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Some of 'em just liked it rough. Whether it was for some imagined
punishment or true masochism didn't concern him. They sensed his danger,
glimpsed the lurking monster hidden behind his deep, blue eyes and
craved the twisted passion he'd cultivated over his very long life.
Logan wasn't perverse with everybody. During those times when he was
simply looking for sexual gratification, he was pretty direct and got
the job done. The fact that his healin' factor banished the normal
fatigue following ejaculation was torture enough for some. He was
terminally horny, insatiably virile and proud of it. There wasn't a
woman alive who could keep up with him in bed, no matter what they
thought.
The object of his attention tonight however, wasn't a woman and didn't
want him to be gentle. A long-limbed, sweet-mouthed, cinnamon-haired
thief hung by his elastic-encased wrists in the deserted, ramshackle
cabin at the perimeter of the estate, far enough away to keep the
bellows of erotic agony from being heard. His lovely mouth was gagged
with his own underwear liberally soaked with semen from the matre's
dozen ejaculations, and the slave was naked and scared. Logan walked
around him leisurely, oiling the elegant, submissive body so that it
gleamed in the faint moonlight. Scarlet pupils rolled in terror on
the
black sclera.
Logan was nude as well, but unlike his pretty sub, he was in control
of
his lust. With each stroke of his meaty hands on that pale, heaving
skin, every gasp of fear emanating from the heaving chest, every sharp
slap of his belt against those smooth buttocks, he grew increasingly
hungry. The Cajun was already bleeding from several dozen bites, his
fair skin bruised from adamantium-laced fingers, but the matre was
always careful to keep those lower on his body so they couldn't be
easily seen. He tried to speak through the spunky gag, his strange
eyes
large and liquid with entreaty.
"What's that? Yer not ready yet?" Logan taunted, knowing he couldn't
answer. Gambit's hips circled piteously. Their penises were much like
the men themselves. Logan's wasn't terribly long, but it was thick
and
muscular with bulging veins, nestled in a dense jungle of blue-black
frizz. Remy's was long, slender and elegant, surrounded by a light
chestnut mat. Logan toyed with Gambit's slick nipples, making him thrust
forward into cruel, empty air. The Canadian'd been teasing him for
hours
already and wouldn't let him do anything but squirm. Lebeau needed
to
cum, badly. His testicles were drawing up into his body. As usual,
it
didn't go unnoticed.
"Can't have that now, can we?" the Canuck said, moving behind the bound
and helpless Southerner. After the first time they'd played The Game,
Logan'd stocked the crappy cabin with appropriately-themed items like
clamps, lubricant, rope, cuffs, shackles and cock rings. There was
also
a menthol rub he put under his nose to keep himself from succumbing
to
the Cajun's pheromones. Remy knew better than to try. He stared straight
ahead per the matre's standing command. The last and only time he'd
disobeyed, Logan'd tied him spread-eagled and kept him teetering on
the
edge of orgasm for two days, then hogtied him tight and left him in
the
cabin for two more in a puddle of his own piss.
"Spread 'em," the master growled, touching the trembling thigh. The
Acadian parted his legs obediently, eyes widened at the sensation of
elastic being firmly fastened around the base of his receding scrotum.
A
weight was added, pulling his balls downward.
"Keep 'em open an' spit out the gag, slut," Logan ordered. Remy
complied.
"Please, suh..." he began begging, but stopped, stiffening as he heard
a
snikt and the blood-freezing feel of the back of a foot-long, metal
claw
caressing his groin. Logan could be incredibly cruel. Lebeau wasn't
sure
that he wouldn't cut it off just to teach him a lesson. This wasn't
just
a game to him. He was purging his demons.
"That's better. Ya know what'll happen if ya cum, dont'cha, Gumbo?"
he
whispered, wrapping his hand around the Cajun's strained erection and
stroking slowly. Remy nodded, gulping hard and trying to think of
anything else other than the erotic masturbation. Jesus Dieu!!! A fine
sheen of sweat mixed with the oil on his body. He was so close. Two
more
would do it, and yet if he did, he'd be punished, maybe maimed for
life.
Gambit concentrated on the claw still threatening his nuts and managed
to stave off his orgasm. For now.
Logan smiled evilly at the heady fear rolling off the thief's body.
There wasn't a perfume or cologne on earth that smelled sweeter to
his
sensitive nose. His libido flared, turning his meat to cement.
"Do ya want me to fuck ya, Cajun?" Logan asked snakily, pumping faster.
The debauched, auburn head nodded desperately.
"Ask real nice. Ya know how," the raspy voice almost purred. Remy did
indeed know how. He'd done it on his knees often enough.
"Please, suh, fuck yuh slut up de ass 'till yuh cum," he whimpered,
willing to endure anything at this point to get off. Logan retracted
the
claw. His calloused hand greased the puckered opening, but didn't
penetrate. Logan never prepared him. He liked to feel the startled
reaction, the squeeze when he drove himself deep and quick into the
clasping orifice.
Remy felt his cheeks being parted and emitted a little sigh. At last,
de
loupgarou (werewolf) were gone give 'im some relief. The entry was
always the same, hard and fast. It took Gambit's breath away, the sheer
mass of the matre's cock. Once Logan'd forced his way past the thief's
sphincter, he began moving leisurely. One hairy hand rose to pinch
and
twist an already-fiery nipple. The other continued to stroke an
exploding, trapped penis.
Lebeau writhed under the pain/pleasure, absorbing Logan's feeling of
supreme power at the ultimate control of his sex toy through his
empathy. It was an odd combination, Remy's voluntary slavery and Logan's
overwhelming dominance. The best way to handle it was to simply feel.
It pleased Logan when they came together, though he'd never say so.
Gambit was always forbidden to cum until Logan did, but the Canadian
liked to have a reason to punish him. The timing wasn't easy. Remy'd
been ready to burst for quite a while, but it was all right because
Logan was ready.
Lebeau knew he was getting close at the sound of rhythmic grunts.
Logan's already-thick cock swelled inside him and his glassy grip
tightened as he pistoned faster and faster. Aw, krot (shit)!!! A
wordless, bestial snarl bubbled from his furry chest. Even if the Cajun
hadn't been trained so well, he still would've screamed it.
"S'IL VOUS PLAIT, SUH!!!! REMY DO ANYTHING FUH YUH!!!!!!" They both
spurted simultaneously, Remy's expression a thin whine against Logan's
lusty howl, two bodies glistening with sweat and oil as they climaxed
for what seemed like an eternity, locked and frozen. Logan's emission
always took longer. Gambit lived for this moment, reveling in the
pleasure he could provide to his tormented teammate as he came and
came
and came.
The thick, hairy, muscled body finally relaxed, holding onto the younger
man for balance after the intense orgasm. Took him a few seconds to
recover enough to untie the golden-skinned thief and carry him to the
narrow cot. Logan laid the Cajun down gently, massaging his slightly
blue arms.
When the circulation came back into his numb hands, Remy turned over,
cuddling into his matre's wide chest. Neither one said anything. They
didn't have to. Midnight blue to flaming red, they breathed and were
content. For now.