Logan yawned and rolled on to his back, his eyes still closed. The floor was tough, but warm. For a moment he thought he was back in gladiators’ barrack, tired after countless fights, getting his strength back. The clinging of the chains fit into place – gladiators were usually kept cuffed if not on the arena.

The surface felt way too hard though, until his sleep befuddled mind realized the reason – he was lacking clothes.

One moment he was wide awake, crouching on the floor, ready to strike down whoever appeared to be a threat – and the next moment he was already sitting down again, grim statement on his face, his eyes dark chasms. Knowing, that here he couldn’t do such a thing.

The whole room was made to be just like an exotic tropical forest. Small stones covered the ground, various plants were all around, the waterfall/shower by the wall looked amazingly natural, the water from it making a circle around the large lake/pool in the center of the room, but not connecting to it. The place would have looked like a true abandoned forest, if not for the lack of birds’ singing, and quiet splashing in the lake.

Remy swam closer to the edge of the large pool and placed his hands on the edge, his chin on his hands. “How’re y’ doin’?”

“Fantastic.” Logan snorted. ~You try to pull anythin’ again and I’ll rip yer head off, even if it’s the last thing I ever do.~ Yet the image of the boy who brought him the bowl yesterday didn’t leave his mind. With a small sting inside, he realized the young man in the pool had nothing to do with that boy – it was his master again.

LeBeau tilted his head to the side, examining the man in front of him. “Y’ betta take a shower, mon chien.” he murmured, and Logan’s upper lip pulled up into an involuntary snarl. But he was dirty, he knew that. The dried blood was practically covering his inner thighs and buttocks. Besides, the cool shower was a necessity in order to get himself back to normal.

With another growl Wolverine got up and paced to the waterfall. He stepped under the stream, enjoying its freshness and coolness, letting it run over his head. For some time he just closed his eyes and gave into sensation, oblivious to Remy’s stare that seemed to be glued to him.

Again LeBeau tilted his head to the side, laying his cheek on his arm, and watched the man get under the stream. The water ran over the tough frame, cladding the muscular body with a transparent glistening outfit, and Remy didn’t seem to be able to tear his eyes from the man. Not handsome at all – yet there was something about him, something like… perfection.

Logan finally stepped out from under the stream and sat on the ground, feeling clean once more… at least on the outside. Inside he still felt dirty and cheap, ugly like the slut he was. ~It wasn’t ya who wanted it. Ya tried everything for it not ta happen~ ~But ya enjoyed it, ya had a hard-on~ the tiny voice teased. ~My body enjoyed it, not me~ he snapped. The tiny voice answered with a small chuckle.

“Come here.” Remy motioned to the pool, and Wolverine’s face twisted in disgust. He remained on the ground.

He didn’t see the young man doing anything, there were no moves or signs that Logan could see. He didn’t hear the boys coming either. But in a second he felt two hands on each shoulder – two black hands that he knew were strong enough to break his bones. He froze on the spot, deciding it was the best option now to stay low – just to be sure he’d stay intact for at least some more minutes.

Remy smiled with just the corners of his lips. “Y’ either come here, mon chiot” he murmured, “Or dese boys bring y’ here in a second.”

It didn’t take Logan much to imagine the black-skinned boys throwing him into the pool and holding him under the water until he was half-dead from suffocation. Gritting his teeth, he made several steps and sank into the warm water of the pool.

He stopped at the very edge, freezing where he was, seeing his master swimming towards him. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry, but he was beside Logan in several sleek strokes, and Logan felt a sudden unwanted appreciation of the young man’s body shape.

Stopping several feet away, Remy got upright and walked through the water to the man, who met his curious cheerful eyes with a stare so cold it could have frozen the entire pool.

“De water’s nice, isn’t ‘t?” he questioned in the same peculiar accent. Logan grunted something incoherent. Remy leaned closer, innocently brushing his fingers over the hairy cover of Wolverine’s chest. The man stiffened at the touch, but forced himself not to draw back – it wasn’t going to lead to any better things anyway.

“Y’ keep fascinatin’ me, mon chien” he murmured, “So volatile, it hurts to see you dis way…”

The upper lip of the man trembled in a barely contained snarl.

“I like y’r body, my pet. De one o’ a fighter” thin fingers ran along the muscular arm, and Remy chuckled, as he felt it tensing under his touch.

“Y’ may as well just relax an’ enjoy” he traveled his hand over the hairy chest, looking for stiff nipples…

~He’s gonna use ye as a pleasure slave, Logan.~ The thought was sharp and clear… and frightening. ~You won’t fight or work or anything – he’ll just fuck ye over an’ over again, like those li’l pretty boys they sell in brothels. You – the fighter, the volatile creature, the one called Wolverine for his temper – stretched on the bed, having the over-bored kiddo fucking you whenever he wants, wherever he wants and any way his sick mind chooses… Will you handle that? Will you feel like worth to live another day?~

Short yelp came from the fellow, when his hand suddenly appeared in vice-grisp of strong fingers. Logan pulled him closer, turning him to face him with his back and pressing his closely to his own body. One arm went firmly around Remy’s frame, while another one locked over his throat.

The black guards were here already, yet they froze dead on their tracks the moment Logan got a hold of their Master.

“Ye make a step after me – his fucker’s dead” Wolverine warned them harshly, his hand ready to snap fellow’s neck. He pulled them both out of the pool, the boy practically hanging in his hands, and stepped to the door.

“Open it” he ordered with a hiss, and fellow obliged. He was still scared, yes, yet he was no more shocked. He shivered slightly, and Logan tightened his grisp.

As the shock passed, Remy finally acknowledged himself being in a firm hold of his new slave. The hold was hard, almost hurting, yet… there was something in the way the man was holding him. Strength. Hot surface of the skin. Ribcage, moving in wary breaths, and breathing itself right near Remy’s neck – the man was a bit shorter than him.

The smell of danger was intoxicating, and Remy felt himself giving into it, willing to give the man illusion of control – just for the feeling that was already making his skin turn goose.

A shiver ran down his spine to settle in his lower belly.

Logan pulled him along the corridor, then upstairs, looking around all the way, his breath coming in short gasps. Here was his chance – now or never. He’ll be free – or he’ll be dead, no Master will let him go after what he did.

“Where now?”

Remy pointed at the door to the left.

“Y’ won’ escape, mon chiot” he informed in a quiet voice. Suddenly Wolverine stopped and yanked back a handful of his hair.

~That nice silky hair, fine like an expensive cloth, even in a tight grisp if feels great – what would it be like to run my fingers through it?…~

“I will escape, fucker. And don’ dare to call me chiot again” he growled and pulled him forward.

Corridors, rooms, stairs, more rooms… it seemed never-ending, and Logan jerked the fellow irritated.

“Hope ye’r not foolin’ me, kid” he growled, baring his fangs. “Ye show me the right way, or ye’r dead” he said it like he meant it, and the kid shivered again.

“Me tellin’ y’ de truth” he murmured, and wasn’t Logan so caught up with the whole escape thing, he’d have noticed the strange tunes in that voice.

He kept on running, dragging the precious captive with him. The captive. The guarantee for his life. The guarantee for his freedom.

More rooms, corridors, another rooms, downstairs… it was all too weird. Too few guards around, none of them even trying to stop him. Sure thing, he was threatening to kill their master, yet…

The guards, yes – but there were no slaves around too. Not even a single servant. Logan’s nostrils flattered, and his pupils widened, as adrenaline rushed through his veins. It all looked wrong.

Remy was dragged down the stairs, and his heart was wildly pounding in his chest. The current escape seemed to be one of the best things in his lifetime. Agile. Desperate. Fighting. He inhaled deeply, feeling Logan’s wariness floating in the air.

The man behind him looked around once again, seeing no exit, and once more yanked his hair back. Remy hissed at that, and decided it was the right time to end up the whole thing. He had enough; and so did his chien.

“STOP FUCKIN’ FOOLIN’ ME!” Logan yelled, and suddenly a whip caught him around his throat, pulling him back even before he could react and dropping him on the floor.

Remy rubbed his neck and smiled slightly, sparks of pure joy in his alien eyes.

“Y’ did great, mon chiot” he nodded to Wolverine, paying no attention to his growl. “It was lon’ time since I enjoyed it dat much”.

The soft sultry voice of the kid was driving Logan insane, as if pouring acid over his brain. The whole thing was a well played theatre for the sick bastard! His desperate hope for freedom was just a play for the bored kid seeking risk. And he believed he’d be free soon. Fool…

Logan felt he could no more contain his fury. He wasn’t some damn dog to play with like that, to talk like that! The damn kid wasn’t even angry, no – instead he was petting him, obviously pleased with the whole thing!

Driven by rage and desperation, he jumped at the fellow – just to be yanked back on the floor by the whip that was still around his neck.

For a moment he felt cold hands over his wrists – and the next second his wrists were tied with the end of the whip, pulled so high to his neck every movement caused pain to sear through all his joints. The long chain of his cuffs that were still on, had nowhere to go but under his back, hurting like bitch.

The black guards stepped back, and Remy waved his hand dismissively for them to leave.

In a flash they were alone. Same corridor. Same walls. Even Logan’s heart didn’t quite return to normal pace. Minute ago he felt almost free – and now a ball rose in his throat.

They were playing with him, they let him think he had a chance to escape – when he never had. All he thought was his own luck was in real just the wish of crazy fellow who wanted to feel himself at his slave’s mercy – for a while, just to feel the taste of the danger. He knew those black twins will never let him die – so he tried.

Now he was circling the laying man, a smirk on his face, his eyes sparkling with lust. Logan bit into his lip to fight down a tear of desperation and self-loathing. Him, an adult man, didn’t recognize the trap that fucking fellow made for him – he just blindly stepped into it like a newborn…

Remy bent down and ran his finger through the coarse hair on Logan’s chest, then sneaked up to his neck, until hands were caressing his cheek with almost lovely gesture.

Logan tried to pull away, and hissed in pain that shot up his arms. Remy shook his head and ran his fingers through black hair.

“Y’ did good, mon choit” he sounded pleased, and the tunes encouraged Logan into another futile attack.

“Easy, cher’” LeBeau soothed, leaning down onto the floor to hover over his slave as if he was a prey. “Just relax” he moved closer, until his face was inches away from Wolverine’s, and licked man’s lips with the tip of his tongue.

Logan pulled away , but only banged the floor with the back of his head. Hateful, hateful situation, hateful things had happened, and worse were yet to come.

~Wish I was dead…~

Long lean body brushed over his, and he growled under his breath. Delicate fingers ran over his sides, up and down his arms and to his shoulders, touching only the hairy cover but not skin, teasing him with no shame.

“Come on! Fuck me an’ get it over with!” he roared at the fellow. If that had to happen, it better be quick. And then he’ll just go and die. He closed his eyes, bracing himself form what was to come.

Remy eyed the stiff form underneath and made a childish ‘tst-tst’ sound, shaking his head. His lips moved to the scruffy cheek and touched it with the lightest and the tenderest kiss Logan ever experienced.

“Me want mon chien t’ love dat” he murmured, tracing kisses along Logan’s jaw line. “Want t’ make mon chiot happy”.

“Ye’r chiot will be damn happy walking free!” Logan snapped, only to receive the same ‘tsk-tsk’ from Remy.

The fellow went on kissing, nibbling and playing with his slave’s body. ~He’s a miracle~ he thought, running his fingers all over the dark frame. ~Gorgeous creature, wild and untamed. Energy in every cell, waiting to rip free…~ He was mesmerized by the sight and feel, and wasn’t noticing, just didn’t want to see the tortured expression on the face of his captive.

Logan closed his eyes, the painful realization creeping into his mind, that it wasn’t gonna be fast and over soon. No, the sick kid was gonna make it long and sensual, as if he could enjoy it… couldn’t he? ~No~ he thought firmly. ~No. Never.~ He could feel feather-light touches, and the moan escaped his lips, the moan of utter helplessness…

The thought came so fast his eyes snapped open. There was the way to end it, yes. Shame, he didn’t think about it before. but now he knew… Closing his eyes again, he concentrated, pushing away the thoughts. Cold black pitch appeared in front of his mental stare. Just a step. He did it. Slowly he started falling into the pitch, into the coldness of the arctic ice. Deeper. Colder. No thoughts, just the icy coldness around. No space, no wind, nothing at all – the abyss, that was taking him in…

Back in real world Remy felt the man’s muscles relaxed, and smiled. He leaned to his chest to kiss it – and froze. The heartbeat was weakening. Getting on all fours, he quickly shifted up to man’s face and placed his palm against his half-open mouth. The faint wind, the ghost of breath, touched his skin.

That was when his eyes got wide in realization. Logan was shutting himself down…