POWER GAMBIT 2
Dedicated to BJ, my one fan and guiding light
*
During the fight Logan has leaned against a wall looking at
Remy - not knowing a smile is on his lips - savouring Gambit's
lightning quick moves, his cunning, his reflexes, his strength, his
staying power – but he knows all about *that*, doesn't he? -
Gambit in action is the poetry of motion is music is a dance of
high flying sex and Logan cannot stay mad at him. He's a warrior
and a soldier and he cannot but appreciate the lethal grace that
has brought him down. `But he'll pay for it, all the same' he has
thought and now is trying to work out how to do it. They are at
table doing a postmortem on the morning exercise. Remy is
picking at the heaped plate of food the Wolverine has put before
him. In the plate all the things he hates but his mood seems to
have shifted so he silently eats a bit and pokes his fork around.
Rogue is speaking "… now don't tell me anything, I know I was
overconfident and not focused enough. Gambit just took me by
surprise, I wasn't expecting him to creep back of me." Looking at
the morose young man she adds "I didn't know you were strong
enough to tackle me, Remy." But the Cajun is silent, head bent
down, like a scolded schoolboy. She waits a bit and Hank who
has not taken defeat well says: "Make him answer, please,
Logan." That's easy, the boy never disobeys when someone
else asks Logan to make him do something – maybe because it
doesn't happen very often – so Logan nods and says "Answer
the lady." On the other hand the boy seems not to like Hank
anymore and to have woken up in a perfectly contrary mood, he's
not eating as much as he should, notwithstanding his order and
anything can happen. Logan has never been forced to a public
confrontation about his so-called control of his boy and doesn't
relish a brawl at all, so, to make sure, he ups his volume a bit
and repeats "Answer the lady!" and is dumbfounded to see
Remy's mouth drop open, his eyes confused in a kind of shock.
"What?!" he croaks.
Remy takes a deep breath "Are you deaf, Logan, or are you
chasing the butterflies in your head?" he says severely "I was
explaining."
"Sss…" Logan stops himself just in time before he apologises.
How can this bloody man make him do a thing like that? And
now what can he say that will not make him look foolish in front
of everyone? `damn the kid, bloody teasing bastard, I'll make him
pay for this, pay and pay for this' Yes, well but he has to say
something now, hasn't he? "'m not interested in your stupid
ramblings" he mumbles, his eyes like blowtorches would
incinerate the boy on the spot.
Oddly this seems to cheer up the Cajun who goes on, smiling
"Remy not as stron' as Rogue, cherie, not by a mile. Is just
levers and fulcrums, y'know. Y' jus' grab where t'e forces meet
and y' can move mountains… bien, not as big, non? Mais big
enough. T'at's why I t'rew m'cards at you, cherie, to make you
lose balance."
"You did, Remy, you did. Never thought danger could come from
someone on the ground. I'll be more careful in future and you
won't get me twice."
"Won't ever be tryin' again, cherie, Remy not so stupid."
"Well" Hank says trying to salvage his hurt pride "I must say that
your plan worked wonderfully, Storm. I always thought you were a
great strategist and was the first to approve you as team leader."
Ororo laughs "It wasn't my plan, Hank, it was all Remy's plan. He
even told me to say no and nix it to confuse you further. My
brother's the great strategist and it's time you all realised it. I
*always* follow his plans. They are reckless and suicidal but
they always work."
"Ah." A boy should not make plans, should be a good foot
soldier, a good fighter, even, but plans are the province of the
masters. Logan is a disappointment then, he cannot really
control his boy, he needs advice, expert advice. Gambit is
laughing, the oddly elated mood that has taken him shows no
sign of dissipating. Let's see what a gentle prod will do. "By the
way, Remy, you should be in infirmary, I saw you limping and
nursing a wrist." Why can those infernal eyes make him feel
naked, stripped of even his fur? Nobody can read his controlled
body language, but that blasted Cajun seems to read his
thoughts.
"No, thank you" Clipped and brief, clearly demarking another
territory.
But his hands and feet had loved the feel of the body beneath,
the tensile strength, the lean elegance of it and want more. A
good old deep examination to which even Logan can say nothing
would be so satisfying… `He talks to me as he talk to Logan, is
this an invitation, a dare, what?'
"Logan," Hank says "bring him to the lab at 4."
OUCH! Logan quickly jumps in before Remy can say anything
"Leave him alone, my boy can take anything and then some.
Look to your useless plaything, he cost us the game today.
Where was he, Hank, in dreamland? He was slow" it's good to
let some anger out with no consequences, it feels good to be
able to spit at somebody without having to beat the hell out of
them. "He was stupid, he tried the same trick twice and he didn't
guard any of us." There, he lets out a satisfied breath.
Hank's fur stands out and he huffs "I noticed, thank you,
Wolverine. He will not repeat those mistakes. Ever again." He
add ominously.
"You're so boring" Jean says coming in "all this male posturing.
It was a friendly bout, not a life or death situation. I'm with Ro,
Remy's tactics were better than yours. In fact, my dear Hank, you
didn't have any."
"You can talk, Red" Logan grins – nobody dumps on Remy but
him – "but you weren't being beaten left right and centre."
Remy scowls, he doesn't much like the fact that Logan can talk
so freely to Jean - he can as well, of course, it's easy to talk to
Jean – but she is the only person Logan can be relaxed with and
he is out of that circuit, of that easy give and take between
equals.
"Storm and Remy won my bet for me." Jean ruffles an
unresponsive Cajun's hair "I told Charles you would come up
with something, pet."
Remy shakes his head lightly, almost nuzzling into the hand. "No
great deal, cherie" he says "go for t'e strongest and t'row all y'
have on t'e table. `s my philosophy." He adds looking
meaningfully at Logan.
*
R & R time. Some go out, some go to bed. Gambit is on the
lake's bank reading a book. Warren creeps behind him and puts
his hand on his chest – YES! He's still wearing nipple clamps –
and caresses oilily.
"So what say to a snuggle, cockroach eyes?"
"Vat'en foutre (1), Warren, fuck off."
"Don't be like this, *boy*, or I'm gonna tell your master. May even
ask you for some quality time with you. I don't think he will refuse,
the way he's been treating you lately."
A bit of paper from the book explodes on Warren's fingers,
making him hiss and let go. "Are you braindead? Fuck off."
"You'll pay for this!"
"Yes yes and you will now fuck off and mouth your threats
someplace else."
"How the fuck are you talking, Cajun? Who do you think you're
fooling?"
"Go play with yourself, Warren, my patience is at an end." And
another blast of paper nearly takes off Warren's nose.
The thing that irks Warren most is the fact that Remy has not
even once looked at him, has actually brushed him off as if he
were a fly. He stomps away seeking revenge.
Scott sees him go and smiles. `Stupid git' he thinks and is
rebuked by a silent °manners!° `Please forgive my queen' he is
all repentance now `I forgot myself. You'll punish me now or
later?' °Later, pet, am too busy now and you have things to do as
well. We'll tackle the problem of Warren with the professor. Now
do as you're told.° Scott bows his head in humble
acknowledgement and calls out: "Remy? Is it alright if I join you?"
Gambit smiles secretly – nice Scott all silk and fire – and says
"Mais oui."
Scott sits near him "Nice book?"
"Interestin' but a bit boring."
Remy closes the book and smiles at Scott through slitted eyes.
"Viens, mon ami(2)." He says and leans back on Scott chest
when he sits nearer.
Scott arms encircle the thin shoulders and he kisses lightly the
exposed neck. "You push Logan too far" he murmurs "He's not a
man to toy with."
"Mmm, non, that's were you're wrong, mon ami, he `xactly a man
to toy with, `s got a trigger happy temper, you wiggle a fingers
and bang! I would never toy with you, cher, you take it to heart."
A few months ago Scott would be shocked by such an easy
insight, but time had taught him a few thing about the exotic
creature relaxing against him, so he hugs him a bit harder and
says simply: "Do you need me?"
"Would like to, but couldn't, cher. Would you mind jus' holding
me for a bit?"
"No, dear friend, not at all. You're a nice armful."
And Remy sighs "Merci. Remy wishes… Non, mon ami, and
you're a nice armful y'self."
*
Logan has to get away from the mansion. He really doesn't mind
being beaten this morning – hell, it was a fair fight – and is even
rather proud of Remy for resisting so well Hank's tactics, but he
doesn't want to face the boy just now. If truth be told he isn't
relishing the coming night session, the Cajun has a way of
making him lose his temper and always go a bit farther than he
intended. Now if he were like Bobby, all nice juicy submission,
they could go somewhere, but he isn't into rape all that much
and the constant fights are starting to wear him off. Oh, well,
Hank has planted an useful notion into his head and he's going
to see if it can be put in practice. The idea of putting it into
practice is causing things to him. Mmm… nice things… who
knows, it may even work besides teaching the boy a lesson for
sure.
*
Bedtime and, as usual, Remy is studying his lover with a
disconcerting intensity. Logan whistles tunelessly and chooses
the restraints with care.
Silk? Steel? Leather? Remembering the Cajun's wrist is
sprained he chooses padded leather bands with steel
attachments. Tonight he's into limiting physical damages, he's
going to attack Remy's mindset. "Undress and get into bed", he
tells him, expecting him to do nothing of the kind and is mildly
shocked when Remy does just that. All that naked glory sits
rather primly on the bed and waits. "Kneel towards the rail" he
knows he's pushing his luck, but can't resist it.
*
"Hands back. On your knees pet." Jean is an ocean of calm
authority. Smiling fondly Scott kneels and stretches his arms
behind his back, wrists together as if bound, his heart is
pounding in anticipation – will she whip him? Scratch him to
blood? Slam a dildo up his ass and make him bend back? – he
will not disgrace what they have by moving his hands and arms
an inch, if he can help it. She is gracious in punishment and
reward and he knows he has somewhat overextended his
boundaries. Ah… the knotted whip. He trembles in arousal and
wastes a fleeting thought on his young friend `why can't he see
it's such a joy to give your entire life to another?'
*
"Kneel, I said."
"Do you know what you're doing, Logan?"
"Kneel dammit!"
Remy has not moved, has not stopped scrutinising every inch of
his face, every passing light in his eyes. "Make me." He says,
curtly.
The Wolverine is on him punching him hard in the stomach, then
catches the curling shoulders and pushes down down down
until the boy is bent awkwardly on the bed. The padded band is
around the sprained wrist – is that a gasp? – and the hand
forced up. One arm nailed to the rail. The next should be easier
but it's like trying to hold a snake – a very slippery snake – and
he punches again at moving flesh – yes, that *was* a gasp –
and the second band is in place. Now to tie that to rail without
breaking bones… Why must it always come to this? Logan
squeezes the unprotected thrashing throat until the body
slumps. Not a peep, not a groan out of the stubborn Cajun, but
now he's securely tied. In a moment the ankles are tied, right
over left, double eight, making the feet useless, then more slowly
the knee-parting bar wide and heavy. A strong tug up and the
reviving boy is in place. Now for the blindfold… there. Gag?
Logan doesn't want to hear Remy talk, that insufferable voice
can make him lose control, and he doesn't want to lose control
tonight. Mouth-ring. He will hate that, can't talk through it, just
mumble incomprehensibly. There! All ready now. Lesson is
about to begin.
*
"Ah, never knew spandex could be so satisfyin'"
"You never knew much, girl mine."
"Yo' so right, dahling. Com' on, devastate me!"
Ororo laughs her exciting laugh and says, choking, "Let myself
be devastated by you more like. Ready, lover?"
"As Ah'll ever be, lover."
*
"I won't, I swear I won't, master! Please, I won't anymore!" Bobby
is weeping and snuffling in pain and despair.
"Yes, you are sincere now, but you understand that I have to
make sure." even with his boy Hank cannot bring himself to
acknowledge defeat, "I'm not punishing you for this morning
session, I just want you never to behave like that in a combat
situation. That's why I have to make sure you remember what it
means to endanger your teammates. I have to make sure you'll
do anything rather than be punished like this again. Do you
understand?"
"Y-yes master…" to the hammer of a inner voice screaming `why
can't you do things right? Why can't you be worthy of your
master's praise? Why can't you think? Why can't you think
anymore?'
*
Remy knows what's going to come, how can Logan fondly
imagine he's not been there before? How can he not realise
nothing he does is a first for him? He hates the whip – he hates
everything, actually, but the whip is one of his pet hates – hates
losing control of that exquisite instrument, his trained body, and
the position he's forced in tells him so clearly his resistance will
be short. As the first lash connects he feels the pull of his
training and wants to take it, lean into the pain and make it
something more than simple pleasure, but that would defeat his
purpose, but that would make everything he's been through vain
and useless, but that would really be the final defeat, so he
fights, grunting, gasping, writhing, finally screaming, fighting the
pain, not letting it become heady wine, fighting his own body as
much as the merciless hand striping him from shoulders to
buttocks – thank all the gods Logan's a simple honest direct
man and has no idea how much words would hurt now, would
erode defences and maybe win the day.
Logan whips his boy with a barely controlled fury, one lash after
another, his arm not tiring, he can keep this up for hours, striping
white flesh, drawing beads of blood, marring the muscles' pure
line. When he's finished, all the long back and small perfect
globes lined with scarlet, he stops and surveys his handiwork.
He wants the body, now, wants to sink his strong fat cock into the
puckering rosebud, but *that* was not the point of this lesson.
Panting with desire he frees one hand and then the other and
clips them together brushing the sensitive back.
Remy has stopped screaming and the sound of his breathing is
like tearing silk. When he doesn't feel his beloved cock near he
realises what is going to happen and flinches. `Who told my nice
honest Logan this? That connard Hank, bien sur(3), wants to
make Wolverine a beast, less than man… Mordieu(4), nothing I
can do, nothing I can say with this thing in my mouth. Dieu de
voleurs aide moi(5)'
*
Warren dreaming of what he can do to Gambit once he has him
in his hands pumps violently and sags, coming into the bed like
a wet dream.
*
"Lesson one" Logan rasps "never fight me, hot whore." And
slams the dildo into the defenceless asshole. It's the biggest he
could bring himself to use and it's no bed of roses.
"Lesson two" twining the black rubber band into the cleft and
around the hips and around each ball and around the base of
the limp – limp, dammit! – cock and around the hips again and
between the legs and up into the cleft around and around and
around until the thing is firmly lodged and unmoveable. "never
give me your lip again, never use that fake British comedy accent
on me, never dare disobey me again."
"Lesson three", he grabs the rigid body and heaves it off the bed
slamming it ungraciously on the floor.
Remy makes a long shuddering sound at the contact and fights
to remain relaxed under the pressure his body's in.
"Lesson four" and the powerful fat cock is forced down into the
helpless boy throat "learn to admit you enjoy it, boy, learn to
praise your master for what he gives you."
`Prie dieu!(6)' Remy gorge rises `he's trying to become Hank!
What to do now? Merde! Think, Remy, think, now it's the cage
and he thinks he has it solved!'
Ahhh, he can't do fuck shit, can he, now? Hank was right, a
blocked mouth can be sweet too, even if there's a nagging little
voice saying `bet if you let his mouth free you'll find out what a
heavenly cocksucker he is'. He comes hard and powerful in the
vulnerable mouth and feels in control, for once. Doesn't matter
that the boy's cock is still limp, don't need a hard on to measure
my pleasure. Now for the best part. Once more he grabs the
powerless body and drags – he could carry him, but dragging is
so satisfying – it to the wardrobe, where he has already placed
the cage he has bought in the afternoon.
"Surprise!" he crows "new bedroom for you, boy. Now to get you
settled.
He pushes the Cajun into the narrow steel cage and ties his
bound hands to the roof, forcing his face to the floor. Now the
ankles. A couple of deep rubbings on the bound cleft, to make
the dildo work in, and it's goodnight boy. There you stay, and not
for a few hours either.
*
Time is slow dripping of hurt and violation, but Remy is too sad
for his love to feel it. `Oh, mon amour', the last tired thought
before he falls asleep `what have they done to you?'
*
TBC
TRANSLATIONS
1 Go fuck off
2 Come, my friend
3 that asshole Hank for sure
4 God's death
5 God of thieves help me
6 By the love of God