Clenching one's jaw to mute a scream was all well and good, so long as ones jaw wasn't a roiling liquified metallic mush. Wolverine's scream finally rang out as Magneto began to reform his skeleton inside him, the metal tearing apart muscle and sinew as he did so.

Wolverine felt his pelvis widening. His upper ribs warped outwards, plumping out his chest, while his lower ribs crumpled in like a tin can. His healing factor fought against it, but it was flesh vs steel. As he'd learned from the Weapon-X program, steel always won out in the end, and his flesh would come to accept whatever form was forced upon it in time.

Magneto's fingers moved as if moulding clay. The cartilage in Wolverine's face crunched as the underlying metal bones reformed into delicate shapes. His brutish brow and neanderthal jaw were being smoothed out. His squat arms and legs were being teased out, elongated into slender limbs suited more for a model on a catwalk than a warrior.

Magneto rotated him, examined him. Reconstructing Logan’s bones had given him a feminine skeleton, yet that couldn't disguise the fact he was still distinctly male flesh stretched tight over it - a childbearing pelvis couldn't mask the coarse black body hair that coated his chest, or the potent musk.

“Let’s see about neutering this dog,” Magneto muttered.

Extending his senses to the metal within Logan, he guided a tendril of liquid adamantium along the arteries and veins leading to his crotch. To neuter Logan in physical, literal sense would be pointless of course - his manhood would always grow back. But he could be chemically neutered all the same. Magneto clenched his fist. The tendril of liquified adamantium constricted around the blood vessels leading out from Logan's manhood.

There was no outward damage to his male organ, and his healing factor would compensate for the lack of bloodflow, but as the blood flowing away his cock was blocked, so too was the supply of testosterone. Almost immediately the man’s healing factor turned against him. His accelerated metabolism burnt through his male hormones in mere minutes. Sensing the absence of testosterone, his cells defaulted to a new design, a female design. Very quickly, his male aspects were at odds with this defaulted blueprint, labelled as ‘damage’ to be ‘healed’ by his own body. His cells began to reform him into a woman.

Logan’s thick musculature softened. He sensed the weakening, his panicked need to fight growing just as the strength abandoned him. Fat deposits flowed like water beneath the skin, settling in his ass and breasts. A luscious crop of hair tore free from beneath the latex hood.

Only the cock remained, a symbol of the man he was still decorating his curvaceous body. It hung from him as he span in Magneto's grip. Engorged on the blood and testosterone that would never escape it, it throbbed painfully between Logan's soft swollen thighs, desperate for release.