Sunday Evening Post

Remy settled between Logan's legs as instructed. He snuggled
back against Logan's solid chest. He rubbed his cheek against Logan's
throat with a soft, muffled sigh. "If ya kept yer trap shut I
wouldn't need to gag ya, would I, pet?"
Remy shook his head with a resigned sigh. It was his own damn
fault for trying to charm Logan into going out when the Canadian had
made it clear they weren't leaving the mansion until the weather
cleared. He was certain that this time the gag would leave marks.
Logan had been pissed at the blatant misbehavior and thus the gag was
tighter than usual. Remy was miserable. He loathed the gag in spurts.
When he wasn't on the edge of screaming orgasm, he hated it. For
those few minutes of bliss, he welcomed it. It had been nearly four
hours since Logan had gagged him and put him on his knees for an
hour. The gag hadn't moved, but eventually, Logan had called him over
to read the Sunday paper with him.
Logan settled his arms around his pet, casually pinning down
his arms. He grinned as Remy settled more closely to him. He nuzzled
at Remy's throat and nipped gently. "Ya gonna be my good boy?"
Remy nodded and turned into the embrace, curling himself up
so he could tuck his head under Logan's chin. Logan's arms tightened.
He shook his head. "May just leave ya gagged fer the rest of yer
life. Ya ain't good when I take it off, even when ya promise. And
tyin' ya up sure ain't a punishment." Remy's breath was short and
fast. He didn't like the direction this was heading. "Seems to me we
gotta find some way to punish ya that actually works."
Remy squirmed until he could look up at Logan through his
bangs. His eyes were wide and Logan shook his head. "And ya don't
trust me. Damn it, pet, stop lookin' at me like that. I ain't gonna
hurt ya." Logan smirked. Remy whined, but didn't lift his hand to
undo the gag. It wasn't as if the thing was even locked on. "I think
I got just the thing fer next time ya piss me off." He smiled, but
Remy wasn't comforted by the look.
*****
"Come here, Cajun," Logan called. Remy looked up from his
book, eyes bleary.
"Just got one mo' chapter, cher," Remy purred.
"Come here, pet," Logan said more sternly. The thief gulped,
marked his place, and set down his book. He settled immediately on
his knees in front of Logan as the Canadian watched the television
screen behind him. Logan spread his knees and Remy settled closer,
resting his head on Logan's knee. Logan stroked Remy's bangs as he
finished his show. Remy's eyes were fixed on the tab of Logan's
zipper. He wanted to dart forward and tug it down with his teeth. He
didn't dart forward, he carefully moved himself closer to his target,
making it seem as if he were just settling down. Logan looked down
suspiciously, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Then, Remy
pounced, tugging down the zipper as his fingers undid the button, to
expose Logan's cock. The Canadian's hand fisted in his pet's hair. He
held the Cajun's head away from his groin with a growl. He didn't
move until the program ended. Remy's throat was bared by the firm
grip and his back arched. The thief was wearing a well-loved Saints
sweatshirt. It was his favorite green one so Logan didn't just shred
it. But it hid too much of his boy's body.
"Strip."
Remy gulped and did as he was told. He folded his clothes
quickly and precisely knowing that Logan didn't like sloppiness. He
settled on his knees, eyes down.
Logan ignored the swell of desire for the moment. The boy
looked sweet and submissive at the moment, but he was in a
mischievious mood. His lips were curled in his most irritating "I got
my way" smile. Well, Logan was going to get rid of that. He slapped
the thief and the legs spread wide. The clever fingers wove together
and settled behind the perfect throat. Pretty little boy. There was a
slight tremble in the strong limbs. The boy knew he was in the wrong.
Remy felt the flush traveling up his cheeks as Logan studied
him. The rug was rough against his knees. He could feel the dampness
of his hair from the shower they'd taken after the Danger Room
earlier. He could still taste the soap Logan had washed his mouth out
with when he'd started cursing in Japanese. Logan did nothing but
stare and fear curled in Remy's stomach. He swallowed hard.
Logan left him there and went outside for his evening smoke.
Remy remained where he was.
*****
Logan handed Scott a beer. The field leader looked as if he
could use one. His hair was spiked up on one side. He'd fallen asleep
at his desk again. Scott settled on the bench, slouched down and put
his feet up on the porch-rail. "Tired?" Logan asked.
"Yeah."
"So go to bed."
Scott shook his head. "Not yet."
Logan's brows rose. "Ya repayin' Jeannie fer taggin' ya this
afternoon?"
"She knocked me out, Logan. That's not tagging. Tagging is a
headache. She's been tagging me since she figured out how to do it."
"So that's why yer always in a mood."
"She got a nasty lecture from Hank and one from the
professor."
"She waitin' fer ya?"
Scott smiled. "Yes."
Logan smirked. "Don't mark her up."
Scott took a leisurely draw on his beer. "She likes it, Runt.
Maybe I could be convinced to let you have a go at her. She's not in
any position to complain." He didn't have to look over to know what
effect his words had. Logan's unconscious shifting told him
everything. "Aren't you going to ask me what I want?"
"What do ya want, Cyke?'
"I want you to punish her. Hard. My guess is you've got a
harsher hand than I do. But no sex and no one knows. Ever."
"No one?"
"Gambit, I suppose. He'll keep his mouth shut."
"He'll keep his mouth shut or I'll gag him."
"Then she's your for the night. Guest room of the boathouse.
You'll know when she's had enough."
"Oh?" Logan smirked.
Scott leaned closer. "Amazingly, you lose control of the
strap."
Logan laughed. "What makes you so sure I'm in the mood?"
"You've been fucking Gambit for three months and you haven't
killed him yet."
"What makes ya think I ain't takin' it out on him?"
Scott looked at the Canadian seriously. "Because I've seen
his back."
"I ain't asked him yet."
"I have. You'd better. But not tonight."
"Gonna go check on Remy. Ya look in on him a couple times?"
"Sure. Mind if I play some head games with your pet?"
"Don't fuck him up any worse than he is."
Scott inclined his head.
*****
Remy shivered. Logan was excited about something and Remy
hoped it wasn't the new punishment he'd hinted at. Logan didn't even
acknowledge Remy when he entered the room and Remy felt a rush of
shame. He'd lost his boss' attention. Maybe if he'd been good he
wouldn't be on his knees. He bit his lip to stop himself from trying
to talk his way free. He'd asked for this. He'd wanted this. His need
still scared him.
Logan swiftly locked the thief's wrists together in the small
of his back with sturdy leather and solid steel. He bent the thief
over the sofa and kicked his legs further apart. "Umph." Remy's
breath rushed out. Logan probed Remy's ass with one lubed finger,
then a second, then a third, pumping in and out until Remy was
moaning and thrusting back to meet the tormenting fingers. The
fingers abandoned him and he trembled. "Boss, sil vous plait, please,
boss, more."
Logan pressed the plug into the loosened opening. Remy
wriggled at the new sensation. It was hard and cold and big. It
filled him, stretched him, until he didn't think he'd be able to
stand it. Then, his muscle closed around the smaller base, holding it
inside his body. "Boss, can't take dis, sil vous plait, boss!" He
pushed his bangs out of his face, rubbing against the courderoy of
the couch Logan used to divide his room like his mind, two cultures
at war in one small space. It smelled like Logan, cigar smoke, and
beer.
"I know exactly what ya can take, pet." Logan redressed the
Cajun in his soft jeans. The hung low on the boy's hips. Logan strung
a chain through the loops and padlocked it on. He locked Remy's
wrists to the waist chain. Remy bit his lip. He pulled away from the
blindfold and Logan slapped him. He rocked back. The blindfold wasn't
soft silk, but rather leather that seemed to mold to his face. A
strap went under his nose. Logan buckled it firmly. Remy shook his
head, trying in vain to shift it. Logan let him adjust for a moment,
then hauled him to towards the sturdy straight-backed chair. The plug
shifted and the thief gasped.
He was shoved into the chair he loathed. He hated the deep
intrusion in his ass. Logan fasted Remy's legs to either side. Then,
he opened the fly of the Cajun's jeans to fondle him. Remy's hips
lifted in response. Logan smirked. "This is mine, boy. Ya don't got
permission to come. Ya hear me?"
"Oui, boss. Remy be good."
Logan spread Remy's knees and fastened them down. A loop of
cotton rope when around Remy's thighs and the seat of the chair.
Another pulled him tight against the back. He whimpered. The ropes
criss-crossed up his torso, holding him against the back slats. Logan
patted Remy's head.
"Ya just sit tight and think about what ya did tonight. Cyke
wants me to help discipline Jeannie. If yer a good boy, maybe I won't
leave ya like this overnight. If ya ain't, I'll gag ya and sleep
alone."
Remy nodded jerkily. His Adam's apple bobbed as he fought
down his jealousy. He heard the door click shut and the tumblers of
the lock fall into place. He knew exactly what Jean was into and
shivered. He'd never considered the possibility that Scott would let
anyone else hold the whip. Jean had no idea what she was in for. He
shifted and the plug brushed his prostate. He whimpered low in his
throat as he realized the extent of his situation. He was held to the
chair so firmly that any shift against his bonds went directly to the
plug. If he pulled on the lock at his wrists, the jeans pulled
against his crotch. Stillness was the only way he'd be able to
control his arousal. "Bon Dieu," he breathed.
*****
Jean looked up at the thick metal shackles she'd fastened
around her wrists and ankles to hold her to the whipping post that
passed as a decorative rustic touch in the guestroom. The locks were
thick and sturdy. Her mouth was muzzled with a panel gag that nearly
touched the back of her throat. Her hair was pulled up into a severe
bun, high on her head. She could see herself in the mirror which was
strategically placed in to catch her reflection in the full-length
mirror across the room. Her metal chastity belt gleamed. Her ass and
pussy were both trapped behind unforgiving stainless steel and would
remain that way until Scott released it. It was hard between her
legs. Her black leather, five inch heels showed off her firmly
fastened feet. A chain around the instep and locked to her ankle,
garunteed they wouldn't come off.
She'd been waiting for hours it seemed, but the alarm clocks
were hidden from view and she didn't want to cheat by pulling one to
her. Part of the punishment was anticipation. The door creaked. Her
eyes widened as Logan stepped into the room and surveyed her. His
eyes were like lasers and she rocked in her bonds.
He looked at the selection of floggers she'd left out on the
bed and smiled. He didn't say anything, just tested the whips, the
belts, and the crop until he found the one who's touch he liked. Jean
flinched at each crack in the air. She struggled wildly. Logan's
nostrils flared, taking in her arousal. His cock hardened. This was
going to be fun.
*****
Remy was hyper-attuned to his surroundings. The stern tread
in the hall wasn't Logan's. His eyes flew open to complete darkness.
He thrashed in the minimal give of his bonds. If Logan was with Jean,
then, Bon Dieu, non, Scott would be checking on him. It only made
sense. The door opened, then closed softly. Scott re-locked it behind
him. He didn't speak, just watched the thief gasp breath into panic
emptied lungs.
Then, he walked around the bound Cajun. "You know," he said
in a light, conversational tone. "I told Rogue that the best way to
keep you in was to tie you down. She thought it was a joke."
Remy lifted his chin high. He didn't reply.
"I like you like this. Of course, if it were up to me, you'd
be gagged too. And this," he stroked down the semi-hard cock, "would
be locked up. Locks don't hold you though, do they?" He pressed
finger to Gambit's lips and they parted to suck eagerly at the tip.
Scott withdrew it and traced along each bond gently. He was checking
for circulation and hold and driving Remy insane. "What would it be
like to give Logan complete control?" he purred. "A Genoshean collar,
tight and hard around your neck with an epoxy seal over the lock,
hands bound up tight into fists of leather and metal, wrists at your
waist, mouth jacked open with a ring gag, begging to be used, eyes
hidden, cock held down with metal, ass filled all the time, ankles
hobbled – connected to your waist and each other. What would that be
like? To be nothing but a sex toy to be used at your master's whim?"
Remy's cock was hard and leaking. He could taste blood, feel
it running down his chin from the bite he'd put into his lip. Scott
finished checking Remy's ankles.
"I see you like that idea. To be firmly, totally under
control. Logan decides when you eat, if you sleep, when your ass is
filled with hard, unforgiving rubber or hard, unrelenting flesh. He
controls if you come. And what if you disobeyed? Then, he'd have to
force it further, wouldn't he?" Remy nodded jerkily. "Chain you up in
a little ball, head against your knees, mouth full of leather. He
plugs your ears. And he leaves you alone, oh so alone, rocking
against the plug in your ass, fucking yourself, your cock restrained,
unable to come, unable to beg, unable to hear him, taste him, touch
him. Another strap around your body, compressing you further. What's
that like?"
"Heaven," Remy whispered. His control was nearly shredded –
only the memory of Logan's threat kept him from giving in. The gag
pressed against his lips and he gave into the demand, letting Scott
muzzle him.
Scott settled on the couch to watch the Cajun struggle not to
come and grinned. His headache was better. He closed his eyes and
watched through Jean's eyes as she watched her ass and back get
redder and redder. He bit back a groan as Logan drew blood and Jean
climaxed, shuddering in her bonds. Logan kept going during the after
shocks. Jean's ecstasy was exquisite, the blend of pain and pleasure,
guilt and joy, with an edge of yearning to be touched all melded
together.
Logan left her there to wait.
Scott glanced at the Cajun. The fight showed on his face. "Be
good, thief," Scott said and shut the door. Remy's eyes were teared
up. Boss, please, he begged silently. Please hurry.
*****
Logan left before he could go too far. Slim needed to do some
of the work. They passed in the kitchen, too intent on their own
lovers to speak. Logan took in the sight. Remy was on the
edge. "Come, pet."
Remy came in a bucking pulse, the gag muffling his scream.
The Cajun shuddered, slumping against his bonds.
Too loose, Logan decided as he undid the ropes. Remy didn't
move, waiting on Logan's orders. He wasn't surprised when Logan freed
his wrists from his jeans and then undid the chain belt. He was
folded over the back of the couch. The plug pulled free and was
immediately replaced with Logan's cock. It was a harsh coupling.
Logan slammed in and out, teeth leaving a trail of blood and bruises,
not caring about anything but the quivering heat. He came, hard and
deep, then shoved the plug back into place and attached the leather
harness and cock ring he was considering making a permanent part of
Remy's wardrobe. He locked the chain around the thief's waist and
attached the boy's wrists to it once more. A second piece of chain
attached to the center back of the first and went between Remy's
legs, a lock holding in the butt plug, one to the harness, then a
last one to the front chain. The jeans came off. Logan fastened a
short hobbled between Remy's ankles. He took out the gag.
"Bedtime, pet." He settled the thief on the bed and locked
his ankles to the footboard.
"Je t'amie, boss," Remy whispered.
"Love you too, pet. Sleep."
*****
Scott finished the job Logan had started, leaving red stripes
of blood on Jean's ass. He left her there to stew. He blocked off the
link and got ready for bed. He jerked off in the shower to the image
of Jean writing under Logan's strikes. He blindfolded her, checked
her circulation and the shallow wounds, then went to sleep in the
guest room bed.
Jean wailed into her gag and thrashed in her bonds. The
clinking woke Scott. He scowled. He placed a plastic tarp under her,
carefully lifting one foot then the other. "If you have to go, go
ahead. You aren't getting loose until I say." He slammed out of the
guest room and into the master bedroom.
Jean climaxed again. Sometime during the night she felt her
bladder give up. She rested her forehead against the post and reveled
in her helplessness.
*****
Remy shivered at an odd snatch of emotion in the air and
snuggled closer to his boss. Logan automatically tucked him closer.
FINIS