Sessions
"Okay, Robert, we try again."
Bobby nodded. He took aim and made an overhand throwing
motion, sending a handful of ice-spikes into the target. "Yes!"
"Good work, homme."
You had to earn praise from Remy, but he was more encouraging
than any teacher Bobby had ever had before. "Forms next?"
"Oui. Y' getting' the hang of this."
Solid ice came first and took nothing but a thought. Slush
was harder to maintain, but getting easier. Water was by far the
hardest to do. Then, he went back to human, panting. He caught his
breath. "Hey, Gumbo."
"Oui?"
"Things okay with you and Logan?"
"Oui. Why y' askin'?"
"Well, you know the vents carry noises."
"Yeah."
"I heard, well, I mean, it sounded like he was smacking you
around and I got worried. I haven't seen any bruises, but its winter
and you wear so many layers."
Remy smiled. He set his hand on the side of Bobby's
neck. "Merci, cher, but he ain't hurtin' me, even if he does smack
me. Come on. This is a beer conversation. An' somewhere private, like
the old storeroom."
"Okay?" Bobby hesitated. "Is this going to be a privacy
lecture?"
"Non. Just gonna answer some questions."
*****
Bobby and Remy sat cross-legged on the storage room
floor. "Tell me what y' been hearin' Bobby."
"He orders you around and if you don't agree he hits you. And
I swear I heard him talking about a cage, but that's just crazy."
"Anyt'in' else?"
"He never calls you by name."
"Who in dis house does?"
"And. . . he programmed Sabretooth into that training session
when you got back from that art thing."
"Y' saw that session?"
"Yeah. What's going on, Gambit?"
"Y' ever heard of S and M?"
"I'm not *that* sheltered. But what. . . oh. You mean you and
Logan are. . . but why?"
"Why what, homme?"
"Why do it? He isn't forcing you into anything is he?"
"Non, Bobby, it ain't like that." Remy displayed his
wrist. "See this bracelet?"
"You wear it all the time."
"Oui, cher. This be Logan's symbol. It don't come off less'n
he takes it off or I decide t' dump him. Long as I'm wearin' it, he
knows I'm willin'."
Bobby touched the leather. The straps looked too tight. It
was molded to Remy's skin. "But why?"
"Oh, Robert, ain't no one positive on that. Some of it got t'
do wit' m' history. Some of it m' lovers. And some of it's m' powers."
Bobby leaned closer as Remy's voice fell. "Tell me more."
"We start wit' what I like, oui?"
"Okay."
"I ain't int' pain, Robert. Logan don' smack me all that
hard. Merde." Remy felt himself blushing. "Ain't never really talked
about this t' no one."
"Just keep going."
"Like being controlled. I hate makin' decisions when I don'
got t'. T'ink okay in the field, oui, but not in relationships. Only
decision I got t' make is do I trust Logan. And that ain't a hard
one. Logan, he take it from there. I ain't never had t' call the game
wit' him."
"What do you mean?" Bobby was listening eagerly. Remy
wondered idly who Bobby was thinking about.
"I got a word. Not t' mention m' powers."
"A word?"
"Je suis desole, Robert. Not explainin' too well. Oui, a
word. I say dat word, Logan'll stop. Not f'ever, but until I'm ready.
Gives me control."
"I thought it was about giving up control."
"Mais, a bit. Remy can't not have an out any more'n Stormy
could be sittin' here. Ain't somet'in' I can do. Can't trust no one
dat much. Logan, he's pushin' m' limits. Ain't easy on m', but he
knows what I need. Better'n me sometimes. An' he got a cage. A dog
carrier wit' a lock. Hold Remy mebbe 15 seconds or so. But it's up
here." Remy tapped his forehead.
"A cage. Holy shit." Bobby blinked.
"Y' been listenin' real ain't ya?'
Bobby blushed a furious shade of red. "Well, Rogue is so
frustrating!"
"I feel y'r pain," Remy deadpanned.
Bobby snickered. "I guess you do know what I mean. She
expects me to pay attention to her body, but not ouch her; show
affection, but not give her things. And let's not ever get into ideas
on clothing. You could've broken her in for me."
"She used t' be worse."
Bobby shook his head. "That's hard to imagine. How can being
in a cage be pleasurable?'
"Ain't about the physical, Icecube. Not f' m'. And it ain't
the cage that's gettin' m' off. It's Logan. I can't help m'self. He
don't even got t' touch m'. None of m' lovers ever have. My powers,
mais, m' psyche too, I think, get m' off. All someone's got t' do is
be hot f' m' or come in de same room and Bon Dieu it feels good."
"But punishment's a part of it?'
"Oui. Bein' alone's worst f' m', but don't y' go tellin'
Logan."
Bobby saluted. "He hits you."
"Sounds worse than it is, Robert. He don' hit me harder'n I
hit y' when y' be ignorin' me."
"It sounds louder than that."
"Has t' do wit' how y' hold y' hand."
"If I have more questions, I can ask, right?"
"Oui, Robert. Got t' do some work now, homme. See y' at
dinner."
*****
Remy flipped neatly across the room and up onto the ledge. He
slid along the wall to the next alcove. He ducked in for a moment to
plan out his next move. "Program suspended."
"Merde. What y' want?"
"Don't start," Scott said flatly. "Come to my office."
"I got time t' clean up?"
"You've got fifteen. Where's Logan?"
"Mediatin' I t'ink."
"I'll find him."
****
Remy was startled to find Xavier in Scott's office, but
didn't show it. He settled by Logan on the couch and slumped down,
crossing his ankles in front of him. Logan's arm settled around his
shoulders and he smiled shyly at his lover. Logan tended to eschew
public displays.
Scott closed the door and blocked off his link to
Jean. "We've combined the information from the police with what
Cerebro's indicates and the underground rumors. It's not a pretty
picture." Scott opened a state map. "The blue circles indicate
missing mutant children. The yellow indicate reports of requests
to 'adopt' mutant children. Green are the dead children. What's your
gut, Logan?"
"Organized hunt."
"Time's the factor," Remy said softly. "Ain't a hunt so much
as a buy out. Not all at one time, oui?"
"Two to five per area. More in the City."
"Dis don' count missin' runaways."
"No." Scott set a red dotted transparency over the
map. "These are mutant signatures that disappeared suddenly. At least
two more per location."
"Can we factor out the dead?" Logan asked, leaning forward.
Scott nodded. He pulled off the red and replaced it with pink
dots. "These are still missing."
"More'n half dead."
"Yes. Ideas?"
"Gotta stop this." Logan tapped the map.
"How 'bout new signatures?"
Scott set down a black dotted transparency.
"Only four? How long a period we seein' here?"
"One month."
Remy closed his eyes. "Sinister?"
"No evidence of that. No Magneto either. Or Brotherhood.
Well, maybe a couple. The FOH isn't this organized and they may be
responsible for a couple of these, but by no means all of these. The
only names I've been getting at all are The Velvet Ministry and The
Antiquary."
Remy's stomach seized and he doubled over. "Say again?"
"The Velvet Ministry and the Antiquary." Scott leaned forward
and caught Remy's eyes. "What's wrong?"
Logan shook his head. "Give the boy a second."
Scott cocked his head to the side. Logan nodded. Scott
grimaced and nodded once more. Xavier watched the exchange with
interest.
"Gotta make a call, den Remy'll have answers." Remy picked up
Scott's phone and dialed, staring numbly at the file cabinet behind
Scott's desk where the leader hid his scotch and cigarettes.
"Go ahead," Scott said waving to the cabinet.
"Merci." Remy pulled out the middle drawer. "Bonjour, Oncle
Stephan. Why de fuck is de Antiquary in town and ain't no body called
dis po boy?" He lit a cigarette, pulling out the ashtray and
scotch. "Bullshit." He took a gulp directly from the bottle, knowing
Scott wouldn't care. "He's killin'. Fuck y'all. Remy'll find de
connard hisself." He slammed down the phone.
There was a long moment of silence. Then, Scott said, "Well?"
"It's him."
"Bring the bottle." Scott sighed.
Remy settled next to Logan. "He needs more now."
"More what?"
"More power. He's a sorcerer. Immortal, but only if he got
another's life source. He take real good care of his pets, but only
if'n they obey. Got no qualms about killin', but that ain't all his
work. Bettin' the dead'ns are from other reasons me."
"How so?"
"Suicide. Drugs. FOH. Pimps. De ones dat just up and
disappeared, dey're his."
"Someone's been keeping track of this person?"
"Oui, Cyke. But he don' do anyt'in' y' can claim in court.
Oui, y' honor, dat's de man dat tried t' suck de life force outta m'.
Get y' fool ass locked up. 'Sides, he got secrets that're better kept
hidden. But he been t'rown outta Storyville. The Velvet Ministry is
his source of income. Massage parlors, non?"
"Ya grew up in a brothel?" Logan raised his brows.
"Only f' seven years."
"Christ," Logan muttered. "You and me're gonna have a real
long talk, boy."
"Oui, M. Logan." Remy rolled his eyes.
"How do we find him?" Scott asked.
Remy considered. "I ain't sure. Last I heard he was in
Moscow. Ask around f' him. He sells chilen."
"Sells?" Charles prompted. "Meaning?"
"Slavery, what else? Makes mo' money wit' his fillies, but
it's there. If'n they grab a flatscan he just sells it." Remy
shrugged.
Charles Xavier did not consider himself a violent man.
However, in this case there was nothing he wanted more than to track
down the man who had convinced Remy that selling people was a
legitimate way of making money and tear him into pieces. A quick
glance found those same sentiments reflected in Scott and Logan's
minds.
"Logan, will you look into this matter?"
"Sure, Chuck."
"Thank you for your assistance, Remy." Remy nodded. "From
here on out, I think it would be best if you were no longer involved."
Remy sneered. "Oui, M. Charles."
Xavier left them to work out the details.
"Scotty, I need t' be there," Remy said.
Scott looked at the Cajun for a long moment, but the young
man didn't cave. Cyclops nodded. "You'll be there at the end of
things. Don't worry."
"Merci, Cyke."
"How do you think we should approach this?"
"Don' t'ink it's a plannable t'ing." Remy sighed. "Y' got t'
be in the right place." Remy gave them a list of local places. "And
y' got t' be discrete an' y' need t' have somet'in' he wants."
"Such as?"
"Money. Power. Connections."
The phone rang. Scott answered. "Remy, it's for you."
"Yes? Papa! What's wrong? Y' do? Tell me." There was a long
pause as Remy scribbled on Scott's notepad. "Merci, papa. Je t'amie."
He hung up. "Here's the address Papa has f' him."
"Your father knows this bastard?"
"Oui. Papa t'rew him out of Nawlins."
"I'd have killed him," Logan stated.
"T'ieves don't kill patrons. Usually they be immortal so it
don't take, and that ain't worth the trouble."
"So, how do I make it stick, boy?"
"Don' know me. Wooden stake mebbe?" Scott smiled even as
Logan frowned. Logan patted his knee and Remy settled there.
"Me and Rems are gonna have a talk upstairs. Then, I'll track
this bastard down and shut him down."
"Come see me before you leave. I'll see what I can get for
you."
"Thanks, Slim. Come on, brat."
Remy and Logan ended up curled up on the faded, worn couch.
Remy's head was tucked neatly under Logan's chin. Logan held tight
and rocked gently. "It's okay, pet. Yer safe. I ain't gonna let
nothin' happen to ya." The Cajun settled more firmly into the embrace.
"Je t'amie, boss."
"Love you too, boy."
"Y be real careful."
"Don't worry about me, kid. Tell me somethin', Rems. Were ya
ever gonna tell me?"
"Non. Don' tell nobody 'bout him."
"Why not?"
"Told y' some before."
"I remember. But if he hadn't shown up?"
"Y' don' talk about Diablo."
Logan squeezed tighter. "I'll send him to Hell fer ya."
"Scotty won' like that."
"Only cuz he wants to do it. Yer mine now, Rems. Nobody can
touch ya."
"Dat's what y' tell m', but it's hard t' believe it. Don'
like the idea of y' goin' after him wit'out m'."
"And I don't want ya leavin' the Mansion 'til we've got him
dead to rights."
"Can't promise that."
"I know. I want ya alert, boy. Just remember. I'm comin' back
fer ya."
"D'accord, boss."
"Get yer collar. The black one." Remy chewed at his lip, but
complied. He hated the black one. It was smaller than the red and
wider than the brown, but it was metal underneath the leather one,
with an electronic lock. He'd made the damn thing at Logan's request.
He went down on his knees and presented the collar, throat bared to
accept it. Logan locked it on. He ran his finger along the edge of
it. It was perfectly fitted to his pet's throat. He pressed a finger
to Remy's lips and the Cajun suckled at it. Logan kissed Remy's
forehead. "Ya gonna be my good boy t'night?"
Remy nodded, sucking more urgently. There was nothing more
important than pleasing his boss. And if he was worrying about Logan,
he couldn't worry about anything else. "Strip." Logan's finger didn't
move and Remy didn't dare move away from it. His fingers trembled as
he unbuttoned his shirt and removed it, revealing bites and small
bruises. His jeans were next. Remy didn't bother with shoes in the
house. Soon he was naked and still on his knees. His cock was
stiffening rapidly. He ached for Logan.
Logan looked at his pet. Remy's eyes were properly lowered,
his knees spread, cock hard, his pretty pout otherwise occupied and
his hands were laid on his thighs. Such a pretty little pet, his
boy. "Corner. Now." Remy settled, staring at the corner, hands at the
back of his neck. Logan plugged his pet's ass first. Remy panted in
breaths as Logan toyed with him. He whimpered and wriggled. "Still."
Remy froze. Logan left him there, fighting his arousal. A wide
leather belt compressed Remy's waist and provided attachment points.
Remy whimpered. His arms were buckled down firmly to either side of
the belt.
Logan let his pet determine the range of movement the
position left his fingers. Satisfied that the thief couldn't undo the
buckles, Logan continued. The thick dildo gag came next, despite the
frantic shaking of his pet's head. He buckled it tightly enough to
make Remy whine and pull away. All that got him was a hard swat that
left a red imprint on the right cheek of his ass. A quick strap
around his ankles further bound him.
Logan left him there and went to catch up on the news. Remy
dragged breaths in through his nose, fighting his gag reflex. He
shifted almost constantly from knee to knee. He shook his hair back
from his face. The television provided a welcome distraction. Half an
hour later it was shut off. Remy felt something warm slide up his
spine and identified it as Logan's claw. The sharp edge knicked his
shoulder. He felt blood running down his back. The cut was over a
scar. He felt Logan's tongue cleaning the trickle with heavy swipes.
Remy wanted to protest, but the gag was too effective and the
attention felt too good.
Logan heard the deep contented purr and continued to nip and
such and lick at the abused shoulder-blade. Remy trembled in his
bonds, unable to really do anything but accept. Logan bit one fine
shoulder sharply and Remy jumped. "Mine, all mine, pet."
Remy nodded. Logan checked the circulation in the thief's
fingers. He sucked on each sensitive digit. Remy's hips rocked as his
cock stiffened further. Logan stroked the erection. Remy sobbed. His
fingers curled into light fists.
It was too much. Remy fought the straps on his arms. He
panted through his nose. His boss laughed at him. Then, a series of
heavy smacks reddened Remy's ass and jolted the plug. Remy pressed
his forehead to the floor. "Up, brat."
Remy sat up. The strap on his ankles was removed. He stood
when Logan pulled on his bangs. His legs were kicked apart. Logan
pressed Remy to the wall with one thick-fingered hand. The other one
removed the plug. Remy trembled in his Logan's grip. "Stay." Remy
whimpered, but didn't move. Logan opened his jeans. The sound was
over-loud in the near silent room. He jerked off, splattering Remy's
back. Remy moaned, lost in Logan's emotions and the tight grip that
kept him from following. Logan stroked himself to hardness once more.
He coated his erection with lube. He pressed up and into the heat of
Remy's sweet body.
Remy had no leverage. Logan thrust in and out lazily. Remy's
eyes closed and his world became the soft, appreciative growl in his
ears, the thick, hot length in his ass, the heavy hand on the back of
his skull pinning him to the wall, the rubber intruder in his mouth,
the warm, stiff leather constricting his waist and the smell of Logan
on his skin. Logan released the cock ring. Remy fought his need until
Logan hissed "come."
Remy came hard and slumped against Logan's grip. Logan
nuzzled the back of Remy's neck leaving a nice dark bruise. He
removed the gag and settled his pet on the bed. He cleaned up, then
shut off the lights. He settled next to his thief. He kissed the
young man gently.
"Love ya, pet."
"Je t'amie, boss," Remy whispered.
"Sleep."
Remy nodded and settled close to Logan.
"Sweet dreams, babe."

FINIS