A Marvel X-Men Fanfiction starring Wolverine and Jean Grey

So it’s probably not much of a spoiler (at least not any more than the picture I used) to announce that the main transformation finally occurs. There’s no actual violence, but previous violence is going to be pretty graphically described. There’s also no non-consensual sex, and we’re still a long way from the scene I warned everyone about in my introduction.

Some of you were kind enough to comment, kudo, or drop me a line and I wanted to express my thanks. I realize that with something this explicit, some of you, especially you lurkers, might not want to comment, but I do want to hear what you like, where you hope or suspect the story will go, etc. so feel free to PM. I’m also just glad you’re still reading.

August 20, 2020 - I made some minor edits to the story and am posting them all at once.

© Nyssa 2019

Author Note
This is a non-canon X-Men story, focused on Wolverine, with a lot of Jean Grey thrown in. I could be fooling myself, but I don’t think that much knowledge of the X-Men is required - it’ll be more fun if you do have some idea of who these people are, but it isn’t required. Here’s a wiki you can use if you’re really lost: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/X-Men

We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.

• Maya Angelou

 

The first thought Logan had as he drifted upwards towards awareness was a feeling of loss. He felt like he’d lost Jean. The presence that had been in his head was gone.

His next thought was, as he opened his eyes, that Dr. Hank McCoy seemed bluer than usual, and the smell wasn’t quite right. Then, the colors, sounds, and smells all shifted and seemed to settle down. Although he could only see Hank, he knew that Charles Xavier and Jean were in the room with him. Jean was crying.

And, he was restrained.

He also had several monitoring sensors attached. His innate sense of his body was off, as if everything had been scrambled and shoved back into the wrong place. When he moved his head, he could feel a lot of hair moving around. “What the..?”

“Ah, Logan,” said Dr. McCoy. “I see you have rejoined us. Before you speak, there are a few things Professor Xavier would like to reveal to you. If you wouldn’t mind dropping your mental shield, we can begin briefing you on the situation.”

At this point, Logan could hear Jean begin to cry a little harder. “Jean,” he managed to croak out – his voice sounded so weak, like a whisper. But then Jean Grey’s tear-streaked face entered his field of view. Even with red-rimmed eyes, she was a knockout.

“I’m here, Logan,” she said quietly. “You saved me. But now you need to let Charles fill you in. You’ve been out for three days.”

This delay wasn’t making him feel like cooperating, but he figured the mental briefing would be the fastest method. So he removed the mental shield and was almost immediately flooded with information.

“Logan,” came Charles’s voice in his head, “We already have Jean’s recollection and obviously we’ve recorded what’s happened since you returned to the mansion, so I’m going to add your memories of the event and see if we can get a full understanding.”

As if from a camera position inside the control room back where he’d found Jean, he saw his own flight through the air towards Neural Net. But this time there was narration from Charles.

“Logan, just as your blades extended, before you cut through the lock, your mutant healing factor seems to have alerted Neural Net to your presence. You’ll notice that Jean is turning towards you as you collided with him.”

At this point, Wolverine’s claws bury themselves in Neural Net’s chest as the device on his head flashes. “We believe that he commanded her to send a preprogrammed signal that activated your mutant healing factor. Activated it in a manner for which it was never intended.”

Logan saw his body spasm and begin to fall onto the ground. Soon after, Jean recovered and ran over to his side. Moments later, Ororo and Kitty entered. The three of them escorted his still convulsing body, levitated by Jean out to the X-jet. Here the scene changed to an overhead view of one of the beds in the mansion’s sickbay. He watched as his own body, convulsing and spasming, was laid on it.

“We attempted to stabilize your condition, but found that all attempts were,” Charles paused as the image of Logan’s body began to waste away in the time-lapse images, ”Ineffective.” The lines of Wolverine’s body changed. He seemed to be losing a drastic amount of weight. His hair began to fall out. “Over the next two days,” continued Charles, “We were merely spectators as your mutant healing ability wreaked massive changes upon your body.” Logan watched the images in horror, wondering what was going to be left of him, even knowing that he had obviously survived it.

“Survived as what?” he wondered.

“Approximately 10 hours ago, the direction of the changes became clear. However, it was only an hour before you awoke that we were able to guess at the specific configuration.”

As Logan watched, unable to even close his eyes to prevent the mental images Charles was projecting, he saw the hairs on his head began to grow. The wasting away seemed to slow, in fact the chest seemed to be growing back. As long, red hairs sprouted and grew, it was clear that breasts were forming on his chest. His face changed more slowly, but clearly was becoming more feminine. As the image’s changes slowed to a crawl, Logan didn’t need to wait until the changes were complete to know.

“I look like Jean,” he said aloud in a voice that he now recognized as being very similar to Jean’s.

“I would venture that it is more than external appearance,” began Dr. McCoy as he loosened the restraints. “Just the fact that your organs and neural pathways now seem to map exactly to Jean’s own, while responding in a normal fashion, indicates a complete remapping of the cerebellum and hypothalamus. Why, the number of unconscious instructions required by the human body to continue functioning is astounding, and the idea that the rewrite would stop there and not continue to overwrite the rest of the brain is…”

“Hank,” said Charles, stopping the lecture. “Logan, do you feel up to facing this now, or would you like some time with your thoughts?”

“Nah,” said Logan as he sat up, feeling his breasts shift on his chest and feeling a thousand different signals from parts he’d never had before. He was wearing some sort of stretch tank top that clung to him that looked much like his yellow and brown uniform, but still felt an urge to keep the sheet up under his arms and decided to go with that. As he sat up, he was relieved to find that all of his usual senses seemed to be in order. But everything else seemed to be completely different and yet carried a vague sense of deja vu. He held up one hand, with the sensor wires trailing off from it, and extended his claws just to see and feel something familiar. Something that was him, something from his old body.

“Hank,” he said, “You wanna get these wires off, or should I take care of them?”

“Oh, of course Logan. Here, just a moment.” Hank McCoy set about removing all the sensors and wires connecting Logan to the bed.

As Hank worked, Logan looked over at Jean. A thousand images of seeing that same face in the mirror, of growing into it, applying make-up, looking for flaws, wondering why she had to be the only kid in her grade with red hair… All of this flashed through his mind in a couple of intense seconds.

He suddenly felt pretty sure he knew what had happened to the Jean in his head.

When Logan looked up at her with his wild red hair and the sheets up around his chest, it reminded Jean so strongly of the dreamscape image that she was shocked into an involuntary shudder. She could feel her vagina begin to lubricate and her nipples tightened.

Logan, smelling the reaction, but unsure of the reason, found his own reaction to her arousal confusing. When he got wet in response, the images that came to his mind were of sex with Scott, of Scott’s cock penetrating the vagina that Logan now had and of sliding it into the mouth Logan now opened slightly in shock. He could remember what it was like welcoming Scott’s dick between the lips he now wore. Obviously, there were a lot more than physical changes. Logan swayed slightly at the realizations.

“Logan?” asked Hank. “Are you ok?”

“Yah,” he said. “Although, Jean and I may need to talk,” he said quietly to himself. “Could somebody get me my cigars?” asked Logan, with a hand to his head.

“I hardly think that’s going to help,” said Jean. “If that’s my body, I don’t smoke, so…”

“Well, I need something to deaden the input and get some focus while these memories keep crashin’ in,” stated Logan. He turned to Hank who handed him a cigar and a lighter. “Thanks, pal,” he said to Hank. “Nothin’ flammable in here, is there?”

“No,” answered Hank.

“Memories?” asked Jean a little louder than necessary.

Logan took the time to light the cigar, rolling it between his fingers. Unfortunately, it triggered another sexual “Jean” memory – of Jean holding Scott’s cock as she sucked on the head, licking at the cum oozing from it, her mouth full of his jism, the taste strong on her tongue.

Even worse, Jean was right about her body not liking the taste of the cigar. Logan could still identify every scent molecule, but it just didn’t taste the same. He let out the smoke from his first inhale and tried to relax. The memories didn’t seem to be fading, but at least the smell of Jean’s pheromones and her moistening genitals was somewhat deadened by the cigar. Logan looked up at Jean from his halo of long red hair and said, “I seem to have gotten all of your memories along with the body.”

Jean blushed bright red and asked, “All of them?”

“Seems like it. Right up until the night you…”

Jean, afraid of what Logan might say next, tried to think of a safe way to finish his thought. But, she was having trouble concentrating as she looked at the image that was so much like the one she had made love to in the dreamscape. “Said goodbye and then disappeared only to have you save me?”

“Yah,” said Logan, taking another puff of his cigar. “That’s it. I remember my life as Logan, or as much as usual, but I also remember your life. I remember going to bed – as you – and then, uhh, dreaming.”

Jean turned bright red at his emphasis.

“Then, at some point, everything changed and all my memories are what happened to me, uhh… the Logan me, until I woke up here.” He decided not to mention the voice-in-his-head version of Jean. He exhaled a stream of smoke and stood up, dropping the sheet. “Think I could borrow some clothes, sis?”

Jean practically sighed with relief that Logan had not mentioned any memories of their sleep sex session. “I guess that makes the most sense. Any idea what?”

“How about that leather skirt I, I mean YOU, bought last week?”

“I am not loaning you that. Wouldn’t you rather wear some pants?”

“Not really. And wouldn’t this be a great chance for you to see if it really does stretch across your ass too tight?”

“Okay,” conceded Jean. “But what shoes?”

“I was actually thinking of the boots that were the reason the skirt seemed so necessary,” said Logan.

“How about the periwinkle top?” suggested Jean.

“The silk one? That would be hot. Do you think maybe we should stick to certain colors so the others can tell us apart?” asked Logan as he and Jean walked out of the med room.

Hank and Charles watched this conversation looking from one Jean to the other, mouths agape.

“What, like yellow and blue for you?” asked Jean as their voices faded from the room.

“Oh, and green and yellow for you?”

“God no, I’d look like a Christmas tree on fire in green and yellow!”

As the two women had rounded the corner, Charles and Hank would not have been able to tell anyone which of the “Jeans” laughed at that exchange.

It was several seconds before either man of science spoke. Then, Charles said, “Hank, your mouth is open.”

“Charles, did you see the way Logan moved?”

“I was rather preoccupied by what was being said. But now that you mention it, I think I see your point.”

“Most of the time he exhibited gestures and movements that are consistent with those of Jean Grey, but when they left the room,” Hank paused, searching for a description, “Ooh la la. I mean, there was a grace and natural flow that was positively feline.”

“And how,” asked Charles somewhat rhetorically, “Do you suppose that affects the identity of our friend?”

“Charles, I am embarrassed to say that I hadn’t really considered that. I actually meant the process shouldn’t allow for it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” began Hank, “Logan’s body was rewritten in Jean’s image. His mutant healing factor can be given credit for helping him survive and even thrive, incorporating the necessary autonomic responses into his hypothalamus. But the detailed use of his new body parts should not have been possible as there was no direct source for the information - it is woven throughout multiple areas of the brain, nor would it likely be seen as necessary for survival by his mutant abilities. I mean, I can’t I think of a reason for Neural Net to include that as part of the transformation. There really isn’t even a reason for Logan’s body to have exactly duplicated Dr. Grey’s internal organs if the goal was to simply make him appear as her duplicate. There certainly isn’t a reason to give him Jean’s memories. Not that we know his intentions, but I have no idea how something so complex could even be achieved. Especially based on what we know of what Jean has been able to piece together of what she was forced to do. And, of course, there is still the mystery of Logan’s mutant healing ability itself and why it hasn’t reversed the changes. This is truly a fascinating case…”

“Hmm. While you work on that, I will follow up on another line of research. I think the original Jean Grey and I will need to have a little talk.”

>>X<<

Later that day, Jean Grey taps on the office door of Charles Xavier. She enters when the door opens by itself. She is still dressed in the clothes she was wearing in the lab, but her makeup has been repaired and she now appears fresh-faced.

“How is Logan?” asked Charles.

“He’s fine. He decided on a shower. When you called, we’d just got him set up with some clothes. I actually cleaned myself up a bit, too.”

“I notice your use of male pronouns. Do you think that wise?” asked the Professor.

“I don’t know. It’s always difficult to be detached enough when you’re dealing with someone you care about. Logan obviously doesn’t look like a ‘he’ but is still Logan, to me.”

“And, not thinking about the girl from the dreamscape is the only way I can maintain any objectivity,” she thought to herself.

“Fair enough,” pronounced the Professor. “I was hoping we could discuss some things Dr. McCoy has mentioned to me.” Charles proceeds to explain the central question that Hank has about Logan’s behavior. Just as he finished, Jean put her face in her hands and is wracked by a deep, shuddering sob.

“Oh, Charles! I did this to him.”

“Jean, you're not responsible for what Neural Net forced you to do."

"I walked in Logan's dreamscape," said Jean quietly, looking up at Charles with a stricken look.

"I see," said Charles, much of the compassion gone from his voice. “I must admit that I am disappointed that you would disregard my advice, but I still fail to see how that could be a contributing factor in Logan's current situation."

"I had some trouble getting in and I used a physical contact. I created an avatar based on me, rather than the huge, anonymous figure you recommended. But I think I ended up bypassing my avatar and then left it behind. In fact, I think Logan and I were linked even after the dreamwalk."

“Why would you do something like that?" asked a stunned Charles.

“I... I don't know, I'm sorry." Tears now dropped from Jean's lower lashes onto her cheeks, but she did not lower her gaze or give in to the urge to sob.

“I suppose,” began a rather subdued Charles after gathering his thoughts for a moment. “This is the point where you are expecting a stern lecture or reprimand?”

“Well, I guess I would deserve it,” said Jean quietly.

Charles paused a moment to consider his words. “Jean,” he began with compassion, “I think I need to consider my own actions, too. Clearly I didn’t treat you as a colleague that night. I have to admit that I not only acted as if you were still a student, I thought of you that way. In my defense, it is hard to let go and admit that some of our most cherished relationships have to change and evolve. Who knows how that night might have gone if I had recognized that at the appropriate moment?”

Jean felt new tears very close now but was determined to do nothing to disturb this moment. Her emotions had been on a rollercoaster these past few days, and especially this morning. She didn’t trust herself to say anything.

“But in our mutual defense Jean, neither of us could have predicted the confluence of events that led us, and our friend Logan, to this point. Ultimately, you meant no harm. And it really isn’t for me to judge you, my colleague, anyway. I’m not going to minimize the consequences, nor condescend to say it was a mistake for you to learn from. We have no time for recriminations and must see what we can do to help Logan. Perhaps we can tackle this as a team? Hank, you, and me. Hank is already trying to see if there are any more clues in the bio data to indicate what Neural Net was up to. With Logan having your memories, it seems most appropriate for you to conduct any mental probing or psychological investigations. As for me, I have serious doubts that Neural Net was acting alone, but we will need more data about how much of this effect was caused by the events of the night you dream walked with him and how much is Neural Net’s trap. So, I'll look over the sleep data and lab tapes and see if I can get some differentiating clue and maybe even something about how we can undo this.”

Jean stiffened, her tears momentarily forgotten at the mention of the tapes.

“But,” began Charles, unaware of Jean's reaction, “The question of why Neural Net would transform Logan into your exact duplicate probably has to take precedence. If there is another actor in this drama, we will need to identify them as soon as possible. So I guess I'm going to have to confer with Hank for a little while. I think we'll be better served if we get some more information on the cause of the physical change. So, having reviewed it aloud, perhaps we can view the tapes later, even if they might prove to have some interesting information?”

“I.. I think that's fine,” Jean tried to hide the relief from her voice. “I think I'll go check up on my twin.”

>>X<<

During the conversation between Charles and Jean, her twin was standing on Jean's balcony smoking a cigar. Disgusted that the taste just wasn't the same, he threw it into one of the lily ponds below. Wearing one of Jean's silk robes, Logan was still glowing from an orgasm he had while “playing.”

Soon after Jean dropped him off to take a shower, he began undressing in front of the mirror. He was struck by the fact that until recently, the sight of Jean undressing would have been an incredible turn on. Now, it was more intellectually stimulating than physical. Because now he had a lifetime of memories of it, a lifetime of familiarity. He could still remember his male viewpoint and his desire for Jean as well. This, in turn, triggered other, more sexual memories that he had inherited from Jean's life.

He tried to ignore the memories of sex with Cyclops and thought instead about Jean's body. He found that this led him to Jean's masturbation memories. He could clearly recall how she would lay back on the bed, stroke and twist her nipples and play with the lips of her labia.

He mimicked the pose he remembered and began to stroke his own breasts. His nipples responded by engorging almost immediately and he felt his pussy begin to lubricate. While he knew from his “Jean” memories that this wasn’t exactly normal behavior for Jean to be so horny, he felt in his defense that this was far from a normal situation.

Slowly he worked his palms closer to the nipples as he stroked his breasts. The feel of tits in his hands was familiar, but the tension and anticipation of having his nipples caressed was totally foreign to the part of him that was Logan, while deliciously familiar to the Jean part of him. Then he began to run his palms over both nipples. Even though he half expected the palms to feel rough, the soft skin of his current hands touching the nipples was still electric. He sighed and arched his back. The movement made the wetness between his legs even more clear.

Logan reached his right hand down to his pussy and stroked slowly along the length of his outer labia. It was just beginning to become wet there on his outer lips. As he slipped a finger in, the fluids began to make even his outer labia slippery. Logan continued to rub his left tit with his hand and alternately pull and twist at the nipple. He slowly began to stroke deeper and harder into his vagina. Soon, he had two fingers sliding along his entrance, spreading the lips apart. When his pussy was fully engorged and beginning to spasm with little thrills of anticipation, he began to slip one finger very lightly around the hood of his clitoris. The pleasure was all-consuming; it seemed to flow from his breasts to his pussy and all through his body. He could feel his vaginal walls bearing down on an imaginary intruder as he built towards an orgasm. His hands began moving quickly as the rest of his body stiffened. His hand pressed hard into his breast and squeezed the nipple between his fingers. He pressed the flat of his palm onto his clit as he rubbed furiously at his pussy and came. The orgasm forced a soft cry from his throat as his back rose off the bed offering his erect nipples and sweating, heaving breasts to some invisible lover.

After he had come down from the orgasm and the little aftershocks had become more of a series of quiverings, Logan wondered if it was always like this for Jean. He was a little unsettled when the thought came almost unbidden in response, “That's nothing compared to getting fucked by Scott.”

The images that came along with that thought were the reason that Logan had gotten up, found his cigars, and gone out onto the balcony in just Jean's silk robe.

So lost in thought was Logan, that he didn't register the significance of the sounds coming from behind him until he felt hands on his arms. The scent of the person behind him was very familiar. But, Logan was still shocked when Scott turned him around, kissed him on the lips, and held him against his chest.

However, Logan wasn’t entirely sure that the reason he didn’t make a move to stop Scott was just because of his level of surprise.

“Jean, I was so worried about you. I heard some of what happened - I just got back from a debrief with Dr. MacTaggert. I’m sorry I couldn’t get back sooner. I heard something happened to Logan when he rescued you? I know this must be hard on you, but I'm here now.”

He pulled back and looked at Jean, who seemed to him to be a little flustered. She also looked damned sexy in that robe. The robe had loosened and Jean's breasts were nearly falling out of it. Just the way she was standing there, and that look in her eyes seemed – more sensual, erotic than usual. “God, Baby, you look so sexy. I’ve never seen you look hotter.”

“Scott, I think we should talk,” began Logan. He was still very aroused, and the fact that Scott was the main protagonist in most of the sexual memories he was tapping into right now was very confusing.

Scott looked at this gorgeous creature, with her hair fairly wild and her eyes half-closed, it was as if she was sex personified. Scott reached a hand into her robe and touched her breast, drawing a sharp intake of breath from “Jean”.

“Why don't we talk… after?” suggested Scott as his thumb tweaked Jean’s nipple and he brought his mouth to her neck (which he knew drove her nuts).

“Have you been smoking?” He looked up towards Jean’s eyes, which seemed to be dancing back and forth, as if she was trying to decide what to do. “Or, do you have something to tell me?” He didn’t move, hoping that this little seduction could continue, but he definitely didn’t trust Logan.

“What the Hell do you think you’re doing?” came a very angry voice from within Jean’s room. At exactly the same moment, Scott realized that something hard and sharp was pressing against his erection.

Scott turned to look into the room where a very pissed-off Jean Grey was standing with her hair perfect and fully dressed – hands on hips and fire practically dancing from her eyes. Scott leaped backward as if the girl in his arms had suddenly become white-hot. He looked at the girl in Jean’s robe, trying to get some clue, something that could explain the blade extending from her right knuckle where it had been pressed against his hard cock. “Jean?” he asked.

“Not exactly, bub,” said Wolverine, withdrawing his claw and crossing his arms over his breasts to hide his erect nipples.

“Well?” asked an infuriated Jean, her head snapping back and forth between the two figures.

“Scott was just telling me how I’ve, or you’ve, never looked sexier,” said Logan with a lopsided grin that Scott could never have imagined on Jean’s face.

As Scott continued to stare and Jean changed her position to focus her glare exclusively on Scott, Logan pulled out the cigar he’d put in the pocket of the robe and lit it, even if just to mess with Scott further.

“Isn’t that right, Scott?” He exhaled the smoke and stood with his robe hanging open to the point where his breasts were exposed right up to the areola.

Scott found himself looking back and forth between the two women, exact copies, but still very different. He had some difficulty tearing his eyes from Logan’s décolletage and he had no idea what to say to Jean. “Jean,” he began, his hands out, imploring her to have pity on him. “I didn’t know – I thought it was you. Nothing happened.”

“I’m supposed to feel better knowing that you couldn’t tell me apart from someone who was a guy up until recently? And that the only reason you weren’t screwing him was because I walked in?”

Jean moved towards Scott as she said this, his arms raised in a protective gesture as he realized she was actually getting angrier.

“Castration would have been much more likely,” offered Logan around his cigar as he took another puff.

“It may still be,” Jean said through clenched teeth.

“X-MEN, I NEED YOU!” came a mental voice in all their heads. Charles had called them to his office.

“I will deal with you later, we need to get going,” said Jean as she turned to leave.

“Bub, you better hope this is Armageddon,” said Logan.

“I’ll deal with BOTH of you,” clarified Jean.

 

 

IN OUR NEXT STRATEGIC ISSUE, WE SEE IF THE WOLVERINE CAN REJOIN THE UNCANNY X-MEN AND WHETHER SCOTT WILL SURVIVE IN THE FERAL SAGA - NEW PLAYER!

Goodness, the cheese abounds!

End Note:
I really want to know what you think of the story, so please comment. It doesn't have to be positive but if you have a correction, a DM would be more appropriate than a comment, so we don't bore everyone else with trivialities. If you want to discuss your thinking on consent or rape, then I'd suggest your blog would be the place to do that, not here. If you are upset that this story contained violence, graphic sex, non consensual actions, or mind control even after all my warnings and flags then I can't help you. If you want to demonstrate your superior knowledge of all things X-Men, please save it and just make lots of smug faces as you read my egregious errors. I'm here to have some fun and I hope I have provided you with some as well. ‘Nuff said. Until next time - Excelsior!