Title: Summers in Slavery

Author: Lornadane ([email protected])



Summers in Slavery

By Lornadane


Chapter Eleven

"Alex." I began when Zaki'd gone.
My brother turned and looked at me coldly.
"Well, what did you expect?" I said as if answering an unspoken question. "You think I'm just going to cooperate that easily?"
He looked down, shaking his head. "No. I guess not. But I didn't think you'd respond to a man's attention this quickly." He looked a little puzzled and scratched his chin. "The training must be working faster than I anticipated." My eye began to twitch in annoyance.
"You think I'm that easily broken, then?" I asked through clenched teeth.
"No. No. It could be the way you were trained under Xavier, to be a good soldier. To obey orders without question. I'm sure the professor taught you using some behavior modification." He turned away for a minute as I scowled at his back. *Good little soldier. Good little slave*. Well I wasn't going to be that easy to break. I still had some will left. I'd get the hell out of here at the first opportunity. With or without Alex.
Just then Alex turned back with a smirk. "Or maybe you just have a crush on Neil."
"Zaki." I replied immediately without thinking. "His name is Zaki, Alex."
Alex broke into a grin. "You do have a crush on him!" His eyes widened in surprise at his revelation and he muttered to himself looking to the side. "This won't help."
That was it. Bad enough to have to endure all this 'training'. Bad enough to have my inhibitions torn apart and my mind reprogrammed like Pavlov's dog. Even worse to be tormented by the penile device and forced to suck cock. But now for Alex to mock me, childishly, like I was a high school kid, all raging hormones and silly little infatuations. I flew at him, taking him unaware and knocking him across the floor. And just like in those days before the orphanage, before the plane exploded shattering my life afterward, we were two brothers tussling around on the ground, arms and legs flailing. And just like the brothers we'd been, Alex was laughing pushing at me half-heartedly and I was all seriousness, getting even angrier at his laughter. He use to be very good at pushing my buttons and loved to see just how hard he could push. It was all really silly, and I wasn't trying very hard to hurt Alex. The slaves around us, sensing the release of pent-up emotions, gathered to watch, cheering on one or the other.
But then it turned ugly. So many days of this torment. So many days of being forced to do things I'd never have agreed to. Never would have wanted. The anxiety of what was coming. The anger I held at my own helplessness and Alex's unwillingness to fight with me, to at least try to escape. All this came boiling up to the surface and when I found myself on top of him with my hands around his throat I began to sqeeze. Harder and harder. He grabbed my arms trying to pull them away. But the rage I felt made me stronger. His lips came together tight in terror. His eyes bulged, then he gasped trying to say something. But I couldn't see his face through the haze of anger. The collar was pushed up roughly against his chin and a small gash appeared where a jagged part cut deeply into the flesh of his jawline.
Some of the slaves, realizing suddenly how deadly the fight had turned, grabbed at me. It took several moments and more men joining in, but finally they were able to pull me off my brother. I flung a few of them off me, my fists coming up to connect with one or two jaws. I chopped down on one poor fellow almost crushing his throat. My mind was in a haze of anger. I barely saw Alex come up on one elbow heaving and retching. One of the men knelt down next to him offering support and whispering something to him, looking at me as I fought the men restraining me, intent on finishing what I had started. More slaves came to aid the others and finally seven of them had me down on the floor, arms and legs pressed roughly into the carpet, one of the men sitting squarely on my chest.
"No!" He rasped and held an arm up, waving a hand at me. "Just hold him!"
After he'd caught his breath, Alex stood up wiping the blood from his chin and approached me warily. I was still struggling, still furious. It crossed my mind briefly if this was how Logan felt in one of his beserker rages. But then Alex bent over me and slapped me hard across the face deflating my fury. I blinked and lay back quietly.
"I'm sorry, Scott." Alex spoke first, quickly, knowing I'd blame myself for my loss of control. "I shouldn't have said what I said."
"No." I agreed. "You really know how to piss me off sometimes." He smiled slightly with a chuckle. "But I almost killed you. I wanted to..." I continued for a moment then stopped, hanging my head. This still wasn't his fault. None of this. He didn't deserve to die.
He motioned to the slaves holding me down and they got to their feet taking me with them. Two of the stronger men continued to hold my arms, not trusting me to stay calm. No one said anything for a long moment, then Alex spoke, quietly, "I don't think I would have minded that much."
I looked up at him in shock and horror. "Shut up!" I yelled. I pulled against the men still holding me. "You shut up! Don't you dare say that! Don't you dare leave me here alone!" He stepped back in surprise at my vehemence. Then he took a step forward and pulled me into his arms.
"Okay." He whispered. "Okay, Scotty." I could feel his tears on my cheek and I pulled him tighter to me, clinging to him as if my life depended on it, ignoring the pain in my groin as I pressed against him.
"We're in this together." I whispered back. "We'll find a way..." Then he was kissing me forcefully, desperately, and I responded to his pain. I know, looking back on it, he didn't want me to finish my sentence. He needed me there, but he didn't want my hope. He'd been down that road. Now all that was left to him was his acceptance and my presence. Nothing else.
In that moment, I began to see a purpose in all of this ordeal. I was here to protect Alex. I could never have bore his death, especially if he'd taken his own life. So I'd stay and we'd help each other survive. And maybe we'd find a way out together.


Chapter Twelve

After Alex broke the kiss, he stepped back looking a little embarrassed and turned away. I smiled at his sudden shyness. But I imagine, like me he didn't want to show weakness. Hadn't wanted me to see him cry.
The other slaves looked from me to him, puzzled and nervous. Finally Alex looked up, noticing the other men. "Go back to your quarters." He told them. "We'll pick this up tonight." Most of them grinned, and a few slapped me on my back making lewd, but not unkind comments. Several of them just passed a hand across me as if I were some lucky talisman. A few "Gift of Allah, Gift of God." were said quietly. I smiled, oddly touched by their continued reverence, not thinking I was worthy of it, but touched all the same.
For a long while I just stood there, after the others had gone, looking at my brother, not sure what to say. He seemed pensive, uncertain himself. But then I remembered what he'd promised me.
"Water." I started with a croak. I cleared my throat and said, "You said I could have some water, Alex."
He swung towards me and cocked an eyebrow. "You think you deserve it after you almost killed me?" Back to the master role. Reward and punishment, and I felt scared suddenly, and depressed. I'd been seriously looking forward to the water, I realized.
I swallowed. "But that doesn't have anything to do with..." There was a desperate pleading in my tone and Alex chuckled, shaking his head.
"It's okay, Scott." He said cutting me off. "I'm kidding. You can have some water."
I sighed, closing my eyes. I couldn't believe how afraid I'd sounded, like a six year old who's mom had promised him the newest Power Ranger and then suddenly decided he couldn't have it. But I was going to get the water and relief washed through me.
Alex stepped around me to the door and called for one of the slaves. I was a bit puzzled at this point. Where were the guards? Wasn't one standing outside? Why hadn't they come during the fight? When Alex came back to me, I asked him these questions.
He looked at me suspiciously. "They're around." He answered vaguely. I was about to ask him what he meant by that when one of the slaves, Bert, or was it Ernie, came in with a plastic water bottle. The question flew from my thoughts as I focused on that bottle. I considered for a moment the surrealism of it. Such a modern, simple object in such an antiquated place. I smiled for a moment. Then I reached for the bottle.
Alex stopped me. "No, Scott. Kneel down." I looked at him puzzled and irritated. And then I looked back at the slave holding the water. There was no point in arguing if I wanted to get that drink. With an exasperated sigh I dropped to my knees.
"You've got to go easy." Alex told me, ignoring the obvious sign of disrespect. "It's been awhile and your stomach's not going to be use to the water."
"Just give it to me." I muttered. Then I gave him one of my most endearing smiles when he frowned down at me. "Please Master." He snorted.
"Funny, Scott. Real cute." Alex took the bottle in one hand and tilted my head back with his other. "Don't try that on Remy though. I don't believe he'd think it was quite as cute as I do." Placing the tip of the bottle to my lips he said, "Drink."
I sucked down hard on the plastic tip and swallowed my first taste of water in days. Pure, fresh water. It was better than any drink I'd ever had. I wanted it all. I grabbed the water bottle, covering Alex's hands with my own, holding it firmly to my mouth. He tried to pull it back saying, "Go easy, Scott. I mean it. You'll get sick." But I wasn't listening. I just kept drinking greedily, gulping it down in large mouthfuls. A last drink for a dying man. And how good it tasted. How sweet and marvelous. Like magic to my mouth and tongue. I heard Alex chuckle. "Your stomach then. Don't say I didn't warn you." And he let go, letting me have it all.
In a minute I was finished, shaking the bottle over my tongue trying to get every drop. And a minute later the first cramp hit me like a kick in the belly. I doubled over onto my hands and everything I'd drank down came back up with a vengence. My throat burned as I heaved and I choked and I sputtered, fluid running out of my nose, tears streaming down my face. And Alex was there, stroking my back, holding my arm. He didn't laugh, he didn't mock, but he did have smile on his face.
"I warned you." Was all he said.
When my stomach had settled, I sat back on my knees and wiped my mouth. I looked at Alex smiling at me and immediately I asked, "Can I have some more?"
He laughed. "You gonna go a little slower this time?"
I nodded intently. "I swear. Please." My look was pleading, I knew, but I didn't care. He nodded and told the slave to go fill the bottle. Alex put an arm around my shoulder and pulled me to my feet. I swayed unsteadily, weak from the loss of fluid, but he held my waist firmly and led me toward the bathroom.
"Come on. I don't want to have to kiss that mouth." He said pleasantly. Inside the bathroom he gave me a toothbrush and toothpaste. I could have sworn I was in Heaven. I brushed my mouth thoroughly and rinsed until he stopped me. I was taking handfuls of water to my mouth. "I've warned you, Scott. You'll only make yourself sick again." Then wonder of wonders he unclamped the penile device and let me urinate. I knew I was in Heaven.
Leading me back into the other room, he said, "I'll leave it off until you drink your water. But then it has to go back on." I nodded. The slave stood there nervously holding the bottle. Alex again ordered me to kneel down. This time I let my arms stay at my side as he place the tip to my lips. This time I let him control how much I could drink. And this time my stomach didn't rebel.
When I'd finished, Alex handed the bottle back to the slave and told him to clean up the mess I'd made. Then he retrieved the leash he'd long discarded and snapped it back on my collar. Taking my hand he led me back through the slave quarters, then up a spiral staircase, down a hall to a small bedroom. All it held was a twin bed, a small table with a lamp, and a chair.
Sitting down at the head of the bed with his back up against the wall, he pulled me into his arms. "This is where I stay when Remy doesn't need me." I nodded. His hand came down on my penis then and he began to slowly work it to hardness. I swallowed, knowing what was coming, but I didn't fight it. He nibbled at an earlobe, then worked his tongue across my neck, until he came to the other shoulder and bit down gently. I moaned unable to help myself, and placed my hand on his, moving with his rhythm.
"Like that?" He whispered, voice dripping with lust. Then he said, I think to himself, "Maybe. Just this once." I turned my head, puzzled and he kissed the corner of my mouth. Then his hand came away from my groin and he turned me to face him. Pulling me into a passionate kiss, Alex laved my mouth with his tongue. This time he drew my tongue into his mouth and began to suckle it until I was writhing, thrusting against him.
"Take me in your mouth." He said as he broke the kiss. I looked at him, a little dazed, but then I lowered my lips to his erection. Alex inhaled sharply. I didn't try to think. Didn't try to reason. Just reacted to the pleasure. He slid down the bed to lie flat and I turned my body to follow his motions, stretching out beside him, still holding his cock and wrapping my tongue around it. My own hardness was near his face and his hand returned to play with it. He kneeded my balls with his other hand. I shuddered at the touch and sucked him harder, deeper into my mouth. I was hoping he'd take me in his own mouth, but he just continued to stroke, rubbing hard along the underside and the perineum. Then his thumb came up along the head stroking it in one even motion, rolling into the slit. It was enough, and I came in his hand, swallowing him down, murmuring his name, till he shot into my throat. I held both his buttocks in my hand firmly as he spasmed and came. Even after the water he tasted nice.
I cleaned him thoroughly, afterward, bathing his limp cock with my tongue, until he rolled me onto my back and placed his hand over my mouth. "Drink." He ordered with a quick kiss to my lips. I obeyed without hesitation. Opening my mouth he dribbled my cooling seed over my tongue. When most of it had gone down, I reached for his hand and, imitating what I'd seen him do the first day I'd arrived here, I drew each finger down into my mouth and sucked it clean. Then I kissed the palm clean too.
When I'd finished my task, Alex pulled me to him, resting my head on his chest. "That was nice, Scott. Really nice. You're learning." His voice sounded weary and he yawned. "I'll put the ring on later."
"Thanks." I whispered and placed a kiss on his chest. Then we drifted off to sleep wrapped in each other's arms.
The rest of the week went by quickly. I did what he told me. During the day, I was taken back to the 'play room' and he'd instruct me in sex. How to give head, sensual massage, different terminology so I understood exactly what Remy commanded me to do. Everything a slave was expected to learn I was taught and either I demonstrated my understanding on Alex or I explained it to him. There were certain things that I couldn't demonstrate at the time. I could not be penetrated. That was Remy's priviledge.
But I fought Alex on one issue for awhile. Then I simply tried to stall. Rimming. I couldn't bring myself to do this. It seemed so sickening at first. I don't think I could have performed it on Jean. I even argued the point of learning it. Surely Remy would never let me penetrate him. I thought it was too humiliating. I was sure it denoted the submissive. But Alex just told me he liked it sometimes. Eventually I gave in. And like giving head I gagged for the first few times. It's amazing what a human can get use to. I can't say I ever came to enjoy it by itself, but when you add it into the overall scheme of things it's not that bad.
At night, I went back to the slave quarters to watch the other men. Once or twice, when Alex felt it was the correct time and situation, he'd remove the ring. And I'd cum like I'd never had before. All that restraint and anticipation. I swear I'd have multiple orgasms. But then I'd be forced to lie in Alex's arms while one of the 'performers' sucked me back into hardness. And Alex would snap the device back on saying I still wasn't ready. I finally asked him when I would be ready and almost punched him when he told me it usually took a slave several months to learn how to control his release.
One mercy Alex did grant was to take the ring of every so often so I could pee. Provided I never touched myself or released. This took some serious concentration on my part. But all I had to do was imagine that little red rubber catheter and I'd just relieve myself and nothing else.


Chapter Thirteen

So here I am now, back where I began my story, fervently lapping at my brother's cock, savoring his unique taste and wanting all his moisture, all his salty fluid to drink. And then I feel that lovely warmth and fuzzy bliss that is Remy Lebeau's power. It's a disorienting feeling that only makes you want him more, makes you want to please him in any and every way, and makes you forget any moral restriction you've ever had. I sucked even harder causing Alex to slap the top of my head and hiss, "Watch the teeth, Scott!"
Remy strolled over chuckling and put his arms around Alex's waist saying something to him quietly. I couldn't hear, but it made my brother frown and slow his thrusting. Then he kissed him passionately. I never missed a beat. While my eyes rolled up to watch their interchange, I continued to fondle Alex's cock with my tongue, pulling it deep into my mouth to bring him to climax. I was hungry. The little bit of ejaculate at every feeding wasn't nearly enough to curb my hunger and only left me wanting more. It would have been better had I had nothing at all. The pains in my belly might have at least stopped. And every day Alex had decreased the number of feedings until he came about every four hours. Just enough to keep me painfully hungry. I was happy to see him and so eager to swallow him when he returned for 'meal time' that I usually just fell to my knees the moment he walked through the door. No preamble, no hesitation. I needed and wanted him in my mouth. He hardly seem to notice, or if he did he said nothing. He'd just pat me on the head, letting me take him in.
Remy's fingers stroking through my hair roused me from my thoughts, but I never let go of Alex's cock. I couldn't be distracted. I was an obediant little slave.
"Good boy." He murmured thoughtfully. I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn't look up. Then he said to Alex, "Looks like you done a fine job, cher."
Suddenly his hand came down on my shoulder, pulling me back from my meal. "Dat's enough, petite."
"No." I breathed, almost pushing my way back up to get at my brother. "Please..."
Remy bent down to smile at me, not unkindly. "Kept ya hungry, eh?"
My head dropped as I flushed in humiliation. "S'okay. I'll give ya food tonight, cher." I looked up quickly, suspicious. "Real food." Remy promised with a wink. I wasn't sure whether to trust him or not so I dropped my eyes again. But then he drew me to my feet and placed a possessive arm around my waist saying, "Alex, I won't need you tonight."
I looked over at my brother, half expecting an explosion as if I thought he believed he'd be invited to watch, perhaps even asked to join in. He merely nodded submissively. Remy gave my waist a quick squeeze. "Scott seems to be willing. Will he fight me, cher?"
"No." Alex assured him. "He stopped fighting me days ago."
"Bien. Go on back to de slave quarters till I call for you."
Alex turned to go, but Remy stopped him short by saying, "Alex. You done well. You can 'ave one of the de slaves tonight, if you want."
My brother looked back at him, eyes wide with uncertainty. "Anyone?"
Remy gave him a benevolent smile. "Oui."
Suddenly Alex's face beamed and he smiled brightly. He came back over to Remy and knelt down. His hands entered the luxurious top coat his master wore and I heard the faint unzipping of Remy's pants. Then Alex gently guided Remy's soft cock to his lips. Kissing it reverently he said, "Thank you, Master."
As he returned the flesh back beneath the clothing, Remy tousled his hair playfully. "G'on. I may not need you for several days. You know how I am when I get a new toy."
Alex gave a short bark of laughter and ran from the room. I'd been wondering about his sudden happiness and about the slave he'd choose tonight (he'd certainly seem to know which one he wanted), when it hit me that I was alone with Remy. The realization of what this meant, that I'd be alone in bed with this man, coerced to service him and offer my ass in submission for his pleasure, struck me like a slap across my face. I couldn't do it. I began to tremble slightly wishing dearly that Alex had stayed. Regardless of what he'd forced me to do, my brother had been my lifeline, my strength in a twisted kind of way, getting me through the pain of this whole ordeal with some kindness and brotherly concern. Now he was gone and I'd have to face this night alone. Tears burned in my eyes. I suppose I had assumed Alex would be there for my first time. I was wrong. All of a sudden I was the skinny little freak with the uncontrollable eyebeams watching my younger brother leave with his new adoptive family. I fought back the tears that threatened to spill even more. Remy wasn't going to see me cry. I swore to myself I'd never show him any weakness. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek to stop the flow from starting.
However, Remy could feel me shaking slightly, and sensing my distress, pulled me into a warm embrace, letting his power flow through me. His fingers brushed the back of my neck feather-light and he laid a soft kiss on my shoulder like a lover. "I...Remy..." I rasped unable to continue.
"Hush, mon couer. It's gonna be okay. Trust your master, cher. Shhh..." His words were soothing and I relaxed into his arms. For a long time he held me saying nothing, just stroking my neck, my back, making me want him more and more.
When I had stopped trembling under his influence, Remy stepped back holding my shoulders and massaging them firmly with his fingers. He cocked his head and smiled at me affectionately. I couldn't help but look back at him with a slight sad smile.
"No more sadness, eh, mon choit?" Remy finally spoke. "Dis is your night, cher. Your wedding night, so to speak." He didn't chuckle at what might have been a poor joke. He seemed quiet, thoughtful, not wanting to laugh at my expense as if he really believed I was some beautiful prize he'd stolen and he really cared about the way I was treated. Still an object, but a very cherished one.
One of his hands went up to brush a stray lock out of my eyes and then rested against my cheek. I closed my eyes and leaned into the hand as his tender gestures swam through my senses. "Remy..." I whispered, not sure of what I wanted to say. But he put a finger to my lips silencing anything else I might have said. Then he began to murmur, a mix of French, Cajun, and English as his eyes roamed my body in frank lust and appreciation. "Si beau, si beau..." His hands stroked down my arms sending shivers through me. Embarrassed by his openess, I flushed and he smiled even brighter. "De blushing bride." He said lifting my chin when I dropped it, awash in shame.
"Not'ing to be embarrassed about, mon cher. I'll bind you tighter to me dan de love 'tween a man and his wife." My eyes narrowed in anger thinking he was mocking my love for Jean. I almost attacked him. But then the bliss of his power ran over me. "No, petit, you love Jeannie." He said to me as if reading my thoughts. "I don't doubt that. But in time you'll love me more."
Then he captured my lips passionately and I lost all intent to fight him. Instead I opened my mouth in obeisance, letting his tongue taste me thoroughly, until finally I clamped my lips over the moist tissue and suckled ardently. I thrilled to hear him purr as he pulled me again into a sweet embrace. Somehow my cock didn't seem to throb quite so painfully as it pressed against his silken clothed belly.


Chapter Fourteen

When Remy ended the kiss, I gave a tiny whimper. Smiling cheerfully, he said, "Mon choit. My pet. Did you miss me?"
I blinked and unbelievably, I nodded.
He brushed my lips again. "Shall we celebrate my return den?" I nodded again.
"Turn around, cher." I looked at him nervously, wondering if he was going to take me here. But he smiled and said, "Go on, mon petit. I only want to look at you, my prize."
I inhaled nervously and turned around. Why wasn't I fighting him? I couldn't feel the warmth anymore. The power. He'd withdrawn it. But I didn't fight. Alex. It was Alex, I realized. I had to protect him. I had to stay and obey and make sure he survived.
When I'd turned away from him, Remy took my buttocks in his hand and began to examine my ass. He massaged it thoroughly, running a finger along the crack, pushing in at the tight puckered opening. I gasped and tried not to step away. My cheeks clenched down on his fingers. Then he withdrew the finger and slapped me hard on the right cheek. Startled, I began to step away, but he caught my shoulder.
"Did I tell you to move?" Remy growled. I stopped.
Swinging me around to face him, he said, "You're mine, Scott. You'll do only what I ask. You may not like it now, but in time, cher, you will."
Remy took my hand, once again turning the charm on me. Then he led me through the palace to his suite of rooms. I stayed under his influence until we reached his bedroom. This kept him in control. I might have tried something, had I been thinking clearly. I might have been able to kill him as we walked through the castle, up and up, staircase after staircase, down a corridor, a turn, then another and another until we reached the very top where he resided. The place was a virtual maze. I might have bolted, getting lost in the hallways and rooms, trying to escape out of fear and loathing. At that moment I didn't loath him. I was under his spell. Which ensured he needed no escort. This was his time alone with me.
Finally, at the very pinnacle of his citadel, we reached his private suite of rooms. An elaborately carved wooden door marked the entrance. Dark cherry wood with angels and saints in bas relief. A throw back to his Catholic heritage, I imagined. I gazed at it in fascination, completely lost in the sensation of his power, as he punched a private code into a tiny key pad near the handle of the door. When he took my hand again I started in confusion and looked down as if burned by his touch. Remy smiled and I was lost in that smile. His red eyes seemed to glow, entrancing me deeper into the warmth he projected, so tender, so loving.
He said nothing, just led me through the doorway down a long dimly lit hallway. We immediately passed a slave room, where a small retinue of housekeeping slaves stayed to keep Remy's living quarters in order and to wait on his mundane needs when he was in residence. Just past this room large exquisite paintings and tapestries lined the walls. Renaissance paintings and religious themes, ancient pastels of meadows and forests, women and children laughing and playing along the shores of small lakes. Murals of days long past. Old works that must have been worth the cost of a small country. It was a wonder I noticed this art work at all, I was so far gone in his power.
We past three more doorways open to view. One was a small bedroom and I blinked when I thought I saw toys on the floor. I shook my head in disbelief, but then we were passed the room and I lost the thought as we moved along swiftly. There was what might have been a guest bedroom elegantly decorated in soft warm colors. A study was next with large oak bookshelves going up to the ceiling, almost encircling the room. An ornate desk sat just opposite the door. And I had a chance to see a globe encased in an iron stand. I wondered fleetingly if it was a map of this world and whether I'd be able to examine it more closely.
Then we were through a small sitting area with antique chairs and a small wooden table covered with marble. A dark maroon and navy blue couch sat against one wall. Intricate gold stitching detailed the fabric. Candles were burning in iron hangings on the wall and a Tiffany electric lamp stood behind the two chairs giving off a low glow, soft and graceful.
The door to his personal bedroom stood at the end of sitting room and I shuddered nervously as he opened it guiding me through. His powers had dimished. Remy, it appeared to me, felt safe enough now to let it wane. I was here without a fight. Not exactly sure why, I turned my head slightly as we went over the threshold to see two burly guards coming up the hallway. Then the door closed behind me with an ominous click.
Just inside the doorway, Remy stopped me, allowing me to take in my surroundings. I stood on the cool polished marble floor. A slight chill went through me.
"Home, cher." He said in a low husky voice promising pleasure beyond my wildest dreams. I tried to ignore it and looked around at the decor. To my left was a king-sized four poster bed made of cherry oak with a heavy brocade canopy. Thick roccoco fabric in burgundy, forest green and dark blue draped down at all four wooden posts and was neatly tied with gold braiding. At the head of the bed was a carved board, celtic in design, a stunning pattern. Two iron rings were attached to the headboard. Iron rings were also screwed into the four posts on the inner sides and down at the foot of the bed very close to the floor. A priceless plush Persian carpet lay at the end of the bed, its colors complementing the bedspread and canopy.
Another Persian rug, just as exquisite, ran before Remy and I almost to the large window. Two antique sitting chairs, similar in design to the ones in the hallway sitting area, sat in the middle of the room facing the window. They were covered in silk navy blue fabric with elaborate gold stitching. Heavy burgundy curtains shut out the daylight and all around the room candles burned in delicately worked iron holders, the atmosphere of the room like that of a Shakespearian castle adorned for a night of passion. As if to emphasize the antiquated environment the overhead electrical lights were low.
Turning my head to the right side of the rectangular room I examined the three mahogany couches covered in silk burgundy fabric with more of the intricate gold stitching. They sat in a U-shape in front of a large marble lined fireplace. The mantel was worked in soft natural oak. A few priceless, I assumed, antique statuettes and vases sat along its edge. Another soft Persian rug lay in front of the fireplace as a fire roared in the dark mouth of the ingle. Between the couches sat a cherry oak coffee table with small drawers lining the sides, iron rings used as handles. On the right side of the fireplace was a door. And along the wall, perpendicular to the door stood a huge ornate armoir.
After a few minutes, when Remy felt I'd had a long enough look around, he ran a hand over my spine and across my ass and pushed me forward toward the window. I was surprised by this action. I'd expected him to lead me right over to the bed, throw me onto it and fuck me there and then. Obviously I never really knew the man. I certainly didn't know him now. He was a complete mystery to me. He acted almost as a lover showing me his home for the first time, wanting to impress.
Remy guided me across the softest rug I'd ever had the priviledge to walk on. I felt as if my feet sank an inch or two into the plushness. Contrasting the coolness of the marble it set my senses tingling. An added effect for slaves brought here, something to enhance the nervousness they already were experiencing?
As we approached the window, Remy stepped away to pull open the thick curtains. Immediately I brought my hand up to block the fiercely setting sun from my squinting eyes. It was brilliant. Possibly the most gorgeous sunset I'd ever seen in my life. And with my own eyes. No ruby quartz glasses to veil the colors in reds and pinks. The sight was incredible. The window looked out over a city that seemed to be set ablaze. Yellows, oranges, umbers all bathed the buildings in an inferno. Windows sparkled and winked as the golden star slid below the horizon. The sky above shone rosy at the edges of the orb dueling with the reds and purples across the few scattered clouds. Yellow rays of light shot up through those clouds like the true voice of God. And closer to me the sky was a deeper blue, growing darker with every minute as the sun disappeared behind the city.
Remy stepped behind me with a lovely grin and placed his hands on my buttocks, massaging them gently with his fingers. I shivered as my muscles tightened. Was this where he would take me, in front of the city bathed in the setting sun? In spite of the nervous anticipation I felt as he touched me, I kept my eyes locked on the breathtaking view, not wanting to miss a moment.
"Manifique." Remy whispered, his breath warm and inviting in my ear drawing another shudder. "Almost enough to rival your beauty, eh cher?" Pulling me close, he wrapped his long arms tightly around my waist taking the earlobe in his teeth and wetting it with his tongue. Then letting it go he blew gently. If not for the ring I would have cum then furiously. Remy stretched himself taut along my back resting his chin on my right shoulder. We stood there in silence watching the sun escape down behind the buildings until lights began to flicker in the windows below. How many slaves were pleasuring their masters, maybe enjoying this view, I had to wonder.
As the last of the setting sun turned into an tiny eerie green arch and the sky turned nearly pitch in front of us, Remy sighed as if in sadness at the loss and turned me around to face him. He pressed his lips to mine and backed away to look at me closely, as if he almost couldn't believe I was here and I was his and I would obey. I watched him back for several minutes as his eyes trailed slowly down my nude form. Then, unable to stop myself, I turned my head to look at the bed with a dreadful expectation. Remy saw the movement and looked to where my gaze went. With a sly smile he looked back at me. "Soon enough, cher." Then he laughed. "You t'ink I'm just gonna throw you on de bed and fuck you thoroughly, eh?"
I turned back to meet his eyes, my look saying everything my lips would not.
His smile deepened. "I wouldn't be so crass, Scott. I want to savor you. I want to make love to you. And I want you to enjoy it. I want you to know that you loved being taken by another man and dat you loved being possessed by Remy Lebeau."
I felt my jaw tremble just a little and I clenched my teeth tightly together to stop the shaking. But Remy noticed the action and ran his fingertips across my jawline.
"Relax. I could never hurt you." I almost laughed, but then he added, "Unless you disobey me." His voice was low and as sensual as silk across my bare skin with no hint of the threat in his tone. His fingers burned along the edge of my chin as I flushed, part in anger at the threat, part in fear at the certainty of sex this night, and part in arousal as he touched me.
"Remy...I don't..." My head snapped back at the force of his hand striking across my face. I stood frozen in shock, eyes wide, anxious and furious.
"I own you, Scott. I didn't go t'rough de trouble of bringing you here for us to be friends. You'll address me properly. You'll call me Master. And you'll speak only when I permit it. Understand?" Remy's voice was razor-sharp, brooking no argument. His eyes seemed to glow more fiercely, narrowed into slits. Swallowing, I considered fighting him, my rage rising at his warning. I wasn't thinking very clearly, believing somehow that I could resist him. As far as hand-to-hand combat skills I was certain we were equally matched, though he was the more agile. But then I caught myself, reining in my anger as I realized he held the advantage with his kinetic mutation. I had to honestly question whether he'd use it against me. If he couldn't have me willingly, would he kill me instead? How deep did his obsession with me run? Of course he could take me willingly enough by turning on that damn charm of his. It was how he'd fucked Alex.
I straightened and nodded once, sharply. He had me, if not at his complete mercy, then very close to it. "Yes Master." The word rolled like acid off my tongue, bitter to the taste. Remy looked at me warily for a minute, taking in my reaction, measuring my acceptance, judging the tone of my answer. Was there a hint of sarcasm or disrespect there?
"D'ccord." He said at last, pulling me into his arms, his hands holding my ass firmly against him, his lips touching my throat running up from the hollow to the jugular with just the tip of his tongue. Then he begain to suck furiously, making me gasp as my knees weakened. He was marking me as his own. I could feel the purpling of my skin begin as Remy's lips left the mark to plunder my mouth. His tongue was insistent as it pushed forward demanding entrance. And I relinquished control then, opening to a bruising kiss that took my breath away. Suddenly I realized that for all his words of ownership he was trying to seduce me. There was an air of romance about his stance, his touch, his kiss. I shuddered and almost giggled at how romantic the scene was. Next he'd be bringing me flowers and candy and asking me to the prom.
Finally, Remy broke the kiss with a pat to my face and taking my hand, led me over to the fireplace. When he ordered me to kneel I dropped to the rug without argument, but slowly, still some defiance in my manner. As I looked up at him, Remy gazed thoughtfully down at me. I thought he was about to say something, but then he moved to sit on one of the couches. Placing his elbows on his knees and leaning forward, he rubbed his face wearily and muttered under his breath. I suppressed a surge of sympathy, thinking with contradictory delight "I must be a handful for him." The corners of my mouth curled up into a tight smile that vanished the moment he leaned back into the couch, stretched his arms across the top and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table.
We sat in silence for a long time and I wondered what exactly we were waiting for. Remy's eyes had closed and I felt certain he was asleep. I breathed a small sigh of relief. Maybe he'd sleep there all night and forget about me. I watched him closely as his facial muscles relaxed, thinking he really was a handsome man. His long silky auburn hair hung down the back of the couch giving me full view of his profile. He had a thin somewhat hawkish nose and high aristocratic cheek bones, soft pliable lips and a sharp angled chin. I'd heard him referred to as the prince of thieves or the prince of New Orleans. I could believe him to be royalty for all his being raised in the streets, an orphan and pick-pocket. Remy was a shade shorter than me, not much, but sitting back like that he seemed taller, longer. It was his slender build I imagine. He had a powerful body, but thin. Angular, but not bony. He was dressed in a regal purple, gold and black topcoat embroidered with a swirling paisley design. Loose black pants fit well into plain black boots that went up to his knees. His arousal was evident even underneath all that heavy clothing. I looked up into red on black eyes.
"Enjoying de view?"
My head whipped away, embarrassed to be caught admiring him so openly. Remy chuckled and was about to say something else when the door to his room opened quietly and a young blond-haired boy stepped shyly into the room. He closed the door just as quietly.
"Henri!" Remy voiced with delight. The boy smiled and came around to stand in front of him.
"My Lord." Henri said with an oddly reserved dignity for boy his age. I guessed him to be about nine or ten. He wore a navy blue tunic without embellishment, black pants and boots. A cute little boy, he had bleach blond hair and bright attentive blue eyes. "Cute as a button," Jean would have said.
Without another word from Remy, Henri began to tug at the Cajun's boot, slipping it off with little difficulty and placing it next to the table. Then he did the same with the other boot. Remy stood, but as the boy began to undo his pants, he looked over at me and scowled. Pushing the boy gently away he stepped in front of me and cracked me once again across the face.
"I'm no pedophile, hein!" Had my expression been that obvious? Apparently so. Remy cursed at me in French. Then he said, "Got a lot of nerve to judge me, homme, kneeling dere naked wit' a collar an' a cock ring on. 'Specially when Henri is fully clothed." I dropped my head somewhat ashamed, but mostly angry. What did he expect? Yound male sex slaves running around his palace. Seemed reasonable to me he might have a taste for young boys.
Remy bent down, digging his fingers into my chin and lifting it to look at me. He was furious. "Not dat I need to explain it to a slave," His tone was cold putting all the emphasis on the word slave, "but Henri is the illegitimate son of one of my courtiers. He's learning how to be a valet. Wit' my recommendation he'll be able to get a position in any of the homes of de wealthy. A free man. You're in no position to judge." He let go of my jaw roughly and stood up, still glaring at me.
I bit the inside of my cheek, drawing blood to keep from screaming back at him that I was no slave. That he'd taken me from my home, stripped me and collared me, forced me into this perverse role and was planning on raping me tonight no matter what he called it. I had every right to judge him. And to hate him. But it would get me nowhere. I gritted my teeth, biting back the rage and reached up to the fly of his trousers intending to give the sign of submission.
But Remy stopped me, understanding my intent. "Not until you mean it, mon cher." How could he say that? I'd never really mean it. I'd never really submit to him, not in my head, not in my heart.
I dropped my hand and my head and waited for him to act. A moment later I felt his fingers against my forehead pushing it back. At the same time he said, "Look at me, Scott." I tilted my head to look up at him keeping my expression neutral. His fingers worked through my hair, brushing it lightly, his gesture warm and tender. "No more fighting, eh?"
As if we'd actually been fighting, I thought laughing to myself. If we had it'd been a wholy one-sided argument with Remy as the winner hands down.
"Let's make this a pleasant evening, neh?" Remy continued brightly. "A night to remember. It's like our honeymoon, non?" I just looked at him, a slight clench of my jaw the only sign of my hatred. There he went again comparing our relationship to a marriage, as if it were something sacred and pure.
Remy cocked his head slightly to the left and hardened his look. He knew I was angry. The question was whether he would ignore it for the moment or try to break my anger out of me, perhaps turn it into fear. He sighed. I wasn't quite as broken as he'd thought. Bending down, he smoothed the hair from my brow and gave me a quick chaste kiss. Then he stepped back over to Henri, allowing the boy to finish undressing him. Remy would ignore my resistance for now.
Lowering my face, I watched him from the corner of my eye. Now naked he stretched his tight lean form lanquidly and raised his arms high above his head. Turning away from me as Henri went to the armoir, Remy twisted his head popping the bones. Then he placed his hands on the back of his hips and cracked the joints of his spine. His fingers sat just below the dimples of his rear. Lord, what a nice ass he had. Round and smooth. An image leapt into my head of me cupping those twin orbs with my hands, stoking the soft silky flesh and running my tongue along the crack of his ass while he writhed and moaned. I shuddered inwardly at the vision and looked away, not wanting to know what other images would spring to mind when he turned around.
I closed my eyes and focused my thoughts on other things. My wife, Jean. How beautiful she looked in the mornings when I woke before her. The sun streaming through the window would catch her hair causing it to sparkle. Her face would be smooth from rest and free of worry. I could have watched her forever like that, still not quite believing she loved me, the skinny freak with the ruby red glasses. That wouldn't work. So I went through the list of X-men enemies and their powers. A little better. But Remy could now be included on that list. Okay, mutants with horribly disfiguring powers. That did the trick. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up. Remy was clothed in a purple satin robe tied loosely around his slender hips. "C'mon, cher. I need a bath."


Chapter Fifteen

Remy led me through the door near the fireplace, into a classically gilded bathroom. Marble tile ran right up to a huge sunken bath. A shower stall that could easily fit twenty people (and probably did at times, I suspected) stood against the far wall. There was an arched entrance on the left wall through which I could see cherry wooden cabinets topped by a marble surface. A mirror framed in a golden Romanesque support hung above the countertop.
As I stood there for a moment mesmerized by the water running from the two ornate faucets arching over the tub, Remy pushed me toward it with a light slap to my rear, bringing me out of my thirsty daze. "Get in." He ordered. I stepped down onto a wide porcelin bench into the warm fragrant water, restraining the urge to place my head under one of the faucets and drink until my stomach burst. Wading to the far corner of the bath, I sank down onto another bench and watched Remy warily. He gave me an encouraging but sly smile and dropped his robe as seductively as a woman. But what was revealed underneath left no doubt he was a man. Long-boned, slender at the hips, hardened rosy nipples and a light speck of russet hair along his chest that ran like a V toward his groin. His cock was half-engorged, long and thicker than I'd expected. (Not that I'd tried to dwell on the subject too often). I shuddered inwardly at the thought of him trying to pierce me with it.
Remy came toward the tub slowly, carefully, as if to assess my reaction to his body. And, I imagine, to allow me an agonizing drawn-out look. But I kept my eyes on his face, only noting his body in my periphery. More than a glance downward might have caused me to salivate from the thirst and hunger pangs I continued to experience. If he'd only get on with it, I thought irritably, so that I could get some real food and drink like he'd promised.
After he'd gracefully entered the water, Remy tapped a tile at the nearest corner and a small shelf emerged out of the wall of the tub filled with toiletries: a small selection of shampoos, conditioners, oils, soaps, sponges and washclothes.
"Come here." He gestured to the shelf and the bench beside it. Sighing, I pushed up off my seat and reluctantly went to him. Remy instructed me to sit with my legs spread up on the bench. Then he snuggled down between my thighs as if he had every right to be there. Arrogance oozed from him like the beads of water dripping from the ends of his hair. I lifted my hands in the air, letting them hang for the moment as if loathed to touch him, while he settled his body back against my chest. Thankfully the water seemed to ease the throb in my cock, making Remy's form seem lighter though his spine pressed up against my erection.
Closing his eyes in contentment he said, "Wash me." I hesitated and so he added, "Start wit' de hair, cher, and work your way down." Remy looked back up at me mischieviously. "Surely you've done dis before." He winked at me as if we shared a secret, then rested his head back down on my shoulder. "Dere's a shower nozzle under de shelf."
I dropped my hands and searched for it, tugging it roughly from its dock. There was a button on the side of the spout, and pointing it out over the tub, I pushed it, testing the pressure. It sprayed with just a gentle mist so I aimed it at Remy's head and began stroking his hair with my free hand, helping the water to soak in.
Of course I'd done this before. I'd often washed Jean's hair. It was one of my favorite things to do. She had a gorgeous mane, thick and silky. I never told her out loud, but one of my secret turn-ons was brushing that mane. I'd whine and complain whenever she asked me to do it, but she knew even in the back of my bitching that I liked performing the little chore and so she asked often. I hated the feelings that stirred in me as I ran my fingers through Remy's locks. He had almost the same texture as Jean, just a little coarser but not by much. I took pleasure in the sensation of the strands against my fingertips and was aroused by the intimacy. But I was angry at myself for finding the experience so enticing.
Then it dawned on me that perhaps in his arrogance, Remy had let his guard down. I was a match for him strengthwise. One violent push and I could force his head underwater, keeping it there until his eyes bulged and the life drained out of him. Could he access that charm of his before he lost consciousness? Or would the terror of the moment deprive him of the concentration he needed to persuade me to let him loose? Maybe he'd tap into that kinetic power, charging the collar around my neck and blowing my head off. Or worse, charge the ring around my penis. All these thoughts circled around my head at once, both tempting and terrifying, and my hand stopped in its path across his scalp.
I nearly jumped when he spoke, casually but with an edge of warning. "I know what you're t'inking, mon ami. You could kill me now, eh?" I looked down into those scarlet eyes laced with lust and a hint of danger, my own eyes widened in surprise. Was he a telepath? Had he kept that knowledge from us all those years he'd been on the team? Or was he just making an accurate assumption, thrilled by the rush, knowing I wanted to murder him and gambling his life I wouldn't?
"Yeah." I answered honestly.
"You could, Scott." His tone remained calm and casual as if he were merely discussing the weather. "You might even make it to de portal before Henri found me. But I doubt you could make it in time to get your baby brot'er from de slave quarters." I frowned, wondering what he was hinting at. Then he told me. "Dey'd execute him immediately. He's your brot'er after all. All de guards know it. Dey'd expect him to be in on de kill. Someone has to pay for de king's murder."
Remy looked down into the water, swirling it sensuously with one long finger. "So you 'ave to ask yourself, homme, am I a gambling man? Would I bet de life of my only brot'er to kill Remy Lebeau?"
The silence was a roar in my ear, pressing heavily against my senses. My hand became rigid on the top of Remy's head and the water sprayed aimlessly into the tub. All of a sudden I could hardly think and my mouth felt even drier than before. That was the weakness Alex had spoken about. That was what Remy held over me, my brother's life. No, I wouldn't gamble his life. This palace was a maze. I had no idea where the portal room was. I had no idea where my brother was. And once the guards were alerted to Remy's bloated corpse one flick of the control box and I'd be stopped dead in my tracks. Freedom depended on how long it took for the murder to be discovered.
And then I remembered the guards at the door. From what I'd seen of the bedroom and this bathroom there was only one way out. I abruptly inhaled. Unless I wanted to fight my way out past those guards and most likely die during the battle, I'd have to wait for a better opportunity.
But would I kill Remy even then? I wanted to. The image of my hands around his throat, his eyes wide with terror, the water pouring into his gaping mouth as he struggled, was heady. But my respect for life, even his sorry hide, and even to the point of my own humiliation, was too ingrained. Had I wanted the man dead I would have already succumbed to the temptation of drowning him. No, I wouldn't murder him, as much as I wanted to. What I was really looking for was a chance to escape.
After a time that felt endless, Remy lifted my hand from his head in a self-assured manner and placed it to his lips. The kiss was swift, tugging at the skin just above the vein, belying the threat and speaking volumes. When he let go, I placed it against his forehead and went back to work. He wriggled in satisfaction, so trusting of my nature and his portentous words.
Biting my tongue on the curses at its tip, I scowled. He was sure of himself and I hated his affectation, but I continued to soak his hair, unable to do anything other than what he ordered. When his mane was thoroughly wet, I reached over to the shelf and brusquely grabbed a bottle of shampoo, taking my wrath out on the inanimate object, squeezing the plastic until it nearly burst. But as I began to lather the auburn locks, my ire receded and my mind drifted as I imagined Jean's hair beneath my fingertips. Thankfully, Remy was blessedly quiet as I raked his scalp gently. No sounds intruded on my daydream and I took my time, stroking and massaging, my nails scratching lightly. On occasion he'd shiver, but even then I could imagine it was my wife, the love of my life enjoying the shampoo.
Eventually reality came crashing down when Remy opened his eyes and looked up at me sleepily. "Dat's nice cher," He said with a lazy intonation, "but I t'ink it's time to rinse."
Letting out a low bitter sigh, I turned the nozzle back on and washed the soap from his hair.
"Master?" I began through gritted teeth. That title would never roll easily off my tongue, but I wasn't sure if Remy would get angry for asking a question without at least showing some proper respect at the outset.
His tone was lanquid and forgiving. "Oui?"
"Do you want me to repeat?"
"Conditioner?" I'd intended to use it, but the question was raised to measure how much I could say without incuring his anger.
"Oui." Still calm, still unconcerned.
I began again, but this time my mind remained alert, the peaceful images of my wife difficult to retrieve. Instead I turned my attention to Remy and our...relationship. How would he define it? When would I be able to speak freely? Would I be able to speak freely?
"Master?" I began again.
"Oui?" A mild irritation in the tone this time. He didn't appreciate being constantly interrupted from the bliss of my fingers through his hair. I pressed on regardless. "May I speak freely?" I kept my voice low and soothing, no trace of anger or sarcasm in my inflection.
There was a pause as Remy contemplated giving his permission. In the end he granted my request. "Okay."
"I just wanted you to define my speaking...arrangement. You told me not to speak unless spoken to. But, am I allowed to ask questions so that I understand exactly what it is you want?"
"Of course, cher." Remy patted my thigh and snuggled further back into my arms as if the discussion was over.
I rinsed the second lather away thoughtfully, tugging on his locks to pull off the excess water. Remy sighed with delight and I had a sudden urge to press my lips and nose against the strands in my hand, to taste and smell his radiance. Instead I grabbed the bottle of conditioner, dabbed a small amount onto my palm and combed it softly through his hair.
"Will you hit me everytime I say something without your permission?" I asked tentatively. "Master." I added to ward off any negative reactions.
I could almost hear Remy frown in annoyance. "Only when you say something I don't like or I feel the need to correct you." He paused, but before I could say more he continued. "We'll talk 'bout dis later. You're a smart boy, Scott. You'll figure out de rules." He flicked the water with his fingers muttering. "Always de rules wit' you. Always got to be knowin' where you stand."
"Well yeah!" I said a bit taken aback. "I don't think I'd like being cracked across my face everytime I say something." Instinctively, I rubbed my cheek.
Remy chuckled and smiled mischieviously up at me, moving my fingers away to stroke the skin he'd hit. "Dat little love pat? C'mon, cher, you've been t'rough much worse."
"That's debatable." I grumbled. Remy laughed and dipped his hand below the water, running it up my thigh until he reached my groin. Firmly he cupped my testicles and rolled them between his fingers. I squirmed in frustration.
"Don't!" I rasped. "Please!"
"Why?" He asked with a devious grin. "Is dis torture?"
"Just frustrating," I breathed, "because of this thing you've got around my dick."
Remy released my balls but continued to stroke my thigh lazily. That was nearly as bad. "And if I took it off you'd be more...enthusiastic?"
"Probably." I grunted. "I don't have a whole lot of options here."
"True." He nodded. "Well, we'll see, mon cher. We'll see. But you got to remember dat de master/slave relationship is defined by de master. You're here to service and pleasure me. Don't forget dat."
"How could I possibly forget?" I replied earnesty tugging at the collar around my neck. Remy's fingers left my thigh and reached back to pat my cheek in a sympathetic manner. Then he sought my lips running the tips across their dryness. It was too tempting. I opened my mouth and sucked one finger inside lapping up the soapy moisture. Closing my eyes I felt him writhe a little against me as he began to plunge his finger in and out of my mouth. Then he offered a second and I sucked even more avidly. Despite the bitter taste, the liquid soothed my arid tongue. It had been too long since my last feeding. I was thirsty and hungry and aroused. Grabbing his wrist tightly I stopped his pistoning and sucked in his thumb licking it dry. Then I laved at the hand, supping on the tiny drops of water clinging there just to entice me.
I protested with a groan when Remy tore his hand away. "Not yet, m'sweet. Not yet." His voice was ragged and his breathing rapid and labored. But he was still in control.
"Why not?!" I whined in vexation.
Remy let out a short bark of husky laughter. "So eager to feel your master inside of you, pet?"
"I just want to get it over with!" I snapped and regretted the words the instant I spat them out. Remy tensed saying nothing and his silence was ominous. I'd stepped over the line. He knew I didn't want him, not really, not by choice, and I certainly didn't love him. But to almost bluntly point it out was a grievous error. And while I wouldn't have cared if he punished me for the infraction, I was worried that he'd use Alex as the weapon. I had to rectify the situation and quickly before he came to a decision I wouldn't like.
"I'm just thirsty Master, and hungry." Bending down with a hint of resignation I placed my lips on his shoulder. "It's been awhile and I'm frustrated." This was true enough. Not exactly what he wanted to hear, but it would do for now. I felt him relax just a little. At least he wanted me and I could use that to my advantage. Not often. Remy wasn't stupid. But on occasion he might forgive my outbursts if I played up to his desire. I ran light kisses toward his throat and up to the base of his ear, running my tongue up behind it. Remy's head cocked to one side to give me better access and I heard him gasp when I sucked in the earlobe. I couldn't bring myself to apologize, but my lips and tongue were saying enough.
"Very well." I heard him rasp. "You'll be fed." He moved suddenly out of my arms and hopped up onto the side of the tub. Sitting back on his hands he said, "Let's just see how well your baby brot'er taught you." I heard the slight emphasis on the word 'brother' like a threat. One hand cupped the base of his full erection and then slid up the shaft on the tips of his fingers. "Feed on me, avide petit morue!"
I didn't have to understand that last part to know Remy was still in a dangerous mood. This was a test of my skill and my obediance. I'd have to pass on both accounts or I felt sure he'd punish me. Slowly I waded between his legs catching my first good glimpse of his manhood. It was just a hair longer than my brother's, but a good bit thicker. I swallowed, my throat tightening on instinct, and knelt down on the bench. Rubbing my lips together nervously I leaned forward and sniffed. Remy had a clean, musky smell, with just a touch of the fragrance of the water. The scent spurred me on as I remembered the taste of his fingers and the moisture that had clung to them. I licked the enflamed head of his cock, pressing the tip of my tongue down into the slit. He moaned and once again sat back on his hands, his erection rocking gently against my tongue. With a careful movement I reached up to take his testicles between my fingers. Alex had warned me it was rare for Remy to give a slave control of the situation. But when he didn't push my hands away I relaxed thinking he was allowing me free rein.
The organ was still pleasantly wet from the bath and I reveled in the double taste of water droplets mixed with his pre-cum. He was oozing steadily from the meatus. With a tiny popping sound I sucked the head between my lips and moved forward inch by tantilizing inch, swirling my tongue along the sensitive underside. When I'd reached halfway I pulled back out. "Merde!" Remy breathed in frustration. I smiled. Two could play this game. My fingers squeezed his sack with a persistent pleasant pressure as I played with the tender loose fleshy frenulum, sucking it between my lips in long tight gulps.
I could feel his ire vanish as he rocked his hips, tensing and thrusting upward, soft Cajun patois flying from his lips. "Mon Dieu, don' tease." I nearly laughed. It was heady, being able to make him squirm. I could almost desire him like this. Almost. But my need was even more basic than sex. I wanted something to fill my belly and relieve my thirst. I grasped the base of his cock making him gasp and held it firmly where I wanted it. Then I placed my forearms on his thighs letting the weight of my upper body keep him seated, unable to thrust. He didn't protest and I licked the head as a reward. Over and over I ran my tongue, admitting even to myself that the sensation of his skin against my tastebuds and nervendings was intoxicating. The tip of his penis was velvet, smooth and slick. Little rivulets of fluid ran down into my mouth and I began to guzzle them down with a vibrating hum and moan as I allowed the rosy head to tip between my lips. Remy gasped, and I prepared myself, expecting him to come, but he pulled himself back from under my arms, drawing himself back from the brink.
Suddenly my eyes widened in surprise as he let his power surge through me. I could feel his sensations, my mouth wrapped around his penis, the flow of his pre-cum, the brink of his orgasm. It was all internal, waves of ecstasy crashing through my brain, setting every nerve on fire. And I wanted him to step over that precipice. I wanted him to get THERE, to cum for me and in me and surround me with that incredible sensation that bordered on heaven. I slammed my mouth all the way down to his belly. My throat spasmed at the intrusion but I didn't care. All I cared for was his pleasure that would ensure mine. Remy cried out at the force of my need as my throat clamped down on his erection. I pulled out as quickly as I'd gone down and began a surging rhythm, releasing his hips so he could join me. Down and down I went each time to the root and I could feel it, the further building of his orgasm. Tears burned my eyes at the intensity, but I couldn't...I wouldn't stop until he came. And when he did, shooting wildly into my throat, I felt it all. Fireworks and stars sparkling against the darkness of my closed lids. My own erection stained painfully against the cock ring, but it did not matter. All that mattered was the crash of those sensations, the force of his climax running through me. It was love and pain, hurt and surrender, bliss and the pinnacle of the firmament all wrapped up and forced through my nervous system. The feeling unhinged and overwhelmed me, trapped me in its claws like an addiction I never wanted to break. I flew off him with a strangled cry, almost choking on his cum, and fell back into the water. My arms and legs shook violently as the sensations continued to flood through me for a moment longer.
Then Remy was slipping down into the water with me, taking me into his arms and kissing me with a bruising passion. And I couldn't help but kiss him back, meeting his lips with a blissful gratitude. For that moment he was everything, master, lover, friend, husband, life. When he broke the kiss to sit back on the bench of the tub and pull me into his lap, I continued to shudder. With a firm but tender hand he pushed my head down onto his shoulder and held me tightly to him. I felt him cup the water and run it soothingly down my spine sending more shivers through my form.
"Alex taught you well." He whispered, his own breath still ragged. "Mon Dieu! He taught you well!"
I smiled against his shoulder. "Well, he is a Summers after all." I croaked. "It's in the genes."
Remy burst into delighted laughter. "Such modest boys too." I chuckled a little with him, then feeling steadier I pulled back off his lap. He didn't stop me.
"What now?" I asked, looking directly at him. He gazed at me and I knew that he understood my meaning. But nothing had changed. In his eyes, I was still his possession.


Chapter Sixteen

Touching a hand to his slick hair Remy said, "Time to rinse, mon couer. And finish de bath." My lips tightened in angry resignation, but he was looking over my shoulder, ignoring my expression. "I t'ink we'll use de shower." Standing up he turned away from me and stepped sensuously out of the bath, flicking his hair off his shoulder to spray tiny droplets across my chest. I watched in sore fascination as a bead of water ran down his spine, catching just at the top of his dimpled crack. It clung for a long moment like a worshipper refusing to leave the foot of his god before Remy turned back around to face me, flinging it loose. I almost envied that droplet, worshipping the lovely man before me and then blessedly tossed away, forgotten. If only Remy would let me go as easily.
But he stretched his hand out commanding me to join him, a wily smile on his deceptively gentle features. I took the hand he offered and got out of the water. We padded around to the shower stall without speaking. Assuming it was my job, I turned on the shower and waited for it to warm to a comfortable level. Remy watched me with that mischievious little grin on his face, his hands tucked behind his back. When I was fairly certain the water was at a temperature he'd find pleasing enough, I stepped back and bowed to him formally.
"My Lord, I think you'll find the water sufficient. Shall I rinse your hair for you?" His grin broadened. Obviously he was in a better mood and would enjoy my playful banter. I was in a better mood myself, in spite of the situation.
Without a word, Remy stepped under the showerhead. "Water's jus' right, mon couer."
Moving behind him, I brought my hands up and ran them through his hair, wringing the conditioner away. I let my hands move as they wanted, to massage his scalp in an almost loving way. Remy leaned back against me letting the water rush over his face and torso, most of his weight perched on my shoulders. After a time, the conditioner completely rinsed from his locks, I pushed him up gently and reached over to a shelf that held shower supplies. Grabbing the sponge hanging there along with the liquid soap I lathered it up and began to wash my master.
Starting at his neck I ran the soapy sponge slowly, seductively over his skin, letting the foam flow over his back to trickle down and pool at the upturn of his hips. Remy purred under my touch. Caught up in the sound and motion, I nearly fell over when he stepped away. I recovered quickly and followed him to the wall of the shower as he leaned up against it, his back presented to me, his arms hanging loosely at his sides and his forehead resting against the cool tile. I moved up very close to his body and ran the sponge down one of his arms. I let my lathered hand slide down his other arm, moving in tiny circles. Shivers and gasps fell from his lips like the water spraying down onto the tiled floor.
Taking my time, trying not to contemplate what emotions had taken hold of me, I stroked his firm muscles, digging my fingers in with the soapy water to massage and cleanse every inch of his skin. I think I wanted him quaking under my fingertips, burning for my touch in much the same way I had been enflamed by his power, overwhelmed by his thrall. And I was rewarded for my diligence by an empathetic wave surging over me. Without thinking I raised my hips against his rear and pressed my length up his spine eliciting a groan. My hands came around and I soaked his chest with the lathered sponge, playing with his nipples. Remy undulated back into my groin, this time causing me to gasp as pain and pleasure past through me. Alex had been undeniably correct: Remy was better than even his boasts.
For long tantalizing minutes we teased each other. I continued to wash him and fondle his lean body. And he continued to sway his hips in a very provocative manner. Our groans and gasps and whimpers the only sounds we made. No words, and I wouldn't place my lips on his skin.
After several unfufilled moments, I placed my hands on his hips to hold him still. I was running on instinct, not sure exactly what to do, but knowing that so far I'd been driving him wild. At least the sensations that he projected out to me told me so. I moved a little to the side of him to watch his face. His eyes were closed, his head still hung down, forhead resting on the wall, and he was worrying his bottom lip in arousal. I wanted to bite into that swollen lip, sucking it hard. It looked so delicious as droplets of water or perhaps sweat held fast to the underside. But then he opened his eyes and I cringed at the knowing look he gave me, red eyes glowing with confidence. He'd bring me to ecstasy beyond my wildest dreams and I'd be his forever. I couldn't let him believe that. Not now. Hopefully never.
So I bent to a crouch and focused on his legs. I curled the sponge around his right foot, touching his calf to get him to lift it. Each toe and then the bottom of the foot was cleaned and I moved to the left. Then I ran up his entire leg, lathering all of it, once again not missing an inch of his skin. When I reached the area where his thigh met his groin, I ran a finger feather-light along the length of his shaft. As it bobbed and grew even more erect, Remy cursed me in French and Cajun, then swatted my head saying, "Tease!" I smiled and went to work on the other leg.
Pretty soon all that was left was his cock and his rear. I stepped back squeezing the sponge into my hand forming a thick foam. Then I dropped the sponge and grabbed both of his ass cheeks, copying his own particular style of kneading the flesh. One finger ran the length of his crack and prodded the opening. But he stepped forward with a warning growl, "No, cher. Dat's not for you." I shrugged. It was worth the try.
I moved my hands back over his ass, trailing them over his hips, stroking the bony flesh for a second before plunging on to his cock. The slippery foam helped my hands slide up and down with ease, and Remy began a thrusting rhythm as I jacked him off. My hand ran smooth and fast along his slick cock drenched by the shower and soap. I pumped him furiously, waiting for that wash of empathetic power as he climaxed. But Remy was selfish. He kept his power in check. So in my frustration I squeezed down hard causing him to buck back into me with a hiss as he grabbed my arm vise-like.
Remy's hips plowing into my swollen sensitive erection drew a yelp from me and I let go of him, stumbling back. He spun around, angry, his member now limp from the pain I'd induced. As he stalked toward me I stepped back further and further until I hit the wall under the rushing spray of the shower head. And Remy was there in a flash, his nose inches from my face.
"Tryin' to tear it off, mon ami?" His voice was amazingly steady, but I could hear the underlying menace.
"N-no." I stammered out my reply. "I wanted that sensation. What you did before." It had been incredible, that surge of his own sensual feeling he'd let wash through me. But there was something else about it. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on. Something I felt was missing in me that the experience gave back in part. I'd felt safe for a moment, as if back on familiar territory. But a blind spot came up in my mind and I couldn't pin down where that sense of safety came from.
I choked on my words as Remy snickered, then began to laugh heartily. He placed both hands on my neck, caressing the back with his fingers. "Oh mon petit, you are greedy!"
Pressing his lips tenderly down on mine, he sought entrance. Waves of euphoria swirled through my brain to spiral down my spine, flooding my nervous system. Remy entwined his fingers in mine and lifted my hands above my head. Leaning into me he placed his knee between my legs stirring my groin. I moaned helplessly into the kiss, willingly granting him entry.
"Yes." I pleaded breathlessly, beyond hope of resisting this rush of sensations. "Please. Give it to me."
I was also way beyond caring that I begged. Even if I couldn't climax physically, that energy was like a mental burst and oh so highly addictive. *Again.* I thought over and over. *Do it again.*
However, Remy wouldn't let me reach the end. He broke away, his lips trailing across my cheek as the tendrils of energy receded. It took all my willpower at that point not beg him to sustain the thrill. There still belonged to me a tiny rational bit of thought, even in the height of his affection. Apparently I wasn't completely beyond humiliation. I'd only beg so much.
Remy lapped at the water coarsing down my face, catching it as it pooled at the corners of my upturned lips. I kept my eyes closed and my mouth slightly open, relishing the constant flood of moisture past my lips. I felt raw and vulnerable and as near to broken as I'd ever been by the surge of emotions wracking my body. Remy had been right. If he kept up this torrent of feeling he'd have me, body, heart and soul. He'd have my love.
Yet it was unthinkable to push him away, to beg him to stop. And he already knew I wanted what he had to offer. It was so easy to accede when he whispered in my ear, "Wash yourself, cher. I want to watch you. I want you fresh for me tonight."
He moved back releasing my fingers. Feeling dazed and blind, I reached over to the shelf acting out of habit. Hair first, then body. My head dropped back under the shower as I lathered it well. And Remy came close again, his fingers trailing down my chest, circling once around the hardening nipples and then dipping like a tease across my stomach causing the muscles there to quiver. It was nearly impossible to concentrate on the task at hand, but I succeeded, wringing the water out of my cropped reddish-brown hair. I repeated the process out of routine, unable to really think. This time when I rinsed, Remy was even closer, twirling the strands between his fingers.
"I t'ink I'd like to see you wit' long hair. You'll grow it for me, petit." It was a statement murmured against my cheek. An order to be obeyed. So I nodded and he kissed me for my submission, swift along my cheek.
Suddenly embarrassed by how easily he played me, I moved quickly around him to retrieve the sponge. An excuse just to get away for a moment, to breath easier for a second. I could feel a flush beginning to burn across my pale skin. Remy said nothing. But I noted the frown he wore when I stood, sponge in hand.
Giving him a foolish grin, I swiveled the sponge, sudden relief washing through me when he returned my smile. And I realized that while I told myself I didn't consciously want what he had to offer, I certainly didn't want to incure his wrath either.
Stepping back under the shower, I slowly, methodically began to bathe. I think most people wouldn't equate me with sensuality. I'm not completely comfortable with my body, almost shy about it. I understand the concept of its attraction, but I can't really believe that it's beautiful as Remy told me. When I look in the mirror all I see are the peculiar ruby quartz glasses that hide my eyes and brand me a mutant, the too gaunt form that earned me the nickname 'slim', though I've worked hard to fill out my frame, and the austere facial features that bare an aloofness only magnified by my hidden eyes. I rarely smiled, never really able to relax. And my body reflected that restrictiveness. How could Remy be drawn to someone so awkward, I wondered? Perhaps my gracelessness was in itself alluring?
I couldn't dance for Remy. I couldn't perform in this sexually charged uncomfortable atmosphere. So I washed myself like I always do, painfully aware of his eyes on me. And I think my guilelessness only endeared me to him more. He stepped closer. I had turned away from him to ease the fluster I felt as he looked at me, his eyes hooded, his lust palpable. Tremors wracked my body when he ran his hands up my lathered sides. He pressed his torso across my back and slid his fingers around my chest to tweak my nipples, sending a shock of electricity down to my groin. I wriggled, trying to get away from his touch as the swell of my cock throbbed even harder. At the same time in contradiction to the pain, I pushed back into his hips, a shameless invitation for him to enter me.
"Don' stop." Remy whispered, a honeyed caress against my ear. "Touch yourself, cher." His hands worked their way lower and lower towards my painful groin, pausing at my navel to circle it over and over, forcing me to crush back against his body, keeping me where he wanted me. Remy was wringing every provocative gesture from me, eroding any resolve I had to not give into his allure. My hands moved as if possessed, gliding across my torso with the sponge in one hand, pinching the nipples with my other, undulating all the while, pleading with my body for Remy to finish it, to set me free, to give me my release. And then his hand reached the cock ring and he murmured something I never before would have found so tempting from another man. "Come for me, Scott."
The ring was released and I spasmed uncontrollably as Remy brought one of his hands down to wrap around my swollen cock giving it a gentle squeeze and a quick stroke before letting it go. God, it felt so good! The spray of the shower and the soapy lather made it so easy to slide along my flesh as my body jerked like a marionette on a wire. I dropped the bath sponge to grab myself with both hands while Remy placed one hand on my belly to hold me steady. Then he moved his other hand to cover one of my hands. He rode the movement until I reached the tip, then stroked the rosy head with his thumb, pressing into the slit. I bucked backward with a groan until he stroked back down to the root. Together, we set up a swift intense rythm. Remy purred soft words of encouragement in my ear, stirring my mind into a whorl of emotions. I thrust faster and faster, whimpering and gasping. And when he projected the feel of his hand moving on top of my hand, a finger rubbing across the tip as we reached it each time, I exploded in a forward surge, gurgling inarticulately. I saw white for several long moments. Then stars and flashes of light. Then his soft lips coming toward me through the water, murmuring his love, his desire, "Mon amour, you'll always belong to me. Mon couer. Si beau..." I was facing him now, wrapped in his arms in a sweet embrace. Oh dear God, he would have me! All I wanted to do was drown in his kiss.
But he pulled away, smearing my seed across his chest. "Scott, mon cher..." was all he had to say and I was licking my taste from him, sucking his nipples clean. My hands were on his hips holding onto him tightly and I began to move down toward his stomach. He stopped me then and lifted me back up, kissing me quickly, then setting me out of the way to let the shower cleanse him more thoroughly.
I could feel my heart drumming swiftly against my chest and my breathing was deep and steady, but rapid none the less, as I watched him. The desire to touch him was like a craving that sickened me as I stood in the cool air outside the warm spray. I leaned my head back trying to slow my breathing, ashamed and angry. How could I have succumbed so easily to him? He'd manipulated my emotions making me beg and I'd heeled like a dog to the sound of his master's voice. I caught a sob deep in my throat before it reached the air. I'd be damned if I showed him my shame. One more battle he'd have won.
A hand touched my shoulder and I opened my eyes to look at Remy, unable to disguise my pain and fury. His own eyes showed only tenderness and maybe sympathy. He understood. But it didn't change anything. Touching my cheek, he swamped my senses again with his empathy, and I calmed visibly as he took my hand. We stepped out into the bathroom and he guided me toward the archway into the mirrored room. Grabbing a fresh towel from one of the cabinets, Remy wrapped me in it and pampered me dry. My lids drooped under the onslaught of his power. I felt so tired. But then he was prodding me over to one of the sinks, placing a toothbrush into my hand, and telling me to brush. His power receded and I felt drained of my anger and shame. I did what he told me to.
Remy dried himself off quickly, then brushed his teeth also. When we'd finished, he patted the counter of the sink and told me to sit up on it. He produced a comb from one of the drawers and proceeded to comb out my hair. I almost fell asleep under his gentle touch. But before I could dose off, he was done and handed me the comb. I ran it through his hair, trying to match his gentleness, but his locks were longer and a little more difficult to untangle. He cursed at me a few times, but didn't threaten to punish. I gave him a sad smile in the mirror and he quieted. "No cher, it's okay. Just don' pull so hard."


Chapter Seventeen

When I'd finished combing his hair into one smooth silky wave, we went back into his bedroom, Remy grabbing his robe and me helping him into it. The smell of food immediately hit me and sent a wave of nausea rolling through my stomach. I grabbed Remy's shoulder to keep from stumbling, putting my other hand to my belly.
"Oh, mon petit." Remy said, his voice full of concern. "De food? Is de smell to much for you?" He wrapped a steadying arm around my waist as I nodded. "It will pass in a moment. It's been too long since you've had a full meal. We'll take it slow, cher. A few bites to see how you'll handle it."
I took a deep breath as the nausea lessened. But now the pangs of hunger were sharp and I wouldn't pass up this opportunity to eat till I was stuffed. "I'm okay. It smells okay now. Just took me by surprise."
Remy smiled, his expression showing he knew I'd lie through my teeth to get at the food. "Perhaps we should wait 'til you feel better." He teased. "I'll have de servants take de table away."
"No!" I cried clutching his shoulder tighter. "Really...Master. I'm fine." Remy chuckled but said nothing else as he led me over to small dining table set in front of the fireplace. Again that sense of romance came to me as I looked at the elegant setting. Two small delicately worked silver candleholders sat in the middle with two white candles burning softly. A crystal vase with one red rose sat between them. But there was only one place set for dining. The rest of the table held silver covered serving dishes. And there was only one chair. I looked at the setup in confusion for a moment until Remy lowered himself into the seat and said, "Kneel, pet. Here beside me."
I closed my eyes and rubbed my face with a fatigued anger that came close to depression. How long was it going to take to sink in that Remy wasn't going to treat me like an equal? I was his pet as he said. His slave. This one command deflated me, and humiliation ran through me. Was he going to feed me from his hand too? With bitter resignation and a heavy sigh, I dropped to my knees and waited.
As if on cue, Henri opened the door and came in. He went around to the other side of Remy. "My Lord, shall I serve you now?"
Remy rubbed Henri's upper arm affectionately. "Mon petit, have you finished your lessons today?" Henri bit his lip nervously. "Well...I..."
Remy ruffled his hair and began to speak to him in French. Henri replied, occasionally receiving a tut-tut from his lord. I kept my head down, not understanding a word, silent and brooding. Finally Remy said to Henri in English, "You need to study, petit. A gentleman's gentleman must be well educated, Henri. And I wouldn't feel dat it was right to get you dat new Final Fantasy game de next time I go to Earth, if you don' know your lessons." Remy winked at the boy as Henri's eyes got wide.
"I'm sorry, sir." He said. "I'll study harder. I promise."
Remy laughed. "Of course, petit. A little encouragement helps perhaps. G'on, cher. We'll serve ourselves. I won't need you tonight." I looked up to see Henri smile brightly back at Remy. Then he ran like the little boy he was to the door. "And don' stay up too late on dat playstation!" Remy hollared at him as he skipped out the door. As it slammed shut, he looked down at me. " Kids. What a joy in life, non?"
I just looked at him evenly, trying to betray no emotion. But his smile faltered and his eyes narrowed slightly. "What is it, Scott?"
"Nothing." I muttered. "Nothing." When I looked down, Remy raised my chin to look at me.
"Non. Somet'ing's de matter. You'll answer me."
"What do you want me to say?" I asked. Then I spoke candidly. He wanted the truth, I'd give it to him. "I hate this. I hate how you treat me. Like some pet. What's next? Are you planning on feeding me table scraps with your hand. I'm no dog!"
"Of course not, cher!" Remy smiled again wickedly. Then his eye grew serious. "But you are too willful right now. I told you that at this point you wouldn't like what I'd ask of you. But a slave must be brought to heel. You must understand your place, petit."
"Fine." I snarled.
Remy grasped my jaw tightly. "Don' take dat tone wit' me, Scott. You wouldn't want to experience de punishment I deal for unruly slaves, believe me."
He tossed my head back, irritated for the moment. "Now, you are hungry, eh?"
Still a bit recalcitrant, I nodded. "And yes," Remy added as if to heighten the sting of humiliation, "you will eat from my hand, mon choit."
I took in a sharp irritated breath and let it out just as sharply. To which Remy made a tut-tut noise. He'd have none of my obstinant attitude. I dropped my head and plucked absently at the rug. I felt him watch me for a moment, even expected a blow for my disrespect, but then he leaned forward and began to inspect the dishes laid out in front of him.
"Mmmmmm." I looked up to see him with one hand holding the silver cover of one of the entrees. His eyes were closed and he was taking a delighted sniff. Food was almost as good as sex for him. "Si bien. Delicious." He looked down at me then. "Hope you like Cajun, cher."
My eyebrows crinkled in puzzlement. "I always ate the crap you served." I retorted. Strange he didn't remember that.
Remy hesitated. For a moment he seemed uncertain. Then he placed the cover back over the serving dish and sat back, chuckling. "Oui. But I don't recall you ever telling me you liked my cooking. I t'ought it was some stoic fearless leader act. Boost de morale or somet'ing. Or maybe Jean made you eat it." He winked at me and I couldn't help but give him a weak smile.
"No. I really liked some of it." I told him honestly.
"Good. Your baby brot'er don' like it much. Strictly Midwestern meat n' potatoes, dat homme."
I laughed, surprisingly good naturedly. "That's Alex for you. Always was a picky eater."
Remy's look became devious. "Oui. But he ate every bite, like a good little boy."
I looked away as my ire rose, biting back the retort. Was Remy trying to push my buttons? Did he want to hit me again? Or was he just testing me, seeing if I would push back?
"M'chef is excellent." He continued, his tone once again friendly. "But I tol' him not to make de meal so spicy. I didn't t'ink your stomach would be able to take it."
My eyes shot up at him, surprised. He was concerned? I somehow found that hard to believe, even after all that had happened. I guess I just figured he'd use that empathetic power for his own agenda, to make me believe he cared, while in truth he was just being selfish. But now he'd consciously made decisions that would effect my comfort. I shook my head for a moment. Did he really care about me? And could I use this for my advantage? I tucked this thought back in the corner of my mind for later examination.
"Crawfish boulette." Remy was saying. He held what looked to be a meatball in his hand, dripping with a light brown sauce. I could feel my mouth start to water as he popped it into his mouth. "No' to spicy." He said after he swallowed it down. Then he picked up another and held it front of me. My lips parted slightly as I looked at it like it was the answer to all my prayers. I lusted for that morsel. Smiling, Remy touched it to my lips. "Cher?" I closed my eyes and opened my mouth wider. Like a priest bestowing communion, Remy placed it on my tongue, his fingers brushing across the tastebuds lightly to tease my senses, then he drew back to let me eat. My stomach rumbled appreciatively as I sank my teeth into the delicacy. It nearly melted under the heat of my breath, it was that tender. And so very tasty. Salty with a sharp tang. I swallowed it quickly and then sat quiet, suddenly afraid that I'd eaten it too fast. I waited, nervous that my stomach would give. But it only rolled a little and no waves of nausea crashed over me.
Then a sharp pang of hunger hit me and I looked up at Remy, my eyes beseeching him. It was all I could do not to beg for more. He was still smiling. "Good?"
"Yeah." I breathed. "Give my compliments to your chef." He snorted with laughter and picked up another boulette. His fingers cupped the sauce as he lifted the tidbit and he held his other hand under it to collect the sauce that dripped from it. This time, when he placed the morsel on my tongue, he kept his fingers between my lips, running them over my teeth and gums as I chewed. When I had swallowed, he said, "Try de sauce. C'est bon."
Somewhat reluctantly I let his fingers slip in between my teeth and licked at the juice. But one taste was all I needed before I was sucking pleasantly on the proferred flesh. After I'd finished, he placed his other hand over my mouth and let the juice it held drip down onto my tongue. And again I reached up to lick his hand clean. As I finished and Remy's hand moved back up to the table, Alex's words came back to me from a week ago, *You'll be eating out of his hand by the end of the week.* I grimaced at the thought. Damn him. Him and Alex.
A rich creamy smell assaulted my nose and I blinked from my anger to see a spoon being held in front of me. "Oyster and artichoke soup, mon ami. One of m'favorites. Served in de finest resturants in New Orleans." My ire vanished under the scent and I sipped from the spoon then slurped it down. A tiny dribble ran down my chin, but before I could wipe it off, Remy was there, kissing it away and sending my blood straight down to my groin. Sensing the arousal, he let his lips move up and over mine. His tongue slipped in almost without my knowledge until I felt him tasting the thick broth in my mouth. I suckled his tongue and hummed delightfully as the tangy flavor of the meatball he'd eaten mixed with the rich soup, bursting on my tastebuds.
Remy pulled away without warning causing my teeth to knock. He sat up looking at me, his expression unreadable. I almost groaned at the abrupt departure. Then he shook his head, "Non." He said this mostly to himself, his face softening as he gazed at me. "Do dat again and I'll take you right here, mon amour." Exhaling with a slight tremor to his voice he added, "You wouldn't want dis food to go to waste now, would you?"
I shook my head slowly and he nodded. Then he turned back to the table and reached for the bottle of wine. "Gaja Boralo Sperss." Remy seemed to want to tell me exactly what he was feeding me. Perhaps to impress, though I wouldn't have really known the expense of the food. "De word Sperss means 'profound longing'. I find dat moving for some reason. And de wine itself is fantastique. Got dis bottle jus' for you, cher. Very rare."
I smiled up at him then and said, "Only one bottle?"
Remy caught my meaning and smiled back, enjoying the joke. "I'm not taking de chance of you getting drunk, hein. I know your head for alcohol. You don' 'ave one."
This was true. I never drank much. Not even wine. Consquently, whenever I did have alcohol it didn't take long for me to get drunk. It was a standing joke at every Christmas to try and keep me from the eggnog, a minor weakness of mine. I'd usually have two or three glasses and then get all sentimental. Made most of the other X-men uncomfortable. Especially Logan, because it was usually him I cornered in my tipsy state, asking him why we couldn't just get along and why he was so angry all the time and didn't he think Jean was just gorgeous tonight. Fortunately for me, he took it in stride until Jean came to the rescue by dragging me away, chiding me for drinking more than I should. And then I'd wake up the next morning with a raging hangover and so embarassed I'd just hide in my room until Jean dragged me out. All from just a few drinks.
"And I'm not gonna let you miss a minute of dis night." Remy was saying with mischievious grin. I glowered at him, making him chuckle. "Can't get out of it dat easy, cher."
He popped the cork and poured a cup, setting it to my lips. "Jus' a sip, petit." But before he could react I grabbed his hands and gulped the liquid down. It burned as it hit my throat, but I didn't care. Numb would be good. A hangover would be fantastic, if I just didn't have to feel him fuck me, knowing, though trying hard not to admit, that I was more than likely going to enjoy it.
Remy pulled the goblet roughly from my mouth with a snarl. "I tol' you non!" Drops of wine splashed across my chest and his legs, before he steadied the cup. He slammed it down on the table, causing more to splash over the surface, dripping to the floor. Without thinking I lapped at the fluid as it ran down. But then he pushed me back and lifted his hand as if to strike me. I flinched, gritting my teeth, and waited for the blow. It didn't come. And he was laughing. I scowled at him. His face came down, inches from mine. "You don' know how silly you looked just then. And now wit' de wine drops all over your face. Not de fearless leader we all know an' love." I blushed in anger as he kissed away the droplets, letting the tip of his tongue run across my cheeks, then eyes, then nose.
I turned my head away, irritated. "Stop it."
"Oh. Not so eager for me as for de wine, eh?" Remy sat back with a smirk. "You stickin' to water now." He added in a mildly dangerous tone. I just looked at him. Drunk would have been wonderful, but water would certainly be more quenching. I wouldn't argue.
Taking a napkin from the table, Remy wiped the rest of the wine up from his legs and the surface of the table. Then he threw it at me. "Wipe dat off your chest." He muttered a Cajun curse as he sat back up and poured a glass of water.
He was annoyed now. I couldn't be completely certain, but I had my suspicions that the irritation came from the idea that I would rather be drunk when we fucked. After the scene in the bathroom, the way he'd made me feel, I suppose he thought I was eager for it, willing. Now he knew that I wasn't and it grated on his ego. He wouldn't say much now. Just told me what we were eating and fed me bit by bit, not seeming to take as much pleasure from it as he had from the start.
Despite his mood and his constant spooning of food into my mouth, I relished the meal. After we'd finished the soup, he fed me several more of the meatballs. Only once did he let his fingers linger in between my lips, and only for a moment. We ate Boudin blanc, a hot spicy pork dish, and okra and tomatoes for the main course. Remy ate most of the Boudin, his favorite. I almost had to ask him for a bite, he seemed to want it all for himself. And when I touched his thigh he nearly jumped. When he looked down at me his mood seemed to lighten just a little. But realizing what I wanted his eyes went cold again. However, he gave me some more of the delicious entree, so I didn't care much that he was still vexed by my subtle resistance. If he was mad because I wasn't going to fall madly into his arms and declare him my life and my master, it was his own damn fault for trying to keep me as a slave. As long as he fed me, I could care less how he felt. I almost laughed at the idea that I'd hurt his feelings.
After the main course, he served me gateau sirop, a type of cake with cane syrup that tasted mostly of ginger. As a compliment to the spicy pork and salty vegetables it was absolute heaven. And I said so. Remy chuckled and gave me more. By this time my legs had become numb from sitting for so long on my knees, and seeing him in a more tolerant mood I asked if I could shift positions. He waved his hand at me as he dug into the dessert, enjoying it immensely himself. I moved to straighten my legs out to the side, working out the pins and needles with my fingers. Looking down, I realized the cock ring wasn't on. I don't know why that struck me funny. Perhaps because it had been my constant companion for the entire week. But I looked back up at Remy with a spark of gratitude. Noticing my stare, he glanced down at me. Then he looked closer, not really certain what he was seeing. Crooking a finger under my chin, he lifted it to get a better look. As I parted my lips unconsciously he dove in to capture them, taking me passionately and with a bruising force. My head swam at the emotions. Remy had felt my gratitude and he'd warmed to it. That need for some kind of positive feeling from me was strong.
There was a knock at the door.


Chapter Eighteen

Remy drew back with a growl. "Come!" He barked. The door opened and a guard stepped in. "Pardon M'lord, but Councillor Escalada wishes to speak with you. He insists his business is urgent."
I looked from the guard to Remy, watching a black look cross his features and then vanish just as quickly. "Show him in." He ordered with a dismissive wave.
As the guard shut the door quietly to go escort the Councillor in, Remy threw his napkin onto the table muttering something under his breath. I continued to watch him, curious. He seemed to have forgotten me for the moment as he rose from the table, tying his robe tighter around his waist. Now he was Remy Lebeau, patriarch and politician. A seriousness had descended on his face.
There was a brief staccato rap at the door, then a tall, proud man entered as Remy crossed the room. "Frederico!" He cried, clasping the man on the shoulders and pulling him into a warm embrace. The Councillor returned his affection stiffly, appearing only to suffer the embrace has his duty required. Then he stepped back with a thin smile.
Councillor Frederico Escalada was a broad shouldered powerfully built man in his 40's, bald with a thin raven mustache. His lips were as thin as the mustache and his chin was sharply angled and lifted in mild distain. He had dark eyes set deep in his head, giving him a sinister look. His nose was aristocratic and slender. Olive complected, he wore a stark white jacket and pants, reminiscent of military, but with no trimming or insignia to signify his rank. It seemed to deepen the color of his skin, giving him a darker look that intimidated. The way he carried himself with a haughtiness that showed only a cursory respect for Remy's office magnified that intimidation.
When he spoke, his voice was low but commanding, easily carrying out over the room. "I am sorry to disturb you at this late hour M'lord." His tone said otherwise. "But I've been with Ambassador Moliere for nearly the entire day. He and his advisors insist that you have an answer for him in the morning."
"De Marcuso treaty?" Remy inquired.
The Coucillor nodded. "I have tried to explain to them that you have been out of the country this past week. But they clearly do not care."
With his back to me, I couldn't see Remy's face. But the way he straightened as if to tower over the slightly taller man reflected his anger at Moliere's audacity. "Dey have little right to insist on m'immediate attention in this matter. And little less to negotiate wit'. Tell Moliere dat I will have an answer by tomorrow evening at de earliest. If he's not satisfied by dat, den he may leave and we'll negotiate later on de battlefield. Dey can take deir chances wit' my men already stationed in deir country."
One corner of Escalada's mouth twitched upward. "Very good, M'lord. This ambassador seems to think above his station. Perhaps a threat backed up by force is the only way to handle him and his people."
"D'ccord." Remy put his hand out to receive the papers Escalada held. "I'll look dese over tonight." He sighed. "I'd rather not go to war over a few trifling demands dey might make. Hopefully somet'ing can be arranged."
The Councillor brightened and something of a genuine smile grew on his face and in his eyes. "You know you have the full backing of the Council on anything you decide."
"I know, Frederico. And I t'ank you for dat. I'll have dese read by de afternoon."
Escalada placed a supportive hand on Remy's shoulder. "Don't tire yourself M'lord. You've had a long week. With the Vincenti giving you trouble, you've probably had little rest." Strange to see this man grin, but suddenly he did. "And with your ridiculous rule of taking no slaves with you on your trips, no one to warm your bed and relieve the stress. I wouldn't expect the Vincenti's to offer a pleasure slave."
I heard Remy snort as I listened intently to their conversation. I kept my head bowed submissively, all the while locking into my memory the information they gave out freely. Moliere, Marcuso treaty, Vincenti, Frederico Escalada, the council. All this knowledge might be put to use at some later date.
Out of my periphery I saw Remy turn a little toward me smiling. "Dis is true. But I've had good reason not to take a slave wit' me dis time."
The Councillor turned a piercing eye in my direction, noticing me for the first time. He arched an eyebrow. "Ah. The rumors are true." He affirmed. "The brother?"
Remy nodded. "I wanted to keep him to m'self a bit longer before the courtiers began pleading for a look."
"Well then, I am truly sorry for disturbing you." I could feel his curious hard gaze on me. An embarrassing flush crept up my skin when he asked, "Is he a virgin?"
Remy clucked and shook a finger at the man's directness. All the same he smiled saying, "Oui. He's been in training for de week. Made it difficult doing business wit' de Vincenti's knowing all de while he was here being prepared for me. But den anticipation is half de fun, non?"
The Councillor laughed. "You have the patience of a saint M'lord." He made a curt gesture in my direction with his hand. "May I?"
Remy stepped back and turned waving his own hand. "But of course, mon ami. Den you can explain to de ot'er councillors why I won' be in attendance dis week." Escalada snorted and the two men walked toward me.
"Stand up, Scott." My master ordered.
I rose stifly to my feet. The sharp sting of pain from kneeling in one position for so long had hardly begun to lessen in intensity. I curled my toes gingerly into the rug and looked at the two men warily. They had stopped just at the end of the couch.
"Come over here, petit." Remy crooked a finger at me.
With a great deal of trepidation and discomfort from my needling calves, I made my way slowly around the couch to the two men. Councillor Escalada's question left me apprehensive. What was Remy giving permission for? Was I expect to pleasure this man in some way?
As I stood there waiting and wondering in a stony silence, Escalada placed an appraising hand on my left arm saying, "Ah, he's fine, Remy. A real piece of work." He held my gaze as if looking for something. "And still not quite tamed. Make sure you don't break all the wildness out of him."
Remy stood to my right smiling with pride. He raised a hand and place a finger between my shoulder blades, letting it drift leisurely down my spine. "Of course not. I appreciate a little spirit." My lips curled slightly in anger and humiliation. They were discussing me like an animal. I was disgusted by their talk. And slightly aroused, which further intensified my rage. I wanted to lash out, but with Remy and the guards so near I'd probably just get Alex punished for my outburst. So instead I drew inward, trying to ignore them. My eyes moved upward and to the left to look over the Councillor's shoulder, focusing on the door.
"You have a keen eye." He praised as his left hand came up to stroke my cheek and push a lock of hair out of my eye. He did not mention the fact that I looked away and not down submissively as I most likely was suppose to do. But then he liked the 'wildness' in me.
I twitched a bit under Escalada's touch. His hand ran along my jaw and then he placed his thumb between my lips to tease my bottom lip down. Immediately, I ground my teeth together as he stepped closer and turned my furious eyes back on him. I wasn't going to suck his fingers, no matter what.
But his fingers only pried open my lips, checking the teeth and gums, assessing me with a trained eye as one would examine a stallion he intended to purchase. When he was satisfied by what he'd seen he dropped his hand to my shoulder feeling the muscle and bone structure. I was sorely tempted to step back from this demeaning inspection, but Remy had placed a warning hand at the curve of my spine.
I endured his kneading and fondling as stoically as I could. My eyes blazed in anger, but I tried to keep my face passive and my hands loose at my sides. It was all I could do not to violently push him away from me. I wanted to take a swing at him and nearly did when he lifted my cock for closer examination. Instead I jumped, falling back against Remy's steadying hand.
Escalada had been speaking to Remy as he fondled me, pinching my nipples to harden them, running a finger around my navel, raking his nails through the hair at my groin. Concentrating so hard on not lashing out, I didn't hear what he'd been saying. But as he stroked me erect I looked into his cruel eyes and his words jolted me.
"Good stock. Very responsive." I snarled. For a moment he mocked me with his look. But then he turned his gaze on my hardening shaft. One hand ran up and down along the sensitive underside, while his other hand grasped my ball sack, massaging the testicles gently between his fingers. I could feel the embarrassing flush of humiliation and arousal further reddening my face. "You really should breed him, M'lord. His children would fetch an excellent price on the market."
Escalada looked over my shoulder at Remy as his hand continued caressing me. As much as I tried to ignore the sensations, my body responded to his touch. I was very close to climaxing.
"You know my interest in breeding. I can see he'd make a marvelous stud. It's my talent. I have an eye for these things. I've produced many excellent slaves at my ranch."
"I've considered it, mon ami." Remy said thoughtfully. I gasped from the warmth of his breath on my ear. I hadn't realized he'd come so near. My hips involuntarily began to thrust as the councillor now fisted my prick. But as a small drop of pre-cum oozed from the head of my angry swollen cock, Escalada pinched hard on a spot just below my sack. I cursed and pulled away ignoring Remy's hand. Before I could get further back, however, Remy grabbed my arm, digging his fingers painfully into my flesh to hold me in place. The councillor chuckled.
"Very responsive."
Remy smiled. "If you ever wish to breed him," Escalada continued arrogantly, "let me know. I have several mares that I'm certain would take to him. Their pedigree is impeccable."
Nodding to the councillor and releasing his grip on my arm, Remy said, "I'll be certain to seek your advice should I ever decide to breed him or his brot'er."
"Ah yes. The blond." Escalada replied. "How could I forget him. He's quite striking. But then I prefer blonds."
Remy laughed. "How I remember, Frederico." He took the Councillor's arm then, guiding him to the door. "But I'm not ready to share my brot'ers right now. I've yet to fully enjoy Scott." I'd stepped back toward the end of the couch when he said this. Looking up at the back of his head I threw him a furious look. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to go over de documents in private."
"Certainly M'lord." Escalada gave a quick leering glance in my direction before bidding Remy goodnight and stepping out into the hallway. I breathed a quick angry sigh of relief as the door shut.


Chapter Nineteen

When Remy turned to look at me the rage I had felt at the whole humiliating examination hit me like a kick to the gut. "Dammit, Remy! I will NOT be a stud!"
"You'll be whatever I want you to be, pet." He replied with a menacing calm.
I scowled at him. "Well why don't you just kidnap Jean then." I quipped. "A lot of people seem to think we'd have genetically perfect kids."
"Don' tempt me." Remy came toward me almost warily. I felt a tightness in my chest and a churn of fear in my belly when he said those words. Yet I pushed back at him, still furious at the whole miserable incident.
"Christ!" I spat at him. "You're as bad as Sinister!" One look at Remy's face as he stopped dead in his tracks told me I'd just gone over the line. His eyes began to glow. When he spoke, his tone was low and his words concise and controlled. A shiver snaked up my spine and I felt a warmth underneath the collar around my neck.
"Never compare me to dat madman." Was the collar growing hotter? I reached up to touch it and yanked my fingers back immediately with a supressed yelp. The collar burned with kinetic power. Remy had charged the device. It was a timebomb. If Remy let it explode it'd crush my throat and decapitate me. Fear gripped me further in the immediacy of the situation.
"No." I whispered in terror.
"I've allowed you too much leniency, Scott. And you've wounded me, cher." He came closer. "P'etetre I made a mistake wit' you. P'etetre you can't be tamed."
I stared at him in fear. The heat intensified and I began to feel pain. And the pain created a blazing defiance. Fear turned to anger and hatred. I wasn't going to back down on this. I wouldn't be bred out like a prized stud. Sinister had done that to me once without my knowledge. And Maddie had been his brood mare. My son had been lost to time because of madmen. I would not, could not allow Remy to use me in this way and to lose what children I sired to slavery.
"You're right Remy." I threw the name out deliberately this time with a reckless rebelliousness to push him even further. " I won't be tamed! Do it! If you have the balls!"
"Amende alors." Remy smiled maliciously. "Is dere a final message you'd like me to give to Alex, me?"
The room grew deathly still as we looked at one another. I could feel a prickly itch begin to rise on my throat. My fists were clenched tight. Everything seemed to hinge on this moment. And I was caught in a very deadly showdown. Was Remy bluffing? Should I...Could I call his bluff?
But Alex. Damn Alex. I turned my anger on my brother. I couldn't die like this. Not after I'd yelled at him for wanting to die. Not after I'd promised him we'd get through this together. Damn him.
I closed my eyes tightly feeling the slow smoldering intensity of the burn from the collar. "Okay." I breathed swallowing every ounce of pride and defiance I had left. No. Suddenly my mind screamed. Not even for Alex! No child of mine would be lost to this sick, twisted world. No child of mine would ever be born here. Not even for my brother. I lifted my chin in fury. "Tell Alex 'not even for him'. He'll understand."
I saw it for only an instant. Remy faultered. There was surprise and a spark of anxiety in his eyes for a fleeting moment. Then it vanished in the wake of a devious smile. "Scott, mon cher, how could I ever share you wit' anyone." His voice was sickly sweet. I could here the menace underneath. "You really t'ink I'd give you to Frederico for breeding? I despise dat man and his 'ranch'. It's one t'ing to bring an adult, wit' all dier sins, into slavery. It's another to raise a petit into dat life. I don' breed m'slaves." His fingers curled ever so slightly and I had to believe he was lying. He was trying to find a way out of his bluff that would allow me to live without letting me gain some power in the knowing that he didn't want me dead. "But someone needs to be punished for your insolence, hein. Perhaps I bring your brot'er up and punish him in your place."
Shit. I could see he meant that. I'd called his bluff on killing me. But that didn't mean he wouldn't hurt Alex. I began to doubt what I'd believed. Perhaps Remy wouldn't breed me. Perhaps he did think it was wrong. He had some moral sense. I'd seen that earlier. And if he was going to back down from killing me, there was no sense in letting Alex take the blame for my outburst. The talk of breeding and selling children into slavery still wrankled, but perhaps Remy and I could come to a negotiation of sorts.
"Okay." I said. "Leave Alex out of this. I shouldn't have said what I did. But I'll take my own life before I become your stud." That set him off guard for a moment.
"I tol' you de breeding is distastful to me, cher. I don' care what your children be wort'. I won' 'ave you sire dem into slavery." He narrowed his eyes, giving me a hard look. "But your tongue is anot'er story. I won' 'ave you backtalking me. Dat can' go ignored."
I breathed a bit easier. Remy sounded sincere. The threat of taking my life seemed to set him back a pace. He'd think twice about breeding me. But now I needed to get his mind off Alex. "I'm sorry." I began. "I was out of line. I can see you're not at all like Sinister." He glared at me, reading the sarcasm in my tone despite all my efforts to keep my voice even. I rushed on to stop him from lashing out. "I was caught in the moment. You have to understand that after being used by Sinister to father Nathan, I have an aversion to the idea of being bred like some prize stallion."
"D'ccord." Remy conceded. But the collar continued to burn around my neck.
"I'm sorry." I said again. "Please forgive my outburst." I tried to force as much repentence in my look as I could.
"Oh, mon cher, you're going to 'ave to do a whole lot better dan dat." Remy took a step toward me as he placed the papers in his hand on the back of the couch. His head was bowed slightly, his eyes turned up, and lips curled in a lethal smirk. The collar still glowed with his power. I stood very, very still watching him, waiting for him to explain, to instruct. But he only gazed back, expecting me to figure it all out on my own. My mind reeled for several moments. And then I did what I hoped would sooth his anger and stroke his ego. I stepped toward him saying, "Master, forgive me." Then I pressed my lips to him with as much tenderness as I could muster.
Remy remained stiff and unswerving. His hands hung at his sides refusing to touch me. I could feel his jaw tense. He kept his lips tightly closed. I'd have put some serious effort into my apology to convince him of my sincerity. Or at least convince him that I'd be an obediant slave and keep Alex out of trouble.
Since he wouldn't open his mouth, I glided my lips down along his jawline to loosen the tension there. My hands went to his hips to pull him in close, our cocks nestled side by side with only the thin silky fabric of his robe as a barrier. Remy said nothing, which encouraged me. At least he wasn't talking of further punishment. But he wouldn't move much either. I could feel a tickle at the back of my neck and knew it was his empathetic power assessing my honesty. At least he could feel my desire. Though I'd tried to fight it, I couldn't deny it. And so I gave in to it and let him feel how my body wanted him. It certainly wasn't love, but I hoped it would be enough to convince him I'd behave. I let the sensation flow outward as my tongue worked its way to the hollow of Remy's throat. My left hand slid around to grab his ass as the fingers of my right hand ran lightly up his spine to caress the back of his neck.
I held back a smile when I felt him quiver and right after draw the kinetic power back into himself. Inwardly I breathed a sigh of relief, but knew I couldn't stop. Nor did I really want to, now that my need had been let loose. My prick was coming back to life.
Bending my head down, I nudged the robe aside and took one of his nipples gently between my teeth, touching it with the tip of my tongue. Remy latched onto my shoulders with a crushing grip and a hiss. "Mais oui." He murmured. But then he pushed me away.
"I should 'ave you whipped, petit morue." He growled. But there was hint of amusement in his tone.
I gave him a mischievious grin. "But Master, you wouldn't want to scar me, would you?"
Remy caressed my cheek saying, "There are ways to have you beaten dat leave no permanent mark, cher."
It was my turn to shiver. "Would you like to experience dat, petit?" He continued deadly serious. "To be whipped until de adrenalin kicks in an you can' tell de difference 'tween pleasure and pain. I don' do it dat often, and never to my newest slaves. But perhaps in your case I might make an exception. You're trying my patience, hein."
This silenced me completely and I dropped my head in defeat. I'd been beaten before. At the orphanage. And the humiliation of the act resurfaced in me. The pain wasn't the worst part of being tied down and paddled until I couldn't sit for a week. It was the loss of dignity and the loss of control. Remy could bring back all those childhood fears in me and reduce me to a whimpering idiot begging for him to stop. I didn't think I could stand that.
He lifted my chin, ordering me to look at him. The hopelessnesss was evident there in my eyes. I couldn't hold it back. But he let fall the final blow, branding the anguish on my being as he said, "I can always do dat, Scott. I can take you to the depths of hell if I wan'. Dere's no escape."
Remy searched my eyes adding cruelly. "And I can 'ave your brot'er punished right dere in front of you, begging for you to tell him why he's being flogged."
I closed my eyes. One tear escaped and trickled down my cheek. Remy wiped it tenderly away saying, "Is dat what you want, cher? Is it too painful to respect me and obey me dat you'd endure punishment and take your brot'er wit' you?"
I shook my head.
"Bien." Remy nodded, retrieving the documents and moving around me. "Den we'll 'ave no more of your defiance, me. You know de price. And I can always make you pay, mon cher."
He walked around to the couch, ignoring me for the moment and settled in a corner of the U-shape, extending his legs casually upon the seat as he began to finger through the papers. I stood there uncertainly, wondering what I should do now. Hoping he'd tell me what to do. But he kept on skimming the contents of the treaty.
I started when without warning he yelled for the guard. One immediately stepped in. "M'lord?"
Without looking up, Remy said, "Get Peter to take de table away and bring me a pot of Cafe Brulet. As strong as he can make it."
The guard nodded and stepped back out closing the door. I looked over at the table a bit longingly and then back at Remy. I squeezed my fists anxiously. He still refused to acknowledge me and I wasn't sure if I should approach him. I continued to stare at him.
Finally, as if he suddenly realized I was behind him, he looked around at me, his red eyes still glowing. "Mais, come here pet." His tone was chiding, insinuating that I was a fool for not knowing I was to come to him. I followed his path around the couch and stood in front of him. "Sit." He said patting the area next to him. Nervously I sat down, my hands digging into the edge of the couch.
"Merde!" Remy sighed. "Must I tell you everyt'ing? Lay down and put your head in my lap."
Gingerly I did as I was told, resting my head over his lap. Remy wasn't quite aroused, thankfully, and I relaxed a bit stretching my legs out and resting my hands on my stomach, butterflys churning inside. I closed my eyes and swallowed.
"Comfortable, mon amour?" I looked up to see him gazing down at me, his face unreadable. I nodded despite my unease. I wasn't sure what he was about now and that worried me. He smiled slightly and went back to reading the page he was on. I watched him, still uncertain. Then I closed my eyes. Whatever was going to happen, I couldn't prevent. So I decided I might as well enjoy this luxury of doing nothing. After a moment, Remy's hand began to stroke my hair. Then he moved it to my chest, idly running his fingers across my skin, plucking at the nipples every once in awhile. My whole body shook when he first touched me, but then I settled into the caress, breathing deep. Soon my head lolled to the side and I dozed.
When I woke, Remy was still perusing the documents and drinking from a bone china cup. There was a tall silver kettle sitting on the coffee table, next to a china milk container and sugar bowl. Remy felt me stir and looked down. "Did you 'ave a nice nap, mon couer?" He asked pleasantly.
"Yes." I replied, adding somewhat shyly, "Thank you."
He smiled affectionately and nodded. Then he sat up, wordlessly telling me to move, and placed his feet on the floor. I sat up beside him as he put the cup and papers down on the table. He stretched his shoulders and neck, popping the tension away and then leaned in to kiss me. It was soft and chaste. And set my heart to beat more rapidly. Then pinching his nose with his thumb and forefinger, he stood up.
"Come on, petit. Time for bed."


Chapter Twenty

Unenthusiastic and tense, I followed Remy over toward the bed. He stopped briefly by the door to turn off the overhead lights, leaving the room in a soft glow from the burning candles along the walls and the dying fire in the hearth. Motioning me over to the bed, he crossed to the window and pulled the curtains, closing out the city. Then he turned to look at me with an alluring smile and dropped his robe from his shoulders. I'd trudged over to stand by the side of the bed near one of the posts at the end, waiting and shifting nervously from foot to foot. I expected him to come to me then as he disrobed, throwing the garment on one of the chairs he sauntered by. Instead, he went around me, brushing me lightly on the hip with his fingers to send a shiver through my body. He stood at the foot of the bed for half a second before leaping into the air with a childish glee, swan-diving into the soft down.
"La vie est bonne!" Remy cried as he landed, the end of the sentence muffled in the mattress.
I had to laugh as he lay spread eagle, face down on the bed for several minutes. Finally he tucked an arm under his head and looked back at me with a ravishing heavy-lidded gaze. He raised his other hand to tap a small drawer fixed in the headboard.
"Dere's some oil in dere." Remy said in a husky voice. "I wan' you to massage my back. Get de tension out. Been a long day, me."
My lips twitched up into a small satisfied smile trying not to give to much away as I jumped at the chance to lull Remy to sleep, putting minutes, perhaps hours, between the inevitable. Alex had spent the better part of a day instructing me on basic and sensual massage. He'd been very complimentary of my touch. And had expressed surprise to find me a natural masseuse. But if he'd talked to Jean he would have known I was good at it. I use to rub her back often. We'd even read a few books on the subject. My typical determination to be the best had made me a quick learner. And inspite of my uptight manner in public, I did have a sensitive side. I just never thought I'd ever have to expose it to Remy Lebeau.
I still needed a good bit of instruction, Alex had said. It would be one of my duties, he'd explained. But I'd been able to put my brother to sleep for several hours. Of course there was no telling how Remy would react.
Climbing onto the bed, I straddled Remy's hips and reached over his shoulder to get the bottle of oil from the drawer. Splashing a few drops onto my hands I worked the liquid between my palms to warm it. The scent was light, a mixture of cinnamon and spice that tingled in my nostrils, reminding me of Christmas. It complimented the rich texture of fabrics on the bed and the soft warm atmosphere of the room. A picture of Jean and me snuggling in front of the fireplace in the house we lived in during our time in Alaska crept into my mind. Snowbound and happy to be alone with just one another, we were semi-retired and far away from the often tense, sometimes tedious world of mutant activity. We felt almost normal. Human.
I shook the image away almost violently. I would not think of Jean on this night. I would NOT think of Jean, I swore inwardly. I would not taint my image of her with the reality of my existence at this moment. Finally believing I'd been able to banish thoughts of her from my mind, I began to spread the oil evenly across Remy's pale smooth back. He wiggled appreciatively and stretched like a cat. Then he settled into the soft mattress, head on his crossed arms, sighing blissfully. My touch was efficient and solid. First, soft downward strokes to establish calm. Next, I kneaded his tense shoulders, digging the tips of my fingers into the hollows, working the oil into his pores to loosen the flesh. As I leaned forward, I listened to his breathing slow as he let out a contented exhale with a quiet murmur.
Running two fingers down either side of his spine, I reached the small of his back, satisfied to feel the muscles twitch between my caress. Using my thumbs, I drove them in a circular manner up his spine, slowly, pressing on each vertebrae one at a time. His muscles continued to quiver for a few seconds until they calmed under my touch. My inward smile grew, but I kept my facial expression neutral in case he should look up. I was fairly certain he was falling asleep. I couldn't have been more wrong. I'd underestimated him once. Stupid of me to do it again. Perhaps a week without honing my combat skills in the Danger Room was weakening my ability to analyze a situation or read people. Perhaps I wasn't thinking quite clearly, being barraged on all sides by different levels of pleasure and pain. It was so new for me, all this focus on sensuality. It was draining in ways I didn't expect.
For a long while the only sound in the room was the crackle of the fire and the occasional snap of wax from the candles. Remy seemed to relax completely under my touch. I could have sworn I heard him snore. But in my uncertainty, I kept kneading and smoothing out the tension of his back. My fingers stroked down his side without response. Either he was asleep or just not ticklish at that spot.
Without warning he flipped under me as I slid down his thighs, reaching his soft tight rump with my hands. Our cocks jostled together, one on top the other. For a moment I stared at our nestling flesh, mine rolling gently to the side. Then I glanced back up at Remy. His eyes were barely open, slits of glowing red that gave him a sinister look. His lips were raised in a half smirk bordering on deviousness. He'd put his hands behind his head in a lazy gesture, so different from the calculating look he gave me. It was maddening. And disconcerting. And oh so erotic. I shut my eyes tightly to break the spell he was weaving. None of that blissful warmth radiated through me. He was keeping his power in check. But the intensity of his eyes drew me in, tempting me to lose myself in the heady seduction of his being. It could have been so easy to give in to him. He was winning the war with every minute he was near me, with every command he gave me, every soft touch, every kind word, every smoldering look. I was so tired of fighting. So tired of denying the feelings within, the desire I wanted so much to ignore.
When I opened my eyes again, the glow was gone, shut away beneath his lashes. But the smile remained, only softer now, more inviting. I shifted my hips and leaned over him, thinking to massage his torso. But with an unbelievable speed Remy had my forearms trapped in his fists. Suddenly I was underneath him, my head swimming in confusion and astonishment.
He held my arms firmly on the mattress murmuring for me to hold still. There was hardly any need to say this. I was nearly paralyzed by thoughts of what was coming. He bent down to nuzzle the side of my neck, the prickly shadow of hair tickling my flesh. I almost laughed. He began nipping at my throat with his lips. Slithering down my body trailing kisses across my chest, he made his way toward my navel and further. Every touch of his mouth set my nerves on fire. I was sure that my skin would blister. Hot and then cold ran through my veins making me shiver and gasp for air, at once terrified and exhilarated.
When Remy kissed the tip of my shaft I could only let out a gurgle as it hardened and bobbed at the sensation, begging to sheath itself between his lips. But he came back up to claim my mouth instead, rubbing his body against mine in unabashed lust.
Remy's mouth locked to mine and he drove his tongue hard down into my throat sucking away the last of my ragged fearful breath. I writhed and struggled beneath him wanting to throw my arms around him and cling to him desperately, begging him to finish and begging him to stop. Emotion after emotion streamed through me: fury, lust, joy, sadness, despair, gratitude, guilt...love? The thought crept through my mind, sneaking into my consciousness and I began to fight Remy and to fight my betrayl of myself, trying to push him off, to escape that dominating kiss. It was a half-hearted struggle at best. The lust was more consuming. The desire more triumphant.
Sensing I was no longer moving beneath him in complete pleasure, Remy tore his lips away from mine. I began to pant, gulping in air with short, sharp inhalations. Tenderly, he brushed my eyes with his lips.
"Shh...hol' still, cher, hol' still." He looked into my eyes searchingly, holding my gaze. What he was looking for, I couldn't tell. Then he whispered, "Can' lie to you, Scott. Gonna hurt some." He lowered his weight onto me and turned his head, his warm breath brushing my ear as he murmured, "But when I'm t'rough wit' you, you're gonna wonder why you never done dis before. You're gonna beg me to do it again."
I shuddered violently as he lifted himself back off me. Reaching to the open drawer above my head, he pulled out a tube and sat back, spreading my legs to kneel between them. As I tried to sit up, tempted to fight him, Remy placed a warning hand on my belly, stroking his fingers lightly along the quivering ripples.
"I tol' you to hol' still." He growled. "Now you listen to your Maitre." Touching a finger to the back of my left leg, he ordered me to bend my legs up.
Without thinking, I did as he asked, my mind falling into a fog as he let just a tiny bit of his power run through me, quelling most of my will to fight, but leaving me fully aware of all that was happening. Such control he had. I couldn't help but be impressed. I looked down at him and he flashed a disarming smile, resting his hand possessively on my thigh.
Suddenly I drove my hips into the air away from him as I felt a finger prod my opening. Remy's hand tightened on my leg. "Lay down!" He snarled. Then he ran his hand up my thigh to cup my groin, his voice soft and encouraging, coaxing me back down. A cool moist finger ran along the crack of my ass gently with an easy calming stroke. Still, when it reached the entrance again, I clenched my muscles tightly, trying to keep it out.
Remy's other hand wrapped around the base of my cock, then, as he said, "Relax, mon cher. Let me in."
It was all I could do not to let him in. I exhaled long and low and he slipped inside with a smooth even caress to my prick. It burned a little going in as it met the friction of my sphincter. But the sensation cooled soon after. Remy let his finger sit there, allowing me to get use to the feeling as he lightly stroked my shaft. I was afraid to move, my breathing remained sharp and shallow, nostrils flaring slightly.
After a minute or two, Remy pushed in until he reached the last knuckle of his finger. Stroking the fleshy walls of my rectum, he sent shivers wracking up and down my spine. I trembled and groaned, my eyelids fluttering in the dim light. "Christ!" I rasped.
"S'okay. Just breat'." Came a whispered command, as his finger began to thrust in and out, slow and easy, carefully. Tears pricked my eyes as I realized he was taking me. This was it, this was all I had left and I was open to him now, vulnerable. I couldn't stop it, and as I took two long deep breaths and the sensation began to feel completely amazing, I knew I didn't want him to stop. And that tore at my heart even more. But very soon his finger began to fuck me harder as his other hand joined the rhythm and all thoughts fled my mind. I was only a physical being at that moment. I groaned in pleasure and was hardly aware when he added a second finger. Then I could feel him twisting and turning as he thrust, stretching my tight puckered opening. My body was relaxing and my hips began to rock trying to match his pace.
And then Remy was leaning over me, his tongue weaving a path up my stomach all the way to a nipple. He continued to enter me with his fingers, but his hand came away from my cock to support his weight above me as he sucked in the nub. Licking, then blowing on it drew a whimper from me and an exhaled curse, "Fuck!"
I felt a chuckle against my skin and thought I heard a "oui." Then his fingers came away and a cold rush of air blew against my ass. I opened my eyes wide, staring at the canopy above with my mouth open, my breath audible and my fingers clenching and unclenching against the sheets in a nervous jarring rhythm. Lowering my gaze I met Remy's eyes and he gave me another one of his gorgeous seductive smiles. He was on his knees between my legs leisurely fisting his cock with both hands. I caught my breath at the erotic picture he made and my erection twitched in an instinctive anticipation. His hands worked the hardening flesh, one over the other, stroking and teasing as his fingers swept off the tip to dive back down and grasp the base firmly. I could almost feel those same hands on my own swelling shaft. The reddening head of his penis glistened with the lube he'd use on his fingers as he stretched me. I could hardly breath as it hit me that he was preparing himself to penetrate me. I shut my eyes feeling my respirations quicken inspite of my efforts to slow them down.
I felt hands under my ass then. "Lift your hips, pet." Remy ordered gently. In my heightened, breathless state I raised up without hesitation and a thick sturdy pillow was placed under my rump. Then Remy stretched between my legs and I felt his cock press against my entrance, insistent.
I panicked. "No! Wait!" I gave a breathy yelp, bucking my hips against him. "Don't! Remy! I can't..."
He pulled himself further up my body and silenced my protests with a deep intoxicating kiss, bringing his slick erection back into place. Sucking my bottom lip between his teeth, he nibbled at it ardently for a long minute. Finally, he put his lips to my ear.
"Hush mon couer, mon amour. Just a little pain." He pushed in slowly meeting resistance. "Relax, cher."
"No!" I hissed, fear gripping me. Everything up until now had been like child's play. I was still my own person. But this act would change me. He was taking everything from me. I couldn't accept this. I was so afraid that I'd feel less than a man after he pierced me. I'd no longer be worthy of Jean. It was like mental castration for me. I didn't want this and I did. It was rape and yet I wasn't fighting hard enough to stop him. "No!" I said again, my voice stronger.
But again, a tiny spark of Remy's power surged through me. Just enough to open for him, not enough to lose myself, and the head of his penis slipped inside. I gasped at the searing pain that spread out across my ass. I wanted to pull away, but Remy's hands on my hips drove my shoulders into the mattress keeping me in place as he eased in further to impale me. Slow and steady, inch by burning inch he pressed inward. I bucked against him again, but my groin met the barrier of his abdomen, and I could not break away. Near to hyperventilating, fearful yet aroused, I pleaded for him to stop.
And then I felt his sack knock gently against my rear and he was all the way in, murmuring to me. "Dat's it, cher, it's in." He brushed my eyes gently with his lips, petting my hair and holding himself still inside me, letting me get use to the feeling of having him there, where he was so certain he belonged.
I could feel him throbbing in my body, gently rocking, and I knew he was using restraint. The pain was easing up and a warm tingle began crawling along my nerves. Remy whispered soft Cajun patois, gentle curses and encouragements, terms of endearments. His words were like a tender caress, soothing me and heating my veins as if warm whiskey ran through them. My mind was fogging over until the only thoughts I had were of moving to feel more of him.
"Mon Dieu, you're tighter dan your baby brot'er." I heard Remy say as I drove my hips into the pillow to pull back off his cock. He bent to suckle my neck, his teeth biting to bruise, to mark the other side, just below the collar. I exhaled and thrust back up causing him to curse against my skin. "Merde!"
Seeing I was relaxing, Remy pulled back slowly until the tip of his cock rested just inside the entrance. He kissed my mouth and went back in with one swift motion, driving his tongue deep into my throat. I groaned. "Oh God!" I rasped against the intrusion of his tongue. And when he broke away to place soft kisses along my jawline, "Master!" sprang from my lips without warning. He looked up catching my look with the warmest smile I'd ever seen him give and let go the full scope of his power.
It hit me so hard I lost my breath. I felt him enter me all the way, felt how tightly I clamped down on him in my fear and passion. It was like being two people at once with all the pain and all the ecstasy washing over me. He increased the pace, driving himself in and out with a quick fluid glide. And I began to meet him thrust for thrust, drowning in the emotions. Then Remy angled his cock inside me and my mind shattered into a thousand complicated sensations. My mouth worked incoherently. He rubbed against the gland again and again driving me between Heaven and Hell. Words finally came to me as I urged him to go in harder and deeper. Hearing this, he crushed his lips to mine with such force and eagerness I was sure he'd crack my teeth. But then he had my tongue sucked between his lips and began favoring my demands. I squirmed into a better position underneath him, lifted my legs to wrap my thighs firmly against his ribs and dug my heels into his ass to drive him in further.
But as he leaned over to drag his tongue across my nipple, my wife's name came from my lips in an unconscious rasp. Remy bit harshly into the nub when he heard this and he impaled me so hard I arched my back up digging my fingers into his arms. I felt as if he would tear the nipple from my chest, and yet it never lessened the pleasure of his assault on my ass. Instead, it only heightened my need.
"Jean's not here, homme." Remy hissed in my ear. "Jus' me, Remy Lebeau, your maitre. Fucking your ass!"
He rode me hard then, withdrawing a good portion of his charm to make me gasp and groan in some agony. But I was too close to climaxing to care, too lost in the pleasure to really feel the pain, opened wide to Remy. I took everything he gave and spurred him on to give me more. Soon, lost in the heat himself, Remy reached between our bodies, one hand placed firmly along side my chest to anchor himself above me, and grasped my cock, pulling at it almost painfully. He cursed at me, dared me to come for him and I did. Harder than I ever had before. I thought it would never end. But too soon, I was spasming violently under him in the last throes of passion, falling into the blissful afterglow.
My legs flopped onto the bed and I opened my eyes to see Remy reach his own climax, his hips slamming roughly down against my groin, his cock burying itself as far as it could go, his back arched above me on both arms planted next to either side of my chest, and his head thrown back in ecstasy. Remy's eyes were shut tight and lips parted slightly. He was murmuring, but I couldn't understand the words. Then I felt him shudder as the last of his seed drenched my insides.
And at that point he let me feel it all. Every sensation he was experiencing washed over me. So entranced by the feelings and enchanted by the way he looked, I stretched my fingers up to trace a line down his torso, whispering, "Remy...Master." It came so easily from my lips. It was so right in that moment that he owned me. And so terrifying. And so infuriating.
Remy gave a soft satisfied sigh and opened his eyes to look at me warmly. We gazed up at each other almost lovingly for a long moment and impulsively I reached up to twist a lock of his sweat-soaked hair around my finger. Turning his head quickly, he kissed the palm of my hand tenderly and lowered himself onto my body. He was weightless, comfortable, warm against me. Placing his arms under my shoulders to hold me tight, Remy rested his head on my chest. We remained that way for a long while, his cock still buried inside me. In the quiet of that hour, I wrapped my arms around him feeling something break within me. I knew this crush of my resistance would not last for long. But right then I gave up my precious control. I was no longer a leader. I was no longer in charge of my life. He had taken all that from me and while it still angered and terrified and saddened me, in those moments I'd never felt freer.
But then Remy shifted, coaxing me onto my side, pulling out of me. The connection broke. He slipped an arm underneath me and pulled me to his chest, spooning behind me, his limp prick nestled against my ass. One of his hands strayed down to my flaccid cock and he gave it an appreciative caress. Nuzzling the back of my neck he asked in a low voice, "Now do you understand, mon cher, dat I own you? Dat you're mine?"
I felt suddenly unmanned by his words. And yet they felt true. But out of fear and anger, I shook my head. "No. No one has the right to own anyone." My voice was firm when I said this and I sighed inwardly in relief at my control.
"Oh, but you're wrong, cher." Remy whispered back seductively. "And you know you're wrong. I own you. I've taken somet'in from you dat you never would have given willingly. Not de straight boy scout of the de X-men. From now on, you'll always know what I've taken from you. And you'll always know you're mine, petite."
With those words he shattered the link completely. I said nothing, to furious to talk, and Remy was content with my silence. "Been a long day, mon amour. Go to sleep." Very soon I felt his breath even, slow and deepen against my neck and knew he was asleep. Only then did I let my tears of anger and loss fall.


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