surely busy people. She’d probably just not found the time to go this morning, and now was faced with a class on a full bladder. Well, Dani could sympathise with that. She would have needed several extra hands to count the amount of times she’d been caught out in similar circumstances. It was all too easy to slip up like that. A hectic morning was all it took to completely forget to void your bladder or even bowels, and sometimes it could be hours before you’d get the chance to go. Hell, even that day, Dani had got caught up in a book and forgotten to take her morning poop. That was catching up with her now, making her belly rumble ominously.

 

But as the lesson had gone on, Jean’s situation had become harder and harder to politely ignore. The mutant was starting to cross her legs far more than was remotely natural, and moving around the classroom almost constantly. For some teachers that wouldn’t have suggested anything, but Jean wasn’t that kind of lecturer. Usually she would stand or sit stoically in one spot for the vast majority of the class, preferring to deliver her words while stationary. Today was totally different. She was clearly agitated, uncomfortable even. There wasn’t a second that went by when Jean’s thighs weren’t pressed tightly together. Dani wasn’t an idiot: her teacher clearly had to take a leak. The mystery was why Dani was finding it so captivating. It didn’t help that Jean was by no means an unattractive woman, sure, but that didn’t explain how charming Jean’s desperation was to Dani. At one point she felt a fart coming on, no doubt a product of the poop she really should have done that morning. Without taking her eyes off of Jean, Dani lifted one buttcheek just the tiniest amount and let it slip out, as silent as a mouse. 

 

None of them knew or suspected that meanwhile, across the building, David Haller was just getting started. The voices were chiding him, propelling him into darker and more twisted territory. He was still managing to resist- just barely- those pieces of him that wanted blood. To quench their thirst for revenge, he was exacting it in a far more sophisticated way. From the bed to which he was tied, he was still finding new and deviously unexpected methods to alter the reality of the school. A compromise, if you will, he said to himself quietly. 

 

He’d gotten the idea from a conversation two of the voices of Legion had had in his mind years ago. It was simple- if you can’t physically harm a crowd of people, take away something they need. Removing food or water from the equation was out of the question… too obvious. They would never be made to believe that that was the way they had always lived. But if you took away something else, say, a bathroom, well… it wouldn’t be too hard to get inside their heads and make them think that nothing was wrong. And if you took away all of the bathrooms, wouldn’t that be something? 

 

Yes, taking away each and every bathroom would certainly cause enough harm and chaos to satiate the appetite of the multiple psychopaths within David. Within hours they would be scrambling and fighting for… what? That was a puzzle. He needed to give them something to fight over. Perhaps there was a hole in his plan after all. If he took away all the toilets then the inhabitants would just go outside, or find other options. If he left one- just one tiny stall- they would have something to hang on to. They, for the most part, would be too proud not to wait in line for the chance to relieve themselves in a dignified fashion. And once things got too urgent to wait in the line any longer, who knows what low and despicable things they might do to keep their pride?

 

Hell, while he was at it, he might as well speed things up a bit. To fiddle with the girls’ bladders and bowels wouldn’t be difficult. The question was, should he fill their organs up… or shrink them? Both would have the desired effect-

 

Wait up, a voice interrupted, who said anything about girls? Why can’t we make ALL of them suffer?

 

No men, David insisted, barely able to stay in control, if we’re doing this then we do it my way. I don’t want my father affected by… this.  

 

Luckily, this seemed an acceptable deal for Legion. Time, then, to see his victims. David closed his eyes and focused, and the faces of the women in the building flashed up before him. Some he knew, some he didn’t. There was Storm, that bitch, and Jean Grey. An Asian girl with brightly-dyed hair. A woman with angry eyes like fire. All of them would pay.

 

Oh, ladies, a gleeful voice said, we are going to have a lot of fun together. 

 

————————————————————————————————————————————————————

 

David Haller looked down at his own unconscious figure and laughed. He was free, no longer tethered by the boundaries of that bound and beaten body, free to roam the grounds and execute his plan to the minutest detail. Instinctively, he went to look down at his own hands, but that was stupid- he had no hands, not now, because he wasn’t in a human form anymore.  There was nothing of him to see. Leaving his physical form tied to the bed, David turned and walked away.

 

The heavy steel door was designed to resist Juggernaut. David walked right through it. The guard outside didn’t bat an eyelid, which was perfect: that was the confirmation David needed to know for a fact that he wouldn’t be detected. He turned down the narrow corridor, picked a spot and closed his eyes- not that he technically had eyes, strictly speaking, but the same principle applied. At first, he wasn’t sure exactly what he was waiting for. But when it came to him it seemed so obvious. He was searching for his first victim. 

 

He could detect the presence of people above him. Although he wasn’t strong enough yet to make out their voices, they were definitely female. Perfect. Without hesitation, David let himself float up, through the ceiling and onto the first floor. He was in a lounge or common room of some kind- did he recognise this place? It took a few seconds before he could peg it in his memory. He’d seen this exact room a few minutes ago, from the bed where his body was currently chained like an animal. It had previously been the location of one of the bathrooms he’d swept from reality. A quick glance at one of the walls confirmed it- yes, there had been a small corridor leading to a toilet on that wall, he was sure of it. 

 

There were young women in the room, barely more than girls, four of them in all. Young X-Scum. The fairy one, the angry bitch, the one who called herself Jubilee. And one more- Kitty Pryde, the kid who could walk through walls. Well, David thought, two can play at that game, except you can’t even see me. She looked near-hysterical- and was she clutching her stomach? In his heightened state of sensitivity, David could smell strong farts coming straight from the girl. Well well well, what do we have here? I haven’t even started yet and already one of them has to take a shit. 

 

“How are you guys not seeing this?” Kitty said, waving her free arm at the blank wall, “there’s always been a bathroom here!”

 

David frowned. So not all of them had been tricked by his mind-games. That was unusual. Kitty, at least, was aware that relief was usually a few metres from her bed rather than several minutes. But there was no time to waste- the others seemed to have fallen for his powers, and that was good enough. He had a lot of ground to cover. Although, he realised, he couldn’t go without leaving a parting gift. Almost nonchalantly, David flicked his imaginary wrist with a lazy flourish in the direction of the other girls in the room, concentrating his mind on exactly what he wanted to happen. 

 

The effect seemed instantaneous. Pixie doubled over straight away, both hands grabbing her belly, eyes wide. Jubilee suddenly gasped and her left arm snaked towards her crotch, where it squeezed tightly. Even Magma stiffened up and burrowed her eyebrows as she felt something wrong. Job done, David thought. It’s just a shame I won’t be able to watch the results. He turned and walked through the closed door of the dormitory, into a small stairwell. I can always check in on them later, he decided, locking the door behind him for good measure with a single thought. 

 

He found himself next arriving in the cafeteria- the place in the school he recognised better than any other. It was jam-packed: perfect for causing some chaos. Before he could even think about his first target in the room, his vision went straight to the imperious shape of Storm. Pure hatred bubbled up in his mind, some from David, most from the other voices of Legion. She would pay worse than the others… or he would make it so. He focused all of his energy on her bitch body, channeling all the anger and pain he had felt that morning into her. He wanted to put more piss and shit into her evil ass than most human beings could even hold, mutant or not. There was nothing in the world more satisfying to David than the look of sincere terror in her eyes that arrived seconds later. It had worked. The need had hit her, and by the looks of it, it had hit her bad. 

 

Oh, and how perfect, two more enemies were there with her. Rachel Summers sat nearby, alongside the one who called herself Psylocke. Fuck them. Next to Storm, they weren’t worthy of his attention, but they needed to pay for their crimes just the same. With ease, he filled the bladder of one with brimming pee and the bowels of the other with hot, wet dung. Summers got up from her chair with a cry of surprise. On the table beside the adults, three girls scrambled to their feet in concern. He knew their names well: Armor, Magik and Dazzler. They wanted to help Storm and her bitch friends, no doubt. Well, David couldn’t have any of that. He sent the witch doubled over with what he knew would be agonising stomach cramps. Dazzler stepped back as her body began to fill at impossible speeds. David wanted to get Armor desperate to poop- how ironic it would be to see the honourable Armor shit her pants- but couldn’t. She already had to go, badly.

 

He cackled to himself, filled up her bladder instead, and left. If Jean Grey was in the building, he would find her next.

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Rogue woke with a start, damp with sweat. She had been having a dark dream, which wasn’t uncommon for her, but this one had jolted her from her sleep somehow. In it she’d seen the face of a man who looked vaguely familiar, a man with a shark’s grin and dead eyes. Then the dream had shifted, and she’d been back in her bed as a small child on a dark and thundery night. As the fear of the lightning and rain had strangled her, she’d started peeing the bed, just as she’d done in her childhood in real life-

 

Shit- she was peeing! 

 

Swearing loudly, Rogue threw her covers off her waking body and onto the floor. She slept naked, always, so as she scrambled into a sitting position her bare crotch was like a water feature, still gushing pee into a growing puddle on the bedsheets. The stream emerged from beneath the bush of her pubic hair, the yellow tinge barely visible in the dim light, and splashed dully into the shallow pool between her thighs. Her first and only priority was to shut off the stream, but that took a few seconds. Once her pussy had been clamped shut she assessed the situation. First realisation: she had to pee something awful. She never woke up desperate, and she’d certainly never wet the bed. Second realisation: her bowels were cooking up a storm. As she sat there, barely awake, a fart shot out and caused the puddle of pee between her legs to bubble like a hot tub. 

 

There wasn’t time to waste. Rogue shot out of bed, leaving her soaked sheets behind. They would have to wait until later- if she tried to clean up now there would soon be a puddle on the carpet. Ignoring another fart, she looked around for something to wear. All she could see was an oversized t-shirt that she wore as a night top when she was feeling lazy. She chucked it on, shoved aside the heavy stool that blocked her door and escaped into the main dormitory. The last thing she had expected was for all of the girls she lived with to be in the room already, looking panicked.

 

“What’s going on?” she asked, realising with a horrible sinking feeling that she wasn’t the only one who really needed to use the bathroom. 

 

“I could ask you the same thing!” Kitty groaned. She looked possibly the most desperate of all of them, bouncing up and down on the spot where she stood. 

 

“I don’t know,” Rogue said exasperatedly, “I just woke up and I feel like I’m gonna pee myself, and I have to take the worst dump too”. Over in the corner, Magma winced at this- she had never been good at talking about when she had to use the bathroom, and Rogue couldn’t tell if her reaction was because she was embarrassed or because she also had to drop a load. However, Pixie had no such inhibitions, and she had always been pretty vocal about them. 

 

“I have to poop as well,” she agreed, which was accompanied by a soft fart.

 

“I think we all do,” Kitty said, “I think something really, really bad is going on”.

 

“I don’t,” Magma piped up from her armchair determinedly. All four other girls looked over in disbelief. 

 

“You don’t?” Jubilee asked.

 

“No, I’m fine,” Magma insisted, “I went last night”.

 

“So why are you sweating?” Pixie pointed out.

 

“It’s a hot day,” Magma mumbled. “Look, I’m fine. I don’t feel ill or… whatever. I have no idea what you’re all talking about”.

 

“Where did you go?” Kitty asked.

 

“What?”

 

“You said you went last night, where did you go?”

 

“In the bathroom…” Magma didn’t understand what was happening.

 

“Which bathroom, Magma, this is important!” Kitty pressed. Magma paused, frowning. It hit her what Kitty had been getting at. Where had she gone to the bathroom the night before? She knew the answer, but it was impossible. It didn’t make the slightest jot of sense. 

 

“In the toilet over…” she looked up at the wall. There was no toilet over there, had never been a toilet over there, except in the ramblings of Kitty for the last few minutes. She shook her head as if she was a dog shaking water from her fur. “I must have gone downstairs, I guess”.

 

Kitty growled in frustration. “You’re not getting it,” she spat. 

 

“Guys, that doesn’t matter right now,” Jubilee cried. She had sat up on the sofa where she’d previously been laying, and was now writhing constantly in her seat. “If I don’t get to the bathroom soon I’m not going to make it”. It was true; her bowels felt like a ticking time bomb that would go off no matter where she was. 

 

“She’s right,” Pixie said, “I think we should all just head downstairs to the bathroom and argue later”. Her stomach grumbled so loudly that it could be heard across the room. She rushed towards the door, followed closely by Jubilee and Kitty. Magma got up to her feet as well and started moving.

 

“I thought you didn’t have to go?” Kitty said bitterly. 

 

“I don’t,” Magma lied, “but I might as well come along”. 

 

Only Rogue was hanging back, unable to rush with them as she desperately wanted to. She was only in a t-shirt, after all, and wouldn’t be seen dead in the school with her ass hanging out. She would have to nip back into her bedroom and grab something to wear. But before she could turn back to her room, Pixie’s worried voice cut through the room like ice.

 

“It’s locked,” she said, “the door’s locked!”

 

“Our door doesn’t have a lock,” Kitty growled, pushing Pixie aside and trying the door to no avail.

 

“What is wrong with you today?” Magma said, “our door’s always had a lock”.

 

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

 

Armor had never needed the toilet this badly before, but she was determined not to show it at any cost. She’d become desperate for a poop in recent minutes since hearing that Legion was around, and suddenly she had to pee as well. How that had happened was unclear, but she could tell it was something that had impacted everyone around her. Not that that meant she was comfortable showing it- she’d never given the game away when she had to use the bathroom, and that wasn’t going to change now. 

 

Dazzler had no such policy. The blonde girl was bent over with both hands between her legs, bobbing up and down on the spot like she was on a trampoline. Of course, if she actually had been on a trampoline she would surely be wetting her pants by now. It looked like she’d picked a bad day to dress in all-white. The other women dotted around the cafeteria were fairing just as poorly. The real source of concern for Armor at that point was Storm, who was squatting down with an agonised expression on her face. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Armor asked. Of course, she already knew because she was feeling identical pains in her stomach and a fullness in her bladder. She was sure Storm was experiencing the same thing, but if she acted like she already knew what was up then the other women would surely realise that Armor also needed to go, and she wouldn’t allow that. Trying to look sympathetic and banish any signs of her own need, Armor crouched next to Storm and leant in close. 

 

“I’m fine, Armor,” Storm lied through gritted teeth. Armor thought she had never seen such a blatant untruth told in her life- the woman clearly wasn’t okay. Armor could completely understand not wanting to admit you had to go- her attitude was the same, after all- but there was no point lying when you were as unable to hide it as Storm was in that moment. With both ladies evidently running out of time, Armor did something she’d never done before. She leaned in and whispered in Storm’s ear.

 

“Listen, I know that you have to go to the bathroom. So do I. I don’t know what’s causing this, and I know you want to hide it from the others, but if we just hide it from each other then we won’t get anywhere”.  Storm turned to her, eyes red, and silently nodded. It was bizarre how quickly the power had shifted between the pair. Here was one of the most powerful and revered mutants in the world, and she was taking orders from a teenager without question. It was crazy what being desperate to shit could do to a woman’s psyche, Armor thought to herself. 

 

She stood up straight, still doing her best not to show any outward signs of her increasingly urgent need to evacuate her bowels and bladder. Next in line for a check-in was Magik, who sat on a round stool beside the table, facing away from her forgotten breakfast. She was pushing her thighs together tightly, but also looked like she didn’t want people to think she had to go. 

 

“Magik, you okay?” Armor asked, approaching cautiously. When under stress, the sorceress could be volatile at the best of times and Armor didn’t want to piss her off.

 

“Yeah, I’m good,” she said bluntly, “just got startled by what happened with Rachel”. Of course, Armor didn’t buy this for a second- she had seen the way Magik had been doubled over, grabbing her belly and moaning in what sounded like serious pain. But she let it slide. 

 

“And what did happen with Rachel?” Armor asked suspiciously. She was confident that Magik could tell that Armor didn’t believe her. 

 

“Food poisoning, I think. Ask her yourself, she said something about needing to poop. I don’t know why they build a cafeteria with no doors, anyway”. 

 

“No, I never understood that either,” Armor admitted, and turned towards Rachel. The short-haired beauty was sitting a few metres away, and in a sharp antithesis of Magik she was banging her knees together rapidly, thighs opening and closing as quickly as a flip-book. One hand was rubbing her belly and with the other she was tepidly feeling the back of her pants. 

 

“Rachel…” Armor asked. Sympathy wasn’t generally in her repertoire of emotions she put on full display, but she couldn’t help feeling sorry for the poor woman, who was evidently struggling to hold it in. “How bad is it?”

 

“Real fucking bad, Armor,” Rachel groaned, beckoning the girl closer. Once Armor was at arm’s length she grabbed her and pulled her head down so she could whisper in her ear, away from the hearing of the other women. “I have to fart so bad it hurts”. 

 

“Do it,” Armor encouraged.

 

“I can’t- too embarrassing”.

 

“If it hurts you have to let it out,” Armor said, “I’ll distract everyone and you push it out, they won’t hear”. 

 

Rachel considered this for just a second- the longest she could afford to wait- and nodded. Armor moved away, past the rest of the women, and opened her mouth to make some noise. But before she could grab the attention of anyone, Rachel lost control. A long, wet fart erupted from her, catching the ears of everyone in the room. Dozens of faces turned in unison towards the poor woman, who had suffered the indignity of farting as an adult in front of a room of younger women. Her eyes were wide in shock and dread as her hand snuck behind her to inspect her panties, out of the view of most students. Silently, as the conversation across the hall resumed, she caught Armor’s eye and mouthed three unmistakable words: I just sharted.

 

Armor grabbed Psylocke’s arm.

 

“What the hell is going on? This doesn’t make any sense,” she demanded. Psylocke raised a shaky arm and pointed at Storm, who was still squatting desperately over the floor. 

 

“She knows what’s going on,” the woman said bitterly, “ask her”.

 

All five women around turned to look at Storm, who knew she’d been caught out in more ways than one. Magik and Dazzler looked on in intrigue, expecting an answer. Storm couldn’t see a way out, and so she told the truth.

 

“David Haller did this,” she said, keeping the steel in her eyes even as she bounced in desperation, “I don’t know how, exactly, but Legion is behind all of this”.

 

—————————————————————————————————————————————————

 

Long before Legion came anywhere near her classroom, Jean Grey was beginning to seriously worry. Her urge to pee had doubled since she’d started teaching, and now there was still half an hour left for her to teach before she could go for some relief. Leaving in the middle of the class was still not an option, not least because it was the wrong message to send to her students. They perceived her, she knew, as one of the strongest female figures in the mutant world. Waddling off halfway through a lesson to go pee would tarnish that image, she was sure of it.

 

To make matters worse, she didn’t just have to pee. Jean didn’t poop often, but when she did they were big loads that came on quickly and it looked like her body had picked this morning, of all mornings, to make it happen. She shouldn’t have been surprised; her bowels had always had something of a habit of choosing the worst times to need emptying. 

 

But the strangest of things was happening- it looked as though she wasn’t alone in her need. In fact, quite the opposite. Nobody would say it out loud; in all her time teaching she’d never been asked by a student if they could use the bathroom during a class. She suspected that they were concerned that she’d look down on them for not being able to hold it until the end of the lesson, which wasn’t really true, but Jean could see why they might think that. And now it looked as though almost the entire class was struggling.

 

Unless she was imagining it. Perhaps it was an illusion encouraged by her own desperation. Maybe she was just seeing what she wanted to see. And yet… every time she finished saying something important, as she paused to let her students copy it down into their books, she would look around the room and find everywhere what were certainly symptoms of a need for the toilet. On the front row, Moonstar was massaging her belly beneath the table. She may have thought Jean couldn’t see from that angle, but her teacher knew. Laura, as usual, had been deathly silent throughout the lesson. In general this was standard for Laura- she was a quiet girl who never liked talking during classes- but this time Jean suspected there was another reason for her subdued state. Her legs were crossed tightly, and one smart-shoed foot had been bouncing up and down constantly for twenty minutes. 

 

Then there were the Cuckoos, who were frozen in identical poses with identical expressions of pain. Six hands between them, Jean thought, and I can’t see a single one. All three sets of hands were hidden beneath the table. From where she was, Jean couldn’t see what they were doing, but she would have bet good money that all three crotches were being squeezed. Of course, Jean realised with a shock, they’re psychically linked. That must mean that if one needs to pee, they all do. 

 

If there was one person who Jean was confident needed the toilet just as badly as she did, it was Emma Frost. The White Queen wasn’t a student, sure, but she looked even worse off than the youngsters. Although Emma would never admit it, there was no denying that she needed to go. She sat, stiff and silent, at the back of the room, legs welded together in a crossed position. She looked like an older version of Laura in that position, but potentially even more desperate- there was almost sweat on the White Queen’s forehead. 

 

Finally, there was the new girl, Kelly. She was the only one who seemed to be okay, although Jean guessed that Kelly was simply better at hiding her need than the rest of the women in the room. They were locked in this loop, all of them wanting the toilet but all of them too shy or too proud to admit it out loud. Jean refused to be the first to crack. So instead, she pushed on with the lesson once more.

 

There were twenty minutes left before sweet relief when things came to a head in Jean’s abdomen. With her urge at both ends reaching a peak, she had taken to standing perfectly still in front of her blackboard and reciting the rest of the lesson from memory. The reason for this strategy was simple: she felt much like walking around was no longer a viable way to hold it in. In fact, it felt like moving would surely make it harder to keep everything in. Jean knew that she couldn’t stand in that one spot like a tree forever, but she had been hoping for at least ten minutes or so of stability to give some relief to her tortured bladder and bowels. No such luck.

 

“Professor, could you come and check mine?”

 

Shit, Jean thought. It was the new kid, Kelly, who had called her over to take a look at the diagrams they had been sketching. Jean wanted nothing less than to have to walk over there, but she didn’t see a way out of it without admitting her situation. So she started to walk over to Kelly’s desk.

 

From the moment she moved her legs, Jean knew she’d made a mistake. A trickle of hot pee escaped from her pussy and dampened the front of her panties. Stunned by the feeling of wetness on her crotch, Jean froze and her focus on the other end slipped. Every woman in the room looked up at her as something slipped out of her butt unwelcome. It was bad enough that her students thought she had farted, but Jean knew better. It had been more than just gas.

 

That was the last straw. She had to get out of here.

 

“Okay, class,” she said, red in the face, “I just have to go grab something from the Professor’s office, and I’ll be right back”. 

 

With all eyes on her, pee on her private parts and shit in her pants, Jean Grey turned and abandoned her class. 

 

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“In here!” May hissed, herding the three agents into a broom closet that had been left unlocked. She slipped in after them and shut the door behind her, facing the trio of less-than-impressed women, who were cramped together so close their shoulders were touching. 

 

“Funny, I’ve led dozens of missions and not once have I ended up shoving my agents in a closet,” Natasha said dryly. Her patience was clearly starting to run thin, which wasn’t helped by the fact that- unbeknownst to the others- she really had to poop. Not that she was going to admit that side of the reasoning for her rattiness. 

 

“Cut it, Natasha, there’s no room for your attitude,” May snarled. 

 

Jemma thought that was a brave thing to say. Melinda May was a highly skilled fighter, a dangerous opponent in almost any fight and more than a match for pretty much everybody she was likely to come up against. With that being said, Jemma was confident that Natasha Romanoff could kill May in no more than ten seconds if she wanted to. Of course May knew that Natasha wasn’t hot-headed enough for it to come to that, but it was still a scary thought. 

 

“Why are we standing in a broom cupboard?” Jemma asked, perfectly reasonably. 

 

“Classes are getting let out in a few minutes. Any second now people are going to come swarming out of those rooms and there’s no chance we won’t get recognised. We wait here until they pass and then we get David, okay?” 

 

“No, not okay!” Natasha spat back, “We’ve been stumbling around this school like idiots for almost an hour and now you bundle us in a closet. What’s going on, May?”

 

“Fine, we must have got some faulty information. There’s only one room left where he could be, and it’s close. We’ll get him, just wait,” she said. It was abundantly clear that May would rather die than believe that they were going to fail, even if the other agents were starting to lose faith in their informant’s word. 

 

Jemma, for her part, wasn’t too bothered at this point. Her main focus was how badly she needed the toilet. While she was far too shy to be constantly bugging May about it, Maria was at least nice enough to ask her for an update every now and then, presumably out of kindness. 

 

“How you doing, Jemma?” she asked now, breaking the silence. 

 

“Absolutely busting,” Jemma said quietly. She couldn’t bear the thought of weeing herself in front of three respected colleagues, not least because they were standing so close together that her accident would probably soak through their shoes. 

 

“Can you hold it?” Maria asked sympathetically. 

 

“I don’t know,” answered Jemma, “it’s getting really difficult”. She wasn’t exaggerating, either: it was becoming incredibly hard to hold in her wee, making her privates throb with a gentle ache. Jemma could barely even stand still anymore. May at least had the decency to look guilty- after all, it was her fault that Jemma was so desperate, having refused to let her go almost an hour ago. 

 

“We’ll be done soon, Jemma,” May said carefully, “now everyone keep their voices down- here they come!” True to her word, voices and footsteps started emerging from the other side of the door. Within thirty seconds it had snowballed into a crescendo of people in the hallway outside. They were close, Jemma could tell- some were moving past the cupboard door just a few metres away. But she had a much bigger problem.

 

As she’d expected- and dreaded- for at least half an hour, her bladder was finally beginning to fail her. She felt the trickle of wee dribble from her urethra and run down the lips of her vagina, but she couldn’t stop it. Her only choice was to stand still and try and keep the damage to a minimum. By some miracle, Jemma managed to shut off the flow after a few seconds, although she’d started to think that wouldn’t be possible. In the dark of the broom cupboard, at least she had the comfort of knowing that none of the other women could see her patting the front of her trousers, checking for any wetness. 

 

What she found was the last thing she wanted: the pee had soaked through. Not a lot, but enough that she could tell. Fortunately she was wearing dark jeans, meaning the wet patch wouldn’t be visible, but it was still bound to get uncomfortable. A foul smell filled her nostrils- was that the smell of her wee? No, surely not. It smelt, to Jemma’s delicate nose, more like poo. Someone had farted in the cupboard. 

 

Once the rumble of feet from outside had finally died down, it was Natasha who addressed it. 

 

“Christ, that stinks,” she whispered angrily.

 

“Jemma, was that you?” Maria asked.

 

“No, promise, I only need a wee”. Jemma had decided it was best not to mention her leak to the others. All three heads turned to May, barely visible in the near-blackness.

 

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, “I think it was something I ate”. 

 

Natasha sighed in disbelief and pushed out of the cupboard to escape the scent. 

 

“Come on,” she said, “let’s get David so we can get out of here before someone has an accident”. 

 

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————

 

David practically flew through the school, breezing past crowds of students and teachers, leaving chaos in his wake. He could turn a corner to find six girls and leave behind six desperate, quivering wrecks. One woman had wet herself on the spot thanks to the sheer amount he’d summoned into her bladder. After that he started to go more easy. He wanted them to suffer first.

 

Turning down one corridor, he was startled by the opening of a cupboard door to his left. A red-headed woman came stumbling out, and David recognised her instantly. How could he not? Her face was known around the world, as one of the famous Avengers. She was followed by three more women, all dark-haired. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, judging by their look. There was only one reason why three S.H.I.E.L.D. agents would be sneaking around the school at this hour. They were after him.

 

Well, we can’t let that happen, a voice in his head laughed. David got to work.

 

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

 

Rogue’s bedroom door, as it turned out, was also locked, having closed behind her when she’d rushed out into the dormitory with pee dripping down one leg.

 

“How are you not getting this?” Kitty yelled, her frustration reaching new levels as her urge to go did the same, “your door can’t be locked!”

 

She was in a room of intelligent mutants, and yet she seemed to be the only one grasping what was happening. Jubilee was still in straight denial that anything was wrong with their rooms this morning. The other three had fallen into a strange state of confusion, all believing that they had always had locks and never had bathrooms, but also seeming to acknowledge- to varying degrees- how insane and impossible this was. 

 

“Kitty, stay calm,” Jubilee said, “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for… whatever you’re talking about”. She was trying her hardest to be the rational one in the conversation, but that wasn’t very effective given that she was bent over at the waist, clearly resisting the urge to fill her pants. 

 

“No, there’s not!” Kitty snapped. She was reaching her limits for sure, even faster than she usually did. More farts had kept slipping out, and she was sure- although she lacked the courage to confirm it- that she’d lost a squirt or two of pee during the arguing. 

 

The only person who could quite rival Kitty’s level of desperation was Rogue, who, if anything, seemed to be worse off. Perhaps it was to do with the fact that she was only wearing a t-shirt, leaving her butt and private parts hanging out (which was nothing her roommates hadn’t seen before), but it constantly felt like an accident was just moments away for Rogue. This was understandable; she’d already been peeing when she’d woken up and barely been able to keep the taps shut since. 

 

“Guys, I don’t think I can hold it anymore,” she groaned. One hand was grabbing her pussy and the other squeezing her cheeks closed at the back. The palm in front wasn’t faring so well- there were clear streams running between her fingers and dripping rhythmically onto the carpet. Kitty could only imagine what was happening at the back, but she would have bet money that that hand wasn’t totally clean either. “It’s starting to come out… at both ends”.

 

“No, Rogue, you can’t wee,” Pixie pleaded, squirming on the spot, “if you wee I’ll wee too. I can’t help it”. 

 

“Sorry, Pixie, it’s already happening, nothing I can do,” Rogue said sadly.

 

“No!” Pixie turned away and looked determinedly at the door, covering her ears with both hands. A few seconds later she realised she needed her hand elsewhere and buried it back in her crotch. Kitty hoped for Pixie’s sake that her theory was wrong, because Rogue had been right: she was losing control right now. 

 

The first signs of it turning into a full-blown accident came as the steady streams escaping her clamped hand began to pick up in pace and power. Within seconds they were thick rivers of gold and before anyone could say anything piss was jetting out from those gaps, spraying everywhere despite Rogue’s best efforts to keep it in. Kitty knew perfectly well what that meant- she’d had plenty of experience at being desperate for both things at the same time, and she knew that it was nearly impossible to relieve one without the other. Rogue’s wince and the smell starting to waft across the room almost confirmed her suspicions: the girl was messing herself into her hand. 

 

“Oh God, guys, I’m sorry,” Rogue wailed, and now Kitty could see it, could see the brown mass emerging from Rogue’s tight butt. Nothing Rogue was trying could stop its slow descent, nor halt the waterfall that was erupting out of her pussy. Now she had no trouble believing what Pixie had said- watching Rogue lose control was making it even more difficult to hold onto her own mess and piss. She, too, turned away… only to see a puddle around Pixie’s feet. 

 

“Pixie!” Magma scolded, “you’re peeing on the floor!”

 

“I’m sorry!” Pixie sniffed, unable to stop, “just hearing her weeing made me need it so bad!”

 

It was too much for Kitty to take. She pushed past Pixie and phased straight through the door, not even feeling bad anymore for abandoning her classmates. If the bathroom downstairs really was the only one in the building now, and the other girls believed that had always been the case, then she had to get there right now. But she’d only managed half the steps down to the ground floor when she realised that the staircase would beat her body. 

 

At the halfway point of the stairwell, where one flat piece of floor connected one stairway with the other, Kitty couldn’t go on another foot. She was sent doubled over in agony by another stomach cramp, and knew instinctively that this would be her last. The urge- no, the compulsion- to push was too much, and she couldn’t resist it anymore. She felt her anus being stretched and expanded by the tip of an enormous log starting to finally make way out of her, pushing and forcing with growing speed. One last, desperate effort to hold it back was met with nothing but a second of pause

 

Movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head and saw the one thing she wanted to see less than anything else in that moment. In her shock, the dam burst. Before she realised that she was wetting herself, her black leggings were not only bulging at the back, but soaked with pee. She almost couldn’t believe what she was seeing, couldn’t believe the sheer awfulness of her luck.

 

Professor Charles Xavier was at the bottom of the staircase, looking up at her in amazement as she pissed and shit her pants. 

 

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————

 

Legion ghosted around the corner and out of sight, leaving the S.H.I.E.L.D. bitches to suffer. It had been so easy to take them by surprise, and he’d been gone before they had even known what was happening. He hadn’t harmed them, sadly- David’s last remaining rational voice had prevented that. But he’d left them all squirming and writhing in desperate agony that would soon give way to hot shame as they lost control. Maybe he was getting a taste for this unique form of torture, but it was almost as fun as killing. This way, it was almost like these women were the ones failing, humiliated by their inability to control a bodily function that small children are expected to master. Soon that would be the fate of the four agents- although David couldn’t stick around to watch it happen. It was a shame. But he had a lot of people to check in on. 

 

First he hit up the dormitory. It was simple: David found the spot that he’d picked earlier and floated up, through the ceiling and into the room. This time he misjudged slightly and almost projected right through that weird fairy kid. It took him a few seconds to realise what had happened. She was soaked from the waist down, drenched in the unmistakable scent of pee. The tang of urine was so strong it almost hung in the air. On the other side of the room, also in a puddle of her own making, stood Rogue. Her naked bottom half would have drawn the attention of most men, but Legion was far more interested in the brown pile between her feet. Behind him, Magma was squatting in a corner, pushing out the last of her own dump with an agonised expression on her face while Jubilee watched in horror as her underwear received a saturating. The pure chaos of it all bought a savage kind of joy to his broken mind. No sign of Kitty- no matter, David thought. He’d find her later.

 

He remembered the way to the cafeteria. Same story there- a mess. In one corner, the girl, Magik, was cowering in the shadows. David didn’t need to approach to see what was going on- her bare thighs were exposed as she squatted down, emptying herself onto the floor like an animal. Looking around, he could see that almost everyone in the room had failed to hold on. Rachel Summers was emitting a smell that could only be equated to shitting in one’s pants. Dazzler was standing so near to David that he could see the sagging bulge beneath her butt where she hadn’t made it. There only seemed to be two women left who were still hanging on: one was Armor, still clutching her honour in one hand, not giving in yet. The other, miraculously, was Storm. She stood like a statue, showing no emotion, but David knew that she was close. There were no stains on the front of her crotch and no bulges at the back. No matter. Time would take it’s toll.

 

Almost gleefully, he rushed back towards Jean’s classroom. Phasing through the door, he was met right away with the first big surprise: no Jean. Had she rushed off to the bathroom? That didn’t sound like her at all. The famous Jean Grey, a proud woman who could destroy almost anyone in combat, abandoning her class to go to the toilet. And yet she was nowhere in sight. Before he could dwell on this for too long, he adjusted to exactly how much chaos had consumed the class in her absence. Moonstar was leaning against the radiator, her books forgotten, looking for all the world as if she was using the metal rim to hold her cheeks closed. At the back of the room, Emma Frost couldn’t take her hand away from her crotch. A girl David didn’t recognise sat silently in a corner and Laura Kinney was farting incessantly in her chair. But the thing that David couldn’t look away from was the Stepford Cuckoos, who were sitting together on one long desk near the front of the room. Or, at least, they had been sitting. Now they were standing, chairs abandoned. Each was writhing in desperation, all three of them grabbing at their crotches. 

 

The new girl, the one David had never seen before, rose from her seat and went to the door. She spoke for the first time. Her voice was bizarre, low and unnatural coming from a teenage woman.

 

“It doesn’t look like the Professor is coming back any time soon,” she said.

 

“Kelly, you really shouldn’t leave your class without permission,” Moonstar interjected, even as her stomach rumbled loudly.

 

“You saw her,” Laura spat, “she was already having an accident. She’s not coming back”.

 

“Thank you!” said the new girl- Kelly, “we have to get to the bathroom before it’s too late- who’s with me?” 

 

Laura rose almost immediately, holding her bottom, followed by Frost and the three musketeers. Reluctantly, and perhaps because she recognised that her pride was more important than obeying the rules, Moonstar rose too. Kelly held the door open for them all, watching as the six desperate women filtered past her, heading for what they genuinely believed was the only bathroom in school. As soon as Moonstar became the last one out the door, though, Kelly slammed it shut and hoisted a nearby chair in the way. He had no idea what she was doing- was she looking for somewhere private to have an accident? Had she decided she couldn’t hold it and didn’t want the others to see? But no- she turned on the spot and looked right at him. Almost as if she could…

 

David felt his body go cold, which was impressive considering that he didn’t have one. The girl’s eyes were no longer those of a teenager, even a mutant teenager. They were cold, dark, like a bear’s eyes. She smiled a small, sly smile, and her face began to change. The features morphed. Her skin was tinged now with another shade- inky blue, almost, a sharp contrast against the red of her hair.

 

Impossible, David thought. But it was very much real.

 

“Hello, David,” Mystique grinned, “I’ve been waiting for you”. 

 

———————————————————————————————————————

 

"I can't hold it, I'm going to poop my pants". 

 

Jemma looked around in shock. All four agents were clearly desperate for the toilet- certainly since they'd left that broom closet- but she really hadn't expected Melinda May to be the first to burst. Heheh, first to burst, that rhymes, a small voice piped up inside her head. She silenced it and tried to focus. It had been clear since the cupboard that May really needed a poo, true, but still- Jemma had been busting for a wee since they arrived more than an hour ago! How come she could hold it and May couldn’t, all of a sudden? Worse still, what had happened to make Natasha and Maria desperate too? Whatever it was, she didn’t like it. Jemma was naturally suspicious of biologically unlikely things, and she didn’t believe much in coincidences. 

 

“Christ, May, I feel you- I think mine’s poking out,” Natasha grumbled. At least the bickering about who was in charge had slowed down since the cupboard incident. They were now metres away from David’s room- Jemma could see the door. 

 

“Me too, guys, but May- can you please try and hold it? We’re almost there” Maria said, holding her stomach. All three were rumbling loudly; it seemed that Jemma was the only one left who only needed a wee.

 

“Shit, no… I’m sorry,” May groaned, “I don’t know what’s wrong but I’ve never had to shit so bad in my life”. She farted loudly, a long, wet one. The sound of that fart was enough to tell Jemma everything she needed to know: it was over for Melinda May. Jemma had certainly never done a fart that sounded anywhere near that bad and still made it to the bathroom on time. Natasha didn’t seem to have cottoned on yet, but Maria had heard it too, and knew exactly what it meant. Suddenly, May’s voice was meek and almost childlike. “Just… please can nobody look? It’s happening”.

 

“What?” Natasha asked incredulously, whipping around. 

 

“I said I’m shitting myself, so could you please do me the courtesy of not staring?” May snapped. Natasha at least had the decency to turn around. Jemma followed suit, but in the reflective glass on the wall she could see everything. She saw the way May’s eyes closed as she gave in to the inevitable. She saw how May accepted defeat, saw her loose-fitting clothes begin to sag and droop as they were filled. Natasha and Maria couldn’t see these things, but they could certainly hear the farts and squelching sounds as Melinda May filled her pants with hot, wet shit. Jemma could only imagine how much poop there must be, judging by the length of the noises. She couldn’t see the liquid faeces that she assumed was running down May’s legs, staining her thighs. She could, though, see it begin to pool around her feet. 

 

When she was done, May turned with tears in her eyes and began to walk towards the room that they knew contained David Haller. 

 

“Don’t fucking talk about that ever again,” she said calmly. 

 

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

 

 

He talked to her. Or, at least, he communicated with her. The projection of David that was in the room couldn’t speak. Instead, from his hospital bed, he got inside her mind and sent the telepathic signals he needed to make her hear what he wanted her to hear. 

 

How did you know I was here?

 

“I have my sources,” she said darkly, “even if they don’t always talk willingly”.

 

So you tortured it out of someone?

 

“Me? No. I don’t care where you are. Someone who pays very handsomely does”.

 

Magneto? Is that what this is about? He sent you here?

 

Mystique laughed, a cruel sound. “I don’t think you have much time for talking, David. Those S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents are on their way to your body right now. If they can subdue you… it’s game over.” She turned once again and removed the chair beneath the door handle. “Speaking of which, I’d better get there not long after they do. I’d be there already but I want to give them a fair fight”.

 

Wait.

 

“What?”

 

How did you see me? Just now?

 

“I didn’t. It was a fair guess, though, I assumed you’d be watching your little game- unless you’ve done this all over the school?”

 

Done what?

 

“You know exactly what you’ve done, Legion. A roomful of grown women don’t suddenly need to pee and poop this badly for no reason”.

 

Which is why you can’t get to me. I have power over you.

 

“I’m not so sure you do. If you could kill me, you’d have done it by now. And I’m not sure why- maybe there’s still a little bit of human left in you- but you can’t kill me”.

 

I still have control over you bladder. Your bowels.

 

“Ah, that’s where you’ve gotten confused, David. You see-“ she unhooked her skirt at the back, letting it fall to the ground in a heap and stepping out of it before kicking the discarded fabric away- “you don’t have any power over me”. 

 

David squeezed desperately at her bladder, constricted her stomach to try and force her to need to go more. She spread her legs wide and he realised that she wasn’t wearing underwear. Mystique tilted her head back, mouth open, as a jet of pee began to fountain from her pussy, arcing out and away before splashing onto the floor. David could only watch while a runny mess started pouring from her butt and joining the puddle that was forming around her feet. She looked back at him- no, that was impossible, she couldn’t see him, even if she sure looked like it- and smiled. 

 

“You can’t win, David. Not with your little bathroom trick”. She dropped her voice to a stage whisper. “You see- I don’t care if I make it to the bathroom or not. As long as you’re dead by bedtime”.

 

————————————————————————————————————————————————————

 

“Storm- the door!” 

 

Armor grabbed the older woman by the arm, hoisting her to her feet. Storm had been flitting between standing and squatting for several minutes now, but that had to change. How did she not think of it? The cafeteria door! They could walk through it and be right near the bathroom.

 

“Has that always been there?” Dazzler asked in confusion. Armor ignored her and dragged Storm through the double doors and into the main hallway of the school. The only women’s bathroom in the place stood just a few dozen feet away… 

 

She groaned inwardly when she caught sight of the line that had formed outside. Jean Grey, Laura Kinney, all three Stepford Cuckoos, Danielle Moonstar and Emma Frost stood gathered just past the door. All of them looked ready to burst. But Armor had no choice- she pulled Storm once more and joined the back of the line. 

 

“You gotta pee too, huh?” Emma asked her, looking concerned.

 

“No- poop,” Armor corrected, “and Storm’s gotta do both. Really bad”.

 

“Well, we’d better hope this line moves, or it’s going to get messy”.

 

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

 

“It’s unlocked!” Jubilee gasped, finally getting some success after trying the door for the thirtieth time. 

 

“Are you serious? Now it’s unlocked?” Magma, who had been forced to pull up her underwear without wiping after taking her messy dump on the floor, was less than impressed. “Why are you in such a hurry anyway? None of us made it. It’s too late”.

 

“I still gotta go number two,” Jubilee explained. 

 

“I’m glad one of us does,” Rogue said dryly. She had stripped off a sock to wipe with after her horrendous accident all over the carpet, the one that had started it all off. Jubilee slipped out the door, leaving the three pee-sodden women behind. She only got halfway down the stairs in her pee-soaked jeans when she saw something that stopped her in her tracks: Kitty, in tears and reeking of poop, being comforted by Charles Xavier himself at the bottom of the stairs. 

 

“Jubilee? What’s going on?” he asked, as if he thought she would know. Desperation emboldened her, and she talked fast. 

 

“Everyone really had to go potty but the door was locked, we don’t know why,” she explained, “Now I have to do number twos,” she admitted, blushing furiously. For a second he stared at her in disbelief before coming to his senses.

 

“Right, no time to waste,” he announced, “there’s a bathroom in my office. I’ve seen the line downstairs, and believe me, you don’t want to join it”.

 

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

 

“We’re having an accident!” three voices chimed at once. Armor realised what was about to happen just in time- the Cuckoos had lost their battle. She backed away, pushing Storm with her. Her hand came into contact with something warm and soft on Storm’s backside. She didn’t need to ask what it was- not that there was time. 

 

“Cuckoos- you’re so close!” Armor pleaded, but it was too late. In unison, three crotches bloomed indigo and three butts erupted into the sounds of soaking wet farts. Just one of those girls would have pissed a river, Armor didn’t doubt, but all three? That was going to make a puddle the size of a swimming pool. She had to keep stepping back to avoid the stretching, slippery pee which expanded rapidly across the hallway, flooding it out. Others weren’t so quick and it caught their shoes. 

 

“Oh, fuck it,” came a voice. Next in line, Laura had decided that enough was enough. She turned to Armor and rolled her eyes. “I’m not gonna make it anyway,” she complained. Armor couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The girl bent her knees slightly and grunted, pushing out a log firm enough to tent her tight pants. A glance ahead confirmed that Dani Moonstar had lost it too. She was groaning, mumbling “please, not now,” over and over while the seat of her jeans turned a dark, murky shade. That was nothing compared to Emma Frost. Her once-pristine white clothing was getting destroyed, and was now an unmistakable brown. As she pissed herself, it seemed to be spraying in all directions, marred by the fabric she wore. 

 

Armor couldn’t believe it. The Cuckoos had lost it, Moonstar had shit herself, Emma was gone, Laura willingly filling her underwear. Even Storm, stronger than any of them, had a log in her pants. She pushed past them and towards Jean Grey, who was still- somehow- hanging on. She was writhing and dancing bizarrely in place. 

 

“Armor,” she gasped, “has everyone else had an accident?”

 

“Looks like it,” Armor said, fighting another cramp. “It’s just you and me, now”. 

 

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14 minutes ago, blooper said:

No mention of psylocke 😭. Otherwise good though. I feel like the cuts between people were..sharper, almost, this time compared to your other stuff, but it still worked well, and lots of accidents is always exciting. 

 

Yep! I had to fit two dozen characters into 15,000 words 🤣 there's a lot of cutting, sorry. 

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Maria peeked through the window in the door.

 

“He’s in here!” she confirmed. May removed a lock-pick from her pocket and got working on the heavy door. Within seconds, it clicked open. Jemma was already preparing the injection that would knock Haller out cold for several hours. 

 

“Okay, agents, you know the plan. Agent Romanoff, stay here and keep watch. The rest of you, with me”.

 

No sooner had May, Maria and Jemma burst in the door than a figure walked around the corner. Blue-skinned, half-naked and smelling of shit. Natasha Romanoff recognised Mystique instantly, and the feeling was mutual. Bad time to need a poop, Nat thought dully.

 

“Ah, the famous Black Widow,” Mystique said, as if this was exactly what she had expected, “shall we begin?”

 

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

 

The bathroom door clicked open at last, and Jean Grey started to hurry in. Before she closed it behind her, she turned, grabbed a shocked Armor by the wrist and pulled her into the small bathroom with her. 

 

“What are you doing?” Armor hissed, “I can’t be in here while you go, I’ll lose control just watching!” 

 

Jean shut her up with a finger on the lips. 

 

“Armor, listen to me,” Jean said carefully, “what we do in here can never leave this room. Never. Understand?” Armor nodded, looking dazed. “When I was younger I tried this trick a few times. It’s a squeeze, but I promise it’s possible. Do you trust me?”

 

“Of course, but-“ the words got lost somewhere in Armor’s throat when she realised that Jean was undressing, at least the bottom half. She was pulling her jeans and underwear around her ankles, and sitting down on the toilet. Jean sat carefully, placing her butt as far back as possible with her legs spread as wide as they could go. This gave Armor an unadulterated view of Jean Grey’s vagina- she didn’t seem to care. She patted the seat in front of her. 

 

“Sit here, I promise you’ll fit,” she said confidently.

 

“I can’t-“

 

Do you want to shit yourself or not?” Jean snapped. Armor knew she was right- it was the only option. Feeling the tip of her first turd start to slide out into her pants, she walked hurriedly towards the toilet and unbuttoned herself. The last thing she saw was the dark shape of a log dangling down between Jean Grey’s legs before she turned, sat down and lost herself in orgasmic relief. 

 

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

 

“Good try,” Natasha Romanoff snarled, barely beginning to getting her breath back. Mystique’s unconscious figure was slumped in a pile at her feet. “But I’ve had tougher fights with a street dog”. 

 

In truth, it hadn’t been quite that easy. The evidence was in the way her heart was thumping in her chest, the sharp pains on her torso where Raven had gotten a few good kicks in. But she’d come out on top, of course. 

 

The real consequence of the fight was currently filling her pants. Natasha knew from experience that being desperate to take a dump and fighting were rarely a good mix, and she’d started to feel herself losing control soon after Mystique had arrived. Stopping mid-fight to have a shit was, of course, not an option. So she’d let it happen and now, after the battle was won, it was still coming out in thick, ropey logs. By the time Natasha was once again the only conscious person in the corridor, she didn’t see the point of fighting her body. Instead, the famous Black Widow simply let it all come out. A hard ball slipped out of her underwear and fell onto the floor. It felt far too good for Natasha to care.

 

“It’s a good thing I knocked you out,” she said to nobody at all, “otherwise the smell woulda”.

 

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

 

David woke up to the sight of two guns in his face. This was not unusual. Feeling a scratch on his left arm, he turned his head just ten degrees. Simmons was standing over him, a needle already deep in his flesh. She was writhing on the spot, snatching at her pussy whenever she only needed one hand- even only for a second. The other two S.H.I.E.L.D. whores stood at his feet, aiming their tiny pistols right between his eyes.

 

He had been caught, he knew that. Legion was furious, but David didn’t mind. Maybe it was for the best. Wherever they took him, there was surely going to be more women he could torment like he had today. The thought comforted him. The other thing he found awfully satisfying was that Jemma Simmons was evidently within seconds of an accident. 

 

“He’s awake!” Jemma cried out, trying and failing to keep her voice down at the sight of David’s alert eyes. The other two primed their guns.

 

“Relax, ladies,” he croaked, “You seem to have things under control”. None of them said anything at this. They just waited cautiously, not taking their eyes off of their prisoner. Simmons removed the needle from his arm and pocketed it, now bouncing up and down like a schoolgirl.

 

“What was that?” he asked causally, seeming no more interested than a man asking a child what their favourite colour was. 

 

“Tranquilliser,” Jemma said simply, “you’ll be out cold for a few hours”. David nodded at this; he wasn’t surprised. 

 

“How long do I have before it kicks in?” He asked, taking great enjoyment from the panic in her eyes. He heard a drip on the floor, very close. There was no need to ask what had made the noise.

 

“One minute,” Jemma told him matter-of-factly. David chuckled. 

 

“Long enough”.

 

“Long enough for what?”

 

“I think you know,” he said hoarsely.

 

“No, Legion. You’re not going to see me wee myself,” Jemma said, but even as the words left her mouth he could tell she knew it was a lie. With the little head movement he could still muster, David nodded towards her pussy.

 

“I already am”. 

 

Jemma looked at him in horror as her dam finally burst. After being busting for so long, this was it. Her job was done and now her bladder couldn’t take any more. It gushed out of her like lava, flowing and cascading even as she tried with all her might to clench her muscles shut. He could fill in the gaps in his mind- imagine how it must be drenching her knickers, her pubic hair, her sweet, soft thighs.

 

“Leave it, Jemma, we’ve won,” he heard May say, “just finish your pee and we’ll get him out of here. You’re not the only one with ruined clothes today”.

 

“But I don’t understand,” Maria said. She looked right at David, his eyes beginning to close. “Why make everyone go to the bathroom in their clothes? Why not just kill us?”

 

He laughed again, an awful, throaty noise. 

 

“It’s much more fun to sit back and watch,” he said.

 

And with that, his world went dark. 

 

END

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  • 8 months later...

I'm guessing who will pass the mop in the Hallway 🤔

I definitively don't wantt to be on his/her place.

It's must be a huge work behind fanfiction, facinating reading. Congratulations !

 

P.S. : Also poor Kitty... 😢  I don't know what it's wrong with me, I spent all the reading excited of the idea of imagine her (one among a lot of others) having to mess herself, and when she didn't made it I can't help but feeling too bad for her, I wanted so much to hug her reconfortly...

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