Summers In Slavery

BY: M (Lornadane@aol.com)

FANDOM: X-men

PAIRING: Remy Lebeau/Alex Summers/Scott Summers

RATING: NC-17

SUMMARY: In an Alternative Universe Remy Lebeau is Patriarch of a country that allows slavery, both manual and pleasure. He kidnaps Scott Summers after accidentally taking his brother, Alex Summers, finding he wants the two as his personal pleasure slaves. This story is told from Scott's perspective after being kidnapped and deals with his training at the hand of his brother, and his eventual succumbing to Remy's will.

WARNING: This story deals with incest, a very taboo subject. If you are uncomfortable in any way with this subject matter DO NOT read further. This story also involves Master/Slave, m/m, f/f, and bondage and has very explicit sex, including rape. If you do not like or are uncomfortable with any or all of this subject matter DO NOT read any further. If you are UNDER AGE in your area do not read any further. I do not believe this is appropriate reading material for children of any age.

This is pure fantasy. This would never or could never happen. I don't believe that any human should be forced to have sex or be a slave to another. And I don't agree with incest. In reality I find it repulsive.

However this is an Alex/Scott/Remy slash, and I just like these characters. The fact that Alex and Scott are brothers having sex would never be appealing to me in the real world. In fantasy, hey, I just think they're two gorgeous guys. Since this takes place in an Alternative Universe, I could have chosen to not make them brothers, but there was a kind of funny quote I wanted to
use. And of course I'm a sucker for angst and shock so what the heck.

Feedback, negative and positive, is always welcomed. Just don't slam me. If you don't like this story because of the topics say so. But give a reason for your criticism. Give a reason for any criticism. It helps the writer tremendously. Thanks.

DISCLAIMER: These are Marvels. Has my good friend Patch says, "I just make them do nasty and erotic things together." Don't sue. I have more debt than I'm worth. You won't make any money.

Summers in Slavery

By M

This is so wrong. So very, very wrong. But as I kneel before my brother, Alex, enthusiastically sucking his cock into my mouth, my own member twitches in painful reminder of how good it all feels. And tastes. My tongue darts up and down the length underneath and over the oh so sensitive flesh and then swirls around the rosy head, just as I've been trained. Just like Remy Lebeau likes it. Slowly, one inch at a time, I slurp it down. I've acquired quite a taste for cockflesh and cum. Of course a week with little water and Alex's seed as the only source of sustenance (chock full of protein, he reminds me often enough) will pretty much ensure a man acquire the taste fairly quickly. Even a man whose never taken another man's cock in his mouth before, let
alone swallowed sperm. The first time I nearly vomited, and the second up until the tenth or eleventh time. By then I was able to keep it down without retching. Of course I'd learned how to take his cock deep down into my throat without gagging, his balls banging gently against my chin. And so I never had to really taste the stuff.

But today is a little different. Today I'm actually enjoying it. I'm not exactly certain why at first, but as I eagerly lick the pre-cum all along his shaft and then swallow Alex's member with a tiny whimper, I see my Master out of the corner of my eye and it suddenly hits me why I'm so willing right now. Remy Lebeau's charm power. He's letting it wash over me. There's the familiar
warmth and the drowsiness I feel throughout my body, a sweet numbness of the mind that makes me consider things I never would have done before, like suck my brother off. I've felt it before when Remy lived at the mansion. Especially when he was drunk, or just outrageously flirting with me. I was able to resist it for the most part, and he never once sought to coerce me
with it there, in my own home. Too many people might have found out. They would have killed him. Or at least thrown him out. And I believed for the most part that he flirted with me just to shock me, make me blush. But now, as he told me a week ago, he owns me. He's in control. And free to do with me whatever he desires. And what he desires tonight is to take my virginity.

I've no doubt he knows I've never been with a man. Never had a cock deep inside my body. He's never even asked. Remy just assumed. And it's a correct assumption on his part. I was...I am a heterosexual in the purist sense. I've never wanted another man. Never found another man sexually attractive. My wife Jean is all I ever thought I'd really need. But he, he and Alex, are quickly breaking me down. Their making me want this, and I can't quite hate them for it.

It all started a week ago. Alex had gone missing again. I hadn't heard from him in several months, but the sad fact was I kind of took it for granted that he'd show up again. Just pop in one day. "Hi, bro. Was dead for a while, but I'm better now. Want to go get lunch?" It's happened so often I don't even blink when someone tells me he's disappeared. It's not that I don't look for him-I do-it's just that I don't look as hard as I should anymore. It's this terrible sense I've come to know as the Everything-will-turn-out-alright-in-the-end attitude. X-men die, they get better, they die again syndrome. Especially anyone related to the Summer's clan. But I should have know something was up when Pietro called from Genosha to say that Lorna had gone missing too. Ah well, hindsight's 20/20.

As I was saying though, it all started a week ago late at night while I was lying in bed with my wife fast asleep. Without warning two men attacked me. They're called retrieval units and they strike us 'earthers' as they call us without warning. Pop through a portal from this dimension, grab a future slave and pop back. No fuss, no muss. I barely saw my wife stir next to me, on her face a look of fuzzy shock, and then I was knocked into a daze by the jaunt. Next thing I know I'm being grabbed by two more men and the cold steel of an inhibitor collar is being snapped around my neck. I fought them all, but I was weak from the jump and still muddled from sleep. They had me on my knees in no time with my arms forced around and locked securely behind me.

Then one of the four took some kind of laser device and cut away the briefs I'd been sleeping in, leaving me shocked and naked and retching wildly. Another man grabbed the sleep goggles roughly off my head. Instinctively I shut my eyes, not wanting to punch a hole through the nearest wall, or a captor for that matter. I wish now that I could have. I might have stood a
chance.

When I first heard the seductively familiar voice, I shivered. "S'okay, cher. You 'ave an inhibitor collar on. You can open your eyes now."

I hesitated and one of the men hit me in the back of the head. "You heard him! Open your eyes!"

Then I heard something I'd never thought I'd ever hear. The voice of Remy Lebeau in full fury. I don't think I ever heard him that angry. Most of the time he'd had a very charming, wily laid-back attitude which of course infuriated me whenever I was around him. I felt him pass me as a piece of his clothing whipped against my exposed chest. My eyes remained closed but I
could hear the crack of the man's jaw as Remy yelled, "NEVER hit him again! Ever! Or any of dos I've chosen for my private collection! You do and your life is forfeit, comprendez-vous?!"

A chill ran through me as I heard the words "private collection" and the implications ran wild through my brain as a soft hand ran down my back in a loving caress. "Dey are a work of art and I won't have dem harmed or marred or even scratched." I shuddered again. Remy Lebeau was a thief. And I understood right away that I was a collection piece, like one of the pictures
that had hung in his room in the mansion. No one ever had proof those paintings were stolen, but we all had our suspicions. When he vanished all those years ago, we'd kept his room open for him for a long time. He was another X-men we expected to see again. But as the years went by we eventually needed the space and Storm had insisted on taking the paintings to her loft. She always swore they weren't stolen. She always believed in him. I wonder what she'd think of him now.

However, in this situation, I would be much more than just a painting or statue. I'd have much more of a purpose here. I'd be a favorite pet of his. Warm his bed and service him whenever and wherever he desired.

"Scott, open your eyes, ces vous plait." His warm breath swam over my ears and in that instant I couldn't refuse him anything. I opened my eyes to a colorful, albeit decadent, world. A world sans the rosy tint of my ruby quartz visor. And came face to face with Alex.

He was on his knees in front of me, his head bowed. Naked except for an inhibitor collar similar to mine and a fiendish little device anchored around the base of his cock. A device I've come to loath. It managed to keep his penis fully erect and my own spasmed in sympathy. I was sure it was painful. My suspicions were well founded. I wear that device now as I lick and suck
Alex, my hips rocking slightly in a lewd manner to my arousal. It's a technology developed on this world that allows a man to stay hard for as long as it's fastened securely around the base of the penis. I'm not certain how it works. It doesn't constrict the circulation like an ordinary cock ring, so there's no concern that the member will lose blood and necrose. And there is a mild electrical buzz felt when it's worn, not necessarily unpleasant. But the penis is kept firmly under control. A man is unable to ejaculate while wearing the instrument and therefore unable to find release from the painful swelling. A few hours with this apparatus in place can make most men scream for mercy. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on one's idea of courage,
I'm not most men. I've reached my threshold for pain many times and have been able to go beyond it. A vigorous workout in the Danger Room could bring most men screaming to their knees.

But as I was saying, there was Alex, kneeling in front of me, refusing to meet my gaze. He kept his head bowed and said nothing. Although, as I look back on this event, I realize now that he had probably been commanded not to speak or look at me. Afraid for him, and perhaps a little for myself, I whispered his name. He still wouldn't look up. Well trained. You say nothing when you're given a command. You do exactly what you are told. He hardly needed to be punished by this time. Just controlled. Which is why the device was being used on him at the time. One of the reasons for this technology is to modify a male slave's behavior. Once fully trained, he can keep himself hard under his own will, until his master gives him permission to ejaculate.

As I whispered his name in sympathy and fear I could see the slight tensing of his arms and hands. I knew he would have liked to have curled his fingers into fists, but that is not the proper way for a slave to behave in front of his master. He must show his love and devotion at all times through a submissive and relaxed posture.

Remy ran his hand along my spine once again, causing my head to jerk up and around. "What is this, Gambit?" I asked with barely repressed fury despite the charm power at work. "Why do you hold my brother captive? Why am I here?"

He chuckled and made a 'tut tut' noise. Then he rose in that infuriatingly enticing manner he had and moved to stand next to Alex. His hand reached down to casually, yet affectionately stroke the top of my brother's head, as if to pet the family dog. I had to bite my own cheek to keep from moaning at the erotic picture it made. Emotions were at war within me. I was raging against this violation, and yet his power held some sway over me. I had never seen that charm power so strong before. So compelling.

"Scott, mon cher, I'll forgive your outburst today. You 'aven't been trained yet, so you don't know how to speak to your master properly. But any time after today and such an outburst will not go unpunished." His red eyes glowed as they watched mine. "I own your brother." He continued. "And now I own you." Simple and direct. Remy wasn't about to explain everything to me. Many of the answers I'd have to come up with on my own. Like the fact that Remy was the ruler of this country I now found myself in. His word was law and the people seemed to love him for it. Which could have been easily dismissed as the effect of his charm. But I soon found out that under his rule, the economy was thriving, the country was at peace for the first time in 100
years, and most of the 'free' citizens were happy living here. And slavery was allowed. Most of the slaves were used for manual labor. Only the wealthy kept pleasure slaves. Remy had a large 'collection', as he called it. Mostly male. But Alex and I would soon become his favorites.

I watched him warily, wanting to scream at him for what he'd said. I wasn't a slave. He didn't own me. But the collar around my neck and the locks on my arms spoke otherwise. I was at his mercy right then and would have to bide my time until I found some way to freedom. I swallowed in a dry throat and glanced at Alex. Remy smiled, almost cheerfully as he continued to stroke his 'pet'. Then he spoke in a gratingly pleasant voice. "You don' 'ave to know why or how. You just have to understand de truth of de matter." He paused for a moment and looked down at Alex. To me he said, "You'll understand dat truth by de end of the week. You'll understand how well I own you, cher." With a shrug he finished, "And you'll come to love it too.

Then Remy added as an afterthought, "Jus' like your brother here, hien." As he looked at Alex his hand reached down to cup his chin and lift it so Alex could gaze into his eyes. "Show him, mon couer." He said, so low I had to strain to hear. "Show Scott how much you love and obey me, non?" He turned his hips so that I could get the full view of what Alex was about to do.

Reaching up with one hand, Alex pulled Remy's cock from beneath the silken rob he wore and kissed it almost reverently, his lips pressed along the middle of the shaft. Suddenly time slowed down for me as I watched in horror and repulsion Alex's submission. This act I would come to know as a sign of ownership between pleasure slaves and their master. When a slave was told to show his (or her) love of his master he would take the cock and kiss it lovingly as Alex was doing now. Women were forbidden to own pleasure slaves except through a special privilege given by the ruler or the council. So this was considered the universal sign of submission.

I continued to watch, unable to turn away as Alex then placed the head of Remy's penis between his lips and dropped his hands to his sides. His cheeks hollowed as Remy began to thrust forward in one even motion until all of the shaft had disappeared into Alex's warm mouth. The nose of my brother was pressed hard into Remy's pubic hair, but I could see his nostrils flair as he concentrated on filling his lungs. And yet his eyes appeared to glaze over in what could only be described as bliss and I looked on in shock, disgust, and arousal.

Within seconds Remy had his hands around the back of Alex's head and was thrusting faster and faster into his mouth. I could almost imagine Alex's tongue working quickly, lapping at the underside of the flesh, keeping time to Remy's furious pace. The Cajun's hands controlled Alex's head and face, holding him right where he wanted him, and in a few moments I heard the soft
mix of French and English curses as he reached his climax. Pulling Alex all the way to his stomach, he shot his seed deep down his throat. Fascinated, I watched my brother's Adam's apple bob up and down as he drank in the thick warm fluid in lusty abandon. And with a flush I felt my own prick grow in response. I tried to turn away in disgust, but the compulsion to watch was too great. Remy's power kept me faced forward, eyes open, highly aware of every stroke, every lap of my brother's tongue. Desperately I wanted to break the bonds on my arms and touch myself. My hips involuntarily lurched upward and I bit back a moan of arousal. And I couldn't be sure it came from the charm or my own lust-filled mind.

Gratefully, Remy didn't notice as he caressed Alex's cheek possessively. "Every drop, mon cher." He rasped gently, eyes hooded with the afterglow of an orgasm.

After Alex had licked him clean, Remy pulled him to his feet and kissed him tenderly. I was now completely and painfully erect. If someone had touched me at that moment I would have spewed my cum over the floor then and there. But Remy was busy lapping at Alex's mouth, teasing him with his tongue. Soon that tongue vanished into Alex and he began to suck on it in much the same way he'd blown Lebeau's prick. After a moment Remy pulled back from Alex holding my brother's arms by his side and looked with pride on his well-trained slave.

"Makes my heart swell, cher. You've learned well. Hope you can train your brot'er to do it dat good." Alex smiled and flushed at the praise. My eyes went wide when I heard this. Alex would be my trainer. I shook my head. "No." I breathed. Both men looked my way, but said nothing. In shame I saw Alex staring at my erection with a slight smirk, and I looked away.

"You done good, Alex. I want you to release yourself now." Curious, I looked back up at the two. My brother glanced my way for a second and I was certain I saw my own shame reflected in that look, with a slight blush of anger. He didn't want me to see this. But then his Master was reaching down to release the device on his cock. I heard a faint click as it came unlocked and Alex moaned in relief and pleasure. Holding the ring in his left hand, Remy began to stroke Alex's hard member with his right. He fisted it once, then twice, then place his cupped hand under the head as Alex, eyes closed and head thrown back, quickly spasmed and came, squirting all his cum into Remy's hand with a cry of such ecstasy I shuddered.

Right after Remy leaned toward Alex and whispered something in his ear. My brother immediately sank to his knees and put his head back opening his mouth. Remy's right hand, still full of the product of Alex's release, tipped it over the open mouth dribbling the fluid down over his fingers. Such submission from my brother sent a spike of fear down into my stomach. But still I couldn't turn away. The creamy life-giving substance dripped quickly into Alex's mouth and he lapped at it eagerly. When most of it had rolled over his tongue and down his throat, Alex reached up to kiss Remy's fingers, sucking each digit into his mouth one at a time until he had cleaned them thoroughly. Then with long erotic strokes he licked the hand clean. When he'd finished his chore, he once again took Remy's cock in his hand and kissed it lovingly, as if in gratitude for the release and the quenching of his thirst.

"Bien." Remy said patting his head affectionately. "Now stay der quietly while I talk to your brot'er." Alex sat back on his heels, arms loose at his side, and bowed his head in acquiescence.

Remy's approach was casual, yet commanding and seductive. With an easy agility he twirled the instrument that had bound my brother's cock around his finger. When he stood in front of me I was trembling and kept my head down. Whether in anger or fear, I wasn't quite sure. Like a magician he suddenly produced my sleep goggles in front of my eyes and I looked up at him. His smile was benevolent as if to say "Submit, and all will go well." I could almost believe it. But I knew it was a lie. The very fact that he insisted on ownership told me the truth behind the lie. And his actions spoke volumes. He would never permanently mar us. Probably wouldn't physically harm us. His charm power could easily subdue our will. And we were too precious to him to damage. He was too obsessed. In some perverse way, I think he loved us, me and my brother. And his looked told me he would love watching us together.

"Not gonna need these anymore, hein." He told me. "Dat collar's never gonna come off." He chuckled. "Can't 'ave you blowing the place apart, eh?" The goggles fell from his finger and clattered to the floor. Then he placed his hand against my cheek tenderly and let the warmth of his empathic ability wash over me. My eyes closed and I leaned into the touch, seeking his love.
Still radiating all his charm, Remy raised me to my feet. I shook almost violently as a hand came down to clasp my erection.

"For me, eh?" Smirking he stroked it gently. I almost lost it. I wish I had, because suddenly the ring that had tormented my brother was snapped in place around the base of my cock. I hissed and bucked at the sensation. But Remy pulled me to himself, placing a hand on either cheek to steady my hips. My prick throbbed in agony trapped between my stomach and his.

"Shhh..." He cooed into my ear, nipping at the lobe sharply. "S'okay. I know it hurts. But it won' damage you. I could never let dat happen, cher. Just listen to your brot'er. Do what he tells you and dis..." He touched the ring and I gasped, "won' be on long." His hands kneaded the cheeks of my buttocks gently and a finger ran down the length of my crack, causing me to buck
furiously again into Remy, terrified, aroused, and disoriented.

"Remy." I breathed through gritted teeth. "How can you do this?"

He said nothing at first. Kissing my cheek, then my eyes and nose, his tongue darted out across my lips and I opened them without thinking. His tongue slipped into mine and he kissed me with a bruising force, passion enflaming me, pain engulfing me and centering on my throbbing member still pressed against this man, my master. I wanted him then. I couldn't deny it, not even
to myself. And I was in a rage against this madness he'd dragged me into.

Then as he had done with my brother, Remy pulled back and held my arms in his hands. "How could I not?" One hand flew out toward Alex. "Why settle for one Summers when I can 'ave de matching set?" His eyes twinkled in amusement. And there it was. We were a center piece, our beauty to be put on display for all to see and for him to enjoy. I began to tremble again and swallowed hard, not wanting to show him my fear. But he winked at me good-naturedly (Remy had always been at his most cheerful after sex or a successful gambit) and said, "You can't eat just one, non?"

I groaned inwardly at his lewd joke. He gave a chuckle. "Well, mon couers, I have state matters to attend to." He looked over at Alex and motioned him to stand. "I'll be gone a week, Alex. I want your brother broken in by de time I return. Use what I taught you. But no harm is to come to him. I don't want him whipped or bruised. And his backside is for me, d'ccord? You leave his cherry for me." Alex nodded. "I want him pliable in my bed on our first night. Don't disappoint me, pet."

Then he was gone in a swish of fine silk and grand gesture, and I was alone with my brother and three guards. My prick twitched and throbbed painfully, and a flush covered my body along with a fine sheen of sweat. The warmth was gone, and all that was left was pain and fury.

"Alex." I said, my voice rising in volume as I seethed. "Snap out of this! This is crazy! For God's sake, Alex, you can't go through with what he's asking! It's...it's vile!"

Alex looked at me and for a moment a flicker of shame passed across his face. I thought I had him. But then it was gone with a shake of his head.

"I'm sorry Scott. But what Remy wants, he gets. I can't fight him anymore. Believe me I've tried. And there's no where far enough to run that he won't find you. You weren't even safe in the mansion."

His eyes grew cold in resignation and he looked over at the guards. "Take him to the play room and put him in the stocks. I'll be there shortly." Then he turned on his heel and strode away.

"Alex!" I screamed at him as the guards took hold of my arms and began dragging me in the opposite direction. "Alex! You can't do this! You can't want this!" How wrong I was. A well-trained slave can do anything his master orders. Even to his own brother.

I was still too weak from the jaunt, and even my anger didn't strengthen me as I fought futilely against the three guards. They dragged me kicking and jerking against them down the hall to the 'play room'. When they'd pulled me past the threshold and I had a chance to look around I stopped struggling. The room was a cornucopia of sexual toys and accouterments. Nothing was
outwardly hostile. I learned early on that Remy, thankfully, wasn't into torture pain at least. And he didn't used physical pain for it's own sake. There had to be a reason for the agony, like the little device wrapped around my cock. He never used pain to break a man. There were other subtle ways of doing that, much to my horror. And then there was his charm power if he so
chose to use it. But I suspect he liked the challenge of not using it. Of having a man broken and compliant through demonstration of all the pleasure he could give and receive and all the hopelessness of never being able to find a place to hide, once his mutagenic signature had been recorded. And I found out soon enough that he used mental torture and manipulation when none of his other tricks worked. But he was sincere in protecting the beauty of an object he owned, including his slaves.

The fact that there were no whips, no instruments of torture that I could see, did nothing to ease my fear. I had no idea how Alex planned to make me compliant, and I sure as hell didn't want to find out. I looked quickly around the room searching for a weapon of any kind as the retrieval units pulled me to the 'stocks'. The room was large with very high ceilings, and yet there was a sense of confinement. Along one wall hung iron rings of different sizes and heights to secure a slave. In another corner there was a large four poster bed with more hooks and rings placed in various locations. I saw a chain dangling from the head board. Several chests and tables lined a third wall. On the tables were many different sizes of dildos and vibrators, cock rings, bite blocks, horse tails and butt plugs. A vast assortment of lubes and gels. And a wide array of instruments I couldn't put names to. Again, nothing overtly dangerous. A sling hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room, similar to a hammock, but with leather straps to hold a man's arms and legs in place. There was a T-shaped table to stretch a man's arms out at his side. Ankle cuffs were underneath at the end to hold a man bent over with his legs spread. And then I looked behind me and saw where Alex intended to bind me. It was an old fashioned stocks. A wooden plank cut in half with holes for both arms and the head. But instead of coming all the way to the ground for a man to kneel behind, it was anchored on two poles cemented into the floor and stood over two thick platforms that spread out in a V shape.

One of the guards let go of me when he realized I had stopped fighting and went over to the stocks to open the upper portion. The other two dragged me underneath it and unlocked my arms. That's when I made my move. I pulled one arm forcefully away from one of the guards and then swung it up as hard as I could into his groin. He yelped and clutched at the injury. Before the other two could act I slipped back underneath the stocks and ran to the tables. Amazingly I noticed the one dangerous item I'd missed before. A metal pole about nine inches long. I clutched it tightly in my hand as the men advanced warily. I was prepared to kill if I had to.

But suddenly the world tilted and a horrible wave of dizziness and nausea went through me. I dropped the weapon and fell to my knees. And then Alex was standing over me holding a small black control box and frowning.

"Sorry, Scotty. The collar is tuned to your mutagenic signature. It disrupts the neuro pathways along your spine. The sensation you're feeling won't last long and it won't cause any permanent damage, but it'll keep you from fighting while we strap you in."

"Alex." I pleaded, barely able to whisper the words. "P-please don't do this."

He shook his head sadly. "Sorry bro. I don't have a choice." Then he gestured to the guards and once again they dragged my now limp body over to the stocks. My head and arms were forced into the tight semicircles and the top portion was secured above me and padlocked on the side. Two of the guards grabbed a leg and pulled them both roughly underneath the stocks so that I was sitting on my ass. I made a weak attempt to kick, but only succeeded in aiding their efforts. Not too gently my legs were straightened along the planks and spread shoulder length apart. Then they tightened leather straps across my thighs just above the knees and around the ankles. I could barely shift my rump. The ring at the base of my cock forced it up at a 45 degree angle. It continued to throb furiously and I had to slow my breathing, concentrating with all I had to relax and meditate trying to dull the pain.

Alex would have none of it. He touched my erection with feather strokes and I nearly exploded. Tears ran down my face. I couldn't help it anymore. And the worst of it was when I looked up at him, he was smiling warmly, lovingly, like the brother I had known. I groaned audibly and said, "No. I don't want this."

"You will." Alex responded encouragingly and reached over to stroke my face. I jerked back at his touch and knocked my head hard against the wooden plank, seeing stars. His hand kept coming until it met my cheek. "You're my brother, Scott and I love you. This doesn't have to go like this. All you have to do is what I tell you and I'll let you release yourself." His fingers ran down long my jaw line, while the first digit of his other hand circled the head of my swollen member. I nearly screamed.

"Fuck you!" I cursed at him. "I'll never do what you want!"

"Yes." His voice was low, resigned. "You will." Then he laughed almost wickedly. "Us Summers. Stubborn to a fault." His hands came away from my body and he stood up. I couldn't raise my head very far, so I raised my eyes to glare at him. "You know," he continued in same sad tone, "It took Remy a month to break me. I think it was a month. I'm not quite sure. You can't tell time in this place and I'm not allowed to wear anything except this collar and the occasional ornamentation." I wondered what he meant by that, but then I remembered the cock rings. "I can't tell you what it took to make me this obedient. Remy ordered me not to. He told me he was going to send the retrieval units after you. I tried to talk him out of it, I swear. I never
wanted to bring you into this. But he had his mind made up. And whatever he wants he usually gets. He didn't tell me I'd have to train you, though. I'm not happy about this. But I can't fight him. No one can. That damn ability he has to charm people." His voice had choked on the last sentence and he looked away from me for a moment.

When he looked back his eyes sparkled with unshed tears and he said, "I tried to kill him once. I got hold of a knife. I got as close to his bed as I could while he was sleeping, but when I went to raise the knife his damn power took hold of me and I dropped my weapon." He shook his head in denial. "He must have heard the clatter or maybe he'd never been asleep. His eyes opened and looked up at me standing over him. And he smiled." Alex pounded a fist into his other hand. "HE SMILED! As if he knew what I was going to do. Then he bent down over the bed and picked up the knife. I couldn't move. Until..." Alex paused swallowing hard. "Until he handed it back to me." He continued as a single tear ran down his cheek. "He put it in my hand and raised it to his throat and said, "Go on, cher. If it means dat much to you." My hand began to shake so bad I actually nicked him. Then I threw the knife across the room and crawled into his arms. He held me while I cried like a baby begging his
forgiveness. He stroked my hair, soothing me, telling me it was okay, that he understood, but he couldn't let it go unpunished. And then he made the sweetest, most tender love to me that night. That's when I gave in. That's when I knew I couldn't fight him anymore."

My eyes must have betrayed the pity and revulsion I felt, because Alex paused and looked at me, his eyes becoming steel, pulling back the emotions, the sadness for me and the regret at what he had to do. "He'll find your limit. You'll be eating out of his hand by the end of the week. You might as well give in now. It'll go a whole lot easier."

"NO!" I shouted, as the coldness of his eyes pierced me and brought my anger blazing back up to the surface. "I'm not you! He'll never do to me what he did to you! You're just..." I met his eyes and faltered, knowing that what I read in those eyes spoke truth. Remy would win in the end. I knew it because I had felt that kiss. That first kiss of his. I could have drowned in that kiss. It had overwhelmed me. It had nearly driven the pain from my groin out of my thoughts. But I couldn't admit it to myself. Not then. Not for a long, long while.

"No." I stated firmly. "Do what you have to do, but I won't be a willing partner to this depravity."

He closed his eyes, looking so, so tired. "Very well." When he opened his eyes again he seemed different, almost cruel, as if he were steeling himself for what he had to do. He turned to the guards.

"Send them in." My brother ordered. I looked up as the units escorted two young naked male slaves to my side. One carried a basin of floral scented water. The other carried soap, washcloths, and towels. They stood hesitantly looking at me, looking at Alex, then at each other. I stared at them in confusion until Alex said, "Wash him thoroughly. I'll be back shortly." Then my brother was gone.

The two set to work. Slow and erotic they soaped my body with the scented water, running the washcloths sensuously down my chest and back, then up along my thighs. They were very thorough. One even washed my hair, running his fingers through it, scrubbing in a way that made my scalp tingle with delight. And I melted under their touch. Every nerve in my body was on fire.
The throbbing in my groin grew more intense. And I saw stars when one of the men began to scrub it lightly with a washcloth. He took his time and I was in near agony. But the pain melded into the pleasure of their touch until I was writhing, thrusting my hips up and breathing fast and heavy. I couldn't shift enough to move in pleasure. I couldn't thrust high enough. And I couldn't
ejaculate. God, how I wanted to cum. It was agonizing and oh so wonderful.

Finally, sadly I felt, they finished by drying me completely and stood up. And my cock continued to throb without release. I noticed at this point that the guards had left. The slaves positioned themselves on either side of me, kneeling in submission, with their heads bowed. They said nothing. I tried to reason with them. Then I begged them to take off the ring. They ignored my
pleas. After a long while Alex returned. He stood between my legs and offered his cock to me.

"Take it, Scott. Let me show you how to suck a man. Then I'll take off the ring."

I shook my head and tightened my mouth, clenching my teeth against his intrusion. He sighed deeply and moved back, gesturing to the men and then to me. "Pleasure him." He said. My eyes widened in shock and disbelief. What was Alex ordering them to do? Was he relenting? Would the two men remove the device that kept my prick trapped in swollen agony?

One of the slaves came around between my legs and the other crouched down over my back. I felt a tongue slide down my spine and I bucked as far as I could. Hands were all over me. A mouth came down on my left nipple teasing it, causing it to swell. Then a hand came down on my other nipple to pluck at it bruisingly. I didn't think my cock could grow any further, but it did, painfully.

The slave behind me continued to lick down my spine. I felt his hands run over my back softly as he kneaded and massaged the tension there. He couldn't reach further up my spine than the diaphragm because of the wooden stocks, so he went lower. The point of his tongue trailed down my lower back to just above the tip of my crack. I tried to pull away, but then his hands slid
under the cheeks of my ass and held me firmly so his tongue could thrust in and out between my buttocks. I moaned and cried under the assault. I could move so little. And I was even more frustrated than when they had washed me.

In front, the other slave began kissing my forehead, then running his tongue along my eyelids, holding my face tightly in his hands. He bit my nose playfully and I shook my head forcefully. I wouldn't give in to this affection. He continued kissing down my jaw and then licking at my lips and clenched teeth. At that moment the other slave tongued between my cheeks and I moaned. The man in front seized this opportunity to slide his tongue in my mouth. Caught up in the agonizing pleasure I began to suck in his tongue without thinking. He wrapped his arms around my waist and began to rub his own erect cock along the area between my penis and thigh. But amazingly he never came. I was so certain he would. I whimpered when he finally pulled his
tongue out of my mouth. But then he bent down over my groin and licked the head of my cock. I screamed and Alex yanked the young slave away.

"NOT THERE! THAT'S FOR YOUR MASTER ONLY!" The slave cowered as he roared. But just as suddenly Alex's anger dissipated and he pushed the man back toward me. "You can work around it, but leave his penis and testicles to me." He
ordered. The young slave began touching me again, hesitantly at first, then more confidently. He started on my nipples, but drove one hand down around the base of my cock, pulling gently on the pubic hair. Then his tongue went down along my inner left thigh and it was worse than even the direct contact with my penis had been.

"Stop!" I rasped. I was dazed by this point, close to the edge with the overload of my senses. And no release in sight. Alex pulled the slave working on my thigh away and offered his cock to me again.

"Come on Scotty. I know you're dying for the release." He stroked his long thick member with both his hands, fisting it up and down in front of my face. The slave behind me continued his ministrations on my anal area. He'd gotten closer and closer to that sensitive opening and I was finding it very hard at this point to deny Alex. But I set my teeth tighter against the flesh offer,
my nostrils flaring in defiance. I wouldn't do this. And when my brother began to caress my face with his member, I bit down even further. I felt as though my teeth were about to shatter and my swollen organ explode. But I wouldn't take what he was offering. He wouldn't break me. Finally, Alex reached a climax and ejaculated hard over my lips and chin. Cum dribbled down
my jaw and on to my chest. But my mouth stayed closed.

He stepped back with a frown, giving a sharp order to the slave behind me to stop. I could tell by the clench of his fists and the tightening of his shoulders that the orgasm hadn't been that pleasant for him. Just something he felt he had to do. An attempt to humiliate me and drive back my confidence. It didn't work. And I smiled up at him in spite of the pain in my groin.

"Is that the best you can do, bro?" I taunted.

That had to be the worst mistake I could make. Suddenly he smiled brightly. He was quickly losing any sympathy he had for me. "Oh no, bro. I can do a whole lot better. This is just the beginning." He confused me for a moment then when he suddenly changed topics. "You must be pretty thirsty by now. When's the last time you had something to drink?" His voice was pleasant
enough, but I could see the cruelty in his eyes. I licked my lips, and with dawning horror realized just how thirsty I was.

"Tell you what, Scott." Alex offered as he saw me lick my lips. "Let me put my cock in your mouth. Just let me set it in there for a few minutes, and I'll give you something to drink."

"Go to hell!" Came my reply.

"I think by tomorrow morning you'll pretty much believe you're in hell." He snapped back. Then harshly he ordered the two slaves to leave.

But as they rushed to the door, Alex softened his voice and said, "You may release yourselves." Both the young slaves looked at him longingly, almost unable to believe what he had said. He nodded. "You did well." He told them.

In unison, the two slaves said, "Thank you master."

After they'd gone he swung back around in anger. "I'll be back in twelve hours, Scott." Glaring at me venomously, he said, "You're an idiot. A stubborn headed fool. But in twelve hours you'll be screaming for something to drink through dry cracked lips and begging me to make that offer again. Only the next time, I'll up the price." With that he swung back around and strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I heard the click of the lock and the lights went out. My cock continued to throb in the darkness.

"Go to hell." I whispered to the empty room.

Part II

"Jean." I rasped in the pitch-black room. There was no light at all. Not even from under the doorway. It was isolating and frightening. I felt as though I'd been trapped in that darkness for a century. My mouth ached with the dryness and my tongue felt like a cotton ball. I could hardly produce any saliva to moisten my lips. And my penis was throbbing in answer to my fear.

At first I'd tried to meditate. Logan had given me a few meditation sessions. For a gruff angry loner he sure could relax when he wanted to. But I never quite got the hang of it. I think a lot of people might just be right about me. I'm wound too tight.

So then it was on to repulsive thoughts to try to ease the swelling of my groin. But all I could think about was the time Bobby had cut his arm and ignored the wound. It got miserably infected and swelled so bad Hank had to release the pressure by making long incisions down the length of the forearm. If I could have seen my dick at the time I'd swear it was as bad as Bobby's arm. The continuous electrical buzz slowly began to irritate the hell out of me. It was like Chinese water torture. And whenever the air conditioning vent came on, the frigid air wafted over my shaft tickling the raw nerves and causing me to howl in torment.

And the thirst. It almost had me wishing I'd taken Alex's offer. Almost. I tried to secrete some saliva and swallow, but there wasn't enough anymore. Surely they weren't going to let me die of thirst. The way Remy had struck that guard made me believe he'd be sorely tested if I died. Or maybe this was Alex's plan. In order to save me from the humiliation he had suffered, perhaps he believed I had to die. He'd given up. He'd said as much. And perhaps he felt this was the only way to keep me from being raped by Remy. Had I not been so miserable, I might have agreed with this theory. But during that long night all I wanted, all I could think about was getting a drink of water and getting the ring removed.

And I needed to pee. In spite of having had nothing to drink since I'd gotten here, I still felt the urge. My bladder felt uncomfortably full. But I couldn't urinate either. At first I held myself, not wanting to give into the urge. I would have hated for Alex to return after having soiled myself. But toward morning the sensation was more tormenting than the need to cum. But
when I tried to relax to pee and found I couldn't, I nearly screamed in frustration. I wondered fleetingly what would happen if my bladder got too full. Would it rupture? Didn't seem like a pleasant way to die.

At that thought I did try to scream. It came out more as a croak. I rasped for Alex, begging him to release this torment. I'd do anything. Just take it off and let me cum and pee. But no one came. And then I received a minor comfort. I cried. The tears spilled down my cheeks for a few moments until my ducts dried up from the lack of moisture in my body. The salty liquid ran
down into my mouth and I breathed a little easier as I slurped it down, moistening my lips and tongue. A strange, yet somehow appropriate thought, considering my present circumstance, occurred to me as I drank my own tears. I had heard that a man's semen tasted salty. I wondered, would it taste like my tears? If I allowed Alex to ejaculate in my mouth would it relieve this
thirst and taste as wonderful as that blessed fluid? Little did I know I would soon get an answer to my questions. I was in denial at the time. I was so sure I could hold out. Time would prove me wrong.

I must have finally dosed for a while, because suddenly the lights were on and Alex was standing in front of me. I blinked several times, trying to ease the cracked residue of my tears. Finally I broke the crust on my eyelids completely and looked up at Alex.

"Morning, bro." I tried to sound cheery, but my voice creaked wearily and the words came out as a whisper.

"Morning." He replied. "Did you sleep well?" I couldn't even hear a trace of sarcasm.

"Like a baby." I rasped. "Could use a little more though. It hasn't been twelve hours already, has it?"

He snorted at that. Good. Maybe this friendly bantering could bring him around. He patted my head and placed his cock against my lips. No such luck.

"Would you like a glass of water?" Alex asked courteously. "All you have to do is take my dick all the way down your throat and hold it there until I pull out. That's all. Easier said than done."

"No thanks." I croaked pleasantly. "I'm not really thirsty this morning."

He chuckled. "Well, maybe later, okay?"

"Maybe." I replied. Then he left. An hour later he was back with the same offer. I was close to taking it. My tears had dried up. My lips were cracked and swollen, and a tasteless sludge was forming on my tongue. But I politely declined when he stroked my hair. For some reason that gesture of brotherly affection irritated me.

Every hour on the hour he came back. Or so he mentioned to me in passing. I could believe him. My brother was a hot-tempered man, but very organized. Very time oriented. He liked schedules. But every time he placed his cock against my lips I refused. In the end I wore him down. I beat him at the waiting game. My brother had a tendency to be impatient. And, I have to admit, he was on the clock here. Remy was due back in five days and he was expecting a compliant, docile Scott Summers in his bed.

But what transpired once his patience wore thin made me realize I had pretty much made mistake number two. After the fifth time, when Alex recognized that I wasn't going to take him willingly and that I might end up dying from dehydration instead, he entered the room with a guard at his side. All other times he'd come alone. A shiver of fear ran down my spine.

As the guard went around the stocks and stood behind my back, Alex knelt down in front of me. I turned my head nervously around to try to see what the guard was doing because I had seen him hiding something behind his back, but the wood plank blocked my view. So I turned to look at Alex. He looked into my eyes coldly and without a word grabbed my erect member and squeezed viciously. In shock and pain I opened my mouth and howled. Too late I realized their intentions. A latex bite block was shoved roughly into my mouth by the guard and secured tightly around my head. The bit covered my teeth and prevented me from biting down or closing my mouth. It was so well fitted to my teeth and firmly secured behind my head, that I found it impossible to dislodge with my tongue. Alex stood up and ordered the guard to leave, which he promptly did.

The room became as silent as a grave. All I could hear was the sharp intake of my breath through my flaring nostrils. My jaw popped loudly once to relieve the pressure of not being able to close. And I started to shake, feeling my heart racing, knowing and terrified of what was coming.

Alex still said nothing as he came forward. Only a grunt was issued as he pushed his cock between the bit and into my mouth. I gagged as a my arid tongue was shoved towards the back of my throat. Panic came over me as I desperately tried to shift my tongue under his intruding cock. His hands came firmly down on either side of my head to hold it in place and I bucked, trying to shout around the intrusion, begging him to stop. But he ignored me and continued forward. I could barely move. Not just from the straps that held me, but from the stiffness of being tied down in the same position for almost a day. Finally, mercifully, my tongue popped down below Alex's cock and I took a deep breath through my nose, trying to calm the stark raving fear of being choked.

And then Alex spoke in a kind, calm and even tone that slowly reduced my fear. "Relax your tongue, Scott. Act like you're yawning and it will go down without you gagging. I won't let you choke." And when I thought I heard him bite back a sob, I relaxed just a little and he slid deeper into me. He stroked my hair softly. "That's it, bro. You can do this. Take it all the way
down." He coaxed gently. Tears came to my eyes and suddenly my nose was pressed up against his belly. Relief filled my body for a moment.

Alex held his cock inside my throat for several long agonizing minutes. Continuing to stroke my hair he spoke encouragingly. "You're doing great, Scotty. Just a little longer. Keep your tongue and throat relaxed and remember to breath through your nose." His voice was soothing and gentle. And in spite of his violation I couldn't bring myself to hate him. He was just doing what he'd been ordered to do. But I was angry all the same.

After a few minutes, he pulled himself partially out and thrust slowly back down. Then he held himself there for several more minutes. A pattern began to form in this way. The time he held his cock down my throat became shorter and shorter. And the time he started to thrust in and out became longer and longer. I have to admit I was amazed at his control. I think I would have
exploded the moment I put my prick in his mouth. Soon he pulled nearly all the way out letting me taste his pre-cum. And I was in heaven for the first time since the whole miserable affair had started. I wrapped my tongue around the head of his penis and lapped voraciously, coating my mouth with the moisture he offered. He clutched my hair tightly when I did this and moaned. His hips twitched calling him to thrust back down, but with a small mercy I felt him fight the instinct and allow me to take in all I wanted of the slippery fluid.

Eventually his control broke and he thrust back down. I was ready for him by then. I had learned how to take it now. However, his strokes came much, much faster now as he reached his climax and it was becoming more and more difficult to control my gag reflex. And he was holding my head again, a whole lot tighter than before, making sure, without thinking, that I stayed right where he wanted me. He was driving hard into my mouth. I tried to concentrate on breathing through my nose, but the pace he'd taken up was making it hard to pull in air. I was panicking again, but now Alex seemed unaware. He began cursing, making lewd comments about my mouth. How tight and warm. How he couldn't wait to do this all again. His big brother, leader of the X-men on his knees in front of him forced to give head. What would the X-men say to that? he taunted. What would Jean say? I protested in anger, trying to yell at him around his thick hard shaft. But he kept ramming it into me, never letting up for an instant.

"I'm...uhh...not...the little...brother...you can...order around anymore." He huffed. "I'm...your master...now!" With a roar he slammed into me and shot his cum deep down my throat. As he spasmed inside me I began to retch. The creamy thick fluid was making me sick. I could feel my stomach roller coasting. But he wouldn't remove his cock. Finally, when I started to heave violently, he realized what was happening and pulled out swiftly, falling back. I howled as loud as I could against the bit and retched for several more moments.

Alex knelt down again in front of me and rubbed the back of my neck. "Breathe, Scott."

"Ah can'." I tried to say as I gasped for air. "ak' i' ouu'!" I begged him.

"No." He said without preamble, understanding immediately what I was asking. "Through your nose. Breathe through your nose." Tenderly he continued to stroke the back of my neck encouraging me to breath slowly through my nose until finally the retching stopped and I could take in air properly again. Kissing my cheek, he rubbed his smooth face against my neck. So soft. So sensual. "It's okay, Scott. I'm sorry. Please understand that I didn't want to hurt you, but you left me no choice."

I closed my eyes blinking away tears, and once again felt the agonizing throb of my swollen penis. As I began to tremble in anger and fear, Alex began to stroke my body. His long slender fingers tried to soothe away the rage I was experiencing as reality set in. But his words belied his tender gestures as he started to explain what he had planned for me. The rage soon dissipated and fear was left in its wake. I shuddered violently as I listened to his voice.

"Shh...It's got to be done." He explained gently, kissing my eyes, then running his tongue along my outstretched lips. "You're going to dehydrate, unless I get some fluid into you. You're so damn stubborn. I've called for one of Remy's physicians. He's going to insert an IV in your arm and give you fluid through your veins."

I shook my head no, but he grabbed it firmly and forced me to look at him. "Listen to me. I'm not letting you die. You're not leaving me alone in this." Tears trickled down his face. "I need you, Scott."

"'ATER!" I shouted at him. "'ake 'is 'UCKIN t'ing ouu!"

Alex shook his head. "You left me no choice. I'm sorry." Then he stood up and turned to spot a kindly old gentleman standing quietly just inside the door. He held a black satchel in one of his gnarled hands. Alex motioned to him and he hobbled over to stand in front of me.

"Remy and his damn training." The old doctor muttered as he quickly assessed the situation. He looked back around at Alex. "I suppose you aren't allowed to take this thing out of his mouth and give him some water?"

Alex sighed. "No. I've got to keep it there or I'll never get it back in him."

"So he needs an IV and some fluid then?" Alex nodded.

"And I suppose he's going to have to live off your sperm for a while?"

My head jerked up at that. "'O!" I shook my head vigorously.

"Yes." Alex said quietly. "It's part of the training. Something he's got to get use to. Re...My master will feed him real food after he's able to tolerate a scheduled feeding of my...semen." I shuddered and hung my head in desolation. This was too much.

The doctor remained silent for a long while as he examined me. He gently took my cock in his hand near the base and peered at it closely. I winced, but his experienced touch didn't send me over the edge. "It looks okay. Have you drained him yet?"

I looked up at the doctor, puzzled and fearful as he looked at Alex. "Not yet." My brother replied. "I was going to do that next."

The old doctor nodded and turned back to me. "He'll need to empty your bladder." He told me kindly stroking my cheek. "It'll be uncomfortable, but a full bladder would feel a lot worse." Smiling at me, he patted my hand encouragingly. I hung my head in shame and understanding. "Now I'm going to put an IV in your hand. I'm sure you know it will hurt a little. But you need the fluid." He lifted my chin with a kindness I didn't think possible. "You'll behave for ole doc Samson, won't you son?" I looked at him for a moment and knew I couldn't say no. His kindness was sincere. He had no motive except to help me live. And while I hated what was happening to me, I didn't want to die. Not yet. I still had some hope left. Hope that I could change Alex's mind. Hope that I'd get back home to Jean. Hope that Remy Lebeau would die before he took my virgin ass. I nodded at him and he smiled. I took some comfort in that smile.

With an amazing spryness for a man his age, Doctor Samson set up the items he'd need to start the IV and quickly wrapped a tourniquet around my wrist. Immediately a vein popped up. "Well, well, well," The doctor chuckled to himself. "Not quite as dry as I thought, boy." A motion to my left made me look up and I saw Alex smiling down at me, arms crossed, a little too smug. I closed my eyes and waited for the prick of the needle. But the doctor was a pro. I hardly felt it go in. And when I looked back over at my hand he was capping the IV and flushing it. Then without a word he produced a collapsing IV pole, put it together, then grabbed a bag of fluid and primed the tubing. The tubing was immediately connected to my IV and the bag began to drain into my vein.

"Let that all go in." The doctor instructed Alex as he rose stiffly to his feet and gathered the unused supplies. "That ought to be enough for now. But I'll leave a few bags of fluid that you can hang in the next few days if he's not drinking water by then." Doctor Samson nodded knowingly. Patting Alex on his shoulder, he turned toward the door saying, "There are much easier ways to make a slave more willing, son. Try a little kindness. It goes a long way."

Alex smiled at the doctor. "Not when the slave's as stubborn as my brother."

Doctor Samson's right eyebrow lifted in surprise but he made no comment. Then he hobbled back out the door. "You better drain him now, before all that fluid goes in." He called over his shoulder as he left. "And give him a pillow to sit on. You wouldn't want to test Remy when he sees a redness or skin tear on the boy's backside. You know how he likes you slaves. Perfect." I was sad to see him go.

Part III

As soon as the doctor left Alex turned back to look at me. In his eyes I saw an intense sadness and pity. I had to look away. But he bent down in front of me and lifted my chin. I shut my eyes tightly. I didn't want to look at him. Humiliation burned in me, and he was the flame. By now I was well aware of how this would play out. I understood what he was planning to do and the
shame radiated on my face. His fingers ran through my hair, but he remained silent. I knew he didn't want to do this anymore than I wanted it done. I still believed at that point that we could both get out of this situation. That it wasn't hopeless. A long time past between us silently. Finally I opened my eyes.

"'Hy?" I nearly sobbed.

"Why?" Alex repeated. He spoke gently, caressing my face with a feather touch. "I've told you why, Scott. And I've told you this doesn't have to be this hard."

I shook my head. "Ah can'" I struggled to say.

"Yes you can. You can, Scott." He murmured almost convincingly. "You already have." He finished, acknowledging what I'd done. "Just let it all go. Stop fighting."

I shook my head again.

Now he was angry and his fingers dug into my jaw. "Damn it, Scott! Don't be so bullheaded! You can't win!"

I couldn't stop shaking my head. I couldn't believe that Remy would win. I refused. And so I would spend another day bound in this position. My mouth could no longer close against his intrusion. Tears began to fall. The liter of fluid was restoring my body, and the tears could not be stopped. I closed my eyes again still shaking my head. And Alex kissed away the tears tenderly. I did not doubt he loved me. But I thought at that moment, he was just weak. I realized later, I was just as weak.

When my last tear was shed, Alex stood up and went behind me. A door I hadn't noticed opened and shut. A minute later he was back in front of me holding what looked like a small parcel with clear plastic wrapping covering a white paper box. I groaned and told him no, shaking my head more vigorously than ever.

His eyes had gone cold again, almost clinical. "I've got to. Your bladder's full by now. It could make you physically ill if I let it go much longer. Remy wouldn't be pleased if you got sick."

He knelt down and opened the plastic, removing the white paper parcel from inside. Opening the kit, he donned the sterile gloves and ignoring my hiss of pain, grabbed my penis and held it firmly, coating the meatus with betadine. Then he picked up a thin red rubber catheter, covered it in a clear gel, and eased into the opening. I tried to shift away. I screamed at him through the bit in my mouth, cursing at him with garbled words, twisting my hips as best I could to stop him. But there was so little I could do. I could barely move in my postition. He kept his head bent over my groin, refusing to look at me, just continued sliding that tube deep into my erection until it hit my bladder. As the urine began to drain, he removed his hand from my member and the intensity of the throbbing lessened. He'd dropped the end of the rubber catheter into the small rectangular container it had come in and let my urine flow freely. My screams had ceased by that time as I felt the release of my bladder. I can't begin to describe the relief I felt at that moment. I shuddered with delight and exhaled with a low moan.

Alex smiled and looked at me, patting my abdomen, then rubbing my belly in circles. "Feeling better?" His voice was cheerful and warm. I nodded, my eyes still closed. But then I was empty and in one swift motion he withdrew the catheter. It wasn't quite as painful coming out as it had been going in, so I only winced. When I opened my eyes, Alex had gone back around me to that door I hadn't been aware of, taking my waste with him. My head drooped in exhaustion. But he wouldn't let me sleep. Not yet.

"We'll have to do that at least every six hours." He said to me as he bent down in front of me again. "And I'll be..." It was difficult for him to say it and I raised my eyes in contempt. I would not make this easy for him. He tried to keep his voice level as he spoke, but the swiftness of his tone revealed his anxiety. It seemed to me that he really didn't want to do this. "I'll be feeding you at regular intervals." As if to bring me some small comfort he added, "No one else, Scott. Just me. I won't let anyone else...do this." He couldn't bring himself to say the foul words, but I knew what he meant. No one else would be allowed to cum in my mouth. At least not this week.

Then he began to kiss my body, sucking in a nipple and making it pebble hard. His tongue worked magic across my chest and down around my groin. His hands ran along each side of me causing a shiver. I suppressed a moan as he went down along my right thigh with his mouth. But with a will of their own, my hips thrust up as far as they could. Gently he grasped my testicles and rolled them over his fingers, still licking and nipping at my inner thigh. I thought about who he was. *This is my brother doing this to me* Hoping the thought would be like a bucket of ice water tossed over my groin. But it only aroused me further. Then I tried to think about the fact that a man was making love to me. That I had had a cock in my mouth and sperm shot down my
throat. No good. My eyes opened wide as I felt that horrible need to explode, to release. And I couldn't. In fury I tossed my head back against the wooden plank, banging it again and again, hoping I'd hit it so hard I'd pass out. Alex looked up from my thigh. Then he stood up and grabbed my head in his hands, forcing me to look up at him. In my periphery I could see his
hardening penis and understood immediately that he'd been playing with my body to arouse himself.

"Stop it!" He ordered. "I'll only put padding there so you won't hurt yourself." I stopped. There was no point. He had an answer for everything. Letting go of my head, he began to masturbate himself, stoking his cock over and over. I became fascinated by the movement of his hands. I just couldn't deny the eroticism in that motion. His long fingers curled around the organ sliding up and over the head, and then back down to the base. Veins pulsed up from the back of his hands. I saw his belly quivering just slightly as he kneaded and pulled and worked himself up. He began to thrust his hips, the tip of his cock coming closer and closer to my mouth, and when I saw the pre-cum begin to ooze from the head, I couldn't keep from trying to lick my lips. But as my tongue came out of my mouth it hit the tip of his cock as he was thrusting forward.

I could feel Alex looking down at me just then. I kept my eyes downcast, but I imagined his eyes hooded with lust. I sensed him wanting to force his way in, but in kindness, he only pushed in an inch or so. And I was lost as his moisture flowed over my tongue. As before, I lapped vigorously, trying to get every drop, until he couldn't contain himself and pushed forward deeper and deeper. As he had encouraged me to do, I forced a yawn from my throat to open myself wide to receive him. I didn't gag quite as much, but when his belly pressed into my nose and his balls began banging lightly against my chin, Alex lost control. He came immediately and I choked. My throat tightened around his dick and I panicked, trying to pull away. But his hands clamped down on my head holding me in position. "Stop panicking and breathe." He said through gritted teeth. I was amazed that he could speak. His hips rocked forward as he emptied himself in me, shuddering and spasming as squirt after squirt shot down my throat. I made every effort to concentrate, but I could feel the retching begin, his semen shooting up into my nose as I choked on his prick. He refused to pull out. I thought he was being cruel. Finally, he softened in my mouth and I took a deep long breathe.

He came out of my mouth slowly, dragging his limp member across my tongue as if to wipe it clean. I began to retch again and again after he'd taken himself out. As I tried to control my heaves, believing my vomiting him out would only cause further humiliation, Alex spoke harshly. "You have to try not to panic. When Remy wants a blowjob, he wants full control of your mouth. You saw how I couldn't put my hands on him. It's a power thing. Occasionally, if he finds you pleasing, he'll let you control the rhythm. But that doesn't happen often, so you have to be ready to meet his pace, whether he cums quickly, or takes his time. The only way to do that is if you don't panic."

His voice softened then as he said, "Don't worry, Scott. I'll get you through this. I'll show you how it's done. And I'll be a lot kinder to you than he was to me." I coughed and looked up at him in surprise. He hadn't meant to be cruel. He was just trying to prepare me for what was to come. But he was getting to his feet, about to leave and his eyes were fixed on the door. When
he looked back at me, my eyes were once more focused on the floor, my head hung in depression.

"I'll be back in an hour or so. Today you'll be..." He hesitated and I could almost sense his distaste at the reference. "...fed pretty frequently. I don't have time to go easy on you. Remy took that luxury with me. I can't with you." He paused seemingly unsure of what to say next. "You'll get use to it, I promise. I know a lot of my own resistance came from being forced to service a man. If it had been a woman, well, I might not have fought so hard." Alex bent down once more to look at me. "It's hard to accept. I know. I've been there. But tomorrow it'll be a little easier. Then the day after that even easier." My hands balled into fists. I wanted to shut my ears.

"Tonight I'll send men to entertain your mind. Get you use to the idea. It's all a matter of desensitization." Then his voice rang with a hint of enthusiasm as he said, "It's not all bad." I saw his eyes glaze as he got lost in a memory. Then they focused again on my face. "Some of the sex is amazing. Remy's as good as he boasts. Better, actually, when he takes his time. When he doesn't just see you as an object he owns. Sometimes he seems almost in love when he takes you. It's pretty potent, believe me. I use to think it was his power to charm. But now I know it's his ability. He likes a willing man. He told me once he liked the challenge of molding a man into a pleasure slave. And using his power took away the challenge."

I wanted to talk to him then, free of this obstacle that encumbered my speech. I wanted to know how he'd been broken. I wanted to know how he could just accept his fate like this. And I wanted to know how my first night in Remy's bed would be. Slowly, I was beginning to understand the futility of my situation. Not completely, but I was starting to realize I wouldn't get away before that night. However, I couldn't speak clearly with the bit in my mouth. So I just starred at him. Not in anger, but not in acceptance either. He seemed to sense I wanted to speak because he shook his head slowly, saying, "Maybe tomorrow I'll take it out. If you're willing. Today, it'll be easier for you to get use to the cum without retching if you're wearing a bit."

He stood once again, this time looking at the fluid bag hanging above me. It was empty. He clamped it and removed the tubing from the IV. On the table nearest me the doctor had left some syringes filled with flush. Alex took one and flushed the vein, making certain it wouldn't clot off. It was a minor mercy. The doctor could have easily inserted another IV, but Alex was showing me some kindness. At least I looked at it that way. He said nothing as he bent to his task. Then he got up and walked over to the door. He looked back at me once, before he left and said with little emotion, "In an hour, Scott. I'll be back in an hour."

I sat there with his taste in my mouth shivering. I was nearing my threshold of pain. Emotional, as well as physical. This couldn't go on, and yet I couldn't stop it. I was trapped in a nightmare I couldn't wake up from. And my mind was telling me over and over to give in. Take him, suck him dry and get released from this painful ring. Soon I was sobbing quietly in desolation as I realized Alex wasn't going to take the bit out today. And he wasn't going to let me ejaculate for a good long while.

Part IV

I was dozing fitfully when Alex returned. The click of the lock must have woken me because I looked up startled and groggy to see him walking towards me with sleek predatory grace. My brother is a very beautiful man, so I've been told. Blonde hair (which had always looked strawberry to me due to the ruby quartz glasses);light brown eyes, that Jean described as golden; a
well-proportioned athletic body with smooth bronze skin; And very well endowed, longer than mine, but not quite as thick. A long time ago, when Alex had first come to live at the mansion, Jean mentioned to me how handsome she thought he was. She described his look as the classic American male beauty, the boy next door look. Like me, Alex had been very thin as a child. But through rigorous exercise and hero training he'd filled out nicely. I never really appreciated how he looked. He was just Alex, my kid brother.

But on that second day of training everything changed as I watched him approach, hips swaying in a powerful masculine saunter, slow and seductive. His shoulders dipped slightly as he moved with extraordinary confidence for a man held against his will as a sex slave. I was intensely aware of his nakedness as he entered the room that time. He was so casual about it, not
appearing at all embarrassed. Pleasure slaves, I soon learned, were rarely permitted clothing. Remy, himself, never wanted his Summers boys, as he so cheerfully called us, clothed. Our beauty was to be always on display. I imagine Alex simply got used to the fact. My own nakedness would have certainly been a source of shame for me at that time if my thoughts and emotions hadn't been shoved aside by the constant painful throb between my legs.

This should have embarrassed him, his lack of clothing. Alex had been a modest man. I'd rarely ever seen him in the nude. But again, I never really paid attention to whether or not he had on clothes. And this overtly masculine environment I sensed should have created an eternal blush on his face. Like me, Alex was staunchly heterosexual. He loved Lorna as much as I loved Jean. And as far as I was aware there had been few other lovers in his life, including my long dead wife, Madeline Pryor. Certainly no men. Alex would have told me. I was sure of this. He could have told me anything. I wasn't prejudice against gay men or their lifestyle. That would have been mighty hypocritical on my part, being part of a reviled minority myself.

At least I thought he could have told me anything. But as he came toward me, ready to force his way past my lips, doubts began to creep into my head about our relationship. So many people, Jean included, had mentioned many times how he felt about me. *Alex is so unsure of himself when he's in your prescence* they'd say. Or *Alex looks up to you, Scott. He admires you so. You can't do anything wrong as far as he's concerned. But he thinks he lives in your shadow, like he can never be good enough*. He admired me, the rigid X-men boy-scout, by the book Scotty, always in control. Of course he was mostly wrong. I did adhere to my convictions rather strongly. But I never felt in control. I was always waiting for our lives or events and crises to spiral downward into chaos. Looking back on it, I guess he and I never really talked much about our darker fears and inner demons. Perhaps he envied me. If he did, he never showed it. Or I just never paid attention.

And at that moment, as he came closer ready to 'feed' me once again, I began to wonder about his motives. In spite of the remorse he so clearly presented, I began to ask myself was there a part of Alex who enjoyed having this control over me? The answer came soon enough.

I eyed his approach warily, doubtfully, and yet with a dawning sense of attraction. His chest fairly rippled as he advanced, the shining conqueror, Apollo, the sun god. Broad and chiseled, his pectorals were lightly clothed in fine golden hair. His nipples perfectly round and rosy. The visor had for once rung true. I could suddenly picture myself running my hands across that wide expanse sucking and teasing the pink buds erect while he moaned. His arms were powerful and tight. Barely an ounce of fat, his muscles lean and angled. So well-defined and masculine. His long lovely hands that could caress me into painful agony held two thin round pillows and a roll of tape. I had to puzzle at that for a moment, before they were swung away to his side as he neared and I looked in admiration and pure lust at his washboard stomach, cut perfectly with a small line of golden down that ended and merged with his light brown pubic hair. And between his legs the source of my torment and training hung semi-erect as if in anticipation of mastering me once again. I swear my mouth tried to water then as I watched it jangle heavy against his thighs while he walked, thinking about the warm thick pre-cum that might slide across my tongue, moistening it like a fine wine. I realized I wanted it, needed it, my thirst never slaked, and I blushed furiously.

As Alex got closer, his brows furrowed and his lips twitched in a curious smile. He'd caught me eyeing his prick, while my face reddened. It wasn't quite a triumphant grin. Just a knowing one. He could see that I was weakening, wanting him in my mouth like a parched man crawling out of the desert. I tried desperately to swallow over the bit and looked away in shame and disgust.

Without speaking, he went behind me. One of the pillows he carried was positioned directly behind my head and taped in place. "Just a precaution." He explained. "I have to be sure you won't injure yourself."

Bending down he touched the middle of my lower back, just above the dimpled hips, lightly scrapping the flesh with a nail. It was like a tease of relief to an itch I couldn't reach, and I shivered all along my spine. Warmth flooded through my body. He then instructed me to lift my hips as high as I could and slid the other pillow under my rear. But when I sat back, I fell into his open waiting hands. Underneath, his fingers began to massage my buttocks firmly. I let out a long low sigh as the rawness of sitting in one position eased. His hands were magic after my long ordeal and I couldn't help wriggling in pleasure like a fish on a hook. However, I tensed immediately when one of his fingers ran down along my crack to circle my anus. In fear, fully expecting him to insert it, I tightened my cheeks over his hand, trying hard to keep him out. He only teased though, drawing the finger in a circular motion around the sensitive skin, then trailing down further to a spot just below my testicles. He paused there for a moment, then pressed down forcefully, rubbing fleetingly across the hollow. I roared against the bit and bucked wildly as blood rushed into every nerve ending in my engorged cock. Alex chuckled at my discomfort.

"What? Jean's never touched you there before?"

I winced, working hard to catch my breath as he withdrew his hands from beneath me. Then his arms came around the upper part of my belly and he leaned in stretching as much of his torso against me as he could. His hardening member stood straight up along my spine and soon I began to hyperventilate with sharp spurious gasps, my stomach rising and falling, lungs never filling enough.

"Breathe." Alex ordered as one of his hands dropped down to pluck gently at my pubic hair. My shaft jerked in painful pleasure. I tried hard to concentrate. Tried to breath normally, but I was exploding inside, one extreme bundle of nerves. I was raw and ecstatic all at once. I wanted to cum so badly, I drew in a sharp breath of hope when one of his fingers tattooed a
quick rhythm on the ring trapping my prick. As if realizing my misplaced hope, Alex quickly moved his finger back up to again play with my hair and stroke my belly.

Resting his head lightly on the outward curve of my spine, after placing a soft kiss to draw out a shudder from me, he said, "You know, he's going to let me have you back here after he's stretched you well and taken his fill. He's said as much when he told me he was going to bring you here. He wants to watch me cum deep inside you. It was one of the reasons he took you. You're going to be my slave as much as I'm his." Ah. Now his motives were clear. Alex wanted to be free to control me. And in this place all inhibitions were gone. Truth was on display as bright as the sun and I groaned.

I felt him smile into my back. "I won't hurt you, Scotty. I couldn't. I just want to get up there. I know it's wrong, but it's the one thing that's kept me sane in this place. I promise you'll love it. Every touch." His fingers reached up to tug my nipples playfully. "And every kiss." His mouth ran softly across my back. I let my head droop then and my eyes closed in exhausted desire.

I must have dozed off for a moment, because he was standing in front of me the next time I was consciously aware. Cupping my chin he lifted my face and said, "Time for lunch."

Part V

I lost track of the number of times Alex returned to 'feed' me his cum. Pretty astounded that he could get it up every time, I wondered how he accomplished the feat, (Did it have something to do with genetics. I was pretty virile in the sack myself. But not that able.) until I noticed how his eyes shifted out of focus once, before he'd even laid a hand on me. Stimulants? Enhancement drugs? Some powerful narcotic developed in this bizarre world of sexual slaves and obvious hedonism? Something that would allow a man to orgasm to his heart's content. Never having been much of a drinker, let alone a drug user, I prayed Remy wouldn't demand its use by me.

When he left me alone I'd sleep restlessly, dreaming of Jean. Being far away in an alternate universe with an inhibitor collar securely around my neck I couldn't feel her rapport and dearly missed it. Every waking moment I thought about her, unless Alex was in the room forcing his way down my throat. Then I would push any thoughts of her out of my mind. I refused to associate any hint of her memory in my mind with this face rape. I feared that if I did, if her name sprang to mind while I choked on Alex's cock, he'd have me. I'd given in. The fantasy would be too great. Like Pavlov's dog I'd salivate at the thought of blowing a man.

Mercifully, after that first forced 'feeding', Alex never mentioned her name. I'm fairly certain he thought about it. Especially after he told me I'd be his slave. Yet Alex was never malicious, or spiteful, or cruel. Even during his time leading the Brotherhood when he almost let me die. Falling out of a plane, thousands of miles above the ocean, we'd been punching and kicking each other, arguing, when suddenly he teleported away. He told me later that he'd seen Storm chasing after us. If he hadn't noticed her, he explained, he would have taken me with him. Alex had just been playing his role for all he was worth. And this one act of seeming cruelty and attempted murder had cemented a trusting alliance with the Dark Beast. It furthered his aim to eventually rescue all those people being horribly experimented on by that vile alter-ego of Henry McCoy. This place and his acceptance didn't change that fact. So he never mentioned her. Just like he never mentioned Lorna.

Eventually, toward the end of that long day, I was able to swallow his semen without retching. I'd been slowly, reluctantly following his instructions without success. I just couldn't help the gagging. He kept changing positions in my mouth, sometimes cumming deep in my throat, sometimes part way down and sometimes in my mouth. He explained this was to teach me to be ready to swallow at anytime. Very few masters wanted a slave who retched after giving head. Quite an ego deflator. I didn't think I'd ever be able not to, so I was just as surprised as he was when he ejaculated close to the back of my throat and I didn't heave. The thick creamy fluid slid down my esophagus and I gulped as well as I could. I prepared for the immediate rolling of my stomach, but as he pulled out his limp organ it never happened. I turned my eyes up to look at his face and he broke out in a bright warm grin. He'd been expecting the retching as much as I had.

Patting my head in a brotherly fashion he exclaimed, "You did it!" There was undeniable pride in his voice and I winced. What a thing to be proud of. "Good boy." He added curling his fingers softly in my hair. "I knew you could." And then oddly enough my lips twitched up around the bit in a contorted smile as if I was so very grateful for my owner's praise.

Alex looked at me for a long moment, thinking hard as his fingers stroked his chin. Then he said, "I think you deserve a break." My eyes widened and I tried to broaden my smile. I dearly hoped this meant getting out of this contraption. My legs had gone numb. My feet tingled as if someone were tapping them with tiny sharp needles. I had a dull annoying ache in my back from bending over slightly for so long. And my head pounded. The edge of the wood plank from the hole my head went through pushed the collar up tautly causing it to cut into my chin and the base of my skull. That time I'd banged it against the board had brought on a throbbing headache that never dulled. Despite the pillow underneath my rear felt tender and raw. My arms felt heavy and bruised as they hung from their fetters. The IV in my hand had begun to sear as I'd twisted and flexed the appendage trying to work out the dead pain. In short I was in continuous agony. A body's not meant to stay in one place for that long.

Alex called for the guards and three came swiftly to his side. "Go get Bert and Ernie."

I could see a closed-lip smirk form on his face and after the guards had gone he turned smiling down at me. "One of Remy's jokes. He never got to see Sesame Street as a child, and heard some theory on one of those ridiculously funny morning radio shows that spouted Bert and Ernie were gay." I made a feeble attempt to snort at this. " But then Alex's shoulders slumped a bit and his smile faded. "He names all his slaves after he buys them. At least the pleasure ones. He's got other slaves named after most of the X-men. I don't think it's meant as a joke. But none of them have our names, as far as I know. We get to keep ours. He likes that idea.

He went silent after that, just leaning back against the stocks to wait. I started fidgeting, hoping he would say something else, wanting him to talk to me. But he seemed lost in his own thoughts and I could hardly make much of a sound by then. My throat was so dry and it was a chore to attempt.

When "Bert" and "Ernie" arrived with their escort, Alex stood up and walked over to meet them. He spoke in a low voice which I couldn't hear and waved his hand at me. One of the guards stepped over to him then and handed Alex the little black control box for my collar. I recognized it immediately and cringed.

"Look," he began as he finished talking to the two young slaves and came back over to me. "I'm going to let you out of the stocks. If you make any attempt to injure the guards or get away I'll activate the collar."

In answer I made some sort of derisive grunt. Like I'd even be able to walk once they let me loose, let alone try to escape.

One of the guards unlocked the padlock while another went around behind me. When the upper portion of the stocks was raised I fell back into the arms of the guard waiting behind me, stiff and hardly able to move my arms. The young slaves released the leather straps around my legs and I was dragged out from under the apparatus. Alex bent down next to me and laid a hand on my stomach. "The bit stays in and the ring stays on." I shook my head as much as I could in vigorous protest but he wouldn't relent. "I can't trust you yet."

Standing up, Alex motioned to the guards and they dragged me over to an odd looking masseuse table. It was a long vinyl cushion, soft and pliable, with a hole cut just below the middle and at the top. I was lifted up and lowered onto the table. My face went down into the top hole and my penis and testicles, thankfully, hung down into the other hole. I sighed in relief.

Then Bert and Ernie went to work. They kneaded and pulled, rubbed and vigorously stroked my muscles back to life. I was in heaven and hell as joints popped and cracked. Circulation was restored to normal and the blood flowed back past nerve endings bringing them sharply back to life. I tried to relax at first and calm myself as they tugged and massaged my limbs, but I
couldn't control the shaking. It was almost unbearable. Finally the stinging sensations of my raw nerves began to ease and I swam into bliss. One of the slaves bent over my back and placed the heel of his hand over my spine pushing down firmly to pop the vertebrae back into alignment. The other took a foot pressing hard into the fleshy bottom driving a fantastic warm
sensation up my side. It was delicious. Very soon after I was asleep and then abruptly it was over as the guards raised me roughly to my feet. I swayed unsteadily in their arms for several minutes, my eyes closed as I luxuriated in the joy of standing unconfined.

I was walked around the room by the guards, slowly at first to ease me back into the movement. When I was able to walk normally without assistance, Alex came over. He'd been standing by the door, silent and watching, little emotion on his face. Each time I looked at him, I wondered what he was thinking. But when he grew silent and calm like that I was never able to read him.

He had grabbed a six-foot chain off one of the tables nearby and now snapped it to one end of my collar. "Come on Scott." He said cheerily. "I'll show you around."

Part VI

Alex and I toured the palace at a leisurely pace, with him occasionally tugging at the leash. It wasn't easy walking with my dick engorged and my mouth held open. But Alex left my arms free, telling me as he clutched the control box that if I put my hands anywhere near the devices he'd use the box. So I ignored the throb, the dryness in my throat and the itch underneath my collar, and tried to focus on what he was saying.

Remy was in charge of the country. Not actually a king. He was called a patriarch or elder. And he was loved by the people of this land. Of course he was wealthy and he owned a good deal of slaves, workers and pleasurers. Alex knew the country was at peace and thriving, but little more. The race of people living here were human, and I assumed we were on earth, but Alex
explained that he and I were referred to as 'earthers'. He wasn't quite sure why. Remy hadn't told him much and none of the other slaves would tell him what he wanted to know. The guards wouldn't say anything to him. And all were more than a little in awe of him. Remy told Alex he was very special because of his mutant abilities. All earth mutants were gifts of the gods, and were only allowed to be taken as pleasure slaves.

"I was a mistake." Alex had led us into a large meeting room that was essentially a throne room. A small unadorned chair stood at the end of a raised dais. In the middle of the room was a large oval table for the council members. "The retrieval units were on the "hunt" for a young blonde male mutant from our universe to present as a gift to a visiting patriarch. Coincidentally the mutant they were hunting for happened to be in the same government building I was in. He was younger. I have no idea what his mutant power was. But we were the same build and blonde. The only real difference were our eyes. His were blue." Alex glanced at me as I nodded. He had light brown eyes.

"I'd just come from a meeting with Forge." I kept my eyes on him, understanding what he was saying. Forge and he had been trying to restart X-Factor, the US government liaison group of mutants to the public. It hadn't been going well. Hatred toward mutants was on the rise. No one in the government wanted to be associated with any mutant for fear it'd ruin their career. Forge had been the one to call me, to tell me Alex had disappeared and his car had been found in the parking lot.

"On my way to my car they appeared. Before I could say anything they'd locked onto my mutagenic signature and brought me down hard, snapping this collar into place." Alex fingered the edge of his collar absently and looked toward the throne. "Then we were here, in the palace, in the portal room." Dropping his hand he looked back at me. "Most of the wealthy buy their 'earthers' through a service. Remy has his own portal and retrieval units. Usually they're more accurate. Much better hunters. This was a rare mistake. They'd locked onto to the wrong mutagenic signature and unfortunately we looked pretty much alike."

He closed his eyes and let out a low tired exhale. "I was dazed when then brought me through, like you. And I tried to fight, but I was too weak and too overpowered. They had my hands cuffed behind me and stripped me in moments. Then they led me here. I couldn't make any sense of it and when I saw Remy sitting on that chair in some semblance of authority I felt relieved. I was sure it was some weird mistake. And it was. Only it didn't help me." Alex looked so tired then, so lonely and sad, I almost stepped over to put my arms around him. But he turned away suddenly as if anticipating my actions and wanting no part in them. No pity, no empathy either.

"Remy was surprised when he saw me. He came over to me immediately, said my name and something to himself in Cajun. Then he put his arms around me, kissed my cheek and told me how sorry he was I had gotten mixed up in his plans. He gestured to the guards and started reprimanding them. One of the retrieval units said, "One 'earther' mutant's just as good as another." Then he shoved me hard down to my knees. Remy hit him violently with one of his charged cards and said I was not just any mutant, I was an X-man and a Summers. Then he ordered the units to go after the right person this time. They left me alone with him, on my knees, naked with my hands still cuffed behind my back."

"After they'd gone, he pulled me up to my feet. I asked him to take the cuffs off and to tell me what the hell was going on. "Of course, mon ami." He said. But then as he went to release the cuffs this odd look came into his eyes and he smiled up at me. Then he stood back and stroked my cheek saying something in French or Cajun. I wasn't sure. But I understood what he said next very clearly. "What a prize, eh?" I flinched my head away and stepped back."

Alex had moved over to the oval table. He stopped talking for a moment and I could almost feel the rage and frustration radiating out of him. Suddenly he slammed a fist down on the table. "What a prize! I asked him what the hell he meant by that and demanded he take off the cuffs. I was an X-man and one of his teammates for God's sake! He just smiled that infuriating smile of his and told me exactly what he meant. After seeing me naked and collared and cuffed in front of him, he just couldn't possibly let me go. Of course I was too good for any other patriarch. Remy wanted me for himself. He asked me straight out if I'd ever had sex with another man." Alex whipped around and looked over at me. "I swear, Scott," he continued, his voice a controlled rage, "if I'd had my hands free I would have killed him." I nodded in understanding. "All I could do was step back away from him. Remy laughed and said "I'll take that as a no". He came toward me still smiling as I continued to back away. But then he used that damn power of his and stopped me in my tracks. Before I knew it I was kissing him." Alex closed his eyes and swallowed. "And he was...he...shit! He was stroking my cock. I've never felt anything that intense in my life! I couldn't help but respond. He had me cumming hard in minutes. And right after he withdrew his power. I knew what he had done. I knew how I had responded and I cursed him then. Called him every name in the book! He just kept smiling until I stopped screaming. Then he called the guards."

Rubbing his forehead and then running his fingers through his hair, Alex was silent for a few minutes. Still unable to really say anything that could be understood through the bit in my mouth, I merely watched him, waiting for him to go on. But he just stepped toward me, took my leash and said, "Come on. I want to show you something."

We walked in silence out of the throne room and down a maze of hallways and stairs. I tried to concentrate on where he was taking me. I wanted to get a feel for the lay out of this place, in case I ever had a chance to escape. My mind was working in overtime. I was a strategist and an analyzer. I had a good sense of direction too. But there were too many halls and too many
stairs for me to form a good picture of the palace. And with the throbbing in my groin, I could scarcely focus on memorizing anything.

Finally we stopped outside an elaborately carved wooden door. It was an image of an orgy. All men, all touching one another, kissing and pleasuring one another. Beautiful images of men set in a dark oak. I could almost appreciate its beauty, had the subject not been so repulsive to me.

Alex knocked once on the door and a young naked man opened it immediately. I was ushered into another long dim corridor. Tapestries hung on the walls. Again the pictures reflected erotic homosexual themes. Alex led me down the hallway. At the end there was a spiral staircase going down. He pulled me quickly down the stairs. As I reached the bottom step I looked up to see a large plush cell. There was an opening in front of us with blue electric lights streaming from one side to the other. The room was elaborately decorated. I could see a large four poster bed with a canopy directly across from the door. Dark maroon and navy blue drapes hung from the canopy. A beautiful Persian rug lay in front of it. All around the room were candle holders with colorful scented candles lit in each. The room was bathed in an eerily seductive light.

Alex went over to the door and looked in. I noticed his free hand clenching and unclenching into and out of a fist. Someone stirred behind the curtains and peeped through. It was a young male slave, maybe 20. "He's here for training. Another gift for another patriarch." Alex said to me. I looked at the slave in fascination. On his collar I could see a chain that drooped back
into the curtains. "He's a difficult one." Alex continued. "A fighter. He'll probably need to go through the same training you're going through to break him."

I continued to stare into the cell as Alex spoke. I couldn't look at him just then. What he said tore at my emotions. Another man having to endure this torment. I wanted to deck my brother then. My hands even balled into fists. But I held my anger in check. This wasn't Alex's fault. It was Remy who needed to suffer. It was Remy who I really wanted to pound at that moment. And Alex held the control box to my collar. Despite his focus on the slave in the cell, he was well aware of my every movement. I'd go down before I even touched him.

"The guards put me in there." Alex started again in that low controlled voice. "It was several days before I saw Remy again. They left my arms free, but I was left naked with the collar on. The first time one of the guards brought food I attacked him. But he had the control box and I was on the floor in seconds, barely able to move. I tried a few more times to get out, but they were prepared and and they were fast. I couldn't even touch them before they'd hit the button and I'd be down. The light bars are also neuro disrupters, but more intense. Touch them and like this box you're paralyzed for about 15 minutes or so. I found that out on my first day. No damage done, not a lot of pain, but it's a frightening lesson. You can't move and you can hardly breathe."

My brother looked at me then and gave a twisted little smile. "I don't know if you realized...when I was living at the mansion, how I rarely got undressed in front of you or the other guys. I'm not an exhibitionist. Even around Lorna I usually covered up unless we were in bed." I nodded as if to say I remembered. "She use to laugh and tell me I had a great body and...well...but that time in the orphanage really brought out a modest streak in me." I twisted my lips up in a slight empathetic smile. I understood perfectly well his antipathy toward exhibitionism. I was pretty much the same way. There'd been little to no privacy and some of the other boys could be rather cruel.

Alex nodded. He could see I understood. "Well, those first few days, I covered myself with one of the bed sheets or anything I could use. Every time one of the guards saw this they'd hit the button on the control box. After a while they got tired of me rebelling and just stripped the room of anything that I could use to cover up. Shit, it was embarrassing! Anyone who came down here could see everything." He shook his head remembering the shame it caused him. A sudden wave of sympathy came over me then and I put a hand on his shoulder. Alex shrugged it off angrily. "Don't pity me, Scott." He quipped. "You're in the same boat." I stepped back with some resentment dropping my hands to my sides. But he was right, of course. I nodded.

After a few silent minutes he continued. "Two, maybe three days later, Remy came to see me. He apologized for keeping me waiting. I lunged at him. But he deflected my attack easily. And one of the guards hit the control panel on the collar. When I was lying on the floor hardly able to move, Remy bent down next to me and said, "Cher, that's only gonna make me want you more. Don't make this harder than it has to be." Then he ran a finger down my back and pulled me over into his arms. All I could do was lie there, wishing he'd stop touching me. I was angry and very aware of where he was putting his hands. So I knew he wasn't using his charm. But I was responding to him anyway. My body didn't seem to care that my mind didn't want this." He gave me a quick glance. I could see the rage and shame there in his eyes. "I won't get in to the details. Suffice it to say, Remy's as good as his boasts."

"After that he came to my cell several times a day. I realized quickly he was trying to seduce me. He kept telling me there wasn't any shame in what he wanted. I was a very attractive man. And he knew by the way my body responded, how my dick became erect at his touch, that I found him attractive. I just kept yelling at him that he was wrong, that this whole situation was just plain sick. And I kept attacking him. And the guard kept using the box. And then Remy would jack me off again. I was so disgusted by it all, I can't begin to tell you how much I hated him." Alex looked back at the slave in the cell and swallowed hard. "He finally got the picture that his seduction wasn't going to work. I wasn't going to cooperate willingly. So then he started in with his charm power. The first night he used it was the first night he fucked me." Alex snarled as he said this. The sex might have been amazing, but he still wasn't completely under Remy's spell. He resented what had been done, what he'd been forced to do. But still, he wasn't fighting anymore. I suppressed a shudder wondering how Remy had been able to break my brother in so completely. How had he made him so compliant? Alex's tone told me how much he still hated being a slave, but his actions proved otherwise. I turned my head to peer in at the captive on the bed, while in my periphery I studied my brother.

"I have to admit," Alex said after a moment or two, "once I got over the initial pain, the sex was unbelievable. Like I said, he's as good as he claims. But once he let down his concentration and the charm wore off, I realized what I'd done. What he had done to me. I went after him again. I really wanted to kill him, Scott. I really did. He figured it out soon enough that it was going to take more than his charm power and prowess to break me. That's when he had me taken to the 'play room' and seriously trained. Like I'm doing to you." He looked down at my cock then and placed a finger on the head. I jumped back before he could place more of his hand there, but he just dropped it back to his side and said, "I can't tell you the rest. Remy might
tell you about it later. But it's like I said before, he'll find your weakness and use it without hesitation." I blinked at him, wondering what weak point in him Remy had found and exploited. But before I could even come up with an answer, Alex was tugging a bit roughly on my leash and heading back up the spiral stairs.

Back down the long narrow hall we went until we reached a side hall I hadn't noticed. A large tapestry covered the entrance. He led me through it into another long hallway. This time I could see openings along the passage. As we passed by I saw men lounging on daybeds sleeping or talking to one another or engaged in other activities that caused me to look away immediately. Some of the rooms were blocked by curtains. I heard moans and sighs coming from them. Once I heard a scream. Whether from pleasure or pain, I wasn't certain. I could feel my face flush a bright red. Glancing up at Alex I saw him looking at me with a certain amount of smugness. I looked away quickly in anger damning him for enjoying my embarrassment.

Finally after a few more turns and passageways we arrived at a large room. In the center was a square pit two steps deep and about ten feet wide. It was full of lush intricately designed pillows. The room was carpeted in a soft feather-like fabric with well over a hundred more pillows in various shapes and sizes. And two king-sized beds stood opposite one another on the East and West walls. I could see cuffs and iron loops adorning the beds and several chains coming from the headboards.

Alex let me take in the room for several minutes before leading me across to another door. Stepping through I saw it was a large communal bathroom. Two huge tubs sat in the center, showers off to the left and urinals and toilets to the right. No stalls, no doors. Everything open for viewing. I turned my head slightly to the side and down and shuddered. My brother said nothing, but tugged on the leash and led me over to a urinal. "Stay here." He ordered me. "I'll be right back." Dropping the chain, he turned away, then paused and turning back, put a hand on my shoulder. "This box has a mile radius. We'd find you before the effects wore off, Scott. I don't think you could find your way to the portal room before I hit the switch." I looked back over my shoulder at him and nodded. He knew me well enough to know I'd thought of running the minute he'd said he was leaving me alone unrestrained.

He was back in a moment with the catheter kit and a rolling table. When I saw it, I stepped back flinching, but Alex pulled me back over to the urinal gently without a word. I sighed, compliant. Well-aware how jumpy I'd be when he drained me standing up, Alex stood behind me, readied the supplies, sterilized my penis and steadied me from behind with his body while he inserted the agonizing red catheter and drained my bladder for a second time. I hung my head and grabbed both his arms when he did this, trembling and curling my toes on the cool tiled floor, trying to hold myself still. I knew there was no way he wasn't going let me out of this penile device, so I needed him to empty me. It only took a moment or two, but I could feel his engorged cock pushing against my spine, and it added to my humiliation and excitement even more. He said nothing when he withdrew the catheter and I sighed in relief. I fell back slightly and he caught me wrapping my torso firmly in his arms. I felt his warm breathe on the back of my neck, and my trembling which hadn't ceased, increased. Then I felt my knees turn to water when his lips brushed my skin. I tried to struggle, fight against his caress, but I was raw with a need that hadn't been released in so long. He lowered me to the floor, arms still holding me tight, lips and tongue trailing across my neck drawing a restrained groan from my open mouth.

In a moment he had me on my hands and knees, running his tongue down my spine. He swiped a finger along the crack of my ass and probed the anus gently. I bucked back into him and suddenly felt the head of his penis pressed against my opening. I seriously panicked then and pushed up violently throwing him back. As I scrambled to my feet, I noticed the control box he'd
left on the rolling table. I grabbed it and spun around, running hard into Alex, who'd quickly recovered from my throw. His face was contorted in rage and without a word his hand came down to twist my cock mercilessly. I screamed and dropped the box, falling to the floor in fetal position clutching my testicles and penis. My brother stood over me with gritted teeth.

"You better not even think of trying that on Remy," He hissed. I looked up at him through tears.

"'eeeemy!" I tried to say. "'ou can'....'ot...'ot 'ow!"

Alex shook his head. "I know that Scott! You think I don't?!" I just stared at him trying to swallow. I didn't know. I'd panicked, not trusting him to control himself. Wearily I dropped my face back onto the tile and closed my eyes.

"I wanted to." His voice was calmer when he spoke again. "But I know I can't. Remy'd be royally pissed and I can't afford to incur his anger. But I need you to have some idea how it'll feel so you don't panic."

He took my arm and pulled me to my feet. I was unsteady, so he held my shoulders until I'd recovered enough to stand on my own. "Damn it, Scott! What'd you think?" He asked as he steadied me. "That I'd rape you? That I'd take you without preparing you first? You think I'd be that cruel?" I dropped my head refusing to look at him. I didn't trust him. His brows creased and he
bent his head down to catch my eyes. "You don't trust me, but you've got to!" He shook me slightly. "You've got to, Scott! If you don't he'll go af..." Alex caught himself then and I looked up sharply, trying to figure out what he'd been about to give away. It was Alex's turn to avoid my look as he pulled me into his arms again. "I just want you to be prepared. I wasn't and it scared the hell out me. If Remy hadn't been using his charm, I would have done the same thing. It's a whole lot worse when you're not ready for it. For the feel. It's easy to panic." He pushed me back then, but still held my shoulders. "And one of the guards has a back up control box. One that activates every collar in this palace. If they'd known you'd gotten a hold of that one, all the slaves would have been punished. You want that to happen?"

*Damn* I fumed. They'd thought of everything. *Damn Remy*.

Part VII

After retrieving the control box, Alex placed it back on the rolling table and pushed the table out through a side door. Then he led me back into the main room. Between the pit and the door he pushed me to my knees. Then he went over to a chest in the room and brought back a strip of leather. It looped around my waist and two leather cuffs attached to the belt secured my arms to my side. I looked at him narrowing my eyes in frustration.

"It's time to get you use to...all this." He said in reply to my unspoken question. "I don't think I can trust you not to fight us yet." I had some idea what he meant. It had to do with desensitizing my mind to men having sex with one another. But I planned to keep my eyes closed. I wouldn't watch. One thing I'd learned in my short life as a mutant with uncontrollable eye plasma bolts was how to keep my eyes shut. There wasn't much a person could do to make me open those destructive eyes. Part of my intense training had been to keep those beams under my control, regardless of what anyone did to me. Unfortunately my X-men training hadn't quite prepared me for this situation. I guess Professor Xavier and I hadn't been that perversely imaginative.

I shut my eyes tightly, with every intention of refusing to watch. But when Alex's hand came down on my penis and he told me sharply to open my eyes, I jumped in pain and immediately did what he asked. I wasn't ready for this kind of torture. "Keep them open, Scott, or I'll twist it harder."

A guard entered the room then with Bert and Ernie. They immediately went around the room lighting all the candles. A lite musky scent began to fill the room from the incense burners. As I breathed it in I began to relax and I wondered if it had some soothing property mixed in. Very soon the overhead lights were dimmed and the room was bathed in a soft sensual, almost
romantic, glow.

When the two slaves had completed their task they came and stood nervously in front of me, both shifting from foot to foot. Alex went over to the young men and said something to them, which I couldn't hear. Then he sat down next to me. "We'll start this off slow." He told me. "I want you to keep your eyes open and watch them the whole time. If you close your eyes or look away, I'll grab your dick. Got it?" I looked up at the two anxious slaves in answer. "You can begin." Alex told the two.

Hesitantly Bert began to touch Ernie. His hands ran down the other's torso slowly. They lingered around his groin but then moved over and down a thigh, caressing each in it's turn. Ernie responded immediately. His hands began to move over Bert. Soon they had both relaxed in front of me, my brother and the guard and were passionately exploring each other with their hands. A finger swirled here, a hand came down there. Rubbing, massaging, working each other's muscles in the same manner in which they'd worked on mine, only with more sensuality, more eroticism. I held my emotions in check while they played with each other. I kept my eyes on them, but tried to focus on other things. However, their increased cooing and moaning distracted my mind from going elsewhere. Never kissing each other and never laying a hand on each other's private parts, the two slaves continued their caressing for about an hour until Alex ordered them to stop. Then two other slaves took their place and started where they had left off.

The next pair began touching each other in much the same way Bert and Ernie had. But within minutes they began to kiss long and deep. I could see their tongues darting in and out playing with each other until one of them drew his partner's tongue into his mouth and started suckling it thoroughly. My nostril's flared as I inhaled harshly wanting desperately to shut my eyes or look away. But the scent of the burning incense mingling with the smell of male sex was overwhelming my senses and I couldn't help but watch. And the ever present threat of Alex's hand clamping down on my painfully erect cock kept my eyes focused in front of me on the performance. If I so much as blinked too long I felt that hand.

As the kiss lengthened, the two men began to run their hands along each other's spine rutting against each other. Harder and harder they thrust. I was so certain they were about to climax when Alex ordered them to stop. Immediately they backed away. It amazed me that they didn't touch themselves or cum anyway. But the only hint of their need was in their still erect cocks and their rapid breathing.

My brother stood up then and went over to them saying something quietly. The two smiled their pleasure and quickly walked behind me. I turned my head to look around curiously not noticing the guard that came up next to me and knelt down until he had a hand over my cock drawing me back around with a yelp to face Alex.

"No peeking." Alex said with a smirk. "Keep your eyes forward and enjoy the show. I'll be back in a little while." He nodded at the guard. "He'll keep you company."

Then Alex glowered at the guard. "You know the rules. If my brother tells me you've done anything other than kept him from looking away or shutting his eyes, I'll believe him and you'll deal with Remy." I saw the guard frown in anger back up at my brother, but he nodded. He had probably hoped he could use my mouth without getting caught. But Alex left him no choice. I could have lied and said he'd done something and he'd have been punished. He understood this. But it didn't really help me much as he used his hand more forcefully and more frequently to keep me in line.

The next two slaves who came in were allowed to touch each others cocks as they kissed, playing with the shaft and testicles, stroking and caressing each other into gentle thrusting motions. From behind I heard the soft moans of pleasure coming from the last set of slaves and I nearly shut my eyes in answer to the thrill I felt run through me. My curiosity had been rewarded.

Suddenly one of the slaves had had too much and he ejaculated with a cry. I thought it was from his orgasm, but he fell back with a look of shame and fear, and I realized quickly that he wasn't allowed to cum and would be punished. Sure enough, a guard came running over and grabbed the slave by shoulder. He threw one of the penile rings to the other slave and gave a
sharp barking command. Then he bent down and held the offender tightly by his arms. The man squirmed and pleaded for a minute before the other slave began to stroke him back to erection. Once he'd gotten him stiff to the point of climax, he clamped the ring around his cock and the slave screamed. My cock throbbed in sympathy. Afterward the guard dragged him over to the wall of cuffs and iron hooks and secured him there. It was warning to the other slaves. And it would be further punishment for the offender, I would learn, when I saw one or two of his fellow captives go over to him later on and tease him into agony.

A new partner was brought in and with the obedient slave, the two began playing with each other cocks once again. I watched in frustrated arousal and thirst as their shafts became thick with pre-cum and their hands slid easily across the flesh. What a waste of fluid. I groaned softly to myself, hoping I wasn't heard, but the chuckle from the guard assured me I was and he patted my dick in amusement.

When the pair had come very close to climaxing, they pulled away from each other and looked over at the guard. He motioned them to go behind me and soon their coos and moans of delight mingled with the other two behind me. I heard a low hiss of relief as one of the slaves orgasmed and I cringed in resentment. The guard's hand came down again and squeezed, causing my head to shoot up in obedience. Two new slaves moved into position.

They began as the other two had, stoking each other's pricks and kissing passionately. I began to wonder how these men could engage in sexual activity with one another and be seemingly unconcerned about who their partner was. Male slave after male slave was paraded in front of me to tantalize my senses, and every one of them seemed uninhibited by the acts. Most of them
even seemed to enjoy what they were doing. I was certain I'd never be able to perform like these men. I'd never be able to get it up, not in front of people watching. But, as I have mentioned before, I was wrong. These were well-trained pleasure slaves. And all of them were young, fit and beautiful. Remy had good taste, I had to admit, once my perspective had changed and I
began seeing men as sexual beings.

The night went on and on. The performances increased in sexual explicitness. All of it would ultimately lead to penetration, I knew, the final act to purge me of my repulsion toward male sex, one step closer to an end to my resistance. The next acts involved blowjobs, long and slow and sensual. I felt my mouth water slightly as one man drank another dry. At this point the
slaves were allowed to release. I had an urge to groan again, but kept my voice in check not wanting the guard to see my response as one slave came forcefully into the other slave's mouth, holding the man's face firmly against his belly.

I have to admit, by this point all that sexual activity was working its way into my head. Slowly I was starting to see it all in another light. Beautiful slaves subjected to their master's will, touching and fondling and sucking each other without restraint. Beautiful men as slaves. My body responded even when my mind screamed no. A light sheen of sweat had broken out over my body. I was shuddering every so often when one of the men thrust a little harder. And several times I caught my hips rocking upward to the motions of another slave's hips. In my periphery the guard grinned.

But then the actions changed to center on the anal opening and repulsion took hold of me again as I watched one slave begin to tongue the crack of another. Seeing the obvious disgust on my face, the guard called one of the slaves from behind us to come forward. "Angel" was ordered to stand in front of the slave being tongued and that slave was ordered to give him head. Basic
behavior modification. I responded sexually to blowjobs, therefore add tonguing with that act and I'd respond eventually. Another hour passed as one man after another came to lick and thrust his tongue into the puckered opening. I was getting tired and the guard had to twist my cock just to keep me awake at times. My body, worn down through observation and fatigue began to respond to the visual stimulation. And when one of the men thrust his tongue deep and hard into the opening I moaned with pleasure. A hearty laugh came from the guard. I snapped back to reality.

"Gettin' use to it?" He grunted wickedly. "Pretty boy like you oughta love licking that pansy's asshole when he orders it." I kneeled up sharply at that clenching my fists. I wanted to grit my teeth, I wanted to strangle the guard, I wanted to deny any feelings I had at that point. And I wanted...I blinked...I wanted Alex, right there, right now. On me, in me, any way possible until I came and came screaming his name. I sat back on my knees taking deep breaths. I closed my eyes and the hand clamped down again. Against the pain I held my eyes shut tight, letting it buoy up my resistance. I let the pain punish me for what I had wanted.

But soon, very soon, the guard began twisting it harder as he whispered roughly in my ear, "Think this is the only way to make you watch? We know how to make men scream, beggin' to watch, just to stop the...sensations. I don't think you're much different, pretty boy. But keep them eyes shut any longer and we'll see what it takes to make ya beg."

I opened my eyes with a heavy sigh. The last thing I wanted was to see his smug face in front of me as I begged.

Another hour ticked by with more tonguing. I was wide awake now, as I caught a second wind. And I was no longer repulsed by a tongue sweeping up and down a man's crack, probing and teasing and entering the sensitive opening. After another hour I began to actually think I could enjoy it. I inwardly cringed at the thought, but it wouldn't leave me alone.

One more step to dull my repugnancy. One more step to break me down. And then there were fingers probing the entrance to a slave. The one probing was given lube to ease the insertion and prevent any tearing. One finger in and out. Then another. The man being finger fucked began to rock back and forth in pleasure. He moaned and wriggled asking for more and deeper. The other obliged, placing a third finger beside the two and pushing in forcefully. My breath came rapidly, with short gulps. They were so close to full penetration I could hardly stand the anticipation. I wanted to yell at them to get on with it. But then I looked at the other slave's face, the one being fucked and I became mesmerized by his look of bliss as he shuddered and spasmed without ejaculating.

"The prostate." Alex's words came clear and sharp in my ear and I swung my head around to look at him. He'd come up beside me and replaced the guard without me even aware. "Watch." He said to me, gesturing to the two slaves. One of his hands ran up and down my spine, causing me to shudder like the slave in front of me. "It's what makes it so enjoyable a good deal of the time." He spoke quietly. "You'll see." I could feel him smiling at me, but I kept my eyes forward, not wanting to break his fingers from their lovely sensual trail down my back.

Suddenly he stood up without saying anything and motioned for the guard to take his place. I sighed in disappointment at the loss of contact, but continued to look at the men in front of me, not wanting to incur the pain of disobedience. I had the urge to look around, curious to see if Alex was still in the room. Wondering if he was being served by one of the slaves behind me.
So many moans and sighs of lust and desire assailed me from behind, but I didn't hear my brother's voice.

Complete penetration came shortly afterward. Two new "fresh" young slaves were brought in, these more handsome than any of the others. One was blonde and lithe. The other had reddish-brown hair similar to mine. I swallowed as best I could. Alex had obviously planned this little performance. Mirror images of what he wanted to do to me. And it was unbelievably erotic to watch as the blonde bent the other down on his knees then lubed him well, stretching his opening in preparation. I watched entranced as he began to fist his own thick member with slow, even stokes, coating it well with the lube. Finally he was ready. Placing the head of his penis to the entrance, he pushed in very slowly.

Part VIII

Without warning I was dragged forward and my head was shoved down close to the penetration. I struggled for several moments but was unable to push myself away from the slaves. I watched in close painful proximity as the cock drove deeper and deeper into the other body. The scent of sex wafted past my nostrils as they flared, trying to take a good breath. With a soft moan from above me, the testicles of the penetrating slave met the buttocks of the other slave. Then he pulled out quickly. A few thrusts later and suddenly the hand holding my head was pulled roughly away. I fell back on my rear and then scrambled back even further when I saw Alex crack the guard across his face. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" He yelled.

The insolent man rubbed his jaw as a small trickle of blood ran from his corner of his mouth. Shrugging his shoulders he said, "Thought he might enjoy it more up close and personal."

My brother looked about ready to hit him again. "Get the FUCK out of here! You're only screwing things up!" The guard turned on his heel muttering something. "And don't think Remy's not going to hear about this!" Alex shouted after the departing back. Shaking his head, he walked over to me and crouched down. Wary, I flinched away. But he took me into his arms.

"Sorry, bro. Some of the guards don't particularly like baby-sitting pleasure slaves." He soothed, hugging me tightly. "I wish I could stop now, but his actions might put your training behind. You're doing okay, though. Just relax and watch." His hand drifted very lightly over my throbbing cock. "Just watch."

The two slaves who'd been interrupted by the incident, quickly recovered and picked up from where they left off. I glared at the exhibition in front of me, anger strengthening my will for the moment. But as the slave penetrating the other reached down and began to stroke his partner's prick with a powerful loving caress, Alex opened the ring around my penis and copied the
image in front of us. My eyes went wide and all feelings of anger vanished as I thrust violently against his firm grip, almost throwing my hip out of socket. In three strokes I came, crying out in pleasure that bordered on pain. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest from the fury of my release and I thought I would die from the orgasm. It seemed to go on forever.

But too soon it was over and I was trembling in my brother's arms in the afterglow. His breath rang soothingly against my ear, his words warm and kind. "Shhh...Scott. There...You did good. You've done really well. Shhh..." And on and on he went until I relaxed into him, feeling his own penis twitching hard against my spine.

Part IX

I lay there for a long glorious time in my brother's arms, my cock limp from release, my eyes still ordered to focus on the ongoing sexual performances in front of me. The threat of the penile ring being replaced lingered over me as it sat discarded next to Alex's thigh. Two more slaves came to fuck in front of us. Then three were brought in together. And after each session the slaves were allowed to join their fellow performers behind me, to indulge in whatever act of debauchery they pleased. Moans and grunts, sighs and gasps filled the room. And occasionally a scream or plea arose from the poor shackled offender, as one or two of the crueler slaves went to torment him.

I was lost in the sight and sounds and smells of sex. My will to resist was beginning to fracture under the onslaught of this desensitization. Yet Alex wasn't nearly swayed by my passivity. He knew me too well.

At first he only held me, and I thrilled in his embrace, astonished at my own feelings. It felt as if I lay in my lover's arms, warm and protected. Desperately I tried not to think of Jean, and for the most part succeeded. He was only my brother, my lover. Even the heat of his erection, tightly pressed against my back was comforting. He was controlling his own urges.

But as the minutes wore on his hands began to explore my fettered body. A hand would brush a nipple and tease it into hardness. He'd still himself for a few minutes after he'd accomplished this small goal. Then his lips would dip down upon my shoulder, drawing a shudder out of me. And his hands would begin to tease again. But while my groin responded to his touch, he'd never wrap his fingers around my cock.

Instead, when the last threesome came to their mutual climax, Alex looked up from a nip to my earlobe. Telling the two dominate slaves to join the others, he huskily invited the third to crawl over and pleasure me. My eyes widened in disbelief as the slave smiled, genuinely pleased. Slow and erotic, like some sleek panther, he came toward me on his hands and knees, licking his lips in anticipation of my taste. I began to tremble with my own desire.

He was gorgeous. Long and delicately boned, lean, yet powerful, his blue-black shoulder length hair hung sweat slick around his face. His eyes were obsidian, bright under long black feminine lashes nearly closed in naked lust. His skin was an unmarred silky olive and my fingers curled in an involuntary longing to touch that perfect flesh. When he was finally between my legs, his seductive smile broke into an irrepressible grin showing perfect white teeth.

"Gift of Allah." He breathed in a low Middle Eastern accent. And I notice around his long neck he wore a simple leather collar, not the inhibitor my brother and I had. He was human. In fact, I realized suddenly that all the slaves who'd been paraded in front of me had worn only simple collars. None of them were mutant apparently.

Thoughts fled instantly as he bent down then and licked the head of my penis. I nearly exploded, senses engulfed by the eroticism. I thrust my hips up, bending my legs to place my feet flat on the ground for extra leverage. I wanted in that mouth. But he continued to only tease me, running his long pink tongue over and around and down my hardened shaft. After he had bathed it well with his saliva, he took both testicles in his mouth, also moistening them thoroughly, jiggling them around playfully with his tongue. It was a wonder I didn't orgasm then and there. When my cock began to ooze its fluid, dripping an unusually large amount down toward the base, my pleasurer began a slow ascent up the flesh with his tongue, finally taking me between his lips. Down he went as I thrust up violently. Then my hips dropped back until he was able to wrap his tongue around the rosy head. I was close to cumming. I could feel the desire for release building up. I pushed my feet hard into the floor readying myself for the final thrust. So exquisite to be able to cum a second time.

Suddenly Alex pushed the slave back hard and my cock popped from his mouth still enflamed to land heavy against my belly. With one swift sure motion, my brother snapped the torturous ring around the base of my penis. I howled in protest, incoherently pleading for him to release me, squirming and kicking in his arms. The stunned slave also began to protest. But Alex remained firm in his action and in his grip on me. Calmly he ordered my pleasure to join the others or face punishment. Under the threat, my sweet release ran to obey, but not before placing a soft kiss on my right foot.

"Mutant. Gift of Allah," he murmured reverently.

Against the familiar throb of pain, I heaved and gasped, throwing myself forward in Alex's arms trying to break his hold. "'O!" I cried, twisting in his grip.

"Shh..." He spoke low and soothing in my ear. "You're not ready."

After that, Alex said nothing. Just held me tightly until I finished struggling. A few tears of pain ran down my cheeks. I bit down hard into the rubber gag trying to grit my teeth and bite back the tears. I wanted to scream why, but already I knew what his answer would be. He couldn't trust me. I wasn't broken.

Yet I felt defeated. Humiliated, I was beginning to notice the men, their beauty and grace, and unable to deny feeling sexually aroused. I was having thoughts that never would have occurred to me back home, safe in the mansion with my wife. I was wondering about a few of the slaves: what they would taste like, how would they kiss, what would it feel to have them deep inside me, could I take them all the way down my throat. Images came unbidden and unwanted to my mind. And the harder I tried to force them away, the harder they clutched at my consciousness. I saw myself down on all fours being taken from behind while sucking eagerly on a cock. I was shackled to the wall unable to stop the men from touching me, using me, sucking on my flesh. The desensitization was affecting me, breaking down the walls of my inhibitions. I knew I couldn't last much longer, and some sad part of me, I realized, didn't care anymore.

As my breathing slowed and the familiar throb of the ring began to dull, it dawned on me that the parade of slaves had stopped. The sounds of passion from behind continued, but I was no longer being forced to watch them fuck. I closed my eyes for a moment, amazed I had held them open during this torment. I fully expected Alex's hand to drop in warning, but it never came. My eyes closed tighter and I sighed through flaring nostrils.

Several minutes passed before my brother finally spoke, and my heart froze in my chest at his words.

"You must be hungry."

I shook my head violently. Not now. He couldn't ask me to do this now after what I'd just been through. But he pushed me up to my knees determined, ignoring my pleading look and the swinging of my head in negation.

Rising to his feet, Alex moved around in front of me, his eyes hooded, his cock fully engorged. He needed his own release. I continued to protest, my eyes still begging for reprieve, when I saw a movement in my periphery. Some of the slaves were stirring, coming over to watch.

I panicked. He couldn't make me do this. Not in front of the other men. Throwing myself backward, I began pushing away from him, kicking out as he came closer, still pleading with my eyes and shaking my head furiously. Some of the slaves began to laugh, a few even jeered. And then two powerful men stepped behind me, grabbing my arms and pulling me to my knees. Oddly enough they were gentle, sidestepping my kicks and never lashing out themselves. But when I felt a soft run of fingers down my back and a tender brush of lips against my neck, I struggled more fiercely, nearly dislodging the two men holding me and almost dislocating a shoulder in the process.

I wasn't going to give into this. This sexual craving, this mindless pleasure they wanted to evoke in me. It was wrong my mind screamed as my body tried to obey. And to make me do this in front of others. I couldn't take it. I wouldn't. I howled incoherently against the bit. And when I saw Alex hesitate, I howled even more, wanting to scream myself mute. I would not give in to their tenderness. *Use the collar*, I thought perversely. Give me pain. I could take that. I could take that kind of humiliation. I could use it to withstand this conditioning. To keep my will intact and to never give into Remy. But this kindness, this soft touch and warm gesture. It could be my undoing. I had to fight it, because it would change me, it would break me
more completely into what Remy wanted.

"Gift of Allah." It was my beautiful one, my sweet pleasurer. "Grace us, mutant." The word mutant was never a curse on his lips. He adored me. And I hesitated at his words. I was breathing hard. I closed my eyes tightly, trying again to bite down. Then I tried to howl again, but it came as a croak and I coughed and retched. A hand slapped my back lightly. "Please. Please, grace us. Allah will look favorably on us." I shook my head as I tried to calm the choking. No. NO! I wouldn't give into this. I squeezed tears of pain and fury from my eyes, keeping my head down.

And then a quiet chanting began. "Gift of Allah, Gift of the gods, grace us, grace us." On and on. Different languages, different names of deities spoken, but in general the same message: Gift of God, grace us." I looked around in disbelief, my mind in a whirl. The three surrounding me suddenly stepped back and I looked up to see Alex wave his hand at the group to quiet their voices. Then he stepped towards me and bent down.

Taking my face between his hands, holding it firmly as I attempted to pull away forcefully, he said gently, "See what they think of you, Scott. They idolize you. They think it's a blessing for them to watch." For a moment I starred at him, disoriented and a little afraid. Then I shook my head 'no' again. But Alex persisted. "Favor them, Scott. They'll be a much kinder audience than any other you'll be ordered to perform for.

The shock of this statement ended my resistance. Of course Remy would want to show me off. Like some prized object, he'd parade me in front of his peers and command me to perform like some circus animal. Once I was broken and fully trained he'd want to show off my skills. Maybe even give private performances for a few of his closest friends. I hung my head, humiliated.

Alex wouldn't have my dejection. He lifted my chin, running his thumb along my bottom lip. "Don't worry. I'm sure I'll be with you for every performance. We're a matching set: Remy's brothers." This didn't bring me much comfort and I glared at him. From where I stood, or rather knelt, who the sub would be was pretty obvious.

Ignoring my look, Alex placed a tender kiss on my forehead and stood up, guiding himself to my mouth. I didn't back away, but knelt there letting him in and digging my nails into my palms breaking the skin in several places. But then his pre-cum oozed onto my tongue and I was lost in the need to quench my thirst and stop the churning of my hunger pangs.

The room grew still and quiet. All the slaves had stopped to watch me feed. But I heard little except the slurp of my tongue and a grunt from my brother. And in no time at all his sperm filled my belly.

When his final shudder passed and he pulled his softening cock from between my lips, the men began to clap and cheer, shouting their delight. Some clapped me on the back, while others praised me saying how blessed they were and that fortune did indeed smile on Remy's palace. A look from my brother finally silenced them and they all began to drift away, back to their own play.

Drawing me to my feet, Alex led me over to the sunken area in the middle of the room. Still not saying a word he helped me down among the pillows and pulled me into his arms, lying back into the softness. My head rested on his chest, my belly pressed down between his legs. Softly he began to stroke my back, my arms, my rear. His touches were feather-light and comforting. Tears stung my lids and I fought them back, not wanting him to see my weakness. But then he noticed the tears on the palms of my hands. Small spots of dried blood covered them where I'd sunken my nails into the flesh. He kissed the wounds tenderly and called for one of the slaves to bring a wet cloth. Then he gently, carefully cleaned the blood away and I swallowed, unable to hold back my pain any longer. Quiet and sweet, laying a kiss on my forehead, Alex began to croon.

"Rest, Scott. You've done so well. Rest, just sleep. You're safe. No more tonight. No more..." Lulled by the warmth of his arms and his words I drifted, vaguely aware that someone had handed him a brush and he was running it through my hair, his lips just a breath away from my brow. Just like I use to do to Jean. Jean. When I dropped off to sleep my dreams were full of her beauty and love.

Part X

I awoke on my side, curled up against my brother, unable to tell how long I'd been asleep. I felt better. Almost content. The light in the room had dimmed even further as the candles melted down to nothing. Sounds of sex still echoed occasionally as I lay there quietly listening. None of the slaves it seemed had left. And I also heard the sounds of satisfied slumber.

Then I came fully awake as I noticed something else. My arms were free and wrapped tightly around Alex's waist. And the bit was gone as well. I popped my jaw twice and ran my dry tongue around my mouth, trying to get any moisture I could. I pushed back a little to bring a hand up, rubbing the stiffness in my jaw away. And when I opened my eyes for the first time, my brother was watching me, smiling with amusement and affection.

"How long?" I croaked, my voice hoarse and my throat painfully dry. Alex placed a finger against my lips to stop me from straining my vocal cords further. Then he gently coaxed my head forward to place a soft kiss on my mouth, offering his own moisture. He licked my lips, encouraging them to open. And I obeyed immediately, unable to resist the temptation. I pulled his
tongue in deep, drinking all he had to give. When he pulled away I moaned at the loss.

"There's more, Scotty. More you can have, if you're willing." I sighed, knowing what he meant. Alex brushed a lock of my hair back behind an ear with his fingers. "Come on Scott. You know you can't win. Do it...for me. And I'll let you have some water." I cocked my eyebrow up suspicious. But he gave a sharp nod with a mischievous grin. "Honest. Real water."

"Fuck." I sat up and looked at his cock bobbing slightly against his stomach as he shifted onto his back. It began to harden under my gaze as if it already knew I'd give in.

"Why don't you fight this, Alex?" I asked looking back at his face.

He sighed, lifting up on his elbows. "I've already told you. He's won. He's used my weakness against me."

I shook my head. "I can't believe that! You're stronger than this! Stronger than..."

"No!" Alex cut me off sharply and I heard the bitterness in his voice. "I'm not that strong. And neither are you." He turned his head away and plucked thoughtfully at a pillow. I watched him saying nothing. Finally he looked back at me. "I've tried. I've come up with every possible plan to escape. But he's a thief. A thief, Scott. He's one step ahead. Always. He's already
conceived every plan I've ever come up with, so he already has it countered." Alex ran a finger across the rim of his collar. "I can't get close to anything that could cut this off without taking my head. And while Remy gives me a good deal of freedom in this castle given the circumstance, the collar has a locating device. And a program to activate if I step off the grounds.

He grew silent, brooding.

"What about the portal?" I suggested. "Can you go through it?"

"I never tried." He replied.

"Are you saying no one's ever told you what would happen?" I frowned. Surely there'd be rules for us, things we were told we couldn't do and why.

Alex rubbed his forehead in irritation. "No one tells me anything. Most of what I found out about this place I found out the hard way."

"But..." I began.

"No!" He barked through gritted teeth, causing me to flinch back. "I'm not getting out of here. Period. The best I can hope for is that he'll get tired of me and let me go home. Same goes for you." He looked at me hard as he made this last remark, then his eyes sparked in anger. "Now do you want that water or do I have to put the bit back in?"

"Fuck." Came my instant reply. Then, "Will you take this fucking ring off?"

His eyes softened, but he shook his head. "You're just not ready. You've got a lot to learn and I don't have much time." I dropped my head, turning it away from him and closed my eyes in disgust. I felt a hand come down on my neck and shoulder. "But if you cooperate, maybe I'll release it for a while today. Let you pee on your own."

I didn't open my eyes then, or respond for several minutes. Finally I inhaled with another curse, "Fuck", and bent to lick the tip of Alex's cock just as I'd seen my beautiful one do. Some of the men began to move closer to watch. I flushed, still extremely uncomfortable being observed having sex, let alone giving head. But I kept at my task, taking Alex's testicles between my fingers squeezing them gently. *This is my brother. This is my brother. This is my brother.* rang over and over in my head. But I kept licking, coaxing, teasing his penis stiff, watching with some satisfaction, as the blood filled his shaft making it heavy. And hot. So hot I felt as if I'd burnt my tongue. Then a tiny drop of fluid oozed up from the head of the shaft and I was lost in the need. Pavlov's well-trained dog. I pulled him into my mouth sucking hard to draw more fluid out of him. My brother gasped and my eyes shot up to look at his face. He'd put his hands behind his head and his eyes were shut. His face bore an expression of ecstasy which suddenly twisted into rage.

"Teeth!" He hissed.

It took a while for him to release. I needed a good deal of instruction on how to give head. But finally I found my rhythm and soon after he exploded in my mouth with a grunt of satisfaction. This time I could savor his taste. I held the head of his penis
gently between my lips pulling out every bit he could give. Then, as I let go his limp cock, I sat back, rolling the juice around with my arid tongue, moistening every inch of my mouth before swallowing. I had to admit it tasted wonderful after being dry for so long.

Alex lay quietly in the same position, on his back with his arms behind his head. His breath was slow and even and his eyes were closed. He wore a slight satisfied grin. It took me a moment to realize he was asleep. I had to smile, wondering what Lorna must have thought of him, dozing off so fast. I looked at him for a few minutes actually admiring his beauty, so soft and vulnerable in sleep, until I realized he had promised me water. As I moved to prod him awake I was interrupted from a soft whisper above.

"Asleep." It was my pleasure.

"Yeah." I replied turning to look up at him.

He smiled at me brightly as he crawled down next to me. "Tired. He stayed awake watching you most of the night.

I frowned. "He did?"

The slave's grin broadened and he nodded. "I would do the same thing, Gift of Allah." His hand flashed out then to pluck one of my nipples, gently tugging it hard with his fingers. Startled I pulled away from him sitting back on my hands, nervous but undeniably aroused.

"Why do you call me that?"

He leaned into me then, his body stretched across mine, his lips inches from my lips. "Because you are a mutant. You have great power. God does not give that gift to everyone." I blinked. Such a strange revelation from a human after living in a world that hated and feared mutants.

"Where are you from?" I asked, curious.

"Pakistan."

"From earth? My earth?" I wasn't certain if this Alternate Universe had parallel countries.

"Yes. The hunters came for a mutant in our village. Khalid could make things dance without touching them." Telekinetic I assumed. "One of the hunters saw me and thought I would make a good gift for my master." His hand came back up as he said this and began sliding down my chest. He bent his head to watch the movement and I thought he was going to take a nipple between his teeth. I didn't fall back from his hand this time, but I wasn't certain about letting him go further so I asked, "Remy?"

He looked up with a seductive smile. "Yes. He was happy with me for a time. But he needs his own kind. Ones with power. You are honored to be taken. You will be well loved."

I narrowed my eyes in irritation taking his hand away. "It's an honor to be a slave? To be forced into sex with another man? It's rape."

"Perhaps. At first," He cocked his head still smiling, "you might think that. But a few nights with my master and you will be...content."

I turned my head and snorted in disgust. "So I've been told." Then I looked up at him still holding his hand away. "Is that what happened to you?"

He nodded. "For five nights I was taken to his bed. I fought the first night. But then I realized how good it was here. I come from a poor family. Some days I didn't eat. Here you get three meals a day."

Alex stirred beside me suddenly and I looked over holding my breath, anxious that he might wake up. I had the feeling this slave might get into trouble talking to me, let alone touching me. My brother only turned on his side away from us and began to snore softly. Looking up, I scanned the room. There weren't any guards present and most of the others had fallen back to sleep, not interested in me now that I wasn't servicing Alex. I relaxed a little and looked up at my beautiful one. Keeping my voice low I asked, "What's your name?"

"Zaki." He replied. "But here they call me Neil."

Neil, as in Neil Shaara, I realized, aka Thunderbird. One of the newest X-men. It fit. Both men were dark headed with olive skin. I began to tell Zaki I liked his given name better, but he silenced me with a searing kiss.

"No more talking," he said as he broke away. "We do not have much time. And I wish to finish what I started." Running his fingernails lightly down my belly, it quivered in response and I nodded in understanding, still dazed from his bruising kiss. Zaki smiled, pushing me down into the pillows and captured a nipple with his teeth. I arched my back and moaned. But more than
anything he was doing right now, I wanted that ring off my cock.

"Take it off." I whispered a bit too harshly, even moving my hand down towards my groin.

He stopped my hand. "Patience, mutant," came his whispered response. But his tongue began to move quicker down my chest and belly, closer to the source of his desire.

"What the hell?!" Alex was awake, pulling up on his elbows and shaking the sleep from his eyes. Coming fully awake he shoved Zaki away from me and got to his feet calling for the guards.

"No." Zaki said quietly, sadly. "Please master. I am sorry." No crying or groveling. He knew that in that moment Alex could spare him from punishment. But he had a quiet dignity. My brother swung around narrowing his eyes in anger.

"Come on, Alex." I said standing to face my brother. "It's my fault. He came over to watch me...and you fell asleep...so I asked him to..."

"Don't lie to me, Scott." Alex turned his hard look on me. "You wouldn't initiate any of this. Even to get that ring off."

"Please. I am sorry." Zaki said again. "He is so handsome. I wanted to please him. I am sorry." His eyes were so sincere in their sadness, I inhaled sharply. I was close to tears at the feelings I saw in those eyes. Regret, longing, need. Despite having a 'good' life here as a pleasure slave, Zaki was lonely.

"Alex," I said not taking my eyes off Zaki. "There's no harm done. Can't you let it go?"

I heard him sigh and saw him rub his forehead with one hand. He wasn't cruel. He wouldn't like having to punish one of the slaves. But Zaki's action might have overstepped even his limits. Finally he looked down at the remorseful, lonely man.

"You know he's in training?" Zaki nodded.

"I told him he couldn't have the ring taken off. He's not ready." Another nod.

"You could have done some damage here, ruined the training, put it behind schedule. You know that?"

"I did not think..." Zaki started but Alex interrupted him.

"No. You didn't think. And this could have gotten my brother punished further."

Zaki's face grew pale and his eyes wide. "But he is special. He is a Gift of Allah. Surely one such as him would never be punished."

Alex shook his head. "Do you think he wants to be here? Do you think this training isn't a punishment for him? He'd have to go back in the stocks."

I shuddered. "It wouldn't have gotten to that point." I said.

"No?" Alex looked at me. "This is behavior modification, Scott. Sensory depravation and sensory overload. Everything I do to you is done for a specific reason at a specific time. If the plan is altered in anyway I may as well start over." I looked at him in surprise. I never knew he understood psychology. That had never been his field. But I understood the ramifications. I'd been taught it by the professor to enhance my leadership abilities.

"But you..."

He silenced me. "Shut up and let me talk to Neil."

"Zaki." I muttered under my breath.

Alex snapped a look at me but said nothing. Then he looked back at Zaki. "I'm not sure about letting this go unpunished. You should have known better." Just then one of the guards entered. I had to wonder what took them so long. Had they really heard my brother or was this just a chance encounter, one of the guards coming to relay a message to him?

Obviously, they'd heard him call, because the guard said, "What do you want, slave?" That determined my brother's decision.

"Nothing." He said with a glare to the guard. "Just a misunderstanding. But since you're here, take this slave back to his room." Alex pulled Zaki to his feet and handed him over to the guard. "I'll speak to you later, Neil."

"Has he done something?" The guard asked, suspicious.

"It's none of your concern. I'll deal with this problem." My brother saw the doubt cross the guard's face so he added, "Do you want to take this up with Remy? I'm sure he'll be glad to hear that you had a problem with one of my decisions."

The guard stared back a moment or two in anger and then grabbed Zaki's arm roughly and pulled him out of the room. As my pleasure went by me he smiled weakly calling me Gift of Allah one last time.

Part XI

"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 halfheartedly 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 squeeze. 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 jaw line.

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 berserker 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.

Part XII

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 to 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 vengeance. 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
unclasped 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 kneaded 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 privilege.

But I fought Alex on one issue for a while. 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.

Part XIII

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 obedient 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 you hungry, eh?"

My head dropped as I flushed in humiliation. "S'okay. I'll give you 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."

"Bein. 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 eye beams 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 openness, 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.

Part XIV

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 diminished. 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 rococo 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 Shakespearean 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 armoire.

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 privilege 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 a 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 jaw line.

"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 began 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 pickpocket. 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? Young 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 wholly 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 languidly and raised his arms high above his head. Turning away from me as Henri went to the armoire, 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."

Part XV

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 porcelain 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 washcloths.

"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 mischievously. "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 strength wise. 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 boned 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 languid and forgiving. "Oui?"

"Do you want me to repeat?"

"Oui."

"Conditioner?" I'd intended to use it, but the question was raised to measure how much I could say without incurring 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 every time 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 somet'ing I don't like or I feel de 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 every time I say something." Instinctively, I rubbed my cheek.

Remy chuckled and smiled mischievously 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 earnestly 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 obedience. 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 tantalizing 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 taste buds and nerve endings was intoxicating. The tip of his penis was velvet smooth and slick. Little rivulets of fluid ran 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 strained 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.

Part XVI

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 mischievous 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 passed 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 unfulfilled 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, forehead 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 viselike.

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 coursing 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." I 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 incur 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 rhythm. 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 nonetheless, 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 empathetic power, 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 touch. 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."

Part XVII

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 hollered 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 obstinate 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 taste buds 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 proffered 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 restaurants 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 taste buds.

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. Consequently, 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 embarrassed 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 mischievous 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 couldn't 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.

Part XVIII

Remy drew back with a growl. "Come!" He barked. The door opened and a guard stepped in. "Pardon Milord, but Councilor 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 Councilor 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 Councilor returned his affection stiffly, appearing only to suffer the embrace has his duty required. Then he stepped back with a thin smile.

Councilor 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 disdain. He had dark eyes set deep in his head, giving him a sinister look. His nose was aristocratic and slender. Olive complexioned, 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 Milord." 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 Councilor 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, Milord. 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 Councilor 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 Milord. 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 Councilor 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 Councilor laughed. "You have the patience of a saint Milord." 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 councilors 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 stiffly 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. Councilor Escalada's question left me apprehensive. What was Remy giving permission for? Was I expected 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 myself and 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 Councilor'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 supposed to do. But then he liked the 'wildness' in me.

"Merci."

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, Milord. 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 councilor 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 councilor 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 councilor 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 Councilor'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 Milord." 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.

Part XIX

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 suppressed yelp. The collar burned with kinetic power. Remy had charged the device. It was a time-bomb. If he 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 faltered. 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 hear 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 deir 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 rankled, 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 distasteful 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 back-talking 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 prized 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 repentance 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 were turned up, and his lips were 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 soothe 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 obedient slave to keep Alex out of trouble.

Since he wouldn't open his mouth, I glided my lips down along his jaw line 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 wanted 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 mischievous 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 adrenaline kicks in and 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 held 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 hopelessness 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 here 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.

"Bein." 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. "Milord?"

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, butterflies 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 a while. 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."

Part XX

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 in spite 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 semiretired 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 vertebra 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 that betrayal of myself, trying to push him off, to escape that dominating kiss. It was a halfhearted 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 used 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 ould 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 respiration quicken in spite 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 encouragement, 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 jaw line, "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 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.

Part XXI

Hold on, hold on to yourself.
For this is gonna hurt like Hell.
--Sarah McLachlan

When I woke next, I was still on my side, stiff and sore. My ass burned from its ravishing. Languidly, I stretched, my mind remaining muddled between waking and sleeping, and I rolled over to take the weight off my arm. When my hand brushed against Remy's cock, I came fully awake in horror. Reality hit me and I barely stopped myself from leaping off the bed and running for the door. Something warned me that the guards were very likely still posted outside.

So I raised myself carefully on one elbow and looked at Remy. He lay on his back, one arm stretched out to the side and the other hand resting gently on his abdomen. His head was turned away from me, hair in disarray all around his face. He was so peaceful in sleep, so breathtakingly beautiful. No arrogance, no knowing smirk, no shade of anger. Almost childlike and innocent.

I wanted to kill him. I wanted to take his long thin neck in my hands and squeeze until his eyes flew from his head and he took his last gasping breath. That beautiful face marred without eyes, and his tongue purple and swollen through blue lips. I smiled maliciously at that image. What he'd taken from me I could never get back. I wasn't sure if I could stand that knowledge. I wondered if I could ever return to Jean or to the X-men after what he had done, after he'd raped me. I was ashamed, and now, without his power to comfort me, furious.

My eyes wandered over his body to pause at his groin. The desire to kill him was strong, but the desire to control him, to make him experience all the pain and frustration I'd felt as his slave, was stronger. I could tear his cock off. Or at least bite down hard enough to permanently damage him. I was angry enough not to even feel repulsed by the idea.

But as I watched him, another more compelling thought crossed my mind. Remy wanted me. That was a certainty. And in his defenseless state I could use him just as he had used me. My lips curled in a smirk and I brushed my fingers purposefully along the length of his cock, my smile turning wicked when I heard him moan. I slid over closer and grasped him firmly, feeling the flesh pulsate and begin to swell, warming in my hand.

In just a few minutes I had his cock weeping in my mouth. I sucked him deep into my throat, confidence in my skill growing as his fingers wound their way through my hair. Remy was awake now, cursing at me, but his hips arched up to meet my lips, unable to help himself, caught off guard by the unanticipated pleasure. And I easily slipped a finger into him, wiggling it suggestively. I began to finger fuck him hard and fast. However, before I could place a second finger inside, he cried out and climaxed forcefully.

I swallowed his cum quickly before he could pull away. Then as he rose from the bed I looked up at him with an evil grin, licking my lips seductively. A tiny drop of semen leaked from the head of his now limp prick and I reached out to catch it with my finger. I slid the finger into my mouth and sucked it slowly. Two could play at this game of seduction. And if he wanted me so badly that he had to kidnap me from the mansion and force me into slavery, then I'd use his desire against him if I could.

Whipping around with that masculine grace that so defined him, even in anger, Remy grabbed his robe and pulled it on, tying it tightly. Then he turned back and crossed his arms to look at me. I lay on my side, my head resting on my bent elbow, a devious grin planted on my face.

For a moment he glared at me saying nothing. Then he ran a hand over his face and scratched absently at his chin. Sighing heavily, his face now bore an expression of sadness and resignation. "I wish you hadn't done dat, cher."

"Why?" I asked casually, almost sounding amused, one eyebrow cocked. "Didn't you enjoy it, Master?" The last word came out nearly like a snarl. I'd been disappointed that he'd come so quickly. I'd been very close to entering him. My cock was still half-erected. "Didn't you like my finger inside you, fucking your ass?" I added, almost surprised at myself to be goading Remy
this way, as if asking for him to punish me. An arrogant part of my nature felt certain he wouldn't hurt me. He wanted me too much. Besides, I'd given him pleasure, made him cum. Wasn't that what he wanted?

I realized very quickly that I'd crossed the line this time when he began speaking to me in a low chiding, but dangerous tone. "I been patient wit' you, Scott. Let you back talk and argue wit' me too often. I've ignored your sullen looks. But you've pushed me too far dis time, homme. Even Alex knew not to initiate sex. An' never to violate my person."

Tensing a little at his tone I said, "I thought it was what you'd want." I knew this wasn't true, but I couldn't help challenging him. And his mentioning Alex irritated me. "I didn't think it mattered how or when I sucked you as long as you got off."

"You playin' a dangerous game, hein." Remy narrowed his eyes. "Gonna have to adjust dat attitude of yours. I warned you before I could 'ave you whipped. I t'ink in dis case a lashing is in order."

I started at that and backed up on the bed until I was standing on the other side facing him. "You can't be serious?" My heart was in my throat and I knew he was deadly serious.

"Oui." He replied quietly.

"You think I'm going to let you?" I growled, more angry now than fearful. It was outrageous what he was saying. I almost felt insulted.

But then my anger faltered when Remy smiled at me maliciously and said, "Got no say in de matter, sug." With that he strode to the door. Throwing it open he said something to the guards outside and I hit the floor, dizzy and nauseated, and unable to move. My collar had been activated.

The two guards followed Remy into the room. I could see them come around to lift up my limp form and drag me to the end of the bed. But I couldn't see Remy for several minutes. Then he was there behind me and I heard a dull thud on the floor.

The guard on my right lifted my arm up roughly, stretching it toward the post where Remy snapped a gold metal band lined with sheep skin around my wrist and locked it securely to a ring set high in the wood. My other arm was similarly attached to the opposite post. Then my legs were stretched and fastened to the rings near the rug. Spread eagle, my backside exposed and
vulnerable, the guards stepped away and I flopped back as far as the restraints allowed.

Remy placed a gentle hand on my back. "We'll wait until you recover, mon cher." He kissed the back of my neck with a sorrowful sort of tenderness. "Dis gonna hurt. Didn' want to come to dis, but you givin' me no choice. I won' break de skin much, t'ough. Won' mar you."

He stepped away and a helpless terror gripped me. I couldn't move. And there was nothing I could do to stop him. Slowly the feeling returned to my limbs and weakly I pulled at the restraints. But they were secure. The sheep skin prevented the metal from cutting into my flesh, but it caused the skin to itch, tormenting me further. I clawed at the air, powerless. Memories assailed me. I saw the orphanage where I had been disciplined for the slightest infraction. Never tied down, but held in the firm grip of older, stronger boys as the headmaster took a paddle to my exposed rear. Sometimes in front of a few of the other orphans.

The pain was nothing compared to the humiliation and the feeling of helplessness. And no matter how hard I tried I always seemed to be breaking a rule.

The worst time ever was the day I found out Alex was being adopted. I hid in the room I shared with eight other boys, skipping lunch just to nurse my anger and sorrow. When the headmaster found me underneath my bed, wrapped in one of the thin blankets we were given, I was crying inconsolably. He dragged me down to the lunchroom yelling at me for missing lunch and accusing me of being an ungrateful whelp. Four boys held me over a chair as he tore off my pants and proceeded to paddle me in front of the entire orphanage.

And Alex was there watching it all with tears in his eyes, helpless and miserable. That was the most shameful part: to see my brother's misery and to know I was the cause. If I'd been stronger. If I could have hid my emotions he never would have had to witness my punishment. In the little time we'd been there, he'd never had to watch me being punished. And now he knew how
weak I was, how stupid.

After the headmaster had finished, when the boys holding me down let my body drop like a broken doll to the floor, no longer able to cry, my brother ran to me and I pushed him away. I told him to leave me alone. I snarled at Alex telling him to go to his new family. I told him I didn't need him anyway, and I was glad I wouldn't have to look after him anymore. The look on his face was heartbreaking. But I couldn't stop from lashing out. I wanted to blame him for leaving though he had little say in the matter. I wanted to hate him so I wouldn't feel this overwhelming sense of loss and pain. And my cruel words sent him fleeing. He avoided me after that. And in my anger, trying to drive away the pain, I didn't look for him. I only saw him the day he left
with his new family. The headmaster insisted that I say good-bye. I did, but sullenly. And when Alex waved from the back seat of the car as it drove away, I turned my back on him.

It took years to repair the damage. It took Professor Xavier to help me understand my rage and my actions. And he helped me reconcile with Alex. He took me to see my brother often.

And it took Jean to draw me out from behind the emotionless wall I'd built that day.

People have often accused me of being aloof, uptight, and almost devoid of human emotions. Some just said I was shy. Those people would have understood had they ever been dragged in front of a room full of cruel jeering boys, stripped below the waist and paddled severely as their own brother watched helplessly. As I've said, it took years to bring down those walls I'd so carefully constructed to keep the hurt and shame from bubbling up to the surface. I swore I'd never cry for anyone or anything ever again.

And now Remy was stripping away all the years of love and meaning and acceptance that had torn down those barriers. I would build those walls again. Because I wouldn't be that frightened, helpless little boy again.

As soon as my head straightened, able to do more than loll uselessly against my chest, Remy came up behind me. A piece of black silk cloth was placed in front of my face to cover my eyes. I was thrown into darkness.

"Don't do this." I choked out.

"I'm sorry, mon petite." Remy murmured against my ear.

"No you're not!" I accused, gritting my teeth. "You're enjoying this. You were always jealous of me. Of my life with Jean. Jealous of how the X-men respect and trust me. It's something you'll never have. They'll never trust you. And I'm just here because of your misplaced anger. You just want to justify your own perversion."

Remy wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight. "You're wrong, mon amour. So very wrong." I was shocked by the complete lack of anger in his tone. I hadn't even irritated him with my accusations. What I said hadn't mattered. "M'life wit' de X-men is behind me. I don' care what dey t'ink. And as for perversion..." he let his empathy wash over me, drawing a sigh of bliss from my lips. Remy let me feel all his desire for me, his love. I was astonished. It bordered on obsession, but it was still love. And I couldn't find fault with his feelings or see it as perverse. Because it mirrored the love I felt for Jean. "Does dat feel perverted?" He asked softly.

"No." I agreed breathlessly.

Remy stepped back and withdrew the sensations. I strained forward against my shackles, my muscles, now fully awake, became so tense I thought my bones might snap under the pressure. I began to whisper into the air, "Don't do this, don't do this, don't do this..."

But the first crack came regardless of my plea, whipping down along side my spine and over the shoulder blade to curl with a snap against my clavicle. My fingers splayed out in the restraints as my breath exploded from my chest and I had mere seconds to draw another before the second snap of the lash hit my other side. I had little breath to speak or even groan as each lash bore down at different times. There was no rhythm. Remy would pause for several moments and then attack my back with a series of thunderous blows. He was holding nothing back. My head roared and all I could hear was the swoosh of the leather a few seconds before it landed on my skin. The only time I could pace it and prepare.

And Remy said nothing. No curses, no harsh words to goad me or mock me, no kind words to soothe. He talked only with the whip.

At first I tensed, throwing my body forward as far as I could. And the pain was sharp and stinging, evaporating quickly. But as the blows came again and again and again the pain became my constant companion, my back scorched as I was hit over a previous spot along my spine or on my buttocks and thighs.

Soon I couldn't even make my body move forward. My arms became slack in the restraints, the wrists itching even more as sweat poured off them. My body became drenched and slick with sweat. But the bindings held.

As my limbs went slack and my head fell back, Remy stepped up to me and traced a cool soothing hand across one of the welts. "Dat's it, Scott. Let go. Give yourself over to me and I'll take care of you." His warm breath in my ear broke through the roar of my brain. "Obey me, cher, and you'll know pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. Give up. Don' fight me anymore."

I wanted to. I wanted so badly to give in just to stop the lashing. But stubbornly, hardly even realizing what I was doing, I shook my head weakly, denying him.

The whip fell again. But this time a wave of compassion flooded through me. And a very soft whimper left my lips. Remy wasn't angry. Far from it. He was sympathetic. He understood my need to fight and identified with it. And he admired me for it. He adored my strength and my will and my passion. All he wanted was for me to feel the same for him.

So in the correcting he let me feel how sorry he was for having to punish me. It was bliss and pain melded into one. I could no longer tell where the pain ended and the pleasure began. And I could no longer resist. Tears began to flow and my head was full of regret for having caused him to do this. The words "I'm sorry" circled around and around in my head for an eternity before they finally landed on my tongue and I found my voice.

"I'm sorry, Master." I croaked. I heard the leather strap hit the rug with a dull crash and Remy's hands reached around to grasp my half-erect cock stroking it into full hardness. He murmured endearments as he placed kiss after kiss against my shoulder, making sure not to touch the welts that were there. Then he drove his shaft deep into my seared ass causing us both to gasp. He held it there as if to torment me until I couldn't stand his stillness and moved my hips to fuck him. I think he was testing me in some way. We began a furious pace until he climaxed, falling against my bruised back. The pain drew a cry from me but it also spurred on my orgasm. Remy's name rolled off my lips with a husky rasp over and over.

Thankfully he pulled away soon after I came. The cool air blew against my back easing the pain for a moment. Every nerve was sparking in me and I became nothing but sensations, no thoughts. I could feel hands at my ankles releasing the shackles. But I couldn't move my legs. Then someone, I couldn't remember who at that moment, was in front of me on the bed, releasing my
wrists and dragging my body down onto the mattress.

There was a shout and shortly after words I couldn't comprehend were spoken above me. Then murmurs in my ear, soft caresses to my arms. My tear-streaked face pressed into smooth flesh. And finally blessed darkness came.

I woke once shrieking and struggling against hands that rubbed my back roughly and arms that held me firmly. My skin was raw and sore and a cooling gel was being worked into the muscles. But it stung unmercifully. A hand stoked my head trying to soothe my shrieks as they faded into sobs. "Please stop." I tried to say, but it was only a gurgle from my lips. The voices raised above me in anger wouldn't have heard my pleas anyway.

"Damn it, Remy! You broke the skin!" That voice was vaguely familiar and oddly comforting. Blindly I waved my hand seeking the comfort of the speaker. His hand grasped mine tightly and he bent to speak into my ear. "It's all right son. It's Dr. Samson. I'm just dressing your wounds. You'll be okay."

I heard Remy curse. "It's not dat bad. He's strong. He can handle it." Yet his hands were gentle in their grip has he held me.

"I don't give a damn if he can handle it! You shouldn't have done it to begin with!" Came the sharp retort.

"How I discipline m'slaves is my business, hein. You just tend to deir wounds." There was a short pause. "Don't question me, homme, or you'll be looking for anot'er job."

I heard a snort and a slightly amused reply. "You wouldn't get rid of me. I'm the best physician in this country. And besides...you enjoy having someone who'll argue with you. You need it." Dr. Samson's voice grew softer. "Remy, there are a lot of men who disapprove of your keeping Alpha Mutants in your stable. And they'd be outraged if they knew you've abused one like this."

"You t'ink I don' know dat?" Remy snapped. "I'll deal wit' it when it becomes a problem. Right now dey can disapprove all dey want. I won' give up dese brot'ers!"

Dr. Samson sighed. "Fine. But I'm warning you, the men that don't approve aren't your real problem. It's the ones that want an Alpha Mutant for their own stables. People like Escalada who want to breed them. Sooner or later an earther is going to notice the disappearances and one just might find a way to get over here. Alpha Mutants of Earth might come to claim their own. Do
you think you or your army can stop them?"

"I'll take care of it!" Remy said impatiently. "Now finish your work and get out!"

There was silence then and the doctor's hands came down to finish spreading the gel across my back. I felt a sharp prick on my arm. Then there was a pressure and a burn as something was injected into the muscle.

"He'll be asleep in a few minutes. Let him rest until morning. I'll leave some gel for you to apply when he wakes up. But the worst of it should be healed by then. The gel will keep the lacerations from becoming infected or scarring." The tone was neutral, trying to mask disappointment. But it fell short. Still, Remy said nothing. I heard footsteps, then the click of the door and I was alone with Remy once again. The pain in my back and buttocks was easing. However I continued to cry silently against his chest.

"Are you sorry, mon cher?" Remy asked with a tenderness that made me weep harder.

"Yes." I managed to choke out.

"You'll behave now? You won' make me do dis to your brot'er?" A threat wrapped in a tender tone and I flinched.

"No Master. I won't."

"Bien." Remy was satisfied with my answers and placed a light kiss on my forehead whispering, "Sleep, cher. You're mine and now you know it."

I nodded once and raised a hand to wipe the tears from my eyes, my hand pulling away sweat and tear-soaked. Lethargy was coming on me quickly and soon I floated back into unconsciousness.

Part XXII

The next time I roused I felt raw, both physically and mentally. There was a dull ache in my back, but otherwise I was not in as much pain as I imagined I would be. With a groan I turned my head to see sunlight streaming through the window.

Carefully, I rolled on my side and sat up on the edge of the bed, gingerly brushing one shoulder with my fingertips. When I looked up I saw Remy sitting on the couch reading some papers. More than likely, they were the documents he'd been examining last night. A tray with a plate full of breakfast foods, a cup of coffee and a glass of orange juice perched on top was set to one side. The food smelled delicious and I heard my stomach growl in appreciation.

Ever so slowly, I got to my feet. I started to stretch my arms above my head to work out the soreness in my back. I raised them just a little, worried about the damage that had been inflicted and the pain. The muscles felt tight. It was difficult and uncomfortable, but I slowly got them above my head and worked them loose. The tissue was less painful and taut by the time
I stepped forward. When I started to walk, however, I stumbled, catching myself on one of the sitting chairs. So engrossed in his reading, Remy seemed not to notice. I caught my breath and tried again. Painfully, with a slight limp, I made my way around to him. Only then did he look up. He smiled, but said in a soft chiding tone, "You shouldn' be up so soon, petite."

I just looked at him, quietly waiting for him to tell me what to do.

"Turn around." Remy ordered gently. I turned away from him and he ran a hand up the inside of my thigh. Inhaling sharply, I held back a shudder and looked over my shoulder to watch him warily. He was closely examining my back. His hand left my thigh to smooth the skin along my spine. I could feel a finger trace one of the lash marks. My muscles twitched, but there wasn't much pain. Thankfully, it just felt tight like the end of a bad sunburn now starting to tan.

"Just a bruise or two." Remy reassured me catching my gaze. "Broke de skin in a few places. But not'ing permanent." He smiled warmly and caressed one of my buttocks.

"Re...Master..." I began, unsure of what I wanted to say or ask.

"Hush Scott. It's over." Remy said like an indulgent father. "I'm no longer angry, cher. I know you're sorry."

I turned my head away quickly so he wouldn't see my scowl.

"Why don't you go clean yourself up." Remy continued in the same cheerful, patronizing tone. "You'll find everyt'ing you need in de bathroom. I'll 'ave one of de slaves tend to your backside later." With that he dropped his hand from me and went back to studying the documents in his other hand.

I did as he told me and went into the bathroom. Going over to the vanity, I placed both of my hands on the countertop and looked at myself intently. Nothing had changed. Except perhaps for a few dark circles under my eyes. But then those could have been there for years, hidden by the glasses. A week without food hadn't effected my physique. I hadn't lost much weight. It felt nice to be here alone in the quiet to think without the pain or restraints that I'd lived with most of the week. I felt almost normal for a moment. Except for the collar. The skin underneath itched. Not enough to drive me crazy, but annoying all the same.

After a long time of just standing there staring at my complexion and assessing my predicament I still wasn't sure how I really felt. I couldn't pin down a solid emotion. Was I angry? Of course. Was I broken? Not quite. Was I happy? Oddly enough, a little. There was something to be said for giving up control of your life. I'd never have to spend much time dwelling on what I'd eat, wear, where I'd sleep, or how I'd look. So many decisions taken out of my hand and all I had to do was obey my master. My Master. I frowned and stood up. Funny how that phrase popped into my head so easily.

I turned around then to see the damage Remy had inflicted. Several angry welts ran vertically up my back. A few lacerations ran across my rear marked by patches of dried blood. Looking at them suddenly seem to make them hurt. I closed my eyes for a moment willing the pain away. Then I went back to examining the skin that was beginning to purple. Remy had been right. There'd be no permanent scarring. Not on the surface.

When I'd seen enough of the bruises and welts, I turned back to inspect the drawers of the vanity. All the toiletries I'd need were there. I quickly brushed my teeth and shaved. I'd been tempted to let my facial hair grow just out of spite. But if Remy wasn't pleased, more than likely he'd get a few slaves to hold me down while he shaved me himself. Musing along those lines,
I wondered what would happen if I deliberately disfigured myself. I clutched the razor tightly as I thought about this. If Remy no longer found me beautiful, would he let me go? Somehow, I didn't think so. Or worse: he might sell me. Might even give me to Escalada for breeding. Mutilation wouldn't affect the genes.

Besides, if I ever did get home, I'd hate for Jean to see me scarred like that. It'd break her heart. And while I wasn't all that vain, I wasn't completely without an ego either. No, I wouldn't go that far. There had to be away out of this mess that wouldn't create permanent wounds. And wouldn't cause my brother to suffer either.

I smiled brightly at my reflection in the mirror then. I still had hope. Escape was still something I wanted. I'd woken a little afraid that Remy had crushed my hope. But now I knew it wasn't true. I'd look for an opportunity to get away at every juncture.

With a lighter heart, I put the supplies away and stepped under the shower. The spray of water hurt a bit when it hit my back, but the blood washed away easily enough. I kept the temperature cool to keep the swelling down. And when I'd finished soaping and rinsing my hair and body I felt even better.

Finally, I stepped back into Remy's bedroom. He was still reading over the documents. I was disappointed to find that the breakfast tray had been removed.

When he didn't seem to notice me in the doorway, I moved around the couch to stand in front of him. Remy lifted his head then, seeming a little puzzled as if he hadn't expected to see me. Then he chuckled and shook his head. The treaty must have been complicated to warrant so much concentration from him. He beckoned me for a kiss and I leaned down to oblige him.

"Mmmm...you smell nice." He purred and coaxed me down to my knees to kiss me more thoroughly. I was breathless by the time he finished. I blinked when he asked, "Hungry?"

I nodded and he called for the guard. A quick word and then Henri appeared. "Yes, Milord?"

"Bring mon cher some breakfast." Remy ordered over his shoulder. The young boy bowed and then bounded from the room. He returned minutes later carefully carrying a plate piled high with eggs, bacon, potatoes and biscuits. A pitcher of orange juice with a glass was in his other hand. I reached up quickly to take the glass and pitcher from him. It looked like he was close
to dropping them. He smiled his thanks and placed the plate in front of me on the coffee table. I looked at it dumbly not sure if I should start to eat without Remy's permission.

Remy noticed my hesitation and said, "G'on cher. You can feed yourself dis morning. I don' 'ave de time." I looked at the papers he held and then at him. He winked at me and added, "Don' take de privilege for granted. Most of de time you'll eat from my hand."

I nodded, picking up the fork as Remy placed a hand on my head to pet me and turned back to his papers. You could have said I was ravenous as I inhaled the meal in front of me. I ate in a frenzy, half afraid that if I paused for any length of time the plate would be taken away. When I finished I gulped the juice down just as quickly.

"Would you like some more?" Henri was still there beside me. I hadn't noticed and I stared at him bewildered for a moment before swinging my head around, looking to Remy once again for permission. "If you'd like..." He said with just a glance in my direction.

I handed the glass back to Henri, a little embarrassed to be waited on by a child. But he seemed eager to please. And when I drank that glass of juice down as quickly as the first, he was there with a sweet smile ready to fill it up again. I shook my head and set the glass down on the table.

"Thanks." I said.

"You're welcome, sir." Henri bowed.

"Henri..." Remy drew the name out like a warning. I looked up at him, but he kept his eyes on the papers he held. "What did I tell you 'bout coddlin' de slaves?" He looked at Henri then and stroked my hair. "Precious as Scott is, he's not a sir. Don' give him hope dat he warrants dat title."

Henri mumbled an apology. Remy smiled. "You're too softhearted, petite. But Scott must learn his place 'round here. It's okay to treat him wit' courtesy as long as he deserves it. He's still a human. You start to place de idea dat he's more dan a slave t'ough and you askin' for trouble. He'll try to manipulate dat way of t'inking. Comprendez vous?"

Henri nodded and Remy said a few more things to him in French. Occasionally the boy's eyes would dart to me and he'd say or ask something of Remy. A few moments into their conversation he said, "Thank you milord. I'll have one of the slaves clean all this away." Henri gestured to the table.

Remy gave a bark of laughter. "Dat's it, cher! In a few years you'll be in charge of a house full of slaves. You 'ave to know de right way to deal wit' dem." I lowered my head to look at the floor. So I ranked even lower than a child. I sighed softly.

"Now I t'ink it's time for your lessons, eh? Tell de guards to send Cecilia in to clean de table. And 'ave dem get Warren from de slave quarters."

I had to smirk. Cecilia and Warren. He was taking this X-men name association pretty far. Remy had told me that his life with the X-men was behind him. I had to wonder at his obsession with naming all his slaves after one of my teammates. It was revealing in a way. Did he still long for a life with the team? Was he afraid he'd burned his bridges? None of the X-men would have been happy to hear about how he was living his life now. I felt certain that all of them, Storm included, would have been appalled. Maybe this reference to the X-men demonstrated an ounce of remorse for keeping slaves and for keeping Alex and me hostage. Something to remind him of a higher standard of values. Perhaps keeping him from torturing his slaves. I couldn't be positive. But it was worth considering.

Henri ran to do as he was told and Remy went back to his reading. I sat there on my knees biding my time. Nothing to do but wait. Several minutes passed. I shifted a few times. Looked around the room for a few minutes. God! It was boring. My fingers tapped rhythmically on my bent knee. I wasn't use to being idle. Finally, when I stretched and yawned, Remy placed a hand on my neck massaging away the tension for a second. "G'on back to bed." I tensed despite the arousal his talented fingers was stirring. "Warren's gonna take care of your back. And den I want you to rest. I've got to finish wit' dis paperwork and attend to ot'er business. Probably won' be back til dis evening, homme. Once I clear up dis matter, I'll 'ave de time to spend wit' you."

He set one foot on the floor and leaned over to brush my neck softly with his lips. My cock hardened immediately. Remy saw this and reached down to cup my genitals gently making me flush. His lips moved seductively up my neck to my ear. I leaned my head over with a groan. He was so very good at seduction.

"You're gonna make me forget m'responsiblities." He murmured amused. "Go back to bed, cher." Remy pulled away to settle back on the couch, shifting his own arousal into a more comfortable position and holding the papers back up to read.

I moved to the bed, still a little stiff, trying to ignore my sudden need. Unbidden thoughts sprang up in my mind. Images of Remy buried inside me. Exactly what I wanted at that moment. I couldn't help myself. I wanted to taste him. I wanted him to sheath his scorching cock in my mouth. I wanted to lick the hard length of his shaft until it was well-soaked by my tongue and
he could easily slip it into my body aching with desire. I wanted him. I needed him. My erection throbbed with longing for the full and satisfying release he could give.

"Get a grip, Scott!" I muttered, belatedly angry with myself for this unwelcome desire. I threw myself down onto the bed face-first with a muffled groan, thankful for the pain as my erection was jarred between the mattress and my belly. It took the edge away. The dangerous thoughts began to slip away finally and I fell into a light sleep.

There was a soft drone in my ear while I slept until I began to realize it was a murmuring. Someone was speaking to me. I craned my head around to look up into piercing gray-blue eyes. A hand stroked the middle of my back, the touch soft and blissful.

"Wake up, Scott." The voice connected to the eyes said. I blinked in rapid-fire for a moment before I really saw the handsome features above me. Warren Worthington III. "Wait." I thought, narrowing my eyes. "You don't have blue skin."

"No." A gorgeous Warren-like smile lit the face. Had I spoken out loud? I shook my head and looked back up. The man sitting on the bed trying to rouse me was a breathtakingly beautiful blond. And he resembled Warren almost perfectly except without the blue skin and wings.

As if in agreement with my thoughts he said, "I'm called Warren." Running a hand down the length of my spine he added, "I've come to take care of your back." Warren's eyes moved away from mine to examine the lash marks. He whistled sympathetically then, saying, "Boy you really must have pissed him off. He's not to keen on whipping us unless he thinks we really deserve it."

I looked up and around the room to see if Remy had heard this blunt statement, but he was nowhere to be seen. Warren noticed my look and said, "He left just after I got here. Left you in my capable hands." He fingered one of the welts. "Does it hurt?"

"Not really." I replied. "Apparently the gel the doctor uses works pretty quickly."

"Yeah. They have some pretty technical marvels around here. Just no mutants." Warren gave me a wry smile and it was then that I noticed the inhibitor collar around his throat.

"You too?" I asked.

Warren nodded. "Not an Alpha though. I have some telepathic ability. It's pretty unpredictable. I don't know why they think I need this." He ran a few fingers along the edge of the collar. "Sometimes, if I try really hard, I can make a person do what I want. But it gives me a splitting headache afterward." He looked down at me and brushed a stray lock from my hair. Instinctively, I flinched back and he laughed. Why did all these men seem to want to touch me? The intimacy of this place and these men was irritating. Bad enough Remy wanted to fuck me. Now the other slaves wanted to be affectionate. I buried my face in my arms and sighed. Well, it had been pretty obvious during my training that a lot of the slaves wouldn't mind having me in their bed.

"You're that X-man? The one with the eye beams, right? Alex's brother?" That caught my attention. and I glanced back up at him. I hesitated for a moment wondering if I should lie. Then I figured there was really no point.

"Yes, have you seen him?" I asked, now curious about where my brother might be and who he might be with.

Warren shook his head. "No. But I heard Remy let him have one of the slaves. He's probably locked away in his room having some fantastic sex right now."

Alex's favorite, I mused. Probably the slave he'd been so eager to ask Remy for. "Do you know who it is?" My curiosity now thoroughly piqued.

"Nope." Warren looked up, focusing on nothing. "There's a rumor..." He shook his head. "Never mind."

"What?" I pressed frowning at him.

"Look," he answered a bit brusquely, "I really don't know. And even if I did, I'd probably get in some trouble for saying anything. So drop it, okay?"

I rolled my eyes but didn't say anything more. There was a short silence and then Warren's hand glided down my back feather light until he cupped a buttock suggestively.

"Hey!" I protested and pulled away, rolling onto my side to glare at him. Warren just smiled.

"You know they told me you were attractive. They didn't do you justice." He said with a wink. "No wonder Remy wanted you." Warren reached his hand up as if to caress my cheek, but I batted it away. "So do I look as good as the real Warren Worthington? Angel, right?"

I narrowed my eyes at the sudden change in topic. "I guess..." I replied hesitantly.

Warren laughed. "Straight as an arrow. I bet you never looked at a guy twice. Quite an eye opener, isn't it?" I scowled again and he gave another bark of laughter. Then he directed his gaze to my erection. "Want me to take care of that?"

"No!" I snarled, appalled. "Fuck off!" What was it about these men? I suppose it was the atmosphere, but I didn't want to get dragged down into it. Warren chuckled pleasantly. It was easy and infectious, and it wasn't mocking. And perhaps in another time and place we might have been friends. He was as beautiful as Warren, but there was none of that arrogance that Angel could manifest at times. I could only imagine that my teammate would be completely offended by the thought of having sex with me.

I looked away for a moment, then glanced back at the slave sitting next to me. He was smiling mischievously. And embarrassingly enough it was arousing. I wasn't going to let him fuck me, but, hell, if Alex was allowed to have a favorite, maybe I'd be given the same privilege later, after Remy was through with me. Maybe I'd seek out Warren. Suddenly a vision of ebony eyes and thick midnight lashes, smooth olive skin and soft enticing lips swam before my eyes. Zaki. If I was ever given a favorite it'd be him. If Remy gave me some of the freedoms he seemed to give my brother, I'd go looking for Zaki. I decided that the next time I saw Alex I'd ask him about my sweet.

I shook my head to erase the image of that beautiful man. And here I'd always thought redheads were my type. Maybe just when it came to women. I closed my eyes tightly. I couldn't believe where my thoughts were going. I was actually willing to have sex with Zaki. And my cock was getting harder with each minute his name ran through my thoughts. I looked up at Warren. He was looking back at me thoughtfully. "You know," He said, "I was just trying to be helpful. You look like you could use a blowjob." The look on my face caused him to laugh again. But then his face dropped suddenly. "Look. I used to be straight before I got here too."

"Then why are you offering to...?" I couldn't say it, so I just stared at him.

"Just bored I guess." One side of his mouth curled up slightly. "Maybe I was hoping you'd repay the favor. It's about the only entertainment we get around here."

"Hmmm..." I dropped my head and plucked at the sheet. A new habit I was developing here whenever I felt out of my depth.

"I better take care of your back." I glanced up at him suspiciously, but he gave me an open smile. "Don't worry. I'll leave your virtue intact."

Tentatively I lay back down on my stomach and Warren began to smooth the gel over the angry welts and bruises. His touch was sure and pleasant. There was little pain as he worked the medicine into the wounds. In a very short time he had me relaxed and half asleep. I didn't even jump when he reached a hand under me to stroke my cock, whispering, "Sure you don't want me to take care of this?"

I shook my head no and slipped over into sleep.

Part XXIII

Warren was gone and it was dark outside when I next opened my eyes. Someone had stoked the fire and re-lit most of the candles. I stretched leisurely feeling no pain and seriously comfortable for the first time in a week. Remy hadn't returned.

Carefully I rolled over onto my back, sighing contentedly when it didn't hurt. And thankful Remy wasn't home. That meant no demands on my psyche and body. I lay there for a long while just relaxing in the warmth of the room and the lack of stress at the moment. I considered going back to sleep. There didn't seem much to do. But my body wouldn't cooperate.

Finally I got up and wandered around the room. I stopped in front of the ornate armoire, admiring the intricate workmanship before opening it up to spy inside. Just clothes. Then I took to looking in each of the drawers around the coffee table. Just some envelopes and stationary, pens and a deck of cards. Not much else of interest. Leaving the cards on the table, thinking
I might play with them later, I circled the room again gathering my courage. When I felt calm enough I went to the door and opened it.

Two huge scowling guards were posted there. As quick as I could I tried to analyze their strengths and weaknesses, attempting to gauge the success of getting passed them. One of them turned to glare at me. "Back inside!" He growled. I paused a moment before shutting the door, wanting the guards to know I wasn't afraid of them. I wasn't really, but I didn't think it was the time to press my luck. I'd certainly dealt with more frightening opponents. Losing my mutant power didn't equate with losing my fighting skills and cunning. But they probably had the control box to my collar and that left me with one chance to disarm them and render them unconscious before they could alert others. I didn't like the odds.

Apparently the other rooms were off limits to me for now. I shrugged inwardly and went back over to the coffee table. Picking up the deck, I laid the cards out for a game of solitaire and waited.

After about my tenth game, the door opened and three slaves came in with a table and trays of food and drink. They only gave me a cursory glance before setting the table in front of the fireplace. They left as quickly as they had come. Then I heard Remy's voice at the door. Probably checking with the guards to see if I had made any attempt to escape.

When he came through the door, he stood just inside the room looking at me as if expecting something. Finally he said, "Is dat de way you greet your master, hein?"

I looked at him blankly. Then I realized what he meant and stood up, giving him a sheepish smile. "Sorry Master."

I went over to him quickly and brushed my lips gently against his. "Welcome home."

He smiled and deepened the kiss. My knees went weak and I reached out for him. Remy drew me in close, grasping my ass firmly and pressing his arousal against me. A small rational part of my brain was screaming "Why?!" Why was I responding to him so desperately?

"Kneel down, cher." I dropped like a stone in front of him as if his voice controlled my body and my instincts, and everything I did was only done for his pleasure. I knew exactly what he wanted even before he said, "Take care of dis, eh?" and pulled out his moist shaft. The way he spoke hurt, as if any slave would do. I bristled with anger and shame, but I couldn't deny him. I
worked swiftly though and sucked him to orgasm in minutes. After I'd cleaned him, kissed the length of his cock and placed it back in his trousers, I knelt back and hung my head. He was quiet and I could feel his eyes on me.

Suddenly Remy was down on one knee, lifting my chin. I shut my eyes embarrassed by the tears that had sprung up. How could I feel so hurt? How could it matter so much how he treated me? I couldn't believe that how he felt about me made a difference to me. But there it was. The way he'd spoken, so callous and uncaring, had cut me deep.

"Dat was cold." Remy said. "De way I spoke. Did it hurt, cher?" His voice was soft and I thought I could hear remorse.

I found I had no will to lie. I couldn't deny how I felt. I nodded once, sharply. Remy wiped away a stray tear that had escaped down my cheek. "Been t'inking about you all day, petite. Almost came a couple of times t'inking about you lying here all day in m'bed." He gave me a mischievous smile. "Wouldn' 'ave made a very good impression on de ambassador, n'est ces pas?"

I snorted and returned his smile. "Probably not."

He grabbed me then and hugged me tightly, stroking my hair. "Got time now to spend wit' you, mon couer." Pulling me up, Remy led me to the table laden with food. He immediately spotted the cards I'd been playing with. "Where'd you get dese?" I flinched a little at the irritation in his voice, but I answered him calmly. When he only looked at me I added, "I was bored."

Remy chuckled. "D'ccord. But don' you t'ink your time would be better spent t'inking up ways to please me, hein?"

I frowned and he laughed jovially. "Mais, I guess I can' expect everyt'ing. Put dem away. It's time to eat."

Remy didn't take his time with the meal, but he did insist on feeding me by hand. The dinner was a more standard American affair: beef filets, potatoes, asparagus and a light merlot. I was allowed a full glass tonight and accepted it gladly. I wasn't drunk afterward, but I felt more relaxed.

After the meal Remy wanted to lounge in the bath for a while. I found out it was a Jacuzzi tub. He sat between my legs as he had the night before, bubbles sputtering and darting around our naked bodies. But he ask nothing from me, nor did he talk much. We kissed occasionally. Or I should say he kissed me. I never initiated. But they were sweet all the same, soft and affectionate and lazy. Nothing more than a brush of his lips or a brief caress of his tongue. In spite of myself I melted under the gentle assault.

From the bath we went to the shower. If I gained nothing else from this ordeal, I smiled inwardly, I'd at least be clean when I made my escape. Remy had me wash him and then myself just as we had done the night before. This time, however, he didn't touch me until I was rinsing under the spout with my back turned to him. He grabbed me roughly then and drew my hands above my head placing the palms flat against a tiled wall, ordering me to hold them there and spread my legs. Sliding a finger inside my ass, Remy stroked my cock and thrust in and out, easily adding a second finger soon after. Finally he plunged his shaft deep into me and rode me hard. The pain was much less intense this time and he soon had me bucking wildly. We came almost at the same time. As we finished, I leaned into the cool wet tile, resting one cheek against it, once again feeling mastered.

Then it was time for bed, Remy insisting on holding me, spooned to my back with one hand cupping my genitals. I soon understood this to be his favorite position. It gave him a sense of dominance and a feeling of protecting his possessions. I didn't object. On the verge of sleep, the warmth of his hands caressing my skin and the pressure of his body up against mine made me feel safe and loved. I couldn't explain the sensation. It wasn't his power. But I relished his quiet nuzzling against the back of my neck and the soft brush of his fingers along my prick. I refused to admit it to myself during the light of day, but in the dark of night I wanted nothing more.

Remy took me several more times that night. And true to his word, he spent most of his time with me over the next five days. He fucked me often, both mouth and ass. And I found it difficult to walk or sit at times. Whenever he noticed this, he'd give me a devilish leer. Oddly enough I found myself laughing at that look. But then he would send for Warren or one of the other slaves to massage the muscles and apply a cooling gel in and around my ass. It was without a doubt one of the more pleasant times of my captivity.

When we weren't engaged in sex, Remy had me rest. Warren would be called again to tend to my welts and bruises with soothing oils and creams. They were healing well. No scarring was developing. And Dr. Samson came a few times to check up on me. When I wasn't ordered to rest, Remy would have me sit on my knees next to him, or lie with my head in his lap on the couch while he worked, reading documents or writing. He rarely spoke to me. And hardly ever let me ask questions. I think he wanted me to know as little as possible about this world. He didn't trust me. The less I knew, the less likely I'd try to escape.

Twice, during those days, he let me come with him into his study. The first time he had me kneel patiently at his side while he worked. The second time he sat at his desk, but let me wander the room to look at the books and works of art on the shelves. He had books on almost every topic imaginable. I was duly impressed. But what really caught my eye was the inhibitor collar
perched almost out of reach on one of the shelves across from his desk. I took it in hand for a moment, examining it closely until Remy said, "Put it back, cher."

I turned and looked at him, still holding the collar, a questioning frown on my face. "Put it back." Remy nodded to where I'd taken it from.

"Why...?" I began. But he silenced me with a narrowing of his eyes.

"It's to remind me of how fickle Lady Luck is. Now put it back." He replied enigmatically. I did as he said, but it left a mystery for me to unravel. Why would he need a collar sitting on a shelf in his study to remind him of Lady Luck when he was surrounded by slaves with a similar collar fastened around their necks? It didn't make sense. But I let the matter drop and went back to examining the books. Remy didn't bother me again until he was ready to leave.

Those five days were an emotional roller coaster for me. I was bored a good deal of the time. But then Remy would throw me into a state of ecstasy with his caresses. The sex was amazing. He was an extremely skilled lover even without the empathetic power he wielded. However, after the sex I was left feeling hollow and angry and guilty. I'm sure Remy could see how I felt and I was grateful when he didn't press me to cheer up. He was quiet afterward, thoughtfully saying nothing. But his fingers worked magic across my skin to soothe away the painful emotions after a time. And then the cycle of boredom, ecstasy and pain would begin all over again.

I did what he told me to do. I didn't fight. I didn't see the point. And always the threat that he'd punish Alex hung in the air between us like a bleak chaotic storm seen along the horizon.

"Mais, mon cher," Remy said on the morning of the fifth day, "as much as it pains me to leave you, I 'ave to get back to m'state duties." We were lying in bed in the afterglow of a particularly sweet session of sex. I had my head on his belly, my hands crossed on my chest and my body stretched sideways across the mattress, legs crossed. Remy's hand was stroking my hair, running his long slender fingers through the strands. I gave a soft sigh which he interpreted as sadness. In actuality it was relief. It wasn't that Remy was completely loathsome to be around. He had a few redeeming values, not the least were his skills as a lover. But the cycle of intense emotions was beginning to wear me down. When he was gone I believed some of the stress of
my situation would ease. He could be very unpredictable at times. Remy never punished me, never hit me or lashed out physically, but his words could cut. And sometimes he'd let me feel his anger. He'd let go his power and I would be hit with the intense rage he felt. It could be staggering. And part of my guilt would come from knowing I caused him to feel that way.

"I know, mon couer, I know. I feel de same way." He chuckled. "Sometimes I t'ink it'd be nice to just give dis all up. Abdicate to whoever de Council t'inks would be a good ruler and den retire to m'country estate wit' most of my wealth, a few household slaves and servants and you and Alex." It was his turn to sigh, deep in fantasy of a lazy debauched lifestyle. "But I'd get bored after a time." He looked down at me. "Not wit' you and Alex, me. But I'd miss de parties and de court life."

Remy laughed exuberantly. "What am I t'inking? Dis country would go to hell in a hand basket if I stepped down." I looked at him willing him to tell me more. This was the most he'd ever spoken to me in one sitting. I was intrigued. However, Remy just sniffed and pushed me up off his belly. "Come on, cher. You'll wash me dis morning 'fore breakfast comes."

Another quick fuck in the shower and then we were served the morning meal by Henri. The young valet then dressed Remy in state attire and he left with a word and a quick kiss to my cheek. "You'll stay here for now. Be good, mon ami." Just as he turned to walk out the door, he looked at me over his shoulder. "You can play wit' de cards. And I'll tell de guards you are
allowed to go into the study to borrow a book. O'ter dan dat you're to stay in des rooms. D'ccord?"

"Yes, Master." I replied with a cheerful smile. At least I'd be allowed to read. That was something to look forward to. I took him up on the offer immediately. But the guards wouldn't allow me to stay long in the study. I wasn't able to locate a book of history on this country as I'd intended too. I didn't have the time. So I grabbed a few works of fiction by authors I'd never heard of, hoping they were local writers who could give me some idea of the culture in this place. But none of the books revealed anything about this world. They were written about Earth. It was odd to find how fascinated these people were with my universe. The authors were local writers and I learned a few of the names of cities by reading the short autobiographies in the back of the books. But the plots centered on people from my world.

I tried to go back to the study a little later. Unfortunately the guards informed me, none to politely, that Remy's orders were that I could only go there once a day. I didn't really believe them, but I didn't think arguing with them would help at the moment. Better to bide my time and ask Remy about it tonight. As it was, Remy was gone until the early morning. I was asleep when he slipped into bed beside me. He must have been exhausted, because he only pulled me close with a tender kiss and promptly fell asleep. The next morning I forgot all about the study when Remy, having asked me how I'd spent my day, flew into a rage when he discovered that the last time I'd eaten had been at breakfast the day before. I wasn't petulant about it. I just told him
I was hungry. I'd figured I wouldn't be allowed to eat until he was in the room. He hollered for the guards and all the slaves and servants who took care of his private suite, including Henri. I was not to be neglected, he fumed. I was to be treated as well, no, even better than any of the pleasure slaves he brought up here. Were his servants such fools that they'd forget to bring me food?

One of the servants spoke up, somewhat indignant, and tried to remind Remy that he hadn't given them permission to address me. Remy gave him a hard look and then gestured to the guard to remove the man. I saw terror in his eyes as he was led away. No telling what would happen to him. It was then that I realized you didn't argue with Remy about certain things. Even if you were a freeborn servant.

After that I was treated better by the guards, allowed go into the study as often as I wished. Unfortunately, my last assessment of the library had been incorrect. I could find no books on the history of this universe. In fact there were no books on the shelves that mentioned anything about where I was held captive. All the works referred to Earth. I wondered if this was deliberate on Remy's part. It seemed a fair analysis. He wouldn't want me or any other 'earther' slave to gain any knowledge of this world. Knowledge could be used to aid in escape. Information about Earth was benign, because first you had to make it back there. This frustrated me to no end, of course. But there was little I could do about it, so I made the best of an irritating
situation.

Meals came regularly. All of them were sumptuous affairs. Apparently the lecture and warning Remy had given had sunk in completely. Often during the day a slave, or servant, or sometimes even Henri, came to see if there was anything I needed. None of them laughed when I responded, "My freedom would be nice" the first couple of times they asked. And none of them lingered long enough for me to strike up a conversation. It was soon made clear to me that they weren't supposed to converse with me other than to make sure my needs were met. Another way of keeping information that would be useful away from me. So basically all the staff ever did was bring me meals.

I rarely was fed by Remy during that week, which was an enormous relief. He was gone all day and often late into the evening. Almost every night when he returned I was asleep. Except for that first day, he roused me with kisses and light strokes, coaxing affection out of me as I slowly awoke to his tender advances. And then he'd fuck me senseless. The mornings usually hailed
another bout of sex. It was often more gentle and loving on his part. I enjoyed it more. He took his time and prepared me more fully, so that there was rarely the pain of his more savage rapes. Don't believe for a moment that I thought of this as love making. I wanted him at times. He could make me want him so easily. Remy knew my body's responses better than I did. But my mind never accepted any of it. Whatever I felt for Remy Lebeau, it wasn't love.

Part XXIV

I think it was twelve days into my time in Remy's private suite that I finally saw my brother. Remy came home early that day followed by two female slaves. I was lounging on the bed, half asleep, not expecting to see him so early, and he nearly caused me to leap out of my skin when he slapped my ass, hard but playfully.

"Get up!" He ordered cheerfully with a bright grin on his face and a sparkle in his eyes. I narrowed my own suspiciously, wondering what he was up to. "We 'aven't much time to get you dressed for de party."

I was sitting up rubbing my face when he said this. My hands froze and I opened one eye to look at him with a frown. "Party?"

"Oui." Remy cocked his head. "Didn' I mention it?" Before I could answer negatively, he slapped his forehead. "Saloperie!" He cried. "I can' believe I didn' tell you!" He took my hands and pulled me to my feet, full of enthusiasm. "A party for you, cher. And your brot'er. A coming out party, so to speak. De council and my courtiers are very curious about you. De few who've seen you and Alex 'ave been full of praise for your beauty." During the first five days when Remy and I had been secluded away in his rooms, there had been a few councilors, like Escalada, who had insisted on meeting with Remy. Some had even joined him for dinner. And most of them, like Escalada had fondled and examined me intimately, complimenting Remy on his
excellent taste. I'd suffered it all patiently, obedient to my master's will.

"Some of dem," Remy continued, "even joked 'bout stealing you bot' out from under my nose. Not so easy to steal from a t'ief t'ough. 'Course de ot'ers are all jealous and want to see you too. I've been besieged wit' requests for private audiences, all hoping I'll meet wit' dem here in my rooms." Chuckling, he winked at me. "I met wit' dem privately, but in de conference room behind de throne room. Cher, you should 'ave seen de look on all deir faces when you weren't wit' me. De meetings didn't last long, me." Remy's hand came up to rest towards the back of my cheek, his fingers curled around the back of my head. "I probably should 'ave shown Alex already. But when I decided to 'ave you too I t'ought it be more of a coup to show de bot' of you off at de same time. So I planned dis party, mon couer. Invitations were sent out de day after de first night we made love."

I scowled, but it only made him laugh and he pulled me into his arms to kiss me softly. I closed my eyes, weakening under his spell. Lord, he could get me to feel so loved. I opened up to him immediately, letting his tongue slip in, savoring his glow and his excitement at having caused such a stir among the members of the ruling class.

There was a sudden soft murmuring followed by a girlish giggle and I jerked back, nipping Remy's tongue in the process. "Merde!" He yelped. "Watch dos teeth!" Then he saw my flush and the look on my face as I tried to cover myself and move to get him between me and the two women I had finally noticed. Remy let out a hearty laugh.

"Oh come on Scott," Remy chided lightly, "It's not'ing dey haven't seen before." I think I turned an even brighter shade of red. I gritted my teeth. It was one thing to be naked around a bunch of men, even in this sexually charged environment. But to be exposed in front of women was a whole other story. I felt emasculated. Naked and a slave, a pleasure slave at that. "Remy's whore," as he called me whenever he was irritated with me.

Remy leered at me wickedly before striding over the two slaves. "Dis is Meredith." He told me as he took the hand of a short heavyset brunette. She bowed her head respectfully in my direction, but I could see the hard cold contempt in her eyes. I was low-class scum in her opinion. Glaring back at her, I straightened and dropped my hands. How dare she pass judgment on me? Being a slave hadn't been my idea. I wouldn't allow her to make me feel less than a man.

The other female slave was tall and gangly, much too thin. Remy introduced her as Tanya. She smiled pleasantly enough. Obviously these were working slaves. And both were clothed in light weigh white tunics that ended just below the knee.

"Dey're gonna get you ready for tonight. I've some business to attend to. I'll be back wit' your brot'er in an hour." Remy walked back over to me and gave me a quick peck. "You behave now. Do what dey say."

He took my hands and turned his head, looking directly at Meredith. "And I don' want to hear any complaints about you. Scott's important to me. You be nice."

Meredith pursed her lips but said nothing.

"Master I can..." I began. Funny how that word was getting easier to say.

"Non." Remy cut me off sharply. "I want dem to take care of you. Dey know how I want you to look tonight." He grinned at me. "Pretend you're at a spa, cher. Enjoy it."

I snorted. *Yeah, right* I thought. God, he could humiliate me to no end. "Now don' give me dat look." Remy scolded dropping my hands. "You do what you're told and don' give dese women a hard time." Another quick kiss and he was gone.

Clenching my fists, I shifted my gaze to the two women. Tanya smiled sweetly. Meredith just glared. "Well pajo," she said after a moment. Her voice had an annoying nasal quality. "Get in the bathroom!"

"Meredith!" Tanya cried.

The short nasty slave turned to look at her partner with her hands on her hips. "What?" She scoffed. "He's just another pretty mutant pleasure slave. Lord Remy will tire of him soon enough."

"Hey!" I exclaimed in my defense. "This isn't..."

"Shut up, pajo!" Meredith rudely interrupted. "Look at him, Tanya. He thinks he's special living up here in Lord Remy's rooms." She glared back at me. "You can be sold just as easily as the rest of us. Now get in the bathroom!"

"You wait just a minute!" I snarled, a foul curse held back. "One. Being a slave wasn't my idea." I held up one finger. "Two." I raised another finger and stepped toward the insolent woman. "I never thought being up here was some kind of honor. And three," I put up my middle finger as I folded the other two back into my fist. "You don't have to be such a goddamn self-important bitch!" I smiled malevolently when I saw her flinch back.

Tanya stepped forward then, trying to placate me by saying. "Don't mind her. She's just...protective of Lord Remy." She put her hand out to me and whispered, "Come on. She won't hurt you. Lord Remy had her beaten the last time she bruised one of his favorites."

I looked over at the still scowling Meredith. "Why is she so protective of him then?" I asked.

Tanya shrugged. "I guess because she was one of his first household slaves. She ran his estate just before they elected him patriarch. I think she sees Remy as the son she never had."

"Oh." Sounded ridiculous to me, but I didn't feel like arguing. I took Tanya's hand and let her lead me into the bathroom. Meredith followed grumbling.

Tanya was correct in saying the bitter woman wouldn't hurt me. And once I got over the initial embarrassment of being naked, and the two began to get me ready for the party, the preparations were heavenly.

Meredith produced a folding masseuse table and the women began to work the tension from my muscles. They kneaded every inch of my body, including my head, face and genitals. I was so relaxed by the time the two started on my groin that I never became aroused. Of course their looks might have had something to do with that. They weren't beauties to be sure.

After the massage, they ran a bath, making the water so hot it was barely tolerable. But the women insisted, so I got in. Then they stripped to their undergarments, entered the large tub, and began to scrub me thoroughly with a fresh evergreen scented soap. A minty herbal mask was applied to my face, while Meredith ordered me to stand up in the tub. She'd hardly spoken two words to me except to give orders, so I hadn't argued with her. Tanya chattered a bit. A good deal of useless gossip I ignored for the most part. And there had been no further threats. But when Meredith came at me with a razor, I stepped back, surprised and wary.

"Oh don't be so stupid, pajo!" Meredith bullied. "I'm just going to trim your groin hair."

"Meredith!" Tanya snapped. "Will you stop calling him that!"

"Humph!" came the retort. But she did stop calling me a pajo. Curious, I asked Tanya what it meant and she explained it was the word for the waste at the bottom of the sewer. And work slaves had started to use it to insult male pleasure slaves. It was the equivalent of calling me a shit-ridden whore.

I was sorely tempted to backhand Meredith, so I dug my nails into my palms to keep from giving into the urge. Meredith gave me a smug smile. Then she grasped my cock firmly, almost painfully, causing me to hiss and raise up on my toes. I did bring my hand back that time, but Tanya interceded by slapping the bitch's hand away. "Go get the oil. I'll finish this." I breathed a sigh
of relief when Meredith stepped out of the bath.

"Lord Remy thinks she's good at what she does." Tanya tried to explain as she took my penis gently and lathered the hair at my groin. "Most of the time she is. But she worries about him. She worries that he gets to close to the ones he chooses to love and that they'll hurt him or kill him one day."

"Gee, you think?" I retorted. She looked up at me quizzically. Then she bent to trim my auburn hair into a neat little triangle.

"You know," She began after a moment, "Lord Remy's a good master. He always has a kind word for his slaves as well as his servants. He only punishes us when we deserve it. And unlike most masters, he gives us a free day every week and a little spending money. It's a good life most of the time. We're never overworked. I've heard some slaves are beaten every day."

"But you're not free." I said, more gently. She seemed happy. I couldn't fault her.

"No." She agreed. "But I'm not hungry either. And I have a place to sleep and most of the time I'm left to myself. I've seen some of the free people in town. The beggars who live on the streets. The men who can't find work to support their families. I live better than them."

"And if you're sold?" I challenged.

"Remy doesn't sell his slaves without reason. I haven't seen one sold in over a year. Except for that one slave who was given to some diplomat a few weeks ago. The real handsome dark-haired slave." My eyes widened. "What was his name?" She said to herself.

"Neil." Meredith answered as she came to stand at the side of the tub holding a jar of oil. I froze in shock. Neil. Zaki. He'd been sold. "I heard he caused some trouble in the pleasure slave quarters. So Remy gave him to Lord Alcie. He's been eyeing that boy for years." Meredith shook her head. A bleak sadness seemed to descend on her. "That Alcie's a bad one. I've heard rumors that he's into pain. Neil will be lucky to last a month in that household, as beautiful as he is."

I shuddered. Zaki. Dear God! My mind raced with terrible thoughts of what he might have to endure. And it was my fault. Somehow I knew. He'd tried to give me release when he shouldn't have. Suddenly I was seething. Alex must have said something to Remy. Damn him. Zaki didn't deserve that. I ground my teeth, trying to stay calm. But the anger remained there on the surface. Damn him. And here I'd been trying to protect my brother all this time. "No more," I swore. If he could do this to that innocent man, then there was no way in hell I'd save him from Remy's wrath or death by his own hand. Alex would have
to fend for himself from now on.

The anger wormed it's way throughout my consciousness and I barely acknowledged the two women as they ordered me out of the bath. So wrapped up in my thoughts, I hardly noticed them applying a light sheen of oil all over my body, until Tanya began to work the oil into my anus. I tensed and pulled away. "No!" I growled at her.

"You'll need this for tonight." She said. I looked at her and swore. I knew what she meant. I'd probably have to perform. "Please. It will help." Closing my eyes, I relaxed and let her finish coating the inside of my ass with the oil, wondering how much more I could take of this place.

When they had finished, they fastened gold bands to my wrists. Delicate symbols were etched into the bands. Intricate designs that didn't seem to make sense to me. Seeing me eyeing the bands, Tanya said, "They represent the Lebeau household." She turned my wrist for me to see the bottom. There was circular design below. "That tells everyone you're his property."

I glowered at her. She just looked at me sympathetically. Meredith pushed her aside then. "Let's finish." She held up a ruby, about the size of a dime. A gold chain was fused to the setting on either side. She pushed the gem into my naval. There was some type of sticky fluid that held the ruby in place. The gold chains were looped loosely around my waist and linked in the back just at the tip of my crack. A small portion of the chain dangled down into the crevice. I scowled some more at the sensation. It was like having a fucking tail.

"Almost done." Tanya said. Then she combed out my hair into a tidy style and led me to the vanity to have a look. "There. You're beautiful. You'll have all the lords and ladies wrapped around your finger tonight." She paused. "If you'll only smile."

I gave her a sidelong glance and then looked in the mirror. They'd done a nice job, I had to admit. A portion of my bangs hung over my right eye, giving me a mysterious look. The oil they'd applied accentuated the lines of my muscles, enhancing the angles of my body. The soft layer of chest hair v'd downward to my well-trimmed groin. The ruby complemented my coloring and the
delicately worked chains made me look exotic. "Not bad." I thought. And I smiled. Tanya giggled brightly and even Meredith's lips quirked up for a moment. "You'll win them all over." Tanya said. Then they led me back into Remy's bedroom.

Remy was at the armoire with Henri, shaking his head every time Henri suggested an outfit. When he saw me come out of the bathroom, his face seemed to light up. "Mon Dieu, Scott," he said, "you never looked better." Beckoning me to his side, he gave me a quick kiss and hug. "You'll make me proud, cher. Don't disappoint me."

He let me go, ordering me to stand by the door until he was ready. And when I went around the door of the armoire, there was Alex. There was my bastard of a brother. And he was smiling at me in welcome as if nothing had happened. I gritted my teeth and his smile evaporated. A distressed look came into his face. "What?" he whispered when I reached him.

"Zaki." I whispered back. "You told Remy, you son of a bitch! He gave him to some bastard that likes to torture his slaves. Why? How could you do that?"

Alex sighed and hung his head. "I didn't tell Remy. I swear it. I told Neil..."

"Zaki!" I interrupted with a hiss.

"Zaki." Alex acknowledged. "I told Zaki not to say anything. I made him keep to his room for a while. But one of the guards told Remy what he'd done. And what he was saying. He told one of the other slaves that he was in love with you." Alex looked at me. "I swear, Scott, I tried to get to Remy. But he wouldn't listen. He doesn't want any competition for you among the slaves." He looked up quickly. Remy was still behind the armoire door talking to Henri. Meredith and Tanya had been drawn into the decision making. None of them were paying us any attention. "He questioned one of the slaves who was there that night. The slave told him that you responded to Zaki. That you liked him. They all heard you call him by his given name. Remy was angry. He's jealous about you. I think he was afraid you'd fall for Zaki. He was never that jealous about me." I noticed a slight hint of jealousy in his tone, but when he continued, it was gone. "He gave the man away. It was a warning to the others to stay away from you."

"Fuck!" I said. The voices behind the armoire stopped. We froze and Remy looked at us suspiciously from around the door.

"Is somet'ing wrong, mon petites?" He asked.

"No Master." Alex smiled sweetly. "I just gave my brother a friendly pat and reminded him of your promise to me."

Remy chuckled. "Of course. I haven't forgotten. But I perhaps I haven't had my fill of your brot'er yet either. You be patient, mon ami. Now you two behave over dere." He turned back to the three, who had started up their argument again.

I grit my teeth and turned back to my brother. "What promise?" I demanded, keeping my voice to a whisper.

"Scott. You do believe me about Zaki?" He asked, ignoring my question. My anger abated some when I saw the desperate look in his eyes. The fear was sincere. And his explanation sounded reasonable enough.

"All right. I believe you." My shoulders dropped then, along with my head. I was filled with a profound sense of loss and sadness. I looked up at Alex abruptly, worry clearly etched on my face. "How bad will it be for him?" I asked.

"I don't know." He replied. "I've hear the rumors. But they're just rumors. Since I've been here, I know that Alcie asked to have Zaki for a night when he was visiting the palace. Zaki didn't seem too afraid of him. But Alcie might have been holding back because he was a guest. And I saw Zaki the day they took him away. He was more sad than afraid. Alcie might treat him well. He was pretty taken with the man."

I closed my eyes and rubbed my face, saying a prayer that Alex was right and that the rumors about Lord Alcie were just rumors. We didn't say anything for a while. Then my brother asked, "How could you think that I'd do that to Zaki?" There was no anger, no accusation in his tone. Just a heart-wrenching sadness. How could I have doubted him? How could I doubt him now?

"I'm sorry." I whispered. Remy had finally decided on an outfit and the two women passed us as they were ordered out of the room. Tanya said good-bye. Meredith just ignored the both of us. I nodded and looked over at the armoire. Remy had disappeared into the bathroom. Henri was laying out the clothing. "It's this place, I guess. This whole situation. I just..." I couldn't finish. That monstrous barrier of jealousy between us had reared it's ugly head again. I loved Alex, but we were both quick to condemn each other at times. Sometimes I realized that I had never completely forgiven him for leaving me back at the orphanage. And I was sure at times that he hadn't gotten over the harsh things I'd said to him before he left. Or the way I'd
turned my back on him as he waved from the back of the car.

"I know." Alex put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry that I couldn't have prevented it. Or persuaded Remy to leave you be." He turned me around to face him. "I love you Scott. I really didn't want you to have to go through this." Alex pulled me into an embrace and I went willingly. We held onto each other quietly until Alex murmured in my ear, "And I'm sorry that I want you. That I'm glad Remy said I could have you." I pulled back, suddenly remembering his words during the training. Remy had promised Alex that he would be allowed to fuck me once Remy was through with me. And Alex had been looking forward to
it. My brother tightened his grip and bent his head to kiss my neck, just where it met the shoulder. I shivered, feeling myself getting aroused and hating it. He trailed more kisses up my neck and then tentatively touched his lips to mine. One of his hands reached down to caress my hardening cock and I groaned. Alex plundered my mouth as it opened and I gave into desire. We
kissed each other passionately, born out of a desperation to have someone close who could understand what we each were going through. "I'm sorry." Alex said again when we broke apart.

"I know. It's okay." And I meant it. If he wanted me, I wouldn't fight him. I loved him. If that would bring him comfort, I wouldn't deny him. Besides, I admitted to myself, I wanted him too.

Part XXV

We waited patiently by the door for Remy to finish getting ready. I was surprised he didn't require Alex and me to bath and dress him. Seemed like it would have been the man's dream. I suppose he just didn't want to mess up our attire, what little there was of it. Like me, Alex had gold bands around his wrist with the same elegant designs. He also sported the gold waist chains,
but the gem in his naval was a sapphire that favored his coloring perfectly. A thin coating of oil had also been applied to his skin. In a word, he was gorgeous. I almost couldn't believe we were brothers. How Remy, or anyone for that matter, could have preferred me over Alex baffled my mind. Quick sidelong glances at him as we stood next to each other quietly made it
difficult if not impossible to keep my erection from growing. I was in equal parts disgusted and aroused. However, desire was starting to edge ahead. I licked my lips nervously, almost wishing for the cock restraint that would at least keep me from coming like an over-sexed teenaged boy. Then I saw Councilor Escalada's leering face in my mind's eye and my erection went limp.

*But then I prefer blondes.* His words came back to me and I went cold with horror. *Surely not,* I tried to convince myself. *Remy wouldn't share Alex with that evil bastard.* God, I hoped not. I took my brother's hand then, and Alex gave me a puzzled look. "Nothing," I said, answering his wordless question. I couldn't tell him about Escalada. I was too afraid of what he might do. I knew Remy hadn't given him to anyone, yet. But was he still a favorite?

"I'm pretty nervous too," He whispered and squeezed my hand. He looked over at the bathroom door. Remy hadn't appeared yet. Henri had gone into the bathroom also, once the clothes had been laid out. "I told you what Remy expects. The performances. He's never ordered me to perform, thank God. But I figured it was only a matter of time. Once you were here." Alex looked at me with a weak smile. "But this is our coming out night. He may just make us stand around while the people just gawk and fondle."

Suddenly I couldn't help myself and I blurted out, "Do you know Frederico Escalada?"

I heard Alex's sharp intake of breath and turned my head quickly to see his face. There was contempt and hatred in his eyes. "Yeah. The guy makes Remy look like a saint." Alex looked ready to kill. "He prefers blondes," he said in a very Escalada-like voice. Then he turned his eyes on me. "The bastard came to see Remy in his study one night when I was there. I've been touched by a lot of people in this madhouse, but usually with some kind of appreciation or desire. He looks at you as if he wants to conquer you, to really break you. And he'd use any means necessary. I bet he gets off on torture."

I nodded.

"I swear, if Remy ever promises him he can have me, I'll gut the SOB," Alex hissed through gritted teeth. "I won't give a fuck if they torture me to death. He's NOT getting his filthy hands on me. And he's NOT getting me for breeding either." He paused and he threw a lethal look at the door. "I'll kill Remy for that."

I swallowed. Not even when he mentioned Sinister or the Dark Beast had he sounded this furious. I almost felt pity for Escalada. Heaven help the man if he ever asked Remy for my brother and Remy agreed. And I almost wished that he would ask. I think I would have moved Heaven and Earth for ringside seats just to see my brother pound the sick leer he'd given me off his face.

We both straightened and went silent when the door to the bathroom opened and Remy stepped out, followed by Henri. He wore a soft white towel around his waist. His thick mane had been braided down his back with the shorter strands framing his face, a few stray locks covering his right eye. Both his eyes glowed as he smiled at Henri and said something in French. He would soon be in his element, a party with most of the attention centered on him and his newest possessions. Remy smiled at us as he went over to the clothing that was laid out for him.

Henri helped him into tight black pants that closely resembled leggings except for the buttons in back. I tried not to look as he dressed, but the muscles of his thighs were etched in the dark fabric and the outline of his cock could be seen. I was slightly mesmerized by the sensual pose he struck as he turned his torso to look back at Henri. One leg was lifted just a hair off the ground and his arms were raised just above his waist. And then he was returning my look with a canny smile. Alex coughed and I turned my flushed face away, embarrassed. Christ! I hated when he knew I was watching him. And he always seemed to know. Especially when I was looking at him with desire.

I shifted my look to the floor and concentrated on the intricate weaving of the carpet, until I heard him approach. When I looked up, I caught my breath. He was stunning. Remy wore a long dark purple sleeveless vest that closed in front with five gold clasps. The fabric was embroidered on either side with black and gold thread. The needlework was exactly like the etching on our bands. His household crest. The vest itself went almost to the floor. The last clasp was fixed just below his groin and the material then parted to form a wide opening in front of his legs. Black and gold thread embellished the rest of the fabric with more intricate designs. Underneath he wore a simple black long-sleeve shirt with a crew neck collar. The collar and the ends of the sleeves were trimmed in a deeper shade of purple than the vest. On his left ring finger was a simple gold band with a beautiful amethyst stone. It sparkled as he flexed the hand. He wore soft leather black boots that came almost to his knees and shone so brightly I was tempted to bend down to see if I would find my reflection in them. Strips of leather buckled at the ankles with more gold clasps. It was hard to take my eyes of him and suddenly I couldn't believe what I was feeling: pride. He was my master and I was proud to call him that. I thought he couldn't look any more dazzling than at that moment.

But then he smiled. Not arrogant. Not smug or smartly amused. Just pleased. Pleased in the way we appeared and in the way we gazed back at him. Without even looking, I knew my brother was just as captivated as I was. And Remy knew by our looks that we wouldn't disappoint him. I realized I didn't want to disappoint him either.

I waited for some witty remark from him, something that would dispel the awe I was experiencing. But all he said, as if refusing to break the hold he had on us, was, "Follow me." When he stepped out into the corridor, two guards were standing at attention. Remy beckoned Henri to his side. He bent down close to the boy and said something quietly in French. Henri beamed and nodded vigorously. Then he ran down the hall in front of us and was out the door of the suite before we even started to move after him. Remy watched him go, smiling to himself for a moment. Then he headed off after Henri, motioning for us to fall in step behind him. The guards marched after us all.

We descended into the bowels of the citadel, seeming to walk forever downstairs. I was duly impressed by the vastness of the palace and the refined wealth displayed. Classical paintings and tapestries hung on the walls. Statues of gods and goddesses long forgotten, busts of ancestors on marble columns, and antique vases filled with fresh flowers that had to have cost a small fortune to replace every day. The air of the place screamed royalty. And the man in front who led us bore the title well.

Finally, we reached another ornate wooden door. I'd completely lost my sense of direction. I wondered if this had anything to do with Remy's power or if the time I'd spent in Remy's rooms had completely disarmed me of my ability to analyze my surroundings. It made me nervous, not knowing where I was. I tried not to show it, but my thumb tapped anxiously on my thigh.

Remy punched in a code on the key pad next to the door and it swung inward without a sound. Inside was a small military museum. Glass cases lined the walls with armor and weaponry. I even saw Remy's own kevlar body suit on display, along side his trademark bo-staff. The place was dim as you'd see in any museum after closing. The enclosures were lit by track lighting overhead. At the far end of the room was a small glass case perched on a rectangular marble base that stood about waist high. Remy strode to it and tapped an area on the side of the base. Another key pad appeared in front. Another code was punched in and the top of the glass box opened. Remy reached a hand in, retrieving a simple gold circlet and a medallion of gold, hung on a black ribbon trimmed in purple, that was the symbol of his office. He put these on without ceremony and came back to where he'd ordered us to stand. He wore the air of royalty as if born to it. And again, a wash of pride went through me.

We headed back up two flights in the palace and down another long corridor. Towards the end I heard music and the noise of a very large crowd. I glanced at my brother. He gave me a nervous smile and then went back to staring at Remy's head. Just before we reached two massive carved red doors, Remy ushered us into a room to the right of the huge doors. It was a small sitting room. Henri was standing in the middle holding an embroidered box. Walking over to the boy, Remy patted his head and took the box from him. Then he looked at us. "De last of your adornment, pets."

Setting the box on a nearby table, he opened it and pulled out a cock ring and the penile device. I blanched. "Oh come on!" I started to protest. Remy silenced me with a chilling look. Alex said nothing. When I looked at him, his face bore an expression of resigned irritation. Then he stepped behind me. I didn't bother looking back at him. I just scowled at Remy as he nodded. Alex's hands came around to caress my prick. I screwed up my face in humiliation and exhaled.

Remy stepped in front of me to lift my chin. "You're not fully in control, cher." He murmured gently. "People will be touching you intimately. I won't have you wasting your seed on dem. Not tonight."

He placed a soft kiss on my lips and I let out the breath I'd been holding. He took my mouth possessively as Alex worked me to near climax. I broke Remy's kiss, saying breathlessly, "It'll hurt if they grab me." Remy said nothing and pulled me into another heated kiss, snapping the device in place as I neared the edge of release. Tears sprung to my eyes as I dug my fingers into his arms and I fleetingly hoped I'd bruised him.

Then he let me go and stepped back. I glared at him. He reached for a lock of my hair and said, "Dey won't touch you wit' dat on. It's not allowed in public. It's considered abuse." Alex was stroking my back comfortingly when I felt a soft dizzy bliss and smiled peacefully. Remy was easing the discomfort with his power. I leaned back into Alex as my lids drooped and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight.

Our master smiled. "Si beau."

Alex drew away from me then, keeping a steadying hand on my arm so I didn't topple over from the exquisite sensations running through me. He stepped beside me and looked at Remy.

"Touch yourself." Remy smiled and leaned in to kiss my brother. I sighed in pleasure as Alex stroked himself to hardness and Remy snapped a leather cock ring around the base of his erection. Fine gold chains hung from the top of the leather and crisscrossed below the shaft. You had to look close to really see the cock ring. The color had been matched to Alex's engorged flesh. It almost appeared as though the chains were holding the blood flow in place. I looked at it in wonder and then looked at my brother's face. He didn't seem to be in any pain, so I leaned over to kiss him, drunk on Remy's charm.

"Now Scott." My master chuckled and pulled some of the power away, leaving me more alert, but not in pain. I laughed nervously as I pulled back from Alex. "You behave yourself, cher," Remy finished. Then he reached back into the box and pulled out two gold chain leashes. They matched the chains about our waist. He snapped them on to our collars and said, "I t'ink you're ready now. Come along, mon amours."

Remy led us out into the hallway to stand before the red doors. Henri, who'd stood by unobtrusively as a true valet should, followed us out into the corridor. The massive doors opened in front of us and I was struck by the noise of the room. I wavered disoriented. Thankfully Alex put out a steadying hand again. He wasn't under Remy's spell. I wasn't sure if I should be
insulted or grateful. Before I could decide, the leash was pulled tight and I was dragged forward into the uproar.

Part XXVI

We stood above the crowd on a wide landing at the top of a red-carpeted stairway. There must have been five hundred people below us, all milling about around a large ballroom floor. Elegantly dressed lords and ladies swirled in a graceful waltz on the dance floor. The room itself was immense. At least 40 feet high and longer than a football field. Large crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, the lights hitting the gems in such a way as to spray a prism of color across the dancers. The white marble floor sparkled under the light, sending blinding prismed rays up the stairs as the dancers weaved around the dance floor, blocking and then freeing the beams. I had to blink a few times to clear my vision. Around the room were tables and chairs, simple in design, but undoubtedly expensive. Couches and several more chairs lined the walls, where many of the members of high society gravitated to speak in loud, boisterous tones, discussing the newest gossip and politics and their own luxurious lives. I closed my eyes and swayed nervously above the crowd.

Suddenly a voice boomed out from the guard at the head of the stairs. The music fell silent and the room became a soft murmur of curious onlookers.

"Lords and Ladies, I give you our Patriarch of this great nation, Genosha, His Eminence, Lord Remy Lebeau!"

I faltered on the first step as the crowd roared a welcome. Genosha! What the hell! Alex caught my arm roughly before I stumbled. "Careful bro."

I looked over at him, but he shook his head. A warning to remain quiet for now. Remy never even glanced back at us. He continued to walk proudly down the stairway. Our leashes were drawing taut, so we moved quickly after him. I could feel the tension increase in my body as we neared the crowd. The noise had dulled again to a quiet roar and the people parted to one side or another to let us pass. At the opposite end of the room was a raised dais and a simple marble throne. Plush red cushions covered the seat and back.

When Remy had seated himself, he motioned for me to stand to his left, while Alex stood to his right.

"Stand proud, mon chers. Let dem admire your beauty," Remy encouraged us. He let the ends of our leashes dangle on the arms of his throne. Henri came to stand at his left knee beaming. He was scanning the crowd eagerly, and I noticed a small commotion toward the stairwell. Henri spotted it soon after and started to move forward when Remy put a hand on his shoulder. He murmured something in the boy's ear and Henri's smile weakened as he straightened. Then Remy gestured to an attendant. Orders were given, and an attractive young lady was led to the throne. She was dressed in a floor length scarlet gown. Her ash blonde hair was pulled up into a loose style and threaded with scarlet ribbons. Scarlet gloves ran up her naked arms above her elbows. The woman carried herself well. She curtsied politely in front of her ruler and Remy acknowledged her with a smile and a nod. "Lady Vanier. Your nephew does us proud. You are welcome to visit with him tonight."

Henri walked slowly over to the woman as she kneeled down to pull him into a hug. I couldn't be certain, but I thought I heard Henri say, "Momma". His voice had become a childlike whisper. I could see tears sparkling in the Lady's eyes. I choked with understanding then that the child couldn't be acknowledged openly as her son. Henri was a little boy denied the right to see his mother on a regular basis. It was heart wrenching. As much affection as Remy showed the boy, it didn't make up for the loss of seeing his mother everyday.

As Lady Vanier led her son away from the throne, a line began to form as the nobility came up to pay their respects and praise Remy's newest acquisitions to his harem. A servant brought him a glass of wine and he sipped from it as his subjects bowed and curtsied and admired us from below. I licked my dry lips nervously as he drank, wishing he'd offer me a glass.

Thankful that none had ventured onto the platform to admire my brother and I more closely, I turned my head away from Remy to study the crowd. To my utter embarrassment, I realized that Alex and I were the only naked slaves in the room. Many of the courtiers had slaves to attend them. They were easy to spot because of their collars and leashes and the submissive posture they took as they served their master or mistress. And all of them wore a short white tunic. A new flush rose on my skin. I felt vulnerable. Remy had let his power over me wane. The euphoric sensation had dulled to a warm relaxed state. But my thoughts broke through his control and shame surfaced in me.

I looked back at Remy. He was leaning forward, one arm resting on an outstretched leg, speaking to some councilor. Panic was closing in on me. Alex stood across from me calm and collected. This only increased my anxiety. How could he stand there so exposed to the crowd and remain so calm? It unnerved me and I wanted to run. I had to get away from these people.

Remy must have seen me move. I hardly realized myself that I'd stepped forward. He looked up at me and smiled encouragingly. Suddenly my mind filled with the image of how he saw me. The vision was astonishing and my thoughts reeled. I gapped back at him as he rose from his seat to come around to me. His hands ran the length of my arms from shoulder to fingertips. Taking one hand in his, he lifted it to his lips and kissed it tenderly. He was proud of me. And he was in love.

"Comprendez vous?" He asked in a way that only I could hear.

"Yes," I replied in a voice husky with desire and wonder.

"Ot'ers see you dat way too. Dey're green wit' envy," He exulted. "But you're mine, cher. All mine." His smile, crooked lips curled up, almost, but not quite, smug, ensnared me and made me believe in my own allure. I stood up straighter, yet more relaxed, feeling confident and attractive. The idea came to my mind that I would make everyone in that room jealous of Lord Remy. My face opened into a brilliant friendly expression. Remy laughed, delighted and squeezed my hand. Then he turned to face the gathering crowd, pulling me forward and summoning Alex to join us at the edge of the dais.

"My friends and loyal subjects," His voice lost all trace of his Cajun accent as it rose above the noise of his people, "I wish to present Scott and Alex Summers, my most treasured prizes. Their beauty and their power surpass any conquest I have made. They are perfection. Look on them with admiration. But be forewarned:" Remy's smile turned lethal, "I covet them as no other. Steal them at your own peril."

The crowd broke into a loud enthusiastic laughter. Everyone, it seemed, had heard the vows made by a few of the nobles who had seen us. No one would ever try to take us from Remy. That was a certainty.

Remy dropped our hands. "Remain here," he said to Alex and me. "Let them take pleasure in you. Deny no one and don't disappoint me." He left us then to mingle with his subjects.

For a long time we were merely watched. The guests came and went, standing for a few minutes to say something to a friend or companion about us. Several young ladies tried to catch my eye as they passed by giggling and covering their mouths with their hand. The older ladies merely smiled as they passed, throwing us disdainful looks as if we'd stolen Remy away from them. The men laughed at each other's rude comments as they came up to us, pointing and sometimes grabbing their crotch with a leer. I ignored most of it, choosing instead to follow Remy's path through the crowd with my eyes.

After a while, as the wine flowed freer and the crowd began to thin, some of the bolder aristocrats stepped up onto the dais to grope and stroke our naked flesh. Ladies pinched and prodded. A few demanded a kiss. The drunken lords caressed my ass unmercifully and several times a wet finger or three would work their way up inside me. I bore it as well as I could, standing
stoically, occasionally biting the inside of my cheek from crying out. Fortunately, no one grabbed my cock. Occasionally someone would bump into it, sometimes purposefully, bringing tears to my eyes or a sharp yelp that escaped without warning. Everyone would then laugh and taunt.

My brother wasn't quite so fortunate. A cock ring didn't cause the pain that the device did, and so he could be touched. He stayed hard, but there was always the chance that he'd lose control and spill his seed. I feared what would happen to him if he did. The people who mobbed him showed little mercy and seemed to see it as a challenge to get him to cum. Yet he remained in control. He kept his eyes focused somewhere to the back of the room, his face almost expressionless. "Come for me boy," was the favored chant. Others would clap and laugh their encouragement. His aloofness soon began to bore most of the crowd and eventually they left him alone. I wasn't so lucky.

Once in a while they were able to get some rise out of me. I tried hard to be as impassive as Alex, but sometimes a shudder or a yelp of pain would make it past my lips. Sometimes it was a groan. What the crowd really loved, however, was to see me turn red. "He blushes as prettily as a girl," one man said with a nasty laugh.

"Yes," his companion agreed. "But I bet he sucks a cock as well as a whore." I flushed an even deeper red as they all laughed and jeered. Alex had been right. This audience could be brutal and ugly.

There were a few, however, whose touches were tender, and whose words were kinder. "If Remy ever auctioned you off, I'd sell all I had to have you," one darkly handsome lord whispered in my ear as he stroked soft fingers down the length of my spine. It was almost worse than a brush against my cock. Exquisitely painful pleasure shot right to my throbbing groin making me grunt. The lord smiled, knowing full well how responsive I was to his touch.

Others plied us with wine. I was grateful for this, although, most of the offerers insisted on lifting their goblets to my lips and then begged to taste the sweetness of my mouth. I was getting drunk. I'd had about two glasses of wine all in all. And when Remy appeared in front of me, I gave him a loopy smile and almost fell off the platform as I reached out for him. Alex was there to rescue me again, grasping my shoulder in a viselike grip and pulling me back. "Don't," he warned.

Remy's smile was tightlipped. He didn't look too happy with my little demonstration. I was embarrassing him. On his arm hung a tall ravishing black-haired beauty. She had pale glowing skin and dark, dangerous eyes. Her face was beautiful, but had a manliness about it, an aggressive strength. I thought of Xena, the Warrior Princess and almost laughed out loud. But Alex's
fingers still dug into my shoulder causing enough distracting pain to keep me from acting the fool.

"They're beautiful," she purred. So much for the Xena image. This woman used sex like a weapon. She exuded a lethal sensuality to get what ever she was after. And the way she clung to Remy, it was obvious she was after him. "You simply must share them with us."

Remy smiled up at Alex and me, his irritation seem to have vanished. He patted the woman's hand. "Oh no, chere, I'm not sharing dese two wit' anyone. Least not yet."

The woman pouted seductively. "Well, if you're not going to share, at least let us watch them. Surely you planned to have them couple for your own pleasure?"

"Of course, Vanessa." Remy turned a wicked smile onto his companion. "I haven't seen dem in action yet. But perhaps I'd like a private showing before I have dem perform in front of dis drunken crowd." I breathed a low sigh of relief and looked back at Alex. His nostrils were flaring as he kept his eyes across the room. He had dropped his hand from my shoulder and I saw his fingers flex as if he had to consciously keep them from balling into fists. He was in a rage. The idea of performing, I thought. But then it dawned on me that if Remy ordered us to fuck in front of this crowd, the promise to my brother would be fulfilled. He'd have me. Of course, this wasn't the way I imagined he'd want his promise fulfilled.

Vanessa sighed. "Certainly." Her lips pursed as if in thought. "Any Master of renown such as you would want to make sure the training was adequate. I'd hate to think that they'd fight your hand or that they couldn't perform." I glared at her, knowing she was trying to goad Remy into ordering us to put on a show by playing on his pride. She smiled sweetly back at the two of us.

Remy laughed. "Chere, you used to be less obvious." Her smile faltered for a moment.

Then she tittered. "I suppose I did. But when I gaze upon such handsome slaves, how can I resist wanting to see them together? And your training methods are beyond question." I could tell this was a blatant lie. She wanted to humiliate Alex and me. Embarrass us in front of Remy. Chisel down our involuntary influence on him, further building up her own standing in his eyes. But, I wondered hopefully, did Remy see through her?

"My slaves have never disappointed," Remy replied. Something in his tone told me he knew exactly what this woman was about. But to my horror, he was willing to play along. "Alex and Scott will perform if I tell dem to. Dey won't fight me." He was confidence personified. I closed my eyes feeling the nervousness stir the wine in my belly. I prayed I wouldn't be sick.

"Of course they will," Vanessa agreed. "You are a Master among masters, Lord Remy." The crowd that had remained long into the night of this party began to gather around the two, curiously listening in on their conversation. A feeling of anticipation was spreading over the onlookers and a few drunken comments were heard over the murmuring. "Let 'em do it!" "Let's see some action!"

"Vulgar, mon chere. Don't you t'ink?" Remy said to his companion. "Why would I want to share des beauties wit' people who won' appreciate dem?"

Vanessa thought for a moment. "As Patriarch, shouldn't you try to educate your people to appreciate beauty? Perhaps a demonstration of love would enlightened this thickheaded crowd."

Remy's laugh was heartfelt. He truely enjoyed this woman's wit. I swallowed. He was going to grant her request. "Only for you den, chere. Because you are already enlightened." Remy let go of her arm and stepped up to us. Alex was shaking his head. As Remy took one of his hands, he opened his mouth to speak. But Remy put a finger to his lips and then caressed his cheek. Alex visibly relaxed. But his face still bore an expression of betrayal.

Without speaking, Remy took Alex's hand and turned him to face me, lifting the hand for me to take. I sighed in resignation and entwined my fingers with Alex. "The show must go on," I said, quirking my lips up and my brother grinned. Remy smiled with affection.

"Show dem how good you are, mon petites." Then Remy held out his hand to Vanessa and led her to the throne. We watched him as he sat down and gestured for Vanessa to stand to his right. If she was irritated by being made to stand like one of the many onlookers, her expression didn't show it. However, I did see her grasp Remy's hand tighter, more possessively.

A few people began to clap politely, then a few cheers went up, and then the crowd became exuberant. This was going to be quite a sight. Two of Remy's favorites performing for their pleasure. I wondered how rare an event this was.

Remy waved the crowd to silence after a few minutes and said, "Begin."

Alex and I looked at each other, both of us uncertain how to start. This wasn't going to be much fun for me. Not with the device on my cock. But I had some hope that Remy would let Alex release it as he climaxed.

Tentatively, taking the initiative as a top, Alex brushed my lips with a soft exploring touch. You could have heard a pin drop. He took my hands and brought them around his waist pulling me near, but making sure my groin didn't bump up against him. Suddenly, as I opened my mouth to him, I began to snicker. My belly quivered has I tried to suppress the laugh. Alex pulled away, cocking his head and giving me a sidelong glance.

"Sorry," I said, the laughter under control.

But as he ran a hand up the side of my abdomen, I snorted. Alex smiled at that. "That tickles," I snickered again. Alex chuckled. And then we were giving each other loopy grins, reminiscent of the time before the orphanage, the nights we spent making each other laugh when we were supposed to be asleep. The audience slowly began to join in the laughter.

"Quite the comedians," Vanessa spoke suddenly. My laughter faltered and I turned to glare at her. Remy cleared his throat.

"Bro..." Alex warned. His eyes were on Remy.

I grinned at my master then. "Sorry. Just nerves, I guess."

Remy narrowed his eyes, giving me that tight little smile that signified his disappointment. I dropped my head in sudden shame. But Alex lifted a hand to caress my cheek reassuringly. The affection and tenderness of his simple touch sent a ripple of arousal through me, growing and gathering momentum with every nerve ending it flew across. I leaned in for another kiss, still tentative, but growing bolder. The tip of Alex's tongue soothed my quivering lips. How could he be so calm? Even after Remy's betrayal.

His touch enticed me and I opened to his kiss, sucking the hot flesh of his tongue between my teeth. Lord, it was heaven. My brother, my lover. Have I mentioned what a fantastic kisser my brother is? Words can't describe. What was Lorna thinking when she told Alex she was staying in Genosha with Magneto? I began to wonder if we ever got away and back to our Earth, could I give this up? Could my life ever return to the way things were? I loved Jean. I missed her beyond words. But a need was growing in me, a desire I very soon wouldn't be able to deny. Alex's touch. Alex's kiss. As his fingers began to explore my skin, to rouse my nipples and cause the muscles of my taut abdomen to ripple, the room, the audience, and Remy faded from my thoughts. It was only Alex I felt. Only Alex I saw and heard and tasted. My cock twitched in pain, but it only added to the intensity of his touch.

Alex trailed his tongue across my cheek until he had my earlobe between his teeth, nipping at the soft drop of skin. I thrust my hips up automatically and gasped as cock met cock. A wash of pain surged through me, that melted into agonizing pleasure as Alex let go the earlobe and blew gently into my ear. Pain and pleasure. I never knew the two sensations could become one.

"Kneel down," Alex murmured, not an order. More an urgent suggestion. If I was aroused, it seemed my brother was doubly so. I slid slowly down to my knees, my fingertips grazing his skin as I fell. His hands rested lightly against my forearms to steady my progress. I thought I could feel every nerve I touched ripple upward toward the pleasure centers of his brain, looping back to his groin. His eyes were hooded with a lazy desire, yet held my gaze without effort.

I touched earth with a near jarring sensation that brought me crashing back into the reality of the room. It was quiet, but I heard breathless whispers and a smattering of delighted applause. We were a hit. And in spite of the scorching flush that sprang up once again over my face and shoulders, I couldn't...I wouldn't stop. I tore my eyes from Alex's face to focus on the erection less than an inch from my lips. Kissing the tip, I opened to the taste and drew him in. Humming and smiling, I feasted on something I suddenly realized I had missed and felt Alex shudder. Pavlov's dog. Pavlov's very happily aroused dog. He tasted as wonderful as I remembered from those few short weeks ago. My hunger was rising.

Very soon, Alex couldn't take the heat of my mouth, even restrained by the cock ring, and he pulled away. He was panting as he dropped down beside me. Unable to speak, his own face flushed with desire held in check, he touched my belly with the tips of the fingers of one hand and placed his other hand on the small of my back, guiding me over onto my hands and knees. His fingertips continued to caress my stomach for a long moment, causing me to arch my back catlike and groan. Alex's fingers on my spine stroked lightly downward until he cupped one of my buttocks. I pushed back into the touch without thinking, remembering the night in the slave quarters when he came close to giving in to temptation. He had wanted only to allay my fears, he said, but I knew better. If I hadn't stopped him because of my fear he would have fucked me. Now he was going to get his chance and I wasn't afraid anymore. Just painfully aroused.

When Alex's hands left my body, I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly, saddened by the loss. But it wasn't long before they were on me again, his fingers slick with lubricant someone had kindly supplied. I couldn't be certain, but I think Remy must have sent a servant to retrieve a bottle, and for that I was grateful. As a finger ran down my crack to enter me, I shivered and shamelessly wiggled my hips. It was astonishing how loose and relaxed I'd become, considering the small crowd that had gathered to watch. But this was Alex. I felt something for him that I felt for no other, not even Jean: a kinship, a blood connection stronger than even love. Jean might not always be my wife. Alex would always be my brother. We were bound by genetics that shaped us and familial ties that drove us. We were alike in so many ways that his touch was like a memory of something I'd never experienced before, yet knew so well.

Soon a second finger followed the first as he prepared me. But it wasn't long before Alex placed the head of his cock against my opening. I felt him hesitate and looked behind me. He had his eyes on Remy, a questioning expression on his face. Alex was asking permission. This angered me. Here Remy had ordered us to perform, commanded Alex to fuck me in front of these leering, jaded people and my brother still looked for allowance. I scowled, my emotions roller coasting from ecstasy to disgust. But then Remy nodded and Alex released the cock ring around his erection and I realized he was only making sure it was okay to remove the ring.

Alex slid into me as the tiny chains attached to his discarded cock ring clinked against the smooth marble floor. In the face of my sudden anger, I almost wasn't prepared for him and gave a startled hiss at the intrusion. But then he was all the way in me, his torso stretched across my back, his hands roaming my upper body, and his lips trailing down the nape of my neck. The roller coaster began to ascend back up to heaven.

Alex took me slow and easy at first, long smooth thrusts. I hadn't expected him to show so much control. I was sure he'd spew inside me the moment he entered. But he merely throbbed against the inner tissue, drawing out until just the head was left inside and then driving back in with one fluid stroke. The angle he positioned himself in allowed him to hit my prostate often, driving me to the brink again and again. But I couldn't cum. The device around my own cock wouldn't let me. And when I looked at Remy, begging for release with my eyes, he shook his head. Tears of frustration sprang to my eyes, but I couldn't disobey him.

Even Alex turned to look at Remy as if to plead my case. Our master was adamant. I would not be allowed to climax in front of these people. I dropped my head, biting my lip in resentment. Alex resumed his rhythm, increasing the pace. His touch became cruel at times, his fingers brushing up against my painfully unfulfilled cock purposefully once he discovered that I'd clinch the muscles of my ass tightly every time he did this, driving him wild.

I was becoming a bundle of raw, exposed nerves. There was pleasure and there was agony. My need was thrown to the wayside for entertainment. It was torture, plain and simple, as painful and humiliating as a public flogging. And the crowd loved it. I couldn't suppress the sobs that ripped from my throat whenever Alex drove into me particularly hard. My breath came in gulps. The wonderful sensations of minutes ago had now turned to torment, the pain more acute, overwhelming the pleasure and I only sought an end. I pushed back roughly against my brother, impaling myself harder and harder on his cock, trying to force him over the edge. The audience was getting louder, more excited, shouting their lewd encouragement. Alex was relentless and insatiable. I thought he was going to keep this up for hours.

My ass became sore, and my body ached from the strain and tension of the situation. It was worse than the whipping. But when I was certain I wouldn't be able to take much more, ready to pull away from Alex and run, he reached up under my arms and forced me into his lap, slamming as deep into me as he could go, my body bouncing over and over upon his pole. Then his groan of pleasure echoed in my brain as he released his seed far up inside my bowels.

The crowd roared. I let out a long exhale in relief, dropping my head back against my brother's shoulder. He wrapped his sweat-soaked arms tightly around me, sucking on my hot wet skin and cooing gentle endearments to soothe away the tears that ran down my face.

"Scott...it's okay...it's good. God it's good. I'm sorry...you're so tight, so sweet. Ah...I could stay like this forever." And on and on he whispered breathlessly until the throbbing of my angry erection began to ease and my tears subsided.

Remy was watching us intently. I thought he almost looked angry. His eyes were narrowed and his lips drawn tight. He had his right cheek resting on two knuckles, his elbow pressed into the arm rest of the throne. And when Vanessa placed a delicate hand on his shoulder, he shrugged it off. I gave them both a lazy wicked smile. *They're jealous,* I imagined, relishing the fantasy. Remy was jealous of Alex and Vanessa was jealous of the both of us.

Suddenly Remy stood up, silencing the cheering and drunken shouts of the crowd. He smiled brilliantly, the smile of a legend born, and strode to us with a wave of his hand. An attendant pushed his way through the onlookers to reach Remy just as he came to a halt beside us. In the servant's hand were the two gold leashes that had been discarded sometime earlier in the night.
He handed them to our master and stepped away. After snapping them in place he coaxed me, surprisingly gently, to my feet. It was an effort to pull myself up off Alex to my knees and then rise to stand. When I'd managed it, sharp needling sensations ran through my calves making me wince. Remy held out a graceful hand and I took it gratefully, steadying myself.

Alex, too, stood with some discomfort, retrieving the cock ring as he rose. We took our places on either side of Remy and a few steps respectfully behind. When we were situated, Remy addressed his subjects.

"I thank you all for coming to this grand event. My boys thank you also for your attendance and admiration. As you can see, it is richly deserved." There was a burst of laughter from the people. As it died down, Remy continued in a light, friendly tone. "But of course I can see that my boys are tired and as a conscientious master should, I must put them to bed." Another twitter from the audience. "And so we shall retire. All are welcome to remain and enjoy my hospitality. If you are tired or have a long journey home and would like a room to rest in before you leave, please ask the attendants. They will be more than happy to serve you in whatever capacity you desire." I couldn't see Remy's face, but I was certain he had winked. Hands came up among the women in the audience to cover giggles and smiles. The men chortled. The attendants must have been slaves. "I bid you good night."

With that, Remy stepped forward as the crowd parted and led us up the stairs.

Part XXVII

It was slow going for me. My erection was even more painful now than when he'd first placed the device around it. It was also more swollen and knocked against my belly as I walked, drawing grunts and hisses from me. My ass felt loose and raw, the friction from Alex's long hard moments of thrusting and the final brutal piercing throbbed unmercifully. A possibly irrational anger toward Alex rose up in me. He could have been gentler. Especially when Remy refused to let the device be released. So, as we made our way back to Remy's bedroom and my prison cell, although I stumbled several times, I waved away any help from Alex with a quiet fury.

Remy, as on our way to the event, said nothing. But he didn't rush me, for which I was grudgingly appreciative. He stopped on occasion to let me catch myself and he left a good deal of slack on my leash. Once or twice he placed an encouraging hand on my arm, catching my eye with a tender look. I wanted to wave him away also, but knew I might be punished for it. He might consider leaving the device in place for the night, and I didn't think I'd be able to take that without cursing him and suffering further punishment. So I tried to keep my face passive as I looked at him.

After his help was rebuffed a few times, Alex wouldn't look directly at me. But I could see him giving me sidelong glances, his face subdued. I remained angry and in pain.

Finally we made it to the suite. As we passed the study, Remy ordered us to go into the bedroom. We did as he said. When I opened the door I moved to stand just inside to the right just waiting, wondering what Remy was doing.

"Scott..." Alex began as he turned to look at me.

"Don't," I interrupted him, a warning in my tone. I didn't look up at him.

"It wasn't..."

"Shut up, Alex," I growled. "Just shut up. Okay?" I looked up at him then. Pain was there in his eyes. And guilt and anger too. His mouth was still open as if he were about to speak.

But then Remy entered the room and Alex turned to face him. Remy's circlet and medallion of office was gone. He must have secured them in the study. He looked at us as he began to unclasp the buckles on his vest saying nothing. When he'd shrugged off the garment he tossed it over his arm and walked over to the armoire. As he opened the doors, he said very casually, "Alex, remove the device from your brother and put his cock in your mouth. Take care of him, cher."

Alex's eyes went wide. Now they only held anger in them. "No," he said.

Remy glanced at him. "Alex..." He warned.

"No. You never said..." Alex gritted his teeth.

"There were a good many things I never said. Now do as I say."

My eyes went from Remy to Alex and I gave him a wicked gleeful smile. "Oh come on Alex. Take care of your brother." Where had the brotherly love gone? The kinship I'd felt when he'd first touched me during the performance? All I felt was resentment. And perhaps envy because he'd been allowed to cum inside me.

"No." Alex straightened, remaining firm. Remy ignored him for the moment and hung the vest in the armoire. Then he closed the doors and strode over to my brother, cracking him across the face.

"Must I punish you, cher? You know what could happen if you refuse me. Or perhaps I should have your brother whipped in front of you?" My grin faltered.

Alex swallowed. Slowly he walked over to me and knelt down, ignoring my gaze. His face was a portrait in controlled rage as he unsnapped the device, letting it clatter to the floor. I blew out a sharp exhale of relief, almost losing it right then and there. I wasn't sure if I would have cared or not. I really just wanted to ejaculate. Although the warmth of my brother's mouth, I knew with out a doubt, would be fantastic.

"Watch the teeth," I said smugly, patting him on the head. He sneered, but made no reply. After a moment's hesitation he engulfed my erection, taking it all the way down. I threw my head back, my eyes closed in ecstasy, moaning in pleasure. I was close, so close.

Remy came near, running a hand down my back and placing a kiss on my cheek. Then he bent down to murmur in Alex's ear. Tears began to flow down his face as he continued to lick and suck my cock. Then Remy stood up and spoke quietly to me. "Your brother believed he would be your master. He took the training too far." I blinked at him slowly, thrusting my hips in time to Alex's pace. "He t'ought I would give you to him. T'ought I would be finished wit' you someday. I did tell him he'd be able to have you. I never told him when or where. What he must understand is dat you two are equals here. Neither one better dan de other. I care for you bot' equally. And I am your master here. Always."

With that I thrust deep into Alex's mouth climaxing with enormous force. He swallowed it all. When he finished he drew away with a sob and dropped onto his hands.

As I stood over him catching my breath, Remy put an arm around my waist. "You're brot'er's always been jealous of you. You, de respected leader of de X-men. De love of Professor Xavier and Jean. Always Jean in your life. Alex loves you, but he feels less dan you. He t'ought he could be better dan you here. Dat I would care for him more. Dat was wrong of him."

I looked at Alex. There was that barrier again. That need to one up each other. And I'd played into it with my own envy and anger. "Do you love your brot'er, Scott?" Remy asked me.

"Of course I do," I replied instantly.

"Den let him know. I'll have no hate between you two."

I bent down next to Alex, stroking his back. "Alex?"

"I didn't want it to happen that way," he whispered.

"I know," I said. I wasn't sure how to go on for a moment. But finally I had to ask, "How can you think I'm better than you? I mean, you're the one who got chosen by a family at the orphanage."

Alex said nothing for a long time. Finally he turned to look up at me, his face tear-streaked and miserable. "They didn't want me for me. They wanted a replacement for the son they lost. I just happened to look like him. Why do you think I never kept in touch with them? It wasn't much better for me there than for you at the orphanage." He paused, closing his eyes. "And as twisted as it sounds, you didn't leave the orphanage because of Sinister. He pulled the strings to keep you there. He didn't want me. I was the weak link in the Summers clan. Pretty much expendable. You're the chosen one. You're the one who everyone wants. You're the one I...can't live up to." He dropped his head.

"Alex...that's got to be the stupidest thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth," I said gently. "And you've said some really stupid things before."

Alex frowned. "Oh yeah? Well you've said some dumb things yourself."

I patted his back. "Yep. Like when I told you how glad I was that you were getting adopted so I wouldn't have to take care of you anymore." I bent my head down low to his ear. "I'm sorry, Alex. I didn't mean it. But I never told you how sorry I was for saying it."

Suddenly Alex launched himself at me, knocking me onto my back. "I ought to knock you upside the head for that," he growled. Then he smiled, his face lighting up like Christmas. "You mean it? You wouldn't have cared having your little obnoxious brother hanging around?"

I cuffed him across the ear. "Naw. It would have been nice to have someone I could have picked on there."

"Yeah?" He asked. "Who used to get pissed off more?"

I chuckled. "Okay. You were better at pushing my buttons." I gave him a serious look then, tenderly wiping a few stray tears from his cheek with my thumb, and said, "I missed you. It was even worse there after you left. If it hadn't been for Xavier..." I stopped, feeling choked up at the memories that were being dredged up.

"I know," Alex said. "Those jerks who adopted me didn't want me to have contact with you. They didn't want to be reminded that I wasn't their son and that I had a brother."

"Well, you have a brother, whether you want one or not. And a brother who loves you." I put a hand to his forehead, pushing the strands away to see his beautiful eyes. "And a brother who's no better than you. You took care of Maddy when I was a such a prick to her and Nathan. I never thanked you for that."

"Don't thank me, Scott. It wasn't such a noble thing to do." He closed his eyes and pressed his face into my hand. "She used me. She was getting her revenge on you. I was an easy target. They all want you."

"Shut up Alex," I chided. "It doesn't matter. I'm no better than you. Okay?"

He nodded. "Okay." But the doubt was still there in his voice.

"Alex..." I said sternly. "I want you say it. I'm no better than you."

Alex grinned. "I'm no better than you."

I cuffed him again. "Brat."

"Brat."

"Stop it, Alex."

"Stop it, Alex," He said in his annoying obnoxious little brother voice. There was only one thing to do. I grabbed him by the nape of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. It was a hungry kiss, full of need. Full of desire to let him know how much he meant to me. I bit into his lower lip, nearly drawing blood, and he gasped. Then I was thrusting my tongue deep into his throat, encouraging him to suckle it hungrily. He shifted on top of my body, undulating to the heat rising from our groins. When I had him where I wanted him, writhing with intense desire, I pulled my tongue out of his mouth and kissed my way to his ear.

"Say it, Alex. Tell me I'm no better than you."

"You're no better than me," he breathed. I bit into his earlobe.

"Right," I murmured. "And you're one hell of a kisser, bro."

Alex lifted up to gaze down at me. "Really?" He asked, astonished.

"Don't know why Lorna didn't come running back to you after you returned from the dead. I would have, just to get a kiss."

I saw fleeting moment of pain cross his eyes, then he looked away. "I'm sorry, Alex," I said. "I didn't mean to remind you of her."

"It's okay," he replied. Then he grinned. "See? You do say some stupid things."

"Hey. I never claimed to be perfect. Now are you going to forgive me with a kiss? Or do I have to just take it?" I asked mischievously.

There was a tired chuckle above us. "I t'ink dat's enough brot'erly love for tonight, eh?"

We both looked up at Remy staring down at us. You'd have thought my face would have blistered from the amount of times I'd blushed since I'd arrived here. I'd forgotten Remy was there, so caught up in the moment with my brother. Swiftly, I pushed Alex off of me and stood up. I glanced at Remy to make sure he wasn't angry. I didn't want to incur his jealousy at this point.
After all, he'd given me something precious. He'd brought to the fore all the insecurities my brother and I felt toward one another. And by doing so we'd been able to wipe away years of bitterness that had always been there, slithering just beneath the surface. But Remy was smiling benevolently, so I offered my hand to Alex, helping him up off the floor.

"Give me de chains around your waist and de wrist bands," Remy ordered. "Den go and clean off dat oil. I'll join you two in a minute."

Alex and I removed the adornments and handed them over. I think we were both relieved to be rid of the ornamentation. We went into the bathroom, leaving Remy standing by the door, looking at the chains. I glanced back at him, wondering fleetingly what he was thinking. But then Alex nudged me and I stepped into the bathing area.

"Tub or shower?" I asked.

"Shower," Alex said without hesitating. "I'd feel cleaner."

I smiled. "Wash off the stench of that crowd?"

"God, yes," he replied, stretching his arms up and bending them behind his head in an unconsciously sensual pose. He headed to the shower stall.

"And me?" I asked. Where had that come from? Was I still insecure about my brother's love? Alex stopped and turned slightly to look at me through the opening between his bent elbow and his head. Then he dropped his arms and came back over to me.

"Don't be stupid," Alex said, lightly cuffing me on the side of my head.

I laughed. "Okay. But you still owe me that kiss." I was shameless. All I could think about was touching him again. My cock twitched in anticipation.

Alex smiled knowingly. "Maybe. In a moment." Then he walked back into the shower, leaving me shaking my head in exasperation. I followed a minute later. As I stepped into the stall, Alex grabbed me aggressively, shoving me up against the wall. He gave me little time to catch my breath before he claimed my mouth, demanding entrance immediately. I responded in kind, matching his passion. Using my knee, I eased his legs apart and caressed his sack with my thigh. Alex gasped and opened his mouth wider, allowing me to thrust deeper with my tongue. He forced his body so close into mine, it was as if he wanted to melt into my skin.

"How's that?" He asked when we finally broke for air.

"Mmmm...nice," I answered, my voice thick with desire. I sighed when he pulled away. But he smiled, letting me know he wasn't finished.

"We better get cleaned up."

I nodded, slowly pushing myself off the wall. Alex was under the spray already, rinsing the last traces of oil and sweat from his skin. His back was turned to me. Still overwhelmed by the urge to touch him, I grabbed a sponge, poured some liquid soap on it and began to lather his back.

"Ah..." Alex leaned back toward me, his head falling onto my shoulder as he luxuriated in my touch. I took my time, stroking every inch of him. As he turned to face me, he took some of the soapy lather I'd made and began to spread it across my chest. Soon we were engaged in playfully cleaning each other, fingers gliding and teasing over slick flesh, caressing, pinching, cupping. It was more affectionate than passionate. I felt the heat travel to my groin, but there was no driving need, no urgency in my touches. Alex, I noticed, was only half erect.

So I was a little surprised when my brother, having turned me around to wash my back, knelt down behind me and ran his tongue along the crack of my ass. I shivered in delight. Yet despite the pleasure, it felt a bit uncomfortable, unseemly, so I said, "You don't have to do that, Alex."

I almost lost it when he looked up at me and said, "I want to, bro. We're equals, remember. I'm no better than you. And besides, you look so inviting from my perspective."

Without another word I leaned into the wall, spreading my legs to allow him better access. Alex was exquisite. The tip of his tongue circled the rim of my opening teasingly, causing the muscle to spasm and shoot fire to my groin. Then he drifted lazily up and down across the tightness to relax me, to get me to trust and open for him. Alex had wrapped his arms around my thighs so that his hands gripped the area on the inner part next to my sack, his fingers smoothing the hair on the sensitive underside. I bucked in his grasp several times, groaning and clenching my fists. But he held me firm, his tongue finally working its way past the sphincter. I writhed and moaned as he fucked me with his tongue. Waves of euphoria crashed over me as he reached deep inside cleaning the tender red flesh. The spray of the warm water helped to magnify every sensation. I was so close to cumming, when Alex suddenly stood up, pulled me close and drove his cock deep inside me with one thrust. I gasped. When he had seated himself firmly in my body, I turned my head panting and said, "What about Remy?"

"Fuck him!" Alex growled. "You want this, don't you?" He emphasized the last few words by thrusting his hips harder, going even deeper.

"Yes!" I rasped.

Alex rode me hard then. Harder than Remy ever had. And I loved it! We were in a frenzy. I had to throw my arms out at one point to keep from hitting my head against the wall. His hands slipped down my hips, gripping them roughly to plunge into me deeper and more furious than I'd ever had it, making sure I'd have a hard time sitting for the next few days. Then his fingers curled around my shaft and he began to pump it hard and fast, matching the fury of his drive. I swung my head from side to side, clenching the muscles of my ass in time to the pace he set, drawing moans and gasps from his lips.

As we neared the ending, ready and yet a little angry that it had to end, Alex whispered in my ear, "Cum for me Scott." Then he dropped his head to bite deep into my shoulder.

"Alex!" I cried as my back arched and I exploded across his hands, feeling him release a moment later inside me. I'd never get enough of this, I realized in my ecstatic state.

Alex collapsed against my body echoing my thoughts. "Jesus, Scott, if I'd known it would be this good, I'd have ravished you years ago."

His words sent my emotions rocketing back and forth between the high of the afterglow and the desolation at my coming addiction. Jean would never be enough. I panted for a moment, pulling my emotions back inside, not wanting to hurt Alex with my gloomy thoughts. When I'd recovered enough, I snorted through a pant, retorting, "I'd have kicked your ass, you fairy!"

Alex chuckled. "You and whose army?"

I pulled off him and turned around to face him. "Xavier's, of course." We laughed, brothers and friends and I hugged him to me, feeling better in our mutual affection. Let the addiction come then. I almost welcomed it, if it meant being this close to Alex.

After a moment I pulled away. "I wonder where Remy got to?" I just couldn't help asking. He'd been so much a part of my life these last few weeks, it was almost strange for him not to be near. Another growing addiction?

"Who gives a shit?" Alex snapped.

I raised an eyebrow and gave him a cute little smile.

He sniffed. "Well, I only give a shit because he can activate this collar." His tone was surly.

I laughed, knowing he was lying. As much as I would have been lying had I said the same thing. "Come on," I said. "Let's get cleaned up. Might as well not give him any reason to activate it."

We rinsed off the sweat and product of our passion. And when Remy still hadn't appeared, we toweled each other off and went back into the bedroom. Our master was curled up on the bed asleep and looking so much like a naughty little boy, I just had to reach out and twirl a strand of his hair around my finger. He'd removed his boots and his shirt was crumpled up next to him on the bed, leaving him clad only in the revealing leggings. Why did he have to look so damn gorgeous? I just couldn't hate him.

I looked at Alex. He'd crawled up onto the bed next to Remy. And for all his harsh comments earlier, his eyes held a tenderness in them. His fingers trailed down Remy's spine, seeming to have a will of their own. Bending down to Remy's ear, he murmured, "Master?" Remy stirred slightly and rolled onto his back with one arm thrown across his eyes. Alex gave me a mischievous smile.

I placed a hand on Remy's belly and then slid it slowly down until I cupped his groin. As I cleared my throat, I said, "Master? Would you like me to suck your cock?"

Remy didn't move, but he said sleepily, "Don' be vulgar, cher."

Alex snorted as I grinned. "Okay." I agreed. "Would you like me to take care of this?" I squeezed his cock gently, feeling a slight twitch.

"Non," he replied. "Been a long day. I need to sleep. And I'd t'ink you two'd be pretty tired too...after dat shower."

So he knew. But his voice didn't express any anger. That was a good thing. I reached up under his hips and tugged at the zipper of his pants. "Let's get you more comfortable then," I said. He lifted his hips slightly so I could pull them off. I took the pants and shirt, folded them and put them over one of the sitting chairs. Then I crawled up along side Remy, pulling the sheet over all three of us. Alex had already snuggled down next to Remy, his eyes closed. I did the same, my head resting in the bend of his shoulder and arm. He wrapped an arm around me and placed a soft kiss on my brow.

"Merci, my beauty." Remy murmured. His breathing soon began to slow and he dropped off to sleep. I opened my eyes to find my brother mirroring my position and watching me. He smiled in the dim light and raised a hand to caress my cheek. Then he, too, drifted off to sleep.

I lay there for a while, too keyed up to sleep, just thinking about the party, my brother, and Remy. My mind skimmed the surface of my memories, feeling, in general, content. My brother and I had closed old wounds, and Remy was making no further demands on me tonight. I was actually a little surprised. As far as I had considered, Remy lived for sex. Now he had his two 'prizes' alone together for the first time in weeks, and all he wanted to do was sleep. Odd. But then my thoughts lingered on that moment when he'd let me experience the love he felt for me. Maybe his love was genuine. If so, then it went beyond sex. Having me near was the important thing. It was similar to the love I bore for Jean. I enjoyed her company. The sex was incredible, but it didn't define our relationship.

Yet what kind of relationship could I have with Remy? He couldn't trust me not to try to escape. At least not this early in my slavery. And I couldn't trust him not to hurt me, physically and mentally. I hadn't reached the point where I really missed him when he was gone. But I did enjoy his company at times. After all, he was usually the only one who spoke to me. The servants ignored me in general, only interested in my physical comfort. I began to wonder if I'd ever get to a point where I wouldn't want to escape. Would Remy trust me then? Would he treat me as more than just a pleasure slave? A part of me hoped that he would. And a part of me hoped that in time he'd set my brother and I free. My thoughts were becoming more and more complicated. Too much to think about, too much to dream about. I let my mind wander again and finally fell asleep.

I was awaken by a gentle bump against my shoulder. In my sleep I'd rolled on my side away from Remy. Groggily I turned to look back over my shoulder to see what had woken me. Remy and Alex were locked in a passionate embrace. I blinked and turned over without thinking, my cock coming to life at the erotic scene before me. My brother was stretched over my master sucking on Remy's tongue. His hands were gliding up and down the length of Remy's body. Remy had one hand firmly pressed against the back of Alex's head and his other hand was exploring the tight flesh of Alex's ass, one finger occasionally running the length of his crack. They didn't even seem to notice me when I moved to get a better look.

Caught up in watching the two beautiful men lying next to me feasting on each other, my hand slid down to my groin. I began to stroke myself running my eyes over the two, catching every sensual gesture they made. It was unbelievably hot. You could have fried an egg in the heat rising from the bed. Apparently jealousy was no longer an issue for Remy. Or had he really been jealous of me? Was Alex his true favorite and I just completed the matching set?

When they broke for air Alex looked over at me and down at my groin. He grinned and looked back at Remy. There was some unspoken acknowledgement between the two, and Alex reached to push my hands away and grasp my cock. I settled back on the bed with a sigh, my eyes half closed in bliss. Remy had lifted his head off the bed to kiss Alex's neck. I think he must have whispered something to my brother because suddenly Alex was on his hands and knees above me, his mouth engulfing my hardness and his own erection dangling temptingly above my lips.

"Take it, cher," Remy murmured in my ear. He didn't have to ask twice. I sucked in Alex with a moan as he opened his mouth wider and dropped down the length of my shaft, swallowing it completely. A quiet humming rose from his throat vibrating against my swollen cock. It was heavenly and spurred me on to pull him in deeper.

Remy had risen to his knees. And when I opened my eyes to the sudden shift of his weight, I could see him above me, placing his knees on either side of my head as he spread Alex's legs. I felt my brother grunt around the head of my cock and knew Remy had entered him. He could no longer thrust into my mouth as Remy held him in place, so I lifted my head to fuck him harder with my lips and tongue. It wasn't long before I was feeling the familiar and incredibly wonderful tightening in my groin. Remy must have been close to the edge too, because his empathetic power began to wash over me. Alex shuddered above me, his mouth dove down onto my length, and I came in a frenzy, thrusting hard into his tight hot throat. He swallowed it all, not losing a drop. Then I felt his own seed hit the back of my throat and it was my turn to dutifully swallow every tasty drop.

Remy climaxed at the same time, stopping his thrusting above me and letting out a soft "mais oui." After a moment he pulled out of my brother and collapsed beside me muttering to himself pleasantly in Cajun and French. Alex lifted to his knees stretching luxuriously above me. Then he smiled down at me, inched back a pace and bent to kiss me tenderly, before climbing over Remy to spoon up against his back. No words were spoken. Remy pulled me close into that favorite position of his: my back up against his chest, my ass against his groin, and one of his hands cupping my cock and balls possessively. It wasn't long before I was immersed in feelings of peace and safety and lulled back into sleep.

Part XXVIII

I woke the next morning in the same position. Only it was Alex who was holding me. As I started to pull away, his hand tightened around my belly.

"Don't go," he mumbled into my neck.

"Where's Remy?" I asked, curious.

Alex drew back with a sigh. It probably hadn't been the most judicious question to ask him. But there wasn't any sound of resentment in his voice when he said, "Gone. He left earlier. Government business, I suppose."

"Oh," I replied a little disappointed. I began to pull away again but Alex repeated his request.

"I have to pee," I said.

Alex chuckled and released me, snuggling down into the sheets as I rose stiffly to my feet. I smiled affectionately when he grabbed a pillow and wrapped his arms around it, hugging it close. He was adorable. When I looked away I saw that the sun was high in the sky. How long had Remy been gone?

Shrugging, I went into the bathroom. My body felt as if it had run a marathon. My ass was aching from the night's onslaught, and I had to walk slowly. It was several moments before I moved without looking as if I had been well and truly fucked.

When I returned from using the toilet, Remy was back leaning over Alex. My brother was laughing. "Stop it!" He hollered. I snorted as I got closer to the bed. Remy was actually tickling Alex. He stopped when he heard me.

"Ah, mon cher," he said smiling with delight and coming over to take my face in his hands. He kissed me soundly. "I'm glad I only had to torture one of you awake," Remy quipped when he broke the kiss. Taking my hand, he led me back to the bed and smacked my brother on the ass. Alex grunted but didn't move.

"Get up! You lazy t'ing," he ordered, "or you won't get to come on de picnic."

Alex perked up at that. "Picnic?" He inquired sitting up.

"Oui. It's a lovely day. I t'ought I'd take you two out into de gardens for awhile."

"Cool," My brother said, so like a cute ten year old. I had to grin.

"C'mon den. You need a shower." Remy laughed pinching his nose. I chuckled.

"We both do."

"Den hurry up! Or I'll leave de bot' of you here," Remy warned. Alex jumped to his feet continuing his impression of an excited ten year old boy. He grabbed my hand and dragged me back to the bathroom. He seemed energetic, but then the blood returned to the stiff muscles he'd abused last night and he stumbled once with a laugh. He was as sore as I was.

"Just be a moment, Master," he called back over his shoulder. I could still hear Remy laughing.

A shower and some healing gel helped to rejuvenate aching muscles, and fifteen minutes later, Remy was leading us through the palace. As we stepped outside into a winding extensive garden, I came to a dead stop. The sight before my eyes was gloriously landscaped, thousands of flowers in every color imaginable in bloom. I gaped. I must have been gaping. The sheer volume of
color set my brain on fire, nearly overloading my sense of sight. I hadn't known. I hadn't been prepared. Vivid reds, pinks, exotic purples with white overlay, forest greens of the leaves, the silver brown of the trunks of trees, the baby blue of the sky with the sun shimmering down, it's brilliance dancing across the life. I felt like a dying man given another chance to live. Compared to the dimly lit room in which I'd lived for the last few weeks, and even the bright festive ballroom of last night, the open sky and sun upon the glory of the colors was paradise.

And a little frightening. It'd been years since I'd looked at nature through unfiltered eyes. That time with Jean, or actually the Phoenix entity, when she had held my powers in check so she could see my eyes had lasted for only a few precious moments. She couldn't hold the power back for very long. And before that, I hadn't seen the world in full color since I'd been shackled
with the ruby quartz glasses at the start of puberty. Suddenly my captivity and the inhibitor collar around my neck seemed such a small price to pay for the vision before me. And I think I fell in love with Remy as I stood there. A chill went through me as I realized I would have gone through this entire ordeal again for this one moment in time. And Remy was giving me even more
time out here in the blessed beautiful open world with my full sight.

Remy stopped in front of me when he felt the leather leash he'd attached to my collar go taut. I wouldn't budge. Not yet. He turned and smiled. For a moment he seemed puzzled and I don't think he fully realized why I wasn't moving. But then he looked into my searching, darting eyes as they tried to take it all in, tried desperately to memorize the view before the veil of red was dropped back down and the world became hazy and distorted again. And he knew. He knew what he'd just given me. And I loved him and I hated him.

Remy came back to me slowly, as if to keep me from bolting like a skittish colt. He circled my nervously twitching body, alive with delight and fear, and wrapped his arms carefully around my waist.

"Like what you see, mon cher?" He whispered in my ear. I shuddered visibly. I shut my eyes then and curled my lips in a delirious grin. The day was warm, yet a gentle breeze was keeping us comfortably cool. And as I blocked the view from my eyes, the sensation of being outside in nothing but the inhibitor collar hit me with exhilaration.

"Yeah," I let out breathlessly. When I opened my eyes the scene before me wasn't quite so overwhelming, but still exquisite. Alex was standing just a step in front of me and to the side looking at us in awe and perhaps nervousness, as if I were a blind man and Remy had just given me sight.

Remy laughed and stepped back around me tugging on the leash. "C'mon pet. Dis t'ief hungry. 'Aven't had a bite all day." I was immediately thankful he didn't ask for my gratitude. It would have broken the spell he had on me and would have made him look petty. For some reason unknown to me, or perhaps denied by my consciousness, I didn't want him diminished in my eyes.

Slowly we made our way along a white stone path, Alex and I treading carefully in our bare feet. The path ran between rows of wildflowers and ended at a narrow dirt road. We walked through a small group of dogwoods and into a wide clearing. The first thing I noticed was a white linen cloth spread out in the middle of the glade. An ordinary wicker picnic basket sat next to it. And a small plastic cooler had been placed opposite the basket. I scanned the rest of the area with pleasure. Tiny white flowers dotted the grass. A deep forest surrounded the clearing on three sides appearing to extend a good way from the palace.

Remy led us over to the picnic area and bade us sit. Seeing as there were no servants to attend us, I knelt down next to the basket and began to unpack it. Remy seemed pleased with my initiative and it felt suddenly nice to be able to do this for him. Meanwhile, Alex was digging around in the cooler. He brought out a bottle of wine and a jug of fruit juice. Remy allowed us each one glass of the dry white wine. He wouldn't have us drunk. And thankfully he let us feed ourselves. A rare treat in his presence. But then we were all on an equal level today, seated casually on the ground.

In the picnic basket I found fruit and cheese, cold meat and bread. There was a fancy mustard spread and something like mayonnaise. Plates and glasses and utensils had been made available. And on the bottom was cheesecake smothered in strawberry sauce. I made Remy a sandwich with the cold cuts and cheese and served it to him with a handful of grapes. He took what I offered with a gentle affectionate smile and lay back on his side to eat. He was dressed in what I took to be casual attire for this universe: a dark blue short sleeve tunic trimmed in black over tight black trousers that fit taut against his black leather boots. The blue color didn't suit him in the bright daylight. His skin looked too pale, almost sallow. And his hair clashed with the blue. Regardless, his casual demeanor brightened his look and I couldn't deny that the smile he gave me set my heart to beating just a shade faster.

I quickly looked away, slightly embarrassed by Remy's sweet attention and began fixing another sandwich for Alex while he poured us all a glass of wine. Then I sat up Indian style and made a sandwich for myself. Alex reclined on the ground like Remy. We ate in a comfortable silence. I almost thought to make a toast, but soon realized how ridiculous that would have
been. What did I have to toast? Remy. For letting us outside? Toasting him for showing how good it can feel being fucked by another man? Or maybe I could raise my glass to him for taking away all the responsibilities I had had and making me his slave? So many things to be grateful for, I thought sarcastically. I kept my mouth shut.

After a few more sandwiches and fruit, we shared the cheesecake with appreciative sighs. Alex groaned after he finished his piece and sprawled on his back. "Any more meals like that and I'll be fat."

Remy chuckled and sat up. "You been slackin' off at de gym."

"No," Alex replied, his eyes closed and a smile on his lips.

"Bien."

I looked from Remy to Alex and back again, puzzled. Gym? As if reading my thoughts Remy said to Alex, "Dis afternoon I want you to take Scott to de gym and show him de facilities, d'ccord?" Alex opened an eye and nodded. "He needs to start working out again. I don' want you two getting soft on me," Remy continued. "No fat slaves in my palace. And you'll start back on de diet I require."

Alex groaned. But Remy tut-tutted him silent. "Cher, you know it's good for you. And don' go making Scott believe it isn't appetizing." He winked at me. "De chef to de slaves is one of de best in de country. I even stay on de diet most nights." Remy must have finally noticed the baffled expression on my face because he asked, "What, mon cher? Did you t'ink I would have you while away your life in my bedroom, laying about, waiting for me to come home?"

"I can't say I knew what to think," I answered tentatively.

Remy chuckled. "I suppose not. Dis isn't de kind of life you're use to." Alex snorted, his eyes still closed, and one hand tucked beneath his head. I glared at him for a moment before looking back at Remy. My master continued. "You'll exercise regularly. Alex will show you where de gym is. You can go dere anytime you want when I don' require your company. I do expect you to workout six times a week. I won' have you turning lazy and fat. De gym is fully equipped."

Remy looked over at Alex. "Are you listening to me, you lazy chien?" Alex opened his eyes and glanced at Remy.

"Me?" He asked.

"Yes you, pet. Sit up and listen!" Remy's voice was playful, but there was an underlying tightness in the tone that demanded obedience. Alex sat up quickly. "I'm only going to tell you dis once." Remy directed his voice to both of us. "I have a country to run and I'm a very busy man, n'est ces pas? Most days I'll be gone from early in de morning until late. During de day you may go to de gym or come out here to de garden. I won' have you wandering around de palace, d'ccord?" He paused and waited for us to nod our understanding. "For now, you'll live in my bedroom. And unless I am wit' you, de gym and de gardens are de only ot'er places you may go."

"What about the slave quarters?" Alex asked with his eyes narrowed just a touch.

Remy shook his head. "Dere is no need for you to go dere. Unless I send you dere for whatever reason I choose."

Alex looked away, his lips drawn tight in irritation. "Don' sulk, Alex," Remy warned. Then he cocked his head and said, "Come here, cher." Alex grumbled, but reluctantly crawled over to Remy. After whispering something into Alex's ear, my brother's face lit up just a bit and his lips quirked up in a hesitant smile.

"Okay," he nodded and met my narrowed gaze. I didn't like their secrets. They had to be discussing the slave Alex cared for. I felt a twinge of jealousy. But then Alex beamed at me and I melted. God, he was so beautiful. His secret love bore no malice toward me. If I could love Jean and him equally, then he could share his love too.

At that point Remy laid back cradling his head on one arm and coaxing Alex down so that his head rested on Remy's belly. "Mon cheres," Remy said, "occasionally I will take you wit' me to council. I can' keep you all to m'self. De councilors will expect to see you bot' at times. And of course I certainly don' mind showing you off." His smile turned mischievous. He was
quiet for a time, lost in his own thoughts. They must have been pleasant, because I began to feel warm and a tingle ran up my spine. Looking at the two, lying so comfortably nearby, I had the urge to join them. Whether it was the empathetic sensations coming from Remy, or my own need to join in their comfort I could not say. Whatever it was, I soon found myself scooting over to them and lifting Remy's head, pillowed it on my stomach. Then I stretched out and rested my own head on Alex's abdomen. I closed my eyes then, luxuriating in the blissful waves of pleasure. Alex's fingers drifted down to comb through my hair. The scrap of his nails along my scalp increased the intoxicating feel of his caress. I was floating peacefully when Remy's voice broke through my sleepy thoughts, rousing me back to full wakefulness.

"I won't deny dat your life here will be very different dan you're use to. It will seem boring at times. But I don' want to see you two sleeping all day. You 'ave an opportunity here." He looked up at me, his red eyes glowing warmly. "Dis is a time for you to develop a talent you might have had to ignore because of de crises dat arose in your life as X-men. Do you have any hobbies, Scott?"

I blinked at him. "No," I answered warily. "Not really. I never had much time for one."

"Dere. You see? Now you'll 'ave de time to indulge in one." Remy grinned, pleased with himself. "Tell me, is dere anyt'ing you wished you had time to learn?"

I looked up into the bright blue sky and inhaled deeply. Being an X-man had left me little time to indulge in a normal activity like a hobby. But I can't say that I'd actually felt a loss because of it. There just never had been time to think about what I would have done had I been normal, an average wage-earning Joe. I couldn't even really say with any certainty what career I would have chosen. Unlike Alex I never went to college. Never felt I could have with my eyes. Too many opportunities to screw up and bring down a building or two. A High School diploma was the most I'd achieved in any kind of formal training. And that had come through Professor Xavier.

"I guess there are some things I'd like to learn. I'm just not sure," I finally answered. "I don't know. I mean what are my options here?"

Remy chuckled as if I'd made some kind of joke. "Well of course anyt'ing dat might require clothes would be out." So that was what had struck him so funny. "Unless it had some entertainment value." Remy reached a hand out to stroke my calf sending a shiver up the length of my body. "But now Alex; he's started to write. And I let him wear a protective apron when he's in his
workshop."

I tilted my head to look up at my brother's face. His eyes were closed, but he was nodding. "Workshop?" I asked.

"Oui," Remy replied. "He likes to make t'ings; furniture mostly. He's already finished a beautiful end table I'm giving to one of de councilors as a birt'day present."

"Oh." Then I remembered something. "Didn't you make most of that furniture in the house you and Lorna were living in out in New Mexico?"

"Yep," Alex replied. He'd been very handy with tools.

"Writing?" I asked.

"Yep. Never had much time for it before."

"Alex is going to write plays for de ot'er slaves to enact when I must host parties and provide entertainment," Remy explained. "And he promises to write stories for my own entertainment."

"Bedtime stories?" I smirked.

Remy slapped my chest playfully. "Don' mock me. I need somet'ing to take a way de stress of running a country." He glared up at me when I gave him a wry smile. "And sex isn't de only t'ing I use to relieve stress." He smiled evilly. "Course it's usually de nicest way."

"You know," Alex said, his eyes still closed, "Scott has a nice singing voice."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "What do you mean? I never sang."

"Yes you did. Everyone heard you at one time or another." He opened his eyes and looked up at Remy then. "He used to sing in the shower and sometimes just around the mansion when he thought no one was listening."

I was shocked. I'd been so certain no one had ever heard me.

"He's very good. Just shy." My brother smiled to himself.

I blinked for a moment saying mostly to myself, "I didn't think anyone was listening." I looked over at Alex. "How come no one ever told me they knew?"

Alex chuckled. "Because they knew you'd stop."

My lips lifted slightly in quiet amusement. "Yeah. I guess I would have."

"Too damn self-conscious for your own good, bro."

"But you like to sing?" Remy asked.

"I guess so." I frowned. "But not in public."

"But you'll sing for me, petite." It wasn't a request and I blanched. I glared at Alex, but he'd conveniently closed his eyes again. Remy said nothing more and I fumed in silence for a few minutes, scowling out towards the forest. Jean had asked me to sing for her sometimes. She was the only one I ever felt comfortable enough to sing in front of. So late at night in the privacy and intimacy of our own room I'd croon to her. Just silly love songs. The occasional Irish ballad. I smiled at the memory and then sighed. Now even this little nostalgia was to become a condition of my captivity. Was there nothing I'd be able to hold sacred from my past? I felt a momentary flash of anger toward my brother for having given my secret away. But I suppose he didn't really think of it as a secret. Or maybe he was hoping I'd have to sing for him too, up in Remy's bedroom? That idea appealed to me in some way, and my anger vanished. After all, we were now intimate with each other, we were lovers. I think I could sing for him.

After a lengthy silence, the idea of having time to learn something I'd always wanted to learn began to sink in. Remy was giving me a opportunity I'd probably never have gotten back home. An idea surfaced. "You know," I began a little tentatively, not quite sure I wanted to give up more information about myself to my master, "the Christmas before the plane crash Mom and Dad gave me a guitar. I only got to take a couple of lessons. I kind of enjoyed it. I wouldn't mind taking it up again."

"Okay!" Remy exclaimed delightedly. "We'll hire de best teacher in de country to teach you." I smiled, caught up in his enthusiasm. Pleased with himself, Remy closed his eyes, lost in his thoughts again. I began to think about that last Christmas, the excitement of opening the guitar case, the secret visions of becoming a rock star, Mom and Dad laughing as I hammered away at the strings, having no idea what I was doing. I'd forgotten. Once, at the orphanage, I'd asked the headmaster if I could take lessons, the memory of receiving the guitar a vague shadow in my mind. He'd scowled and asked me where I thought the money was going to come to pay for the lessons, let alone the instrument itself. I never asked again, and buried the idea way in the recesses of my consciousness, back where all the hurt and loneliness, guilt and anger had gone. I could feel tears beginning to well up in my eyes until Remy suddenly said, "Tell me about your childhood, petites."

My shock and suspicion caused any tears to dry up immediately. He'd read our files at the mansion. He'd had access. What did he really want to know? I glanced at Alex and saw the same wary look I was sure was on my face. Then he asked, his tone very cautious, "What do you want to know? Master." The last word was added like a warning. Remy couldn't lay claim to our most precious memories. He had no right.

"You've read our files at Xavier's," I said as if to drive the point home. "You know our history."

"Oui. I know your history. But I want to know what it was like for you growing up wit' your baby brot'er."

"Why do you want to know?" I had to ask, but I tried to keep my voice casual. It didn't fool Remy. He sighed, almost sadly as if I'd betrayed him after all he had done to make this day pleasant.

"Just indulge me, cher. Lie if you want to." He shrugged. "I wouldn't know de difference. I'd just like to hear what it was like."

I felt a twinge of guilt for my suspicion. I'd assumed he had an ulterior motive, and while I was pretty certain he did have one, perhaps it wasn't something that he'd use to hurt us with, to control us. I got the sense he was sincerely interested in knowing more about us, as...not necessarily friends, but not necessarily as slaves either. Perhaps he was lonely, here in his domain of wealth and ostentatious living? Perhaps he was tired of court intrigues and wanted honesty? Although he'd told us we could lie. I don't think he'd really meant that. There was moment of pensive silence, when Alex said, "I don't remember much before the accident. I was pretty young. But I wasn't much trouble."

"Bullshit!" I snorted, caught momentarily off guard by my brother's comment, my wariness easing. "You were a brat!"

"I was not," Alex replied indignantly. "Mom said I was the perfect little angel."

I laughed. "She just knew how sensitive you were. She didn't want to hurt your feelings."

Alex grinned. "You are so full of it. You're the sensitive one." He looked up at Remy before I could defend myself and said, "I could piss him off so easily. We use to fight a lot. I liked to see him get all red when he got angry. It was hilarious."

The tension began to ease between the three of us as my brother spoke. Remy was meeting Alex's grin with a similar heartwarming smile. But all the same, I was getting a bit ticked at Alex for what he was saying.

"Perfect little angel, my ass," I muttered

Alex knew full well he was just trying to rile me up. And he was succeeding to some extent. But then I smiled. I had an ace up my sleeve. "You know," I said to Remy. "now that I think about it, he really was a little angel." I almost laughed when I saw Alex frown wondering what I was up to. "In fact, he even looked like an angel one Christmas."

"Scott..." Alex warned, a vague memory coming back to him in a flash, "don't you dare..."

"Mom thought," I continued, ignoring him, "Alex was so cute with all that blond hair -- it was curly then -- that he could win the littlest angel contest. So she made the most adorable angel outfit for him."

Alex groaned. "I'm gonna kill you, Scott." It was like dragging out a picture of a naked baby on a bear skinned rug, and I was going to play up every minute of it. Remy was grinning from ear to ear in enjoyment.

"She made this white dress like a christening gown, all trimmed in gold." At this point I had to fight off Alex's hands as he tried to cover my mouth. "She..."

I slapped his hands away,

"even made..."

I slapped them away again,

"pretty white..."

This time I grabbed his wrists,

"wings!"

Fingers had reached a ticklish spot on my neck. "Stop!" I cried. "Master!" I implored Remy who was laughing heartily now. "Don't you want to hear this story?!"

"Oui! Oui!" Remy exclaimed as he tried to catch his breath. Finally he was able to stop laughing long enough to give Alex a stern look. "Alex. You let your brot'er finish," He ordered.

Alex pouted, but withdrew his fingers from my neck. I gave him an evil grin at which he immediately thwacked me on the head. "Hey!"

"Now, now," Remy scolded. "Behave." It was quite comical. Remy was acting like an amused mother hen with Alex and I reducing ourselves to preadolescent boys.

"G'on Scott. I want to hear dis," Remy bade me, smiling at Alex whose lips were pursed in a psuedo irritated look. But he didn't really mind. We were two loving brothers sharing a fond memory.

"Well, the wings were white and trimmed in that fluffy material. They looked like the wings on those Victoria Secret models."

Remy glanced up at me amused. "You like to look at dose catalogs, cher?"

"Er...Jean use to order from them," I said, blushing a little in embarrassment. Alex and Remy broke out in renewed laughter.

"That's priceless!" Alex quipped, delighted to be gaining the upper hand for a moment. "Do you look at them when Jean's around? Or do you have to check them out when she's not looking? I bet that's a thought you have to shield around her."

I scowled at him and thumped his belly. "We're not talking about me," I retorted. Then I glared at Remy who was still laughing. "You want to hear this story or not?"

"G'on, g'on." He waved a hand, stifling his laughter with his other hand. It was Alex's turn to scowl.

"So anyway, she made a gold halo too. Now Alex was three, I think, when Mom entered him in the contest. It was being held at her church. The winner would receive an angel ornament and a 20 dollar gift certificate to the local toy store. Of course Mom really wanted that ornament. Dad thought it was hilarious. But he took tons of pictures."

"Too bad we lost them all," Alex said sarcastically.

I snorted and continued. "At the church all the little angels were lined up on stage, and the judges started looking them over, when Alex suddenly decided he could fly."

"Non!" Remy cried, his eye wide in mock horror.

"Yep. He caught Mom completely off guard and was able to pull out of her hand. Then he ran to the edge of the stage. He was giggling. I definitely remember him giggling. Mom had recovered by that time and started after him, when he just leaped into the air. His halo was flung into the crowd and the fluffy stuff from his wings was flying everywhere. And Alex's little angel robe flew up over his head as he went down."

"Non!" Remy exclaimed again with a huge delighted grin. Alex was sulking, but his lips were having a distinctly hard time not twitching up into a smile.

"Yep," I answered again. "He landed smack on his ass. But he was still laughing like crazy. I can remember one eye peeking out from under the gown, which was part way over his head. He'd somehow managed to get his hands untangled and was clapping and bouncing."

"Dat's so cute!" Remy said, chuckling.

"Oh he was." I agreed. "The crowd was roaring and the judges too. Mom was standing at the edge of the stage looking confused. And Dad was laughing so hard he was crying. Of course Alex won the contest."

"How could he not?" Remy nodded.

"It was that kid's fault," Alex grumbled. "Johnny what's-his-name."

"What?" I asked looking up at him.

"The kid I was standing next to," Alex explained. "He told me I could fly. That the wings were real."

At that Remy and I started howling with laughter.

"Hey!" Alex, caught up in our amusement, started to crack up himself. "I was just a kid!"

It was a wonderful moment, all three of us laughing with tears in our eyes, as if we were the closest of friends. I had to admit I didn't want to see it come to an end. And for a while it didn't. Alex and I began to tell Remy about our childhood. What would have been the point not to? Maybe he could use the information against us. Maybe he couldn't. He had us pretty much where he wanted us. And it was nice to forget for a little while that we weren't really friends.

I did most of the telling because Alex couldn't remember much of what happened before the plane crash. We even shared some memories of the orphanage, before Alex was adopted. Although it wasn't much. Some stories we couldn't share. Not even with each other.

Remy seemed to hang on every word. He asked question after question. How did we feel? What was it like? How did that happen? He grilled us for details as if he wished he could have been there. Could have been part of our life. And I realized how lonely it must have been growing up on the streets of New Orleans with no one to take care of him. No one to really care whether he lived or died. At least I had Alex. I knew that even the Thieves Guild had never really accepted him. There were many in that group that wouldn't have minded seeing him dead. The X-men were vastly different too. In that group I was accepted, respected and loved. Even Logan gave me grudging respect. It must have grated on Remy to have no one who completely trusted him. Even the X-men had held him at arm's length. In a way he only was accepted out of deference to Ororo. That must have galled.

After a while had passed he grew thoughtful, the questions ceased and I had nothing much left to tell. We all became quiet then, lost in our own musings. I think Alex was asleep.

"It must have been nice," Remy suddenly said softly.

Startled, I asked, "What?"

"It must have been nice to 'ave grown up wit' a brot'er. To 'ave had a family...even for a short time."

"Yeah," I replied, not certain what else to say. A wave of sadness came over me and I wasn't sure if it was Remy's empathy at work or if I felt a genuine sadness for the little boy who had been Remy Lebeau. "Remy..." I started to say.

He interrupted me with a wave of his hand and he sat up waking my brother when he abruptly pushed his head from off his belly.

"Well, mon chers," Remy smiled cheerfully, all traces of his thoughtful self gone in a flash. My sadness still lingered. "I 'ave a meeting I must attend." He stood up. Alex and I sat up to watch him, Alex rubbing his eyes groggily.

"Stay here for as long as you like. De servants will come to pick up all dis." He gestured to the leftover food and the cooler. "Alex, remember to show Scott where de gym is." He looked at me. "Don' strain yourself, pet. Take your time. Been awhile since you worked out."

I nodded.

"Bien." His gaze went from me to Alex. "I want de bot' of you back in de room by eight. D'ccord?"

"Okay."

"Sure." I said.

Remy turned to go, but then swung back again with a slight, but lethal smile. "And keep your hands to yourselves. I ignored what happened last night. After your obedience at de party, I felt you deserved your pleasure. But from now on you only have each ot'er when I allow it. Comprendez vous?"

We both nodded in agreement, but I could feel Alex's resentment as much as mine. However, neither of us wanted to find out how he'd punish us if we argued with him. Remy looked at us both sharply and nodded to himself. "Until tonight den." He strode away without a backward glance.

Alex sat back on his elbow, plucking a long piece of grass from the earth and twirling it between his teeth. He kept his eyes on the way Remy had gone for a long time after our master had disappeared through the trees. I sat Indian style looking out at the forest behind us and wondering how far into it I could go before the collar activated. I was startled out of my analysis when my brother sat up and said, "Dammit! That's like leading a man dying of thirst to the water and telling him he can't drink! It's too much fucking temptation!" Alex didn't really sound all that angry. More amused than anything. As if it didn't really matter what Remy had said. When Remy wasn't around he'd do whatever the hell he wanted to.

I wasn't so confident. I'd had a few tastes of what the collar could do. And what Remy could do. But nevertheless I smirked and retorted, "You're not that irresistible."

"Oh no?" My brother asked. For a long moment he did nothing. I watched him out of the corner of my eye watching me. Then he got to his feet and walked passed me toward the palace. For a second I thought he was going back inside. But then he lowered himself behind me. I grinned, knowing what he was up to, but not really wanting him to stop.

Alex let one of his fingers drift slowly down my spine. He leaned into me, nipping at my earlobe. "Are you saying you can resist this?" His finger reached the end of my spine and he placed all five digits just above my rear. Then he drug them back up to my shoulders, his nails grazing the skin. "Ah." I let out as I shivered. My cock hardened immediately. "Stop it Alex."

But he was determined to prove me wrong. And I can't say I really minded. Alex licked my ear, driving his tongue into the opening. His other hand reached down between my crossed legs to lightly brush the swollen head of my penis with his fingers. "Or maybe this?" He whispered.

"Alex don't," I croaked. Despite the marvelous sensations he was causing, I was getting nervous. Paranoid perhaps. I felt as if we were being watched. I was so certain Remy would know if we coupled.

"Don't what?" Alex chuckled as he let his hand curl around my thick moistening shaft, stroking it all the way to the root. Suddenly an image of another hand came to mind. A hand raising a whip. I heard the swoosh in the air and felt fire on my back.

"Alex, cut it out!" Knocking his hand away before he could work me up any further, I said, "I don't want to feel the whip again."

As if he had doused his hand in a bucket of ice water, Alex immediately pulled it away and sat up straight. I kept my eyes focused on the forest, not wanting to see the horror, or the pity in his eyes. I had never intended to tell him about the lashing, but the words had come out without warning. If it was intentional, I didn't know.

"Jesus! Scott!" Alex's voice was tight and stunned. His fingers touched my back gently, not to arouse, but to examine. Looking closely he could see the faint traces of the lash marks, the red welts all but faded. Only visible to close inspection. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it doesn't matter." I spoke with a flash of irritation. "I provoked him and he...corrected me."

"With a whip?!" Alex exploded. "Corrected you?! How the hell can you say that?! You're not a child, Scott! And you're not a slave!"

I turned to look at him then and said icily, "This collar says differently, Alex. And the way I respond to him...like some cheap whore. If I'm not a slave, then what am I?"

When Alex didn't respond to that I stood up clenching my fists. I looked down at him. His head was bowed and one forearm rested on a bent knee. "I shouldn't have said anything. It's over and done with. I said I was sorry and he forgave me. Just let it drop. Okay?"

After a moment he looked up to meet my gaze and nodded. Then he reached out a hand and I helped him to his feet. But as he stood, he refused to let go of my hand. Instead, he pulled me into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry, Scotty," He murmured low against my neck. I felt a drop of moisture land on my upper back and roll down my skin. God how I loved him. "You're no whore. And you're no slave."

Then he released me and started walking back to the citadel.

Part XXIX

We took our time going back. Neither of us had much to say. I was still irritated at the minor confrontation we'd just had. I should have kept my mouth shut, but I'd felt provoked. His flirtation had been amusing at first. Yet I'd had this nagging sense of being watched.*Well,* I thought, *why wouldn't Remy have us spied on?* In spite of all his security measures, we still might have found some way of escape. But if he was having us watched, and watched closely, escape would no longer be much of an option. That chilled me.

And then there had been Alex's flirtation. Don't get me wrong. Alex was a temptation. At this point, after everything that had happened, after a part of me I never even dreamed existed was revealed, I could become aroused just looking at my brother. But this also tore me apart. The values I'd been educated under -- first by my parents and later by Xavier -- screamed how
wrong all my feelings were, how unnatural. And yet I'd challenged Alex, practically dared him to touch me. My life, my head, was so screwed up here. At least in Remy's presence I could justify my actions. I could claim his empathetic hold was triggering my responses. It'd probably be a lie, but it'd be a lie I could believe. Outside Remy's sphere of influence there was no justification. I was captivated by Alex, by my brother. I needed him desperately, and sex was so much a part of that need. To be able to share physical intimacy with him seemed almost as necessary as breathing.

And always, there in the back of my mind, was the question: what would Jean think? I couldn't escape her memory. And if I ever saw her again, she would know. I'd never be able to hide my feelings for Alex from her. And as much as I knew my wife, even more intimately than most couples due to our psychic rapport, on this issue I was at a loss to say how she'd feel. Yet regardless of her feelings I'd never abandon Alex. After all these weeks, regardless of how this bond had formed, regardless of the pain I'd suffered to get to this point, the humiliation, the rape, I don't think I could have given him up for anyone. Jean included.

Underneath all these conscious thoughts, just waiting to throw me into panic should they rise without warning to the surface, were the visions of being whipped. Of being tied to the end of Remy's bed as the lash landed over and over on my back. I pushed those images as far back in my mind as I could. There was no question about it. I could not think of that incident. Not now. Probably not ever. And I promised myself I'd never talk about it with Alex again.

Lost in my thoughts, I started when I felt a hand on my shoulder. "We're here," Alex said, pointing to two wooden doors. I blinked in confusion. I'd forgotten about the gym, thinking we were headed back to the bedroom. Mentally, I chastised myself for my lapse in awareness. I hadn't mapped out the route from the garden to here. That information could have been useful. Plus, I didn't need the grief I'd get for wandering around the palace looking for the gym unattended. Well, I'd just have to pay more attention on the way up to Remy's suite of rooms. And I'd have to get Alex to show me the way back to the gardens.

Alex ushered me through the doors onto a black top area that bridged out to a good sized track. A few slaves were jogging, barefoot and naked. I grimaced a bit at the sight. Every time I thought I'd gotten use to the idea of my nakedness and captivity, something would shove those feelings of vulnerability and shame back into my awareness. Alone with Remy and Alex, I could relax a bit. But any contact with the outside world, naked slaves, fully garbed courtiers, and I was thrown back to a level of fear and panic. It was easy enough to bring it under control, but that didn't make it easier to handle the initial reaction.

I turned my eyes away from the slaves and took in my surroundings. The track was suspended about 15 feet above the floor. It was five lanes deep with a railing around the center lane. Passed the railing was an open area where one could look down into an Olympic sized pool.

"Man," I said in astonishment. We'd moved out to the railing to look over into the pool.

"Yeah." Alex agreed. "There's a similar facility for the female slaves."

"Really?" It hadn't crossed my mind that Remy would have female pleasure slaves. But it made sense. I just didn't see him as a homosexual. I think with his empathetic power he'd be drawn to both sexes. Men just held that allure of power and the challenge of being able to change their sexual orientation.

Alex gave me a leer. "Come on. I'll show you the rest of the place."

On either side of the platform that connected to the track were stairs leading down to the pool area. Off to the right was a weight room. Next to it was an exercise room with every kind of exercise machine available. Stairmasters, stationary bikes, row machines. You name it, it was there. On the far end of the pool was a short hallway leading to a gymnastics room,
complete with rings, a vault, parallel bars and floor mats. There was a slave practicing on the rings as we entered, his well-defined body lifting up into a handstand, holding it for half a second before swinging himself around twice, gaining momentum until he flipped up into the air. A double twist and he landed solid. It was Warren. When he turned raising his arms in the air as if to an imaginary crowd, he saw us and waved. I smiled and nodded. But my brother was glaring at him.

"Where's your spotter?" He called to Warren.

"He's busy," Warren answered casually as he came towards us. "Hey Scott," he said to me as he got closer.

"Remy would kill you if he knew you were in here without a spotter," warned Alex.

Warren smirked. "And your point being?"

A death wish in a slave really brings home the idea of how ugly slavery is. I grimaced.

"You're looking to get your privileges revoked, Warren," Alex growled, trying another tactic.

Warren bowed extravagantly. "The favored one has spoken."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said. "Break your neck. I won't say anything to Remy. But you know if he finds out he could do a lot worse than revoke your privileges."

"Like execute me?" Warren gave another smug look. But there was something behind his eyes. Something that sent a chill through me. It was hope.

"Like sell you," retorted my brother.

That shut the slave up. Death would be preferable to some of the people Warren could be sold to. There were many things worse than death. He glared at Alex for a moment, then stomped off without another word. Alex sighed.

I was concerned. "You think he'll be okay?"

Alex didn't hesitate. "No." He looked at me intently. "It's happened before. One of the slaves fights his captivity or is no longer a favorite of Remy's. They get angry. But rather than lash out at the source of their anger, knowing it's useless, that nothing will change, they turn inward. There've been plenty of suicides and attempted suicides. Especially among the pleasure slaves."

"Damn."

"Yeah," Alex replied. "So much for a carefree existence. I think I'll have to keep an eye on him."

I followed him back toward the pool wondering if there was a way for me to keep an eye on Warren also. He'd been kind enough to me despite the overt sexual suggestions. I'd hate to hear that he'd been sold off like Zaki. Or worse; had killed himself.

When we reached the pool area, Alex led me to a door on the left. This led to the showers and toilets. There was also a sauna and a steam room inside. I could really get to love this place.

Alex showed me the exit that led to an outer passage in the citadel.

"It's the quickest way back," he said. "We'll go out this way to get to Remy's bedroom."

I nodded and we stepped back inside.

"So." Alex smiled. "Wanna work out?"

I returned his smile. "Sure do," I replied enthusiastically. Then I turned to head out to the exercise room. Alex's hand came down on my shoulder again.

"Ever worked out in the buff?" Alex asked, pulling me back around to face him. "You need to know a few things."

I frowned. "What things?"

Alex cupped my balls causing me to squirm in surprised delight. "First, you won't have any support for these. If you push yourself too hard running or on the stairmaster -- anything that will cause them to slap against your thighs over and over -- it's gonna hurt. They'll get pretty raw and swollen. You have to work up gradually. Get use to hanging free." He gave my sack a quick squeeze before dropping them. "It's kind of nice not having to peel off sweaty clothes after working out, but you won't fully appreciate it until your genitals have toughened up. Takes about a week or two."

"What else?" I asked.

Alex looked thoughtful for a moment. Then he said, "I guess that's really about it. Except for your feet. You won't have much support there either. Have to be careful of heel spurs and flattening out your arches too much. But then you only need to work out once a day to keep in the kind of shape Remy expects here. Just take it easy for now too, since you haven't worked out in
weeks."

I nodded. We made our way back to the exercise room where Alex had me stretch for several minutes. It felt good after weeks of virtual inactivity, the only exercise having been pretty much horizontal. We did lunges together, and then squats and pushups, all the while laughing at each other's clumsiness and telling crude jokes. Then I got on one of the stairmasters. After twenty minutes I was winded and Alex ordered me to cool down.

I almost started to argue. But then I thought better of it. There was really no reason to push myself. Except for vanity's sake. As an X-man it had been extremely important to keep in top physical form. It might have meant the difference between life and death. Here I was just a body that Remy wanted looking good. An hour a day would maintain the ripples and cuts of my muscles. With a chef to feed me nutritious, balanced meals I'd easily keep in good condition. I wouldn't really have to push myself.

Without a word to Alex, I went back to the bathroom and slipped into the steam room. It was heavenly, lying in the heat on one of the marble benches against the cool tiled wall. Alex joined me shortly, looking like an Adonis, glistening from his sweat and the steam swirling around his form as the door shut behind him. I gazed at him through hooded eyes and licked my parched lips. Damn Remy. This was going to be too much temptation.

Alex gave me a sly lopsided grin, fully aware of my dilemma because it was his too. He went over to the bench farthest from me and settled down with a groan. One arm was thrown across his eyes, the other falling to the floor like Marat in the bath, but very much alive. One leg bent up against the wall, and his limp cock resting down across his straight leg. I sighed in admiration and then closed my eyes to block the view, trying to ignore my need. Trying to think of anything but that still, beautiful body across from me.

After about ten minutes of languid comfortable silence, Alex stirred. "I'm going to hit the showers," he said. "Wanna join me?"

I turned to look at him. He wore that same sly smile. I chuckled. "Stop it Alex," I said. "Quit being such a damn tease."

He barked out a laugh and stood up. "Don't be long then. I'd like to head to the workshop. I want to try and finish up a piece I've been working on. But I need to show you the way back to Remy's suite."

"I thought Remy said we could only come here to the gym or go to the gardens?" I asked.

"The workshop's on the way between here and the suite. I don't think he meant to keep me from using it. After all, I'm being useful. Making gifts for visiting diplomats." Alex moved to the door of the steam room.

"I suppose not. Mind if I keep you company?" I asked. I was disappointed that he wanted to head off to his workshop rather than spend the rest of the day with me. But I couldn't bring myself to tell him that.

"I don't know if Remy would like you coming with me. I'll ask him tonight. But I think you ought to stick to his bedroom for now."

I said nothing and closed my eyes to hide the hurt. After a long pause I heard the door swoosh open and felt the cool draft of the outer room rush in. I wondered if Alex had clued into my disgruntled silence. Finally, forcing back the disappointment I joined him in the showers. He was just finishing up and caught my eye with a studious look. I kept silent and turned on the shower faucet next to his. For a moment it seemed as if he'd say something, but then he just turned back under the spray and finished rinsing off.

He was waiting by the hallway door when I stepped out of the shower stall. I toweled off quickly and without a word we headed back up to Remy's suite. About halfway up Alex asked me if I was paying attention to the route.

I gave him a curt nod and he sighed. "Look Scott, are you pissed because I'm going to the workshop, or because I won't take you?"

For several minutes I kept silent, not sure how to answer him. Finally I said, "Probably both." I turned my head to look at him as we walked. "I haven't seen you in weeks. Remy's the only person I've talked to during that time. And he doesn't talk much. I just thought...I assumed you'd want to spend some time with me." God, that sounded so weird, so needy. Like a jilted lover. I tried to take it back. "Never mind. I'll find something to do."

Alex stopped me with a hand on my arm. "I'm sorry, bro. I'd forgotten how boring it can get up there. My stuff can wait. And I'll be sure to ask Remy if it's okay for you to come down to the workshop whenever."

I smiled shyly. "Really? You're sure? I mean if you need to finish..."

"Naw. It can wait," Alex replied as we walked on.

We spent the rest of the afternoon playing cards and talking. During poker we gambled on who would have to give Remy the next blowjob, laughing, knowing that really wasn't up to us anyway. Servants brought us dinner when Remy hadn't returned. It was a very simple affair. A small salad, a chicken breast, mixed vegetables and water. Lean but tasty. A few more hours spent
playing cards. Then Alex, saying he was feeling tired, climbed into bed. I sat up for another hour reading one of the books I'd taken from the study. Remy still hadn't come home when I closed the book and joined Alex in bed. As I slipped in next to him, he stirred and sleepily pulled me close. He did little more than nuzzle my neck and slide his knee between my legs. Our cocks brushed together enticingly, but I wouldn't deny us this pleasure. Remy could say little about our caresses if he insisted we sleep in the same bed. As long as we didn't cross the line into further intimacy.

Something caused me to stir a little while later. I wasn't quite certain what. But when I looked up through heavy lids, Remy was standing a few feet away in the dimly lit room. His face was shadowed by the glow of light that outlined his figure from behind, but his eyes shone in the darkness. I roused myself, concerned by his stare, half afraid, feeling as if I'd done something wrong.

"Master?" I whispered in the dark.

"Shh..." He said. "Jus' admiring de view."

I sighed inwardly, relieved, and sank back down into the mattress. Remy undressed quickly then and climbed in on top of me. He kissed me into arousal and swiftly buried himself inside me. It was a fast urgent fuck. Almost desperate in its pace. Alex didn't even wake as we reached our mutual climax.

When we had finished, Remy pushed himself up on his elbows to look at me. "Got a surprise for you, cher."

He stood up and pulled me to my feet, leading me around to the couches. There on the coffee table was a guitar case. I ran my hand along the top of the case tentatively.

"Open it," Remy ordered, not unkindly.

Inside was a handsome 12 string guitar. I picked it up carefully with a smile. He was really going to let me learn how to play. I turned toward him, holding the instrument like an offering and said, "Thank you, master."

Remy nodded pleased. "De instructor will be here in de morning. I'm tol' he's very talented. Make me proud, mon cher."

I returned his nod. I was tempted to strum the guitar, but I didn't want to wake Alex. This was a moment I wanted only to share with Remy. So I place the instrument carefully back in it's case and padded over to him. Throwing my arms around him, I gave him a grateful kiss. He met my affection with his own warmth. But I could feel him stifling a yawn, so I broke the kiss and led him back to bed. He was asleep in minutes, curled up against a still sleeping Alex.

Part XXX

The days and nights drifted on. I began to lose track of time. How many weeks passed, I couldn't say. About every other day I met with my guitar instructor. Usually in the morning after I'd eaten and Remy had left to tend to state business. Alex would head down to his workshop or go into the study to write. I was allowed to join him in the workshop whenever I wished. Remy
had laughed when Alex had asked if I could keep him company.

"Sacre! I t'ought dat was understood. You two take t'ings too literally." He shook his head bemused. "Never mind. I'll try to be more specific in my orders, eh?"

After my lessons I'd usually hit the gym, stopping by the workshop to collect Alex. We both enjoyed working out together. It was pleasant time spent laughing and joking. We were fairly competitive too, challenging each other on the equipment or racing on the track. On a few rare occasions Remy would join us. Of course he was dressed during these workouts. But afterward, in the sauna or the showers he'd strip down and take one of us. Or watch us take each other.

As Alex had warned my genitalia became painful and swollen for several days. Especially after I'd taken up jogging again. When Remy was informed of my predicament he insisted I sleep on the couch. He didn't want to be tempted by me lying so close and cause me to have a painful erection. I was grateful for his concern. A few times I'd become half erect and nearly passed out from the excruciating pain. It felt as though someone were pressing on a bruise, grinding their fingers deep into my tender flesh.

The pain and swelling were gone in about a week, and soon I was up to running 3 or 4 miles a day. I found myself still pushing my body as hard as when I'd trained as an X-man. I think it was a survival instinct. I wanted to keep in peak physical form in case I ever saw an opportunity to escape.

In the afternoons I took to dragging my guitar out into the garden to practice. I was getting better everyday. Even the surly temperamental tutor grudgingly praised my ability on occasion, saying I was coming along. I loved this time more than any other. Quietly strumming a new piece or picking out a chord exercise. My favorite spot was a small wooden bench on the East side of the palace toward the back. It sat secluded under what I was pretty certain was a Saucer Magnolia tree. The tree itself grew next to a brick fence that ran all the way to the edge of the woods. Tall shrubs surrounded the tree and bench in a maze-like fashion so that the area was hidden from general view. Had it not been for the inhibitor collar and my nakedness, I could have climbed the tree and scaled the wall to freedom.

As it was the tiny enclosure gave me an illusion of freedom. It was difficult to locate me just by searching the gardens. The first time Remy had sent a messenger to call me back to his rooms, it took him several hours to find my oasis. And only then with the help of the locator chip in my collar. Needless to say Remy was furious. He revoked my outdoor privileges for a week and even ordered me to remain in his bedroom except for an hour a day when I was escorted to the gym for my workout.

"You need to be easily found," He growled. "I shouldn't 'ave to wait more dan 15 minutes at de most!"

I said nothing. Didn't even protest the punishment. But I did let him know that was where I'd be most of the time I went out into the gardens. Still, it wasn't an easy plot to find, even after you'd been there a time or two. Even Alex complained the first few times he came looking for me. But he could at least appreciate the seclusion.

I sorely missed my isolated garden the week I was barred from outside. It was partly my practice room and partly a place to meditate and dream. But it was altogether sweet. A place of inner peace where I could think of Jean and serenade her memory.

Due to Alex's slip of the tongue Remy also had me take voice lessons. It wasn't long before I was ordered to sing for him. Surprisingly I had no sense of stage fright as I sang for him and Alex in his room one night for the first time. I was a little embarrassed, but I didn't panic as I imagined I would. I was, however, rattled by the attention and admiration Remy showered on me. It wasn't many days later when he begain to insist I sing to him whenever he was home. He was especially fond of having me sing him to sleep. I wasn't thrilled by this request. It was too intimate, too personal. But what choice did I really have. A lover by coercion.

Still, as I held him in my arms I could close my eyes and dream of my old life. Dreaming of Jean and quiet times when I could cherish her warmth and love. She had been the best thing in my life. My soulmate. And I missed her still, loved her still.

And Alex was there, so often curled up next to Remy. My true lover. I could sing for him.

One day, after we had fallen into the pattern of palace life -- waking, lessons, exercise, free time, sleeping -- a guard came to the room early in the morning before Remy had left. Remy ordered us to go with the guard. Alex and I were more than a little suspicious, but our master calmed us by saying, "Time for your checkup, mon cheres. Dr. Samson is waiting to make sure you're in good shape. Alex is long overdue, as de good doctor pointed out."

I breathed a sigh of relief. Dr. Samson was a kindly old man. I had nothing to fear. The exam was just a typical physical. And the bending over and coughing part had never been easier. But then something really pleasant, at least to my mind, came about. An ankle bracelet was locked around my left ankle. Alex, who was seated next to me on another examination table, had one
placed around his left ankle also. The bracelets were thin, gold bands, very similiar in structure to the collars.

After they were secured, the collars were removed. I gazed at the doctor in astonishment as he placed his hands around my neck, pressing in with his fingers to feel for any chafing, cuts or bruises. His touch was gentle and sure, and a thrill of bliss ran through me.

"You have a few old burn spots, looks like." I blinked. It must have happened when Remy had charged the collar. "Nothing serious. And a few scrapes. Looks like the collar dug into your shoulders just a bit." He patted my shoulder. "I'll keep you here tonight to treat the scars and scrapes."

Dr. Samson looked into my eyes for a moment, knowing I was full of questions. "You can speak freely here, dear boy."

I looked down at the ankle bracelet. "Why do we wear the collar, if he has these things?" I asked. I saw Alex nodding out of the corner of my eye.

"Two reasons really," Dr. Samson replied. "First, the ankle bracelets are low intensity. Only meant to be used for these examinations. They really only dampen your power. The lower down an inhibitor device is placed on your body, the less effective it is. And it doesn't have all the whistles and bells that the collar has, like the locator chip and the...correction module. It doesn't cover enough surface area to be useful."

I nodded and looked up at the doctor, saying nothing.

"Second, the collar is more...psychologically effective. Makes a slave feel more like a slave." There was distaste in his tone. I sighed and he patted me on the shoulder again. Then he went over to Alex and examined him. "You're fine. Only a slight bruise or two. But I think I'll keep you over night anyway. A good salve will work out any of the kinks the collar might have caused."

The doctor turned and called for the guard. "They can stay in the infirmary tonight. Alert Lord Remy. Then escort them to their beds."

The guard grunted. "You want them shackled?"

"No, no." He shook his head. "I'm sure they'll be fine. My assistant will attend to them. And there are always two guards posted at the door."

Alex and I spent our first wonderful night uncollared. And away from Remy. I felt free for a little while. Dr. Samson's assistant, a slave himself, treated our necks with an aseptic salve that tingled and a light gentle massage, that extended way passed our shoulders. It was euphoric.

The next morning, however, Dr. Samson quickly evaluated the skin around our necks and nodded in satisfaction. The collars were re-secured and with a sense of loss, we were led back up to Remy's bedroom. Dr. Samson informed Alex and I that every so often we'd undergo a physical and have the collar removed. I couldn't wait until the next time. Alex seemed to agree with me.

Several more weeks passed. Or was it months? It could have been. I'd seriously lost track of time at this point. There were no clocks, no calendars around. I thought this was deliberate on Remy's part. One more way to confuse us, to keep us under control. I had noticed though, that the temperature had begun to drop and on occasion it was too cold to go out into the garden. Fall must have been approaching and this gave me a little sense of the time that might have passed. It had been late April when I'd been abducted. So it must have been months that had gone by. Provided time ran in similar fashion as on Earth. Rescue or escape were looking less and less likely. And the longer I fell into the comfortable life of an obedient pleasure slave, the more I began to fall for my master. The songs were easier to sing. And in my mind Remy was no longer fucking me. He made love to me and I went willingly into his arms. When he allowed it I went into Alex's arms. There was something between us I could no longer deny. Between the two of them I felt cherished. There were days when I didn't even think of Jean. She
became a dream in a sense. My life was here and now. Alex and I were safe. At least it's what I believed. What I allowed myself to believe.

The honeymoon too soon came to an end.

Part XXXI

One night Remy came home early. This was a rare occasion. Alex and I had usually gone to bed by the time he'd returned from whatever state business he'd been involved in that day. He fed us and took us to bed. Nothing unusual for the few times he had come home early. But he seemed distracted. Alex and I were pleasuring him when he suddenly stopped us and pushed us both away. I sat back startled, worried that I'd done something wrong. But then he told Alex and I to pleasure each other. I was a little disconcerted and concerned. Most of the time he demanded his own release before us. But Alex's mouth on my nipple soon drove away any thoughts. When we'd finished Remy was asleep. And there was no lovemaking later that night as was the precedent.

The next night, Remy never came home. Sad to say, I missed him when I woke up the next morning and didn't find him in bed. He returned the night after and informed us he'd be taking us to council in the morning. That night he stayed with us and I found the lovemaking poignant and sad for some odd reason I couldn't put my finger on.

As he promised, Alex and I were led with leather leashes to the council room. Remy sat on the throne at the end of the room. I knelt on his right, Alex on his left. Remy had instructed us to remain quiet during the meeting. It was a moot point. None of these councilors would want to hear from two slaves. But I listened. I kept my eyes lowered, yet watched the room all the same. I put names of councilors to faces. I concentrated on the state business that was discussed, but I was particularly interested in the economic concerns of this country. Genosha was facing a blockade from a neighboring country. There was
talk of war.

And then there was talk of slaves. Nothing was said out loud in the general assembly. But there were grumblings. I could feel the sneers and scowls of some members of the council directed at us as they approached Remy. But thankfully none of the councilors laid a hand on us. I think it would have been frowned upon, not just by Remy but by the social standard. Favorite
slaves were not touched unless permission was given, such as had been given at the party some months before. And Remy stayed close to us, rarely leaving his seat of power.

After that first day we began to go with him to council often. If I could place a time pattern to this activity I'd have said we went three times a week. But while we attended these meetings more frequently, Remy began to leave us alone more and more at night. This left me with a strange sense of loss. I missed his smile, his charm, his touch and smell. I think I was jealous. Jealous of whoever was taking him away from me. Was he going to the slave quarters? Was he visiting the women's quarters? Were we boring him? Was I boring him? I kept silent. And so did Alex. But I think an anxiety was growing in both of us, despite the fact that he was as loving as ever when he did come home to us.

After about the sixth week of going to council meetings according to my estimate, Remy stopped taking us to the assembly. But I understood why. He was being pressured to keep us out of sight. At the last meeting we attended, Councilor Constantine approached Remy as everyone was leaving. I'd seen him before and had learned his name when he spoke in council. He was probably in his late fifties, a handsome man, tall, graying at the temples with a dark thick mane. And he seemed practical, reasonable. My first impression was that he didn't approve of kidnapping mutants from Earth. He never said this in front of the members of the council. But I noticed he never came with a slave like most of his peers. And he wore an expression of disapproval every time slavery was mentioned.

As Constantine walked toward Remy this day I watched his eyes fall on Alex, and then he turned to look at me. He was frowning. But rather than disdain he had a look of disappointment.

"Milord." He bowed to Remy. "A word if you please?"

Remy nodded for him to continue. For a moment he seemed just a tiny bit uncertain, his glance moving to Alex again. Alex had his head down, but I could tell by the way he kept his arms dangled at his sides, purposely relaxed, that he was listening as intently as I. Constantine came to a decision then and began to speak in earnest.

"Milord, there's been rumors. I don't usually listen to the gossip among your courtiers, but this...I feel things are getting out of hand with..." he paused, searching for the right word or phrase, "our system of slavery."

I couldn't see Remy's face, but I imagined him tilting his head and cocking an eyebrow has he said, "Out of hand?"

"Yes." Constantine straightened visibly, more sure of himself now. "Many of the councilors and nobles have spoken harshly about your Alpha mutant slaves." He nodded to both of us in turn. "Some have voiced outrage. Others feel that if you have two in your stable, why must they settle for Beta class mutants. Monark, Bertucci, Escalada...they've always wanted an Alpha." His
voice took on a sneering tone. "Escalada has made it perfectly clear he'd like to breed one."

"I'm aware." Remy spoke quietly. I could feel the anger radiating from him, but also the anxiety. This situation was getting out of hand and he was nervous.

"I don't agree with the kidnapping of mutants as you know," Constantine was saying and I turned my attention back to the conversation.

"Oui," Remy replied. "I know you only buy slaves born and bred here."

"Yes. But if others want 'earthers' and the law allows it -- within reason, of course -- then who am I to argue. Slavery hasn't necessarily been a bad thing for our country. Or this world."

I scowled with my head bowed. So much for looking toward Constantine as a possible ally.

"I'm worried though," he continued. "Alpha mutants are rare. And if too many are taken, it might be noticed."

"The count is low and all are registered," Remy replied evenly. "I don't think Earth will really care. Most of de human population don' like dem anyway. I would t'ink dey'd be happy for us to take dem off our hands."

I saw the councilor nod. "True. But most of the Alpha mutants have powerful non-mutant friends. Brilliantly minded friends who might discover the portals. And what really had me worried was hearing one councilor mention taking Johnny Storm for his stable."

My head came up at that before I could stop it. Remy glared down at me. And Councilor Constantine gave me a cautious look. I dropped my head immediately cursing my lack of restraint. Remy knew I was listening. He wasn't an idiot. But he didn't want to see it so obviously portrayed. He didn't want to be made aware of the fact that I was gathering information. I didn't want him to be aware of that fact either. It was a subtle dance between us. As long as I kept my head down, acted the perfect submissive, then he could continue to believe I wouldn't try to escape. And he wouldn't have to punish me for my overtness. Of course he had the advantage. But I needed to maintain the illusion. Cross that line and I'd be in trouble. And what galled me more was Alex's ability to remain calm. He hadn't looked up. He hadn't give one sign that he'd heard what Constantine had said. And he was supposed to be the temperamental brother. The one who reacted with more passion to a situation. I was supposed to be the cool-headed one.

I sighed inwardly and tried to get my mind back on what the two men were saying. Once the initial irritation and embarrassment of my reaction subsided, I found what Constantine had said very, very interesting. Johnny Storm wasn't a mutant. And the Fantastic Four were highly regarded on Earth. His disappearance would cause an uproar. And Reed Richards was one of the
most intelligent men on my planet. If anyone could detect the portals and find a way over here, it'd be him. I gave a silent prayer that the councilor in question would try. It might just trigger a rescue.

Remy's absences at night had put thoughts of escape back in the forefront of my thoughts in the last few weeks. I'd even cautiously approached Alex about freedom. But he was still adamant that escape was impossible. And rescue highly unlikely. Besides, Remy could easily find us again and would just bring us back. I let the matter drop.

"I'll look into de matter." Remy told Constantine.

There was a short pregnant pause and then Constantine said, "Perhaps it would be wise to keep these two slaves out of sight for a time. Their presence in council is a goad to many of the council members."

"D'ccord," Remy snapped, dismissing the councilor with his tone. "T'ank you for your advice. I'll take it under consideration."

Constantine bowed and left quickly. Remy sat pensively for several moments. Then he gathered up our leashes and led us to the door of the council room. Two guards were stationed outside and he handed the leashes to one of them.

"Take dem back upstairs." He ordered, looking distracted, his eyes out of focus.

The guard tugged roughly on the leather leashes, pulling us away from our master. When I had a chance to look back, he was gone.

Alex and I didn't talk about what we'd overheard. Not at first. After all his vehement dismissals of ever escaping, I didn't think this latest bit of information would change his mind. But when night came and we lay in bed, waiting for Remy, Alex suddenly said, "Do you think it's possible? Do you think Richards could find Storm here?"

I looked at the outline of his face in the darkness. He was staring up at the ceiling, his head resting in his hands. "I don't know. Do you want to be rescued?" It was churlish of me, I know. But after all this time for him to finally give voice to the tiniest bit of hope, annoyed me.

"Of course!" He replied. But I could hear a faint note of hesitation and dread. It echoed my own. We'd been here so long. Perhaps only months, but so much had happened in that time. Alex and I both knew how much we'd been changed, conditioned. One question circled around and around in my head, wrapping up every question I had about escaping or being rescued into one neat angst-ridden package: could I really return to my old life?

Alex turned over and nestled his head on my shoulder. I could feel a faint trembling in his arm as he wrapped it around my chest. And I knew in that instant he wasn't seeking sexual intimacy. He was looking for comfort from his big brother. He was afraid. I pulled him closer and held him tight as we drifted off to sleep.

Part XXXII

Remy stayed away for two days. Alex and I went on with our daily routine. I had my guitar and voice lessons. Then Alex and I would meet at the gym for our daily workout. It had grown too cold to go out into the garden, and it didn't look as though it was going to let up. So I practiced in the bedroom in the afternoon for a few hours. It wasn't nearly as pleasant as the secluded garden had been. But I'd have to make due. Remy wasn't going to let me put on clothes to go outside.

As night fell on the second day, Remy returned with two guards. This struck me as odd. He hadn't posted guards outside his bedroom in months. That was how sure he was that we wouldn't go where we weren't allowed. That we wouldn't go looking for the portal room. But I soon realized the guards weren't here to stand watch at the door when Remy asked me where my brother was.

"In the workshop," I answered cautiously.

Remy gave me a searching look and caressed my cheek. "Been practicing more, mon couer?"

"Yes."

"Bein." He smiled kindly. "You've been getting good. I won't need you tonight."

I was stunned by his words, not only by the rapid change in topic, but also by the content. He wouldn't need us? I couldn't quite understand what he meant. But all he said by way of explanation was that the two guards were here to escort my brother and I to the slave quarters. We were to remain there until he summoned us. I felt a pang of fear and a wash of jealousy. Was
he breaking in a new slave? A new favorite? After all his professions of lust and need, were we no longer interesting enough to keep his attention? I dropped my head trying to hide my scowl, but there was no need has he had turned away to give instructions to the guards to stop by the workshop and pick up Alex. Then Remy began to undress and head for the bathroom. As he placed a hand on the doorknob, he paused and looked back at me.

"If you and your brot'er want to take pleasure in each ot'er, I give m'permission." I felt as if a door had been slammed in my face. Before I could reply, Remy had gone into the bathroom.

I followed the guards when they motioned for me to come along with them, carrying the guitar. I had no idea when Remy would call us back, so I decided I'd at least get some practice in. I wondered if the lessons would stop. I was due for one in the morning.

The arrival of myself and the guards surprised Alex as much as Remy coming to the room with them had surprised me. "We have orders to escort you to the slave quarters. You're to remain there until Lord Lebeau sends for you."

Alex scowled. "What about the gym? Or my workshop?"

The guard was brusque in his answer as if Alex wasn't worth the time for an explanation. "You are to remain in the slave quarters. Now come on."

Alex set down his tools with a sigh and removed his protective apron, hanging it on hook near the door as he fell into step behind the guards next to me. I looked at him with a sense of dread. "What do you think?"

"Quiet slaves!" One of the guards ordered.

Alex grit his teeth as I glared at our escorts. They didn't even bother to turn around. Arriving at the door to the slave quarters, we were ushered in roughly and the door slammed soundly at our backs. The hall before us was empty. No one was there to greet us and I wondered, *what now?*

I looked at my brother as he gazed down the corridor for a moment, his expression tense and withdrawn. Then he said, "Come on."

He led me to the second floor where his small spartan room was. "What do you think?" I asked again as I walked along beside him.

Alex shook his head. "I don't know. He must be entertaining or..."

He paused in mid-sentence. But I knew his thoughts were echoing my own. "Or we're no longer his favorites," I finished for him.

My brother gave a curt nod. "Well, we've been up there a long time. Five months I think."

I drew in a breath. "Five months? How do you know?"

"I don't," Alex replied. "I'm approximating. The time difference could be significant. It feels like a 24 hour day. But without seeing a clock I can't be sure." I nodded. He continued, "Regardless, we've been up there a long time. Most of his favorites only last five weeks or so."

We said nothing more until we reached Alex's room. Then he told me he had something he needed to do. I could stay here or mingle with the other slaves in the common room. I opted to stay where I was.

"When will you be back?" I tried to sound casual. But Alex avoided my eyes, certainly hearing the accusation in my tone. He was leaving to go to his own favorite.

"Later," he said. But I knew I wouldn't see him again that night. I might not see him for the next few days. *Well, fuck him,* I thought viciously and let him go without another word, seething in my anger and sense of betrayal. I picked up the guitar after he'd slunk away, guilt in every movement. Strumming some chords absently I tried to rein in my bitterness. A minute later I set it down again, unable to concentrate. A little while later I picked it up again, thinking that some of the anger had abated. But then, in a fit of rage I flung the instrument across the room, satisfied to hear a loud crack of the wood as it struck the stone wall. The satisfaction was short-lived. I sunk down on the mattress, lying very still, curled up on my side. My thoughts were in a dangerous whirl. Escape was foremost in my mind. I had to escape now. Even if it meant leaving Alex behind. If he wanted to
stay and protect some slave then fine, let him. I no longer felt obligated to protect him. I felt betrayed. Finally I fell into a fitful sleep. My dreams were tormenting, but when I woke I couldn't remember what they'd been about. My face was tear-streaked.

Alex returned shortly after I awoke. I couldn't say how long he'd been gone. And this irritated me more. I rolled away from him when I saw him look at the cracked guitar against the wall and then back at me. He looked tired, and sad. But I didn't care at the moment. I refused to speak to him, even when he sat down next to me and ran a hand over my hip. Not even bothering to tell him not to touch me.

"Scott..." He began after a few minutes. The plea in his voice was too much.

"Shut the fuck up, Alex!" I hissed.

"But..." He tried again.

"Tell it to your fucking favorite!" That shut him up. He let out a defeated breath and lay down with his back against mine. We lay like that for a long, long time saying nothing. I could tell he couldn't sleep either. Eventually the curiosity got the better of me.

"Who is it?" I whispered harshly. Alex was quiet for several minutes. Then he rolled over and wrapped an arm around my waist.

"No one special." He lied.

"Then why won't you tell me who it is?" I asked angrily.

"Because it doesn't matter. They're not important. I was just checking to see..." he paused momentarily, "that they were okay."

"They?" I asked, not missing the plural. "You've got a stable of your own down here?" I sneered.

Alex sighed, a little frustrated. Then he murmured in my ear, "Don't worry about it." His hand stroked my belly in circles, moving closer and closer to my traitorous cock. "I'm here now. I wasn't gone very long."

"Yeah right." I gave an audible sigh, certain he was lying. Something had happened. It was why he had seemed so sad. He must have fought with his favorite or favorites. Or maybe they'd denied him comfort because he'd been away for so long. But I was in a turmoil. I could call him on it. Press the issue. I had no real advantage though. Nothing with which to make him answer me, except perhaps guilt...and my body. I let the matter drop. But I kept facing the wall and kept up my stony silence.

"I'm here," he whispered again. "I'm not going to abandon you." Without warning his hand cupped my hardening length and I bucked slightly.

He began to stroke me slowly, pulling me onto my back and leaning over to kiss me. I jerked my head away. "Don't!"

Ignoring my plea, knowing I was weakening under his talented fingers, Alex began to bite and suck at my neck. I balled my hands into fists, refusing to touch him, trying to deny him. But his hand on my prick, softly pulling and stroking, a finger running the length of a large vein on the underside, his lips trailing down to capture a nipple was too good. He was good. So very, very talented.

Suddenly he shifted, straddling my hips. My eyes flashed open as his hand stopped fisting me. He was stretched over me and to the side reaching for something in the bedside drawer. I almost threw him off, but he was quickly back above me, dragging his groin across my skin. I dropped my head onto the pillow with a quiet groan. It was good thing he didn't chuckle at that moment or show some smug sign of victory, because I was on that edge between violence and lust. One word and I would have struck out at him.

I shuddered violently as his mouth came down on my cock, dropping over the edge into lust. He took his time, sucking the purpling head and then lowering down to take in all the flesh. Over and over until I was close to climaxing. Then he would back off. Again and again he drew me close to the brink of orgasm. And each time he stopped until he was certain I wouldn't cum. And just as I was about to shout at him in frustration, he kneeled up over me and lowered himself down onto my straining erection.

"Shit! Alex!" I rasped. This was the first time he'd ever let me penetrate him. He'd always topped me. Remy had always wanted it, saying how much he liked to watch my face the first few minutes when Alex pierced me. I suffered the pain so well, he said. And somehow I didn't think Alex would ever have offered up his own ass.

Yet here he was lowering himself on me, squeezing his muscles tightly, just below the head of my cock. And I gulped in needed air, curling my fists into the sheets of the bed, trying to thrust up. I only got a few inches off the bed before he slid all the way down, engulfing me.

"Hold still," he told me and raised back up off my cock. And then he began to ride me, slamming over and over, gripping me firmly, then relaxing.

"Alex!" I cried, opening my eyes to see him arching away and throwing back his head. I took his erect penis in my hand and began to stroke him in time to the punishing rhythm he set. One, two, three strokes and he was cumming hard over my hand yelling my name. As he climaxed, his ass clamped down around my entire cock and I bucked up a final time, drenching him, feeling as if I were being sucked into him, a part of me left inside of him and thrilled that I was there.

Alex collapsed on my chest with his nose pressed into my neck. "Scott, Scott, Scott..." He chanted softly over and over until he whispered, "I'm sorry."

I wrapped my arms around him and held him tight. All my anger and betrayal drifting away in the afterglow. "It's okay. It's okay." We fell asleep like that, Alex in my arms, knees bent up along my hips, hugging to me like a child, like my baby brother.

Hours later we were awoken rudely by a leering guard. "Time to go back," he said gruffly.

Part XXXIII

When we got back to the bedroom, Remy wasn't there. I'd been so excited that he'd called us back so soon that I'd expected him to be waiting for us. He wasn't and I was filled with bitterness and jealousy. We still did not seem to matter to him.

Two more days passed before we saw him again. Remy greeted us warmly, full of love and affection. Until he asked me to play my guitar. When he saw the state it was in he exploded. Could I not take care of the gifts I was given? Spoiled he called me and cursed me in French and Cajun. There was nothing I could say to appease him. And when Alex tried to step in, to say it was an accident, Remy cracked him hard across the cheek.

"You know de pressure I'm under, hein?! All I ask when I come home is to relax, to enjoy a quiet evening in pleasure. And what to I get?!" He turned on me, his face inches from mine. "Ungrateful cheins! Breaking dere toys cause dey t'ink dey're bein' passed over!" I flinched slightly under the truth of his words. Remy's red eyes began to glow. "You t'ink all dese nights I've been away, I've been 'aving a grand time?" He asked, grabbing my chin and digging his fingers into my skin. "I need a wife, homme! De pressure is building. Council members saying dat I must honor de old ways and marry. Produce an heir! And so I must be paraded in front of all de eligible daughters of my court like some fatted calf. And den to 'ave to come back here and deal wit' your tantrums?! Merde!" He thrust me away and hollared for the guards.

"Take him to de playroom," Remy ordered through clenched teeth. "Lock him in de stocks and put de cock device on him." I stepped back, eyes wide in shock and anger. I tried to push back the rising panic. Not that. Not again. I tried again to apologize. If he'd only listen. "I...I'm..." I swallowed in a too dry throat. "I'm sorry!" I choked out.

But Remy just waved a hand. "Too late! Maybe a night in de stocks will teach you treat de gifts I give you better, eh?"

I glanced over at Alex as one of the guards took my arm. He stood by looking helpless, his face red where Remy had struck him. And has I watched him step toward Remy, my fear evaporated, leaving only a quiet fury. "Master, please," he began in a beseeching voice.

"Non!" Remy whirled to look at him. "Don' say anot'er word unless you want to join him!"

Alex started to speak again, when I barked out, "No! Alex shut up!" There was no sense in both of us suffering. And I had to admit I blamed Alex for my own punishment then. He'd been the one to abandon me, causing my 'tantrum'. I didn't want him down there with me whining about how sorry he was. I didn't want to be near him right then. I'd take my punishment if it meant I could be away from the two people I hated most in world at that moment.

My brother opened his mouth, but seeing the stern look on my face, a look that told him how pissed I'd be if he came with me, a look of blame, he might have seen, and a look that promised rebellion, he closed his mouth again and dropped his head.

I let the guards lead me away, not even bothering to look at Remy, or my brother. I didn't fight. But after they'd locked me down and began to prepare me for the cock ring I cursed violently at them, calling them every foul name I could think of. They ignored me and finished snapping the device in place, leaving my cock throbbing with familiar pain. Then they left the room after turning off the lights. *Come full circle,* I thought bitterly and tried to sleep.

I wasn't sure what day it was when the guards returned with two slaves following behind. Time was again lost on me. I'd been barely able to doze and sleep deprivation had muddled my mind. Every muscle ached and my cock throbbed relentlessly. When the door opened and the lights came on, I could only groan in pain from the brightness and in relief that my punishment was at an end. But then I was informed that it wasn't quite over.

"Five lashes," one of the guards grunted.

My head shot up, knocking against the wood of the stocks. "No!" I shouted, finding my voice. "Remy never ordered that!"

The guard sneered. "He gave us the order when he told us to come get you." I suddenly saw the leather strap swinging menacingly from his hand.

"NO! God NO!" I screamed. It did no good. He took his place behind me and struck my back, putting all his weight into the blow. Being whipped that first time by Remy had been worse only because of the number of lashes he'd given me. All the breath went out of me. And I had no time to draw back before the second one landed just above my sacrum. By the fifth crack of the strap I was wheezing, tears pouring down my face, choking on the phlegm in my throat. I struggled for every breath of air. I was sure I was about to throw up. But then my torso and arms were released from the stocks and I fell heavily into the arms of guard who'd beat me. I swore at him through a thick phlegmatic voice, dredging up even more vile words than the last time. Then I did throw up. The guard turned my body on it's side to keep me from asphyxiating on the bile and snot, chuckling at my weakness.

"There, there now," he said to me sarcastically. "See what happens when you get mad at your betters, slave?" When I'd finished coughing and gagging, he motioned to one of the slaves standing nearby. "Clean him up." The slave looked puzzled for a moment. "Use your hand!" The guard barked.

The young slave bent down and wiped up the spittle from my lips, gesturing for me to open my mouth. Using his fingers he scooped out a few long strands of clear spit. I wanted to do it myself, embarrassed by this show of weakness, but my arms hung stiffly at my sides. I could barely twitch my fingers. Finally he stepped back and I spit out the last of the phlegm. Then my ankles were unlocked and I was dragged from the stocks and lifted up onto a masseuse table, just as I'd been the first time I was released from the stocks. And I realized that the two slaves were Bert and Ernie, the ones who had worked on my body that first time.

I quieted myself and let them work. But silent tears fell. I couldn't believe Remy had ordered this. I could feel myself sinking slowly into depression. And thinking, however irrationally, that I'd deserved it. I'd been ungrateful.

Finally the two slaves were finished. My circulation had returned and the sparks of pain trailing up my arms and legs had eased. My back ached, but I could feel it was only bruised. With a weak push, I swung my body sideways and placed my feet on the floor. I used the table to force myself up into an unsteady standing positions. The guards were at my side immediately. Each
taking an arm, they half drug me from the room. One of them called to the slaves to clean up the mess I'd made. Just as we entered the hallway, the guards stopped and one of them produced a thick metal chain. Unlike the leashes Remy had used, this one locked in place. The lock was coded so that to remove it, one had to know the combination.

When it was secured to my collar, I was dragged back upstairs to Remy's bedroom. Still not quite over the stiffness and pain from the long night, I stumbled along after the guards, desperately trying to keep pace. They seemed to find amusement in my predicament, the one holding my leash yanking it often and quite roughly when I lagged behind. Several times I tripped, crashing to my knees on the hard marbled floors of the castle hallways. The guards never slowed down and I had to scurry to get to my feet or be dragged across the floor. By the time we reached the door to the suite, several bruises were beginning to form on my knees and elbows and the heels of my hands. I could feel my neck torn in several places and abraded in others where the collar had ground against the skin when I'd been too slow to get to my feet. My head was throbbing. And my cock was still secured in the ring. I prayed to God that Remy wouldn't be there to demand more of my attention. And I prayed that he would be there, so he could see how harshly I'd been treated by the guards and perhaps take pity on me.

He wasn't anywhere to be seen when I was shoved into the bedroom. Alex was lying at the end of the four poster bed, a chain leash similar to mine locked to his collar at one end and secured at the other end to a ring in the right post of the bed about two inches off the floor. When he looked up to see me stagger through the door, he got to his knees. The guard brutally shoved me
toward the left post of the bed and I stumbled to my knees next to Alex. My brother caught me by my shoulders then and hugged me to him before I could warn him about the lash marks. As soon as I hissed in pain, he released me to look over my shoulder at the welts.

"Shit!" He cursed. Suddenly the guard who'd come in with me moved between us and drove Alex back with his spear.

"There is to be no talking between you two by order of Lord Remy. Or touching." He then ordered me to kneel close to the left post and locked the chain to the ring attached near the bottom. Then he stepped back and grinned at me cruelly. "You can take off that cock ring though." I looked at him warily as if it were some kind of trick to get me punished further. But then he added, "Any mess you make you better lick up. Lord Remy wouldn't like to see his carpet stained." I snarled. He knew I'd probably cum the moment I removed the penile device. And I doubt he would have given me anything to wipe up the sperm. I'd have to clean it up with my hands and mouth. After having thrown up once today, I knew my stomach wouldn't be able to cope with
sucking down my own jism, so I left the device on for now. With a smirk, the guard stepped back and took up position at the wall across from us. Apparently he was to make certain we followed Remy's orders.

I knelt in place for a long moment, refusing to look at Alex. The helpless fury I'd felt during the entire ordeal was gaining momentum and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to stop myself from striking out at him. But I could feel his hopeless gaze on me. He knew I was blaming him, might have even understood the depth of my hatred, and he was looking for absolution. I couldn't give it to him. Not right then.

Finally, I stretched out on the soft carpet with my back to Alex and closed my eyes trying to sleep. But I couldn't find a comfortable position in which to rest. I couldn't lie on my back because of the sting of the lash marks. When I rolled onto my stomach, my bruised knees chafed against the carpet. And in any position, the collar around my neck dug into the cuts and
abrasions. I tossed and turned restlessly until simple fatigue wore me down and I fell into an uneasy sleep. I knew Alex was watching me the entire time. I knew he tried at one point to convey some comfort. But as he reached his hand out to stroke my tormented body, the vigilant guard stepped forward and cracked Alex's forearm with the end of his spear.

"No touching!" He shouted. "I have orders to break your fingers if you do!" Alex was sensible enough not to challenge the order, but I could feel the heat of his rage flowing out from him, and my own anger abated.

When I woke from my fitful sleep, I rolled over to find Alex still staring at me. His eyes shone with anger and unshed tears. And beneath it I spotted pure desolation. I wanted to touch him then. My own anger toward him had been quelled by a heavy weight of depression that had come upon me while I slept. And all I wanted to do at that moment was to hug Alex. I only had enough energy for that. I rose to my hands and knees intent on crawling over to him, but he shook his head and looked over to where the guard was standing. He was straightening up with a warning scowl, so I sat back on my knees, closed my eyes and hung my head. This inability to touch or speak or comfort my brother was maddening. It was worse than being locked into the stocks. I dropped back down onto my side, letting the wave of depression take hold of me.

Night was falling when I looked over at Alex again. He was stretched out on his side watching me. His head rested on his left elbow and he was running a finger through the thick carpet. At first the motions of his hand appeared random and casual, as if he were simply bored. He'd swirl the finger in a circle, then slash down in a straight line. After a moment he'd run the palm of his hand across the rug, smoothing out the indentations he had made, never once taking his eyes off me. Circle, circle, line, circle, smooth. It took me several minutes of watching him before I realized he was writing words. A message. My eyes widened in excitement, but he frowned and gave a sharp jerk up with his head. 'Don't alert the guard,' he was saying. I closed my eyes and then opened them just a fraction to look at the guard through my lashes. He wasn't paying much attention to us, so I went back to watching my brother. For a long while I couldn't make out what he was writing and I was getting frustrated by the effort. The letters seemed familiar, but the words didn't seem to make sense. I thought it was a trick of the light, or Alex wasn't writing them clearly enough. But then one of the symbols became clear to me. It was Sh'iar for the letter X. Alex was writing in Sh'iar. I held back a bark of laughter, but one side of my mouth twitched up in a lop-sided grin. My brother's face lit up and he let out a pent up sigh.

Smoothing out the carpet one more time, Alex wrote, "Sorry."

"Oh shut up." I answered. But Alex knew I wasn't angry anymore. At least not at him.

We used this form of communication until the sun began to set and the guard lowered the lights in the room. Then a servant brought us the evening meal consisting of a rice and broccoli casserole, bread and water. I sat up to eat and realized suddenly that the length of the chain wouldn't allow me to stand up. Why I hadn't noticed that before seem peculiar to me. I could only rise to my knees by moving closer to the post, or stretch out over the carpet. Fortunately the rug was soft and comfortable. But I felt like a dog chained to its dog house. It was humiliating and no doubt intentional. Alex and I were vulnerable in this position, with little leverage to strike out at any assailants. I don't think I'd ever felt more like a slave has I did being chained to that bedpost.

"Escape." I wrote over and over as we ate, watching the guard through lowered eyes, making sure he wasn't watching us too closely. I was getting very good at looking up through lowered lashes.

Alex just gave a slight shake of the head every so often and wrote, "this won't last." It wasn't much comfort.

After we'd finished eating, we were taken one at a time to the bathroom to relieve our bladders and get ready for sleep. I was stiff getting to my feet and stumbled several times to the door of the bathroom. But I couldn't think of anything more wonderful than those first few minutes positioned over the urinal as I removed the cock ring and ejaculated forcefully. It was a pain so
exquisite it bordered on ecstasy. The pressure was gone, my bladder soon empty and I had to slump down on the toilet for a moment to regain my equilibrium. A moment more and I felt a wash of relief that I had waited to remove the hideous device. The guard made no mention of it as he stood by the door waiting for me to finish up. I ignored him as much as I could, out of
anger and spite, taking my time as I filled the tub and began to soak my still sore limbs. But it wasn't long before he ordered me out of the bath, stating that my time was up. I got out with a sigh, although all-in-all feeling a good deal more human. I continued to ignore the guard for a few minutes more, taking the time to brush my teeth. I think I was goading him in a way, challenging him to assert whatever authority he had over me. But he simply left me alone to finish up, and soon I had no real excuse to stay in the bathroom. And of course, Alex was waiting for his turn.

The guard locked me back in place, and then escorted my brother into the bathroom. I lay there, listening to the faint sound of the shower running, feeling drowsy, but unable to sleep. My mind remained constantly alert to the sounds of the suite. Alex didn't take near as much time as I had, returning within minutes and settling down on his side facing me. He was almost asleep by the time he'd rested his head in the bend of his elbow. I watched him for a long time, listening to the sound of him sleeping peacefully. It was helping my mind wind down. But still I couldn't quite pass over into sleep. I was waiting for Remy. I thought if I could only speak to him, beg his forgiveness, he'd let us up. Eventually weariness in both my body and spirit wore me down and I dozed off.

When I was awaken by the stream of sunlight shining through the window, there was no evidence that Remy had ever returned. The bed had not been slept in and a new guard was maintaining the watch over us.

Alex and I were fed breakfast, then allowed to go to the bathroom to freshen up. We were locked back in place afterward and time drifted on. The sun rose higher in the sky and with so little to do, I slept for a bit. Around midday two guards came in and unlocked us from the bed. We were escorted to the gym and ordered to exercise. Then we were ordered to shower, all the while told to maintain the proper distance between each other. Even here we weren't allowed to speak. When we'd finished showering we were led back to our place at the end of Remy's bed and again chained to the posts. We were fed a light lunch. Then an afternoon of waiting followed while Alex and I perfected our communication technique. I didn't bother mentioning escape to Alex. It seemed so futile by then. Even chained like a dog to his post, my brother wouldn't contemplate breaking out of his captivity. The evening passed with little change from the previous night. A new guard stood watch. We ate and then were escorted to the bathroom. And then we settled in for the night. And still Remy stayed away.

Two more days went by without a change in the pattern, and if Alex and I hadn't been able to talk through the carpet writing I really believe I would have gone insane. The only voices we ever heard came from the guards. Just a few simple words to each other as they changed shift. Or an occasional bark at my brother and I when we got too close to each other. I hungered for the
sound of Alex's voice. I craved his touch. Why was Remy punishing us in this way? Surely my small infraction didn't warrant this kind of treatment. The guitar was cracked, but not beyond repair. What was the underlying cause of Remy's wrath? Pressure from the council? Anger from having to entertain all those eligible daughters? And how could I get him to see how wrong this punishment was? It didn't fit the crime. At least to my way of thinking.

I had my chance on the fourth day when Remy finally returned. But he said absolutely nothing to us, only acknowledging the guard with a swift nod as he began to undress. I had risen to my knees has he strode through the door. Alex was slowly waking from a nap. When he wouldn't even look at us I had to speak. "Rem...Master."

"Quiet slave!" The guard growled. He took a menacing step toward me. I glared at him and then glanced quickly at Alex who was now kneeling beside me. Then I turned my attention back to Remy. He had his back to me and was donning his silk robe. "Please! You have to..."

"Quiet!" The guard roared. In two long strides he was before me. Using his considerable weight he slapped me palm open across the face, knocking me onto my rear. The force of the blow drove my head into the post I was chained to, momentarily stunning me. I heard my brother curse and move toward me, but the guard stepped between us, shoving him back.

"Filthy mongrels!" He snarled, his voice full of contempt. "Lay down like the ungrateful dogs that you are! Lord Remy never gave you permission to speak!"

When I turned to where Remy had been standing a minute before he was gone. My heart sank. Not even a disapproving look to acknowledge our disrespect.

Fuck. "Even a dog gets a pat on the head once in a while." I muttered.

Alex snorted. "Guess we're not the favorite dogs anymore."

The guard barked at us to shut up.

Part XXXIV

Remy emerged from the bath casually arrogant with a smirk and still ignoring us. I watched him intently, trying to puzzle out his mood. He seemed amused. And yet there was an underlying menace to his body language, a tension that could snap if Alex or I crossed a boundary we couldn't even see. I almost let out hysterical laughter when an image came to mind of me sitting back on my heels, hands bent at the wrists and elbows, whining like a puppy. Maybe Remy would at least treat us like dogs. Better than being ignored.

As he slipped into a maroon silk dressing gown servants entered with his evening meal, setting it before him as he settled in front of the coffee table. He ate quickly, appearing not to have even savored the meal, which for him was rather odd. Sex and food had always been two of his favorite pastimes, from my point of view. When he'd finished, he left the room. I continued to watch him the entire time. He never even glanced in our direction. It was as if Alex and I didn't even exist. Or worse, we were simply part of the furniture.

For a long time I sat back on my heels staring at the door. Realizing Remy wasn't coming back anytime soon, I stretched out on my side still facing the door. Occasionally I rubbed my face where the guard had slapped me, the sting still smarting on my cheek. And my head was throbbing where I'd knocked it against the post. I didn't have to touch the site to know a knot was
developing.

So intent on trying to fathom out Remy's mood and motivations, I pretty much ignored Alex. I couldn't even say if he tried to communicate with me through the carpet writing. Perhaps he was just as focused on our master. Perhaps not. It hardly mattered to me. All I wanted at that point was some acknowledgment from Remy. Some sign of concern or anger. If he'd even just glance at us, at least I'd know he thought about us. This cold indifference was infuriating and heartbreaking. I wanted him to like...no, to love us again.

I was dozing lightly when the drone of voices alerted me that Remy had returned. He was speaking to the guard. After a moment the guard left and Remy moved to stand over us. I got to my knees stiffly and said, "Please."

Remy grasped a handful of my hair in his fist and pulled my head back painfully. "Have I given you permission to speak?" His tone was light, cheerful and amused, contradicting the harsh grip he had on my hair. But I could hear the threat buried in the inflection. I shook my head as far as I was able with my locks still wound around his fingers. He let go and began to stroke my head, once scratching behind my ear. "Good boy." He smiled cruelly and I was instantly, shamefully aroused. Without even looking down toward my need, he shifted to Alex and gave him the same treatment. Then he moved back and stepped out of the dressing gown, as if wanting to further entice us. I watched him with a grim anticipation, hoping he'd unchain us and take us back into his bed. But instead he picked up the dressing gown and walked around to the side of the bed, throwing the clothing over a chair and climbing into bed without another word. I felt broken, empty, and my erection wilted immediately. Very soon I could hear the soft whisper of his breath, even and slow, signifying he was asleep.

However, now Alex and I were alone with Remy. No guard was posted to keep us from speaking or touching. I had laid back down when I was sure Remy had fallen asleep. Now I was facing my brother. He was stretched out on his side also, looking at me with a sad smile on his face. Slowly, a bit fearful that the guard would suddenly appear or our master would wake, I inched my hand over to Alex until our fingers were entwined.

We stayed like that for an hour, maybe more, just holding hands, glorying in the connection, the first chance to touch and be touched. As with all things, you can't really appreciate them until they're taken away. Like freedom. I may have been hated and feared on Earth, but at least I could relatively come and go as I pleased. I could make my own decisions. And I had never been forced to endure this frightening loss of connection with other human beings. I was free to love who I wanted. Free to be who I wanted to be. Perhaps the ruby quartz glasses marked me as a mutant, shackling me to a monochrome world of red, but I was really beginning to see that it was a small price to pay for being my own person.

"I'm getting out of here," I whispered to Alex with a newfound vehemence. "First chance I get!"

Even in the dim light I could see my brother's eyes widen in shock and fear at the tone of my voice. I hadn't spoken of escape so fiercely in months.

"This won't last," Alex finally whispered back. "He won't keep us chained here forever. He won't stay mad at us."

"I don't care!" I snapped, still keeping my voice low so as not to wake Remy. "I'm sick of this. One mistake, one fit of anger and he treats us like dogs. It's a fucking nightmare. At least Magneto would have killed us by now. Gotten it over with already. But Remy..." I snarled with distaste, "he wants our love, our respect. He thinks he can make me...us...worship him. And I won't. Ever!"

My brother's eyes came alive with his own anger. "I'm telling you Scott, it won't work. You'll never get away."

"And I'm telling you I don't care!" I whispered furiously again. "First chance I get, with or without you, I'm going to find that portal. Even if it gets me killed, I'm going through. Remy has some hold over you. I can't help that. You're protecting your lover or lovers. Well that's not my concern anymore. Hell! You won't even tell me their name!" I accused. Alex glared at me, but I hurried on, not letting him speak. "I want your help. I want to protect you. But you guard your secrets. How can I help you if you won't even try? If you won't even trust me?"

"Scott..." Alex began softly, trying to protest.

"No Alex! I'm ending this nightmare one way or another. If you want to come with me, if you want to help me, let me know. If not, I'll keep my plans to myself and get out of here. That way Remy can't accuse you of being an accessory."

With that I let go his hand and rolled away from him, curling myself into a ball. I was afraid. Afraid of losing Alex. Irrationally afraid of leaving Remy. And terrified of going home. Of having to face Jean and the others. How would I ever be able to explain all this to them? But the fear only fueled my anger. I would get away from here. And when I was back at the mansion, I'd gather the X-men, contact Reed Richards and maybe even the Avengers and find a way back here to free the 'earthers'. And my brother. And whoever he was protecting. And Zaki. I would find him and bring him home.

I felt a tentative stroke across my back. One finger traced along a welt that had almost faded. "If you have to, Scott, I won't stop you. But I won't help you either." His voice caught on the words. I could hear a slight tremor as he spoke. "If you need to find out how futile it is, then try. But I'm telling you, however much I admire your intelligence, however much I respect your ability and love you, you won't get away. And when he recaptures you, you'll regret you ever tried." I shook my head ready to argue with him, but the tone of his whispered words stopped me. "No," he said, "you will regret it. He'll make you regret it. You think this is cruel of him. You haven't seen what he's capable of. And then he'll bind you to him like he's done to me."

Alex fell silent and pulled his hand away from my back. I was shivering now, but not from any coldness in the room. I wrapped my arms around my chest and began to rock nervously back and forth. It crossed my mind that I used to do this back in the early days of the orphanage, as a measure of comfort. But the thought was too fleeting to feel embarrassed or weak, so I kept rocking, swearing to myself that I'd make it out. I'd escape.

When I glanced back at Alex, he was turned on his side with his back to me. His shoulders seemed to twitch every few seconds and for a moment I thought he was crying. I wanted to pull him to me. I wanted to hold him and tell him that everything would be okay. But I'd be lying. Nothing would ever be okay again. Not if I couldn't escape and remained Remy's slave until I died. And not if I escaped and came back for him. Nothing would ever be the same. Nothing would ever be okay. And something, perhaps that fear or the sense of betrayal I'd had in the slave quarters, held me back. I left him to his misery. I had my own to contend with. Several hours seemed to pass before I fell asleep.

Part XXXV

I was awoken by a guard digging his meaty hand into my shoulder, shaking me roughly. "On your knees slave!" He ordered.

I blinked and rose slowly to my knees, wiping a red burning pain out of my eyes. I'd been crying in my sleep again. No doubt from bad dreams, but still I couldn't remember what I'd been dreaming. When my eyes had adjusted to the harsh daylight streaming through the window, I saw Remy standing a few feet away, arms crossed, the expression on his face solemn and stony. He waited for the guard to wake my brother. As Alex climbed to his knees beside me, he said, "You've been ordered not to speak to each ot'er, or touch each ot'er."

I opened my mouth to argue, but the look Remy gave me froze the words on my lips. "You've disobeyed," he continued. But he offered no proof. Either he had been able to feel the truth of his words through his empathy, or he was bluffing. It really didn't matter, I realized. Even if we hadn't whispered or reached out to each other for a few hours of stolen comfort, I had the impression Remy would have said we had and punished us anyway.

"Turn and face de bed," he said, his tone quiet but deadly. "Put your hands behind your back." I hesitated for just a moment and the guard stepped forward, spun me around by my shoulders, grabbed my arms and yanked them back behind me, nearly dislocating my left shoulder. My wrists were quickly shackled tightly together.

Then Remy ordered us to open our mouths. I wanted to scream. I wanted to fight against the restraints, against the collar chained to the bed, and the guard. But most of all I wanted to fight Remy, to curse him for all he'd done to me, for all he was about to do. I wanted to tell him how much I hated him, how much he'd never have my love. I wanted to taunt him, to tell him how Alex still hated him too, how he loved his brother more than he loved his master. And I wanted to goad him, drive in the thorn of his own sorry life, laugh at how he'd been abandoned, used on the streets of New Orleans, hated by most of the thieves in the Guild and never respected by the X-men. Even when he'd led them. But I couldn't. There was no point. I'd seen him suddenly produce the control box to my collar in his hand. He'd activate the collar as he always did and I'd be more vulnerable than ever. Tied once more to the end of the bed and whipped for certain. I couldn't live with that again. Certainly not with Alex nearby, watching the whole grisly scene. And I still didn't want to die.

The guard came up behind me again and thrust a ball gag between my teeth, nearly choking me with my own tongue from the force he used. Before I could spit it out, the gag was snapped securely behind my head. My nostrils flared as I tried to relax my breathing and ease the panic building in my throat. Turning my head in desperation, I searched for Remy through a haze of fear
and anger. He had moved to stand on my right watching me coolly, his expression unreadable. "Face de bed, Scott, or I'll cover your eyes."

I bit down hard on the gag and turned back to face the post I was chained to. I could see the guard take up position in front of Remy, just slightly to my right side and back. In his hand was a riding crop. Seeing it, I almost kicked out at him. I'd felt the lash five days earlier. I wasn't ready for it again. But I had to wonder how he would dole out the punishment with my arms pulled together behind my back. I suppose it didn't matter. He could just lay into my arms with the crop. But then Remy said, "Splay your hands up."

It took a moment for this to sink in. Then it hit me. Like naughty children, Remy was going to have the palms of our hands lashed. I could feel the flush of anger and humiliation rise on my face. But I did as he ordered. I glanced at Alex to see him doing the same.

"You've disobeyed," Remy began. "You've spoken to each ot'er. And you've both touched MY property wit'out consent." I flinched. "For dat your hands will be punished to remind you in de future to keep dem to yourself. I don' have time to spend correcting you. I considered sending you to a trainer for further conditioning, but right now it's an inconvenience. So, for now, I'll make it easier for you to obey."

I almost let out a laugh at that. 'Make it easier.' Lord, he was unbelievable. I wondered how far his depths of cruelty and selfishness went. "Until tomorrow morning, you'll stay as you are. No food. No water. You'll be allowed to use de bathroom tonight. But only to piss. I don' want my carpet ruined. Tomorrow, if I feel you've been sufficiently remorseful, I'll release you. But while I'm here, whenever de guards are away, you'll be bound like dis to prevent you from de temptation to speak or touch each ot'er. Do you understand?"

I wasn't sure what to do. I looked to Alex for a moment and saw him nodding in answer. I followed his lead and Remy said, "D'accord. Ten cracks across bot' hands. Move dem and I add anot'er for each time dey move. Begin."

The guard moved to my right and drove the riding crop down against my palms. It stung unmercifully and I almost drew away. But at the last moment I steeled myself, shutting my eyes tightly, and bit down hard into the rubber ball gag, hoping it'd help to endure the pain. I did unconsciously, however, ball my hands up into fists. And the guard tapped the knuckles, barking at me to open them up. *He could do worse,* I thought hysterically. I was vulnerable in this cuffed and chained position, afraid that if the guard got rough and cropped me across the back or shoved me to the floor, I'd break a bone or tear a tendon. So I opened my hands and tried to prepare for the next blow.

The second strike didn't seem as severe as the first. Don't get me wrong. It stung harshly and I knew that after ten my hands and fingers would be raw and red. There'd be a good deal of swelling too. But the physical pain could be dealt with. The emotional pain would be worse. I was furious without a doubt. Yet still there was this terrible lingering sense that I was getting exactly what I deserved.

Again and again the crop came down on both hands. At least I was able to keep the breath in my body. My lungs weren't grasping for air. But my hands were on fire. And at the count of ten, when I sighed in relief that it was finished, the guard cracked the crop down once again. At this I curled my hands into fists on purpose and shook my head.

"Anot'er den, added to de ot'ers dat are still left. Open your hands, Scott, or you'll receive an additional one." My mind whirled with pain and helpless rage. It was useless to fight. Ten lashes for each hand was really twenty across them both. Unfair. So brutally, viciously unfair. I opened my hands. And eleven more lashes fell. I felt a trickle of warmth at the end. The guard had broken skin, and the blood was oozing down between my fingers. As he moved away from me to start on Alex, I clenched my hands into fists, stopping the flow by pressure. It was agony. But I knew that if I didn't move my hands, the pain would be worse later on. Some contracting of the muscles would stiffen the skin and it'd be impossible to move them for the pain.

And I didn't believe Remy would allow our hands to be treated with the salve that had been used to ease our bruises and welts before. I slumped forward as the guard took position next to my brother, and rested my head against the post. Tears burned in my eyes, but I refused to let them flow freely. I refused to show Remy any contrition.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Alex's face contorting with pain. He made no sound, at first. And he kept his face turned slightly away from me as if he didn't want to acknowledge my being there next to him. I'd never seen him punished before and it tore at my heart to hear the whistle of the crop and snap of leather against my brother's flesh. If I'd thought the blows to my own hands were bad, I soon discovered listening to the whip striking across my brother's hands was much worse. With each hiss, each moan let out despite his hard pressed lips trying to hold them back, I flinched.

By the fifth strike, I couldn't hold back the tears. How much more would we have to endure? Alex had said this wouldn't last. But I was doubting his words more with every crack of the lash. Remy was furious. He was cruel and hateful. I couldn't begin to see his motive for this ordeal. I couldn't fathom what was going on behind those scarlet eyes. And it hurt me more than I cared to admit. I swore to myself once again that I'd get out of here. Somehow, some way I'd escape.

Finally, Alex's punishment was over. I saw him drop his head in utter defeat and I choked back a sob. Remy stepped up between us and patted our heads. "Dere, dere. You'll learn, mon cheres. And den we can be a happy family again." One final pat and he was gone.

Part XXXVI

As promised, Alex and I remained cuffed and gagged the rest of the day and on into the night. It was torturous, but no worse than being locked into the stocks. The most agonizing part of the ordeal was not being able to really sleep much. I stayed on my knees for a long time after Remy had left, afraid to move, afraid the guard would misinterpret my actions, afraid Alex would look at me through tearstained eyes that mirrored my own misery. But eventually fatigue wore me down. It wasn't easy, being chained to the bedpost and unable to stand, but after a few false starts I pulled my stiff legs into a crouch and lowered myself to the carpet.

However, lying on either side proved extremely painful from the angle in which my shoulders were wrenched back with the restraints. I could feel my bones poking into the carpet and pressing back into nerve endings. This caused pins and needles to build up along my arms, and then a ticklish kind of painful numbness that radiated to my belly. The cuffs chaffed against my wrists. The collar dug into my neck almost every time I repositioned myself. I could feel the bruises forming underneath. Lying on my back was simply out of the question.

Somehow I managed to make it onto my stomach, but after a few minutes my arms began to burn from further strain they were put under. And I had to keep turning my face from side to side. Without my arm to pillow my head on there was no comfortable position to rest it. Exhausted and broken, with a gut wrenching groan, I raised back up into a sitting position. I scooted up close to the bedpost, crossed my legs and leaned forward to rest my brow against
the wood.

My mouth was dry and a thick sludge had formed from the tears I'd shed and the subsequent phlegm that had drained from my sinuses. It was almost impossible to swallow with the gag in, and all through that endless day I had to focus on breathing so I wouldn't panic. I felt choked, stifled, terrified and humiliated.

And I couldn't look at Alex. Not directly. He was quiet at my side. The one time I surreptitiously glanced at him, he was seated as I was and I thought he was dozing. But then his shoulders hitched and a single tear fell from his closed eyes, and I had to look away. I couldn't bear his torment *and* mine. If I could, I would have crawled to Remy on hands and knees to beg his forgiveness. I think in that one moment, seeing Alex's misery, I would have done anything to put us back under Remy's good graces.

And I knew it was exactly what Remy wanted. He knew how hard it was for me to watch Alex suffer. He'd already threatened me with the act. Psychologically he was unmaking me further. Breaking me down into a true slave. I felt this as I sat there, balling my hands into fists, working out the tightness, my palms still burning from the sting of the crop. But why now? Alex and I had
been so well-behaved except for my one moment of anger. We'd done all he'd asked. What more did he need?

And then I realized why with a clarity I'd not had in days. Remy needed a wife. He was away so much of the time now in that search. But when he did finally marry, we'd be left on our own. For how long, I couldn't be certain. There would be a honeymoon no doubt. Then a period of adjustment. Would his wife tolerate us in his bedroom, chained to his bed? Even having grown up in a society that allowed and encouraged pleasure slavery, would a wife want it so obviously thrust in her face that her husband sought sexual gratification in the arms of his male slaves? What would be our role then?

Remy wanted us dependent on his goodwill. "Do you see what your brot'er will suffer if you disobey me?" he seemed to be saying. He was giving us both proof of the punishment he could dole out. He could keep us so close, and yet not allow us to touch or speak to one another. We could watch each other's anguish and yet be unable to comfort. And what then? Were we supposed to see the futility in fighting, in disobeying? Would the days of silence and absence of touch, fused with the nearness, the awareness of something we wanted, needed, but couldn't have wear us down? When Remy finally, magnanimously allowed us our limited freedom, would we kiss his feet and call him savior? The longer I remained seated with my hands bound and my mouth gagged, the closer I came to wanting to do just that. I was dependent on him. He was the only one who could set me free.

I blinked back tears of shame at my weakness. My mind was clouding again without stimulation, with the pain and stiffness of restraint, with the fatigue that came from constant stress and perpetual fear. Because I was afraid. I was terrified.

Finally, *finally*, night fell. A slave came in just as the sun set below the city. I felt rather than saw the guard come near and unlock my leash from the bedpost. He ordered me up and when I was too slow, he grabbed me under one arm and yanked me to my feet. I thought he'd pull my arm out of its socket. But I made it too my feet virtually unscathed. Until I tried to walk. Fire and pricks of agonizing needles shot up through my calves. I stumbled forward, but the guard's meaty fist on my arm held me up. He barked at the slave to help and the young man came quickly around to hold my other arm.

Slowly, painfully we made our way to the bathroom. "You have ten minutes," the guard snapped. Not to me, but to the slave. Without further prompting he dragged me over to the toilet and stood me in front of it. Gripping my cock loosely in his hand, he aimed it at the bowl. Obviously my humiliation knew no end. I wasn't even allowed to hold my own cock while I pissed. With a heavy sigh I dropped my head and let loose a stream of thick pungent urine. I
hadn't had anything to drink since last night, and the urine was dark, concentrated. But I also had not pissed in a day, so there was plenty. And it felt good. To my horror, as the flow came to an end, and the slave shook the last few drops away, I grew erect.

"No time," he muttered under his breath and drew me toward the shower stall. He glanced back at the guard wrinkling his nose. "He smells. Lord Remy may come back tonight. I don't think he'd like having to share the same room with a smelly slave, do you?"

The guard grunted and nodded. "Be quick about it."

The slave pulled me into the stall and pushed me under the shower head. Turning the knob on the wall, a burst of cold water hit me full force, abating any desire I'd had. I coughed and gagged under the spray, streams of snot running from my nose and mouth. In a panic, I bent over trying to dislodge the phlegm, and the young slave, alarmed, took hold of my arm tightly, saying, "I can undo the gag, but if you don't let me put it back in, I'll be beaten by the guard."

I nodded without hesitation and he unsnapped the offending device, pulling it from me. As I coughed and spit violently to clear my mouth and nose, a cloth was put to my face and the slave cleared away all the phlegm. I could breath easily now. I sighed in relief and thanked him. But he waved a hand in front of his mouth.

"Shhh," he whispered, "the guard might hear you." I thought he was being ridiculous. Surely the guard had heard all the coughing and spitting earlier. But then that might be overlooked. Talking couldn't be. So I grew silent and let the slave wash me. Mercifully, as if he knew the torture I was going through, he let the water stay cold and didn't put the gag back in right away. I kept my face turned up to the shower head and drank my fill. Five minutes later I let him put the rubber ball back in, dry me and lead me back to the bedpost.

I felt good, refreshed and looked at my brother as he was dragged to his feet. When he saw me looking at him, I gave him as much of a smile as I could and nodded. Alex nodded back and with the help of the guard and slave, stumbled to the bathroom.

When he was brought back he looked better too. And now I was able to meet his eyes without too much fear and anger and guilt. We gazed at each other for a long, long time. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes and could see Alex blinking back his own. Again, I was swamped by the overwhelming need to touch him, to give him comfort. I almost moved closer to him, thinking I could sit next to him, maybe nudge his shoulder just a bit without the guard being aware. But then the door opened, and Remy walked in escorting a beautiful young woman. He held her hand like nobility, gently, up above her waist line. I got to my knees but made no sound. There was no point. Remy had made his position clear. We were being punished and he'd not veer one inch from his orders. I'd only be punished further if I embarrassed him in front of his guest.

He whispered something to the young girl and she giggled demurely. A courtier's daughter, no doubt. Someone Remy was courting. She ignored us completely.

They drifted to the couches as servants entered with bottles of wine and platters of food. A table was set up, and I noticed with a twinge of envy there were two chairs placed on either side. A single red rose in a bud vase was placed in the center of the table between two red candles.

After the servants had completed setting the table, Remy rose gracefully from the couch and offered his hand to the young woman. Then he seated her at the table. A single servant in a red coat braided with gold and gold buttons, waited on the two. I was surprised it wasn't Henry, but then he was Remy's manservant, so perhaps he didn't serve as waiter when Remy was entertaining female company.

As the servant began opening silver dishes, my stomach rolled in protest and I bit back a groan. Alex and I hadn't eaten in a day, and Remy had said no food or water until the morning. But this was cruel. Deliberately so, and I slumped back on my heels, trying to ignore Remy and his guest.

It wasn't easy to ignore the smell of food, but eventually my stomach settled into a quiet revolt. Remy and the young lady were easier to ignore. From across the room I couldn't hear what they were saying and just watching them grew boring after a while. I tried with some success to push my jealousy deep down inside and ignore it too. Shifting to Indian style, I waited. The night
dragged on as Remy and his lovely companion laughed and talked and flirted.

Finally there was a knock at the door and a polished young man entered the room. He and Remy shook hands, exchanging courtesies. Then Remy gave his young dinner date a chaste kiss and she left with the young man. I let out a long low welcoming sigh. Remy heard despite my trying to keep it quiet, because he turned sharply to narrow his eyes at me until I dropped my own. But when I looked up a minute later he was giving me that knowing half-smile, half-smirk. Then he turned and began stripping as he sauntered off to the bathroom.

I must have dozed off because the next thing I was aware of was Remy standing in front of my brother, naked and still wet from the bath, small droplets of water trickling down his skin. He'd placed a hand softly on my head, fingers twining through my locks. With his other hand he stroked my brother's cheek. The blood began to drain into my groin and I swallowed reflexively around the gag in my mouth.

Remy was holding Alex's gaze. "'Ave you been good, my pet?" My brother blinked in sleepy confusion and Remy smiled. "Of course, cher, how could you not, hein?"

His hand suddenly shifted to the back of Alex's head and he undid the gag, pulling it from his mouth and letting it drop to the floor. Alex coughed and swallowed, clearing his throat.

"Master..." he croaked.

"Shhh..." Remy placed a finger to my brother's lips. "Don' say anyt'ing I'd hate for you to regret."

I sneered at that, but Remy didn't notice. His eyes were glowing ruby slits solely focused on Alex's face, his voice low and husky, his cock fully erect, inches from Alex's lips.

"She was beautiful, non?" Alex knew better than to answer. "But stupid as a cow," Remy continued. "Too much inbreeding in de upper classes here. Dey want to keep de line pure. But look what dey breed. Idiots. N'cest pas?" His hand had slipped around to Alex's face and he ran a thumb along his bottom lip. I shuddered involuntarily and Remy looked over at me, giving me a lazy smile, stoking his fingers through my hair. "But not my boys, eh? Smart, smart my boys. And beautiful. Even bound and gagged. Si beau."

His words ran through me like sweet honeyed liqueur causing me to shiver again, causing me to feel hope. I closed my eyes and when he stroked my face, still purring compliments and soothing words, I turned into his touch. He used none of his charm power. I simply wanted him to touch me. And I nudged his hand a bit toward the back of my head, hoping he'd release my gag too. Instead he drew his hand away with another lazy smile.

Remy grasped his engorged penis, now oozing with pre-cum, by the root and ran it across Alex's lips. "Be a good boy. Be a smart boy. I'll release you in de morning. Not long now."

Without any hesitation Alex opened his lips and let the head of Remy's cock slip in between. Remy began to fuck his mouth and throat with easy gentle thrusts, holding Alex's face to control his rhythm. "Ah, ah, ah..." he rasped, "I miss dis mout'. So hot, so good. Dat's it! De tongue, cher, use de tongue. So smart, so talented." On and on he murmured. Soft words of encouragement. Words that aroused. I was hard and leaking, and couldn't look away. Alex's throat caught my eye as he gulped down Remy's prick, taking it to the hilt. I could swear I saw the minuscule tremors of the muscles spasming, and my own cock twitched with want.

"Sweet mouth. I taught you well, mon cher," Remy boasted. And he had. Alex had a very talented mouth. But as I watched, almost drooling with longing, it wasn't Alex's mouth I wanted, but my Master's cock. Down my throat, up my ass. Just any connection. I wanted him to touch me again. I flushed furiously and turned away. But I couldn't tune out the sounds. Gentle slaps of flesh against flesh, moans and curses of Remy as he neared climax, and the soft clink of metal cuffs as Alex strained forward.

"Dieu!" Remy hissed only a few minutes later and I knew he was cumming. I almost came myself at the sound. And I couldn't help looking back. Remy's fingers were digging into Alex's scalp, his cock pushed into the hilt, his legs tensed together, buttocks straining from release, muscles twitching in pleasure, his back arched, his head thrown back in wild abandon, and his
mouth opened in a silent "O".

Alex milked him for all he was worth. I watched in a hungry daze has he sucked and licked and swallowed until Remy almost had to push him away.

"Bein, bein," he said breathlessly. Bending to retrieve the gag, Remy kissed my brother passionately, clasping his neck tightly. Then he leaned back. "Such a good boy. Such a good slave. Open your mout', cher." Alex, eyes closed, seemed to droop, but he obeyed Remy's command and let the gag be slipped back in between his teeth. Remy snapped it securely around his head. He stood up and moved to stand in front of me. Stroking my head, he forced me to look up at him.

"Sorry, cher. Not'ing left for you at de moment. Perhaps tomorrow." He bent and kissed my forehead, then walked to the side of the bed and climbed in. He was asleep in no time. I slumped back and hung my head, all hope vanished. And this time it was my brother who wouldn't look at me.

Part XXXVII


I stayed awake the rest of the night, unable to wind down, or find any comfortable position to sleep in. Eventually, morning broke through the window. But Remy slept on into midmorning. Alex was awake soon after me. But he still kept his eyes averted, even though I looked at him several times trying to catch his gaze.

When Remy woke he immediately called for the guard. And without a word we were released. At first I could barely raise my arms. My hands were swollen and there was a single long laceration across the middle of my palm. It had broken again sometime in the night, and a thin layer of dried blood surrounded the wound. But I was able to move my fingers. And the swelling wasn't quite as bad as I'd anticipated.

"Get dem somet'ing to eat. Den call Samson and let him 'ave a look at dier palms," Remy told the guard once we were released. "If Samson t'inks dey're hands are not to badly injured, take dem to de gym. Dey are still not to talk to one anot'er or touch. D'ccord."

The guard acknowledged the orders with a respectful nod, and then went to the door to call a servant to bring us food. Remy gave us a final look and then went into the bathroom to get ready for his day. We were eating breakfast when he returned. He ignored us, dressing quickly, and left without another word. Obviously, he was back to being the hard master again. But at least we were free of our bonds.

Alex still wouldn't look at me while we ate. I think he feared I might be angry with him, jealous perhaps because Remy had paid him attention, had used his mouth. I wasn't angry. I was jealous, but I was controlling that emotion. I knew how irrational it was. And so I stared at him, trying to get him to look at me, but he wouldn't. And when he'd finished eating, he laid down with his back turned away from me. I felt a chill pass through me. This wasn't like him. He'd just as soon be angry with me, for not having drawn Remy's attention away.

I watched him until Dr. Samson came by. The doctor examined our hands, tut-tutting and muttering under his breath about Remy's cruelty. When I started to say something, he held up a hand. "Don't get yourself in further, my boy. Remy doesn't want you to speak to me either." Quickly and efficiently he applied a cooling salve to my hands and wrapped them in clean white gauze. Then he moved over to Alex, who still remained on his side.

Bending down, Dr. Samson murmured something to my brother. But Alex just shook his head and held his hands up for the doctor to examine. Samson looked over Alex at me with a questioning frown, but I just shrugged. He finished dressing my brother's hands and stood up. The guard stood to attention.

"Can they exercise?" He asked without much interest.

"They can jog. Or use the stairmaster. No weights for a week. Don't let them use their hands or arms. Keep the dressings dry. I'll be back in the morning to check on them and redress them if necessary."

The guard nodded and escorted the doctor to the door. Then he ordered Alex and me up. We both rose stiffly to our feet and followed him down to the gym. It was hard going, once we got there. The guard decided that jogging would be best, so he led us upstairs after allowing us to piss. I took my time stretching. My arms still felt like dead weight, and being able to now stand I was able to work some circulation back into the muscles. Very soon I felt almost human again.

After the guard decided we'd jogged enough, he took us back downstairs to the showers. One of the pleasure slaves I didn't recognize was there, rinsing himself off after a workout. The guard spoke to him gruffly, ordering him to wash us. That way we'd keep the bandages dry. Then we were led back up to the bedroom and locked down.

The rest of the day wore on. But at least we weren't bound and gagged. I slept most of the day. Alex did too, I was pretty certain, because once we got back up there he turned away from me and lay down on his side again. I watched him for a while, and his breathing was slow and even, so I took it that he'd fallen asleep. And he wasn't going to communicate in our carpet language. I felt a little bereft of that. It was something I'd really missed while being cuffed. But while Alex had seemed fairly energetic while we jogged, in this room he seemed listless, not really interested in anything, including me.

When night fell, the guard came back over to us. "Turn around and put your arms together." He said. I did what he ordered immediately, but Alex seemed to hesitate. Then he shrugged and turned around. Our arms were secured once again. But when the guard ordered us to open our mouths, Alex tensed and said, "No."

His voice was very calm, very quiet and assured. As the guard stepped forward to force him into obedience, Alex exploded. He kicked out, catching the guard square in the abdomen. The guard yelped and fell back clutching his stomach and I fell back out of Alex's way. My brother began to pull earnestly at the chain connecting his collar to the bedpost. I watched in shock and amazement, certain that his neck would snap from the strain he was using, trying to break the post. "Alex, stop it!" I hollered at him. But he continued to pull against the chain, letting it slacken, then snapping it taut with incredible force. I tried to lunge toward him to stop him physically, but he moved away from me until I reached the end of my chain. I yelled at him over and over to stop, but he simply ignored me and continued to yank at the chain.

By that time the guard had recovered and was calling for backup. Four guards were there in moments, stalking over to Alex has he continued to methodically pull at the chain.

"Don't injure him if you can help it. Just get the gag in. He can't break the post or the chain, no matter how hard he tries." One of the guards said. Why they didn't have the control box for Alex's collar was a mystery to me.

They moved forward cautiously. Alex saw them approach. "You're not putting that fucking thing back into my mouth," he said, calm but deadly.

"Take it easy." One of the men said, soothingly. And I though *they've been trained how to treat a cornered slave*. But then they pounced. Alex snarled and kicked out. At this point I began to help him. I sent one of the guards plummeting toward the footboard of the bed by sticking a leg out as he ran forward. His head met wood and he dropped like a stone.

One of the attackers yelped at that instant. "He bit me! The fucker bit me!" Inwardly I smiled. Alex wasn't playing fair. And I admired him for it. But I was curious as to why he was fighting the gag. He'd been pretty obedient up until then. I thought I was the one who'd fight the restraints.

Arms and legs flailed near me. I got in a few solid kicks to a torso or two that crossed my path. But without any real leverage, the battle was over before it had really begun. Alex was pinned to the ground and the gag was shoved roughly between his lips. When I saw the blood around his lips, I was afraid the guards had knocked some teeth out.

After the gag had been put back in, four of the men stood up and backed away. One of them bent and grabbed the legs of the man who'd been knocked out and drug him back away from Alex. Alex glared at all of them, his eyes a little too wide and his expression wild.

"You're going to be punished for that when Lord Remy hears about this." Alex snorted through the gag. As if Remy could do anything more to my brother, I thought. But he could, I knew.

"Calm down, Alex," I said, suddenly aware that my own gag hadn't been replaced in the confusion. "This isn't going to help." He turned his fierce glare on me and I winced. But I kept on. Alex was furious and needed to get back his center before Remy returned. "It won't last," I echoed his own words. "And you can't win. Not now. Calm down." I kept up this chant, more for myself in a way. But eventually Alex relaxed and slumped back onto his heels, head bowed.

Once they realized Alex wasn't going to lash out at them anymore, the guard who'd restrained us in the beginning moved toward me. "Don't think we didn't notice you either, slave," he scowled. "Now open your mouth and take this gag, or so help me, I'll kick the shit out of you, Lord Remy's favorite or not!"

I almost laughed at that. *We're no favorites anymore* I wanted to say. Instead I opened my mouth and let him snap the ball gag in place. Now that we were subdued, the other guards left. I was inwardly satisfied watching them carry their unconscious comrade with them. Even hoped I caused a good deal of damage when I tripped him. Then I winced inwardly, not too happy with my gloating. The guard was just doing his job. There was a good deal of animosity between Alex, myself and the hired watchers. But there was no reason to wish them ill. It was Remy who needed to pay for all these indignities. Him and the lawmakers of this country, this world, who allowed slavery to continue in any form. Although I'm sure, given the chance, many of these guards wouldn't mind owning a slave of their own. We were just privileged to bear the brunt of their envy of the upper classes.

I looked at Alex while our guard was preoccupied in getting himself back in order. My brother wouldn't look at me, although I tried hard to distract him from his obviously pessimistic thoughts. He looked defeated, worn down. And it had me worried. I would have given anything for Xavier's telepathy at that moment. What was going through my brother's head? I'd never seen him fight anything that was required before. Why now? Why tonight? Perhaps the isolation and punishment were getting to him? Perhaps he was near that edge into madness? Remy might have pushed him too far this time. I just couldn't tell. All I knew was how wild his look had been. How defiantly he'd told the guard "no". I prayed he hadn't succumb now to a madness I was sure would take us, if we were kept much longer in this confinement.

The door opened a minute later and Remy strode in. A girl -- she couldn't have been more than 12 years old -- followed meekly behind. And servants followed after with a table and chairs for dining and platters of food. Remy seemed irritated. I'm certain the guards had informed him of our behavior, but he didn't spare us a glance. I think he was more irritated by his dinner companion. She was a mere child.

However, I watched him as the young girl stood by, obviously terrified, waiting for the servants to set up the table and leave. Remy seemed to physically steel himself against something, perhaps his coming dinner. Then, after all the servants had gone except the one who was to wait on them, he turned to the girl and offered his hand. "Chere," he said, "shall we eat, eh?"

The girl gave a nervous nod and took Remy's hand. He sat her down at the table and a change came over the two. Remy began to flirt with the girl outrageously, but in such an exaggerated way that no one could mistake it for serious seduction. He told her jokes and amusing anecdotes, all to ease her fear. And she began to relax in his company. She laughed at him, and he got her to talk about her day, what she had studied, where she had gone, what shops her 'nanny' had taken her to. His manner was very similar to one he'd used with Henry. He knew the girl was too young to be paraded in front of him as a wife. But women weren't treated much better here than slaves, and she might have borne the ire of her parents had Remy refused to spend some time with her, courting her.

I couldn't help but admire that he would endure this ritual, just to save the girl from being punished. But then he had shown some sense of decency at times. And I couldn't really say that what was happening between the two was truly honorable on Remy's part.

After they'd dined, Remy led the girl to a couch. A pitcher of juice was provided. Remy wouldn't allow the girl to drink wine, though I got the impression it was allowed in this country. The young girl, more relaxed by that point began her own innocent form of seduction. It was awkward to watch. A clumsy hand put on Remy's thigh, a soft giggle, an indecent caress. Remy more often than not gently removed her hands with a chaste kiss to her knuckles. And it wasn't long before he kissed her softly on the forehead and sent her away.

Once she was gone, Remy strode over to us and stood in front of my brother. *Here it comes,* I thought. We'd be punished further.

With a sense of surprise, I watched him bend down in front of Alex and remove the gag. "I understand you weren't very obedient to your guard today. Why would let him cuff you, but not put in de gag?" Again Remy surprised me. His look was of sincere concern. Not anger.

Alex looked up at him warily. I think he wasn't sure if he could speak.

But Remy prompted him, "You can tell me, mon cher. Why did you fight de guard?"

Alex said nothing for a long moment. He simply gazed into Remy's eyes as if searching for something. "I..." he finally began. Then stopped to clear his throat. "I wanted you to do it. Only you." I felt my heart lurch from the defeat, the sadness, the utter desolation in his tone.

"Me?" Remy asked quietly, contemplatively. "You fought de guards because you wanted me to put de gag back in your mouth?"

Alex hung his head. "Yes," he whispered. "Not those animals. Not the hired help. I just...I just want you."

I was shocked. He was bending to Remy completely. He wanted his slavery. And I was furious. And terrified. Is that what I would become? Alex was becoming lost to me. Something had happened between last night and this evening. Something I couldn't understand. I had to get out. I had to get Alex out. He was losing his soul to Remy Lebeau.

And Remy was radiant. He pulled Alex to him. "Mon couer, why didn't you say? Oh, mon cher, de guard is just obeying my orders. He is my emissary when I'm not here. You *must* obey him as if he were me. Understand?" I saw Alex nod on Remy's shoulder. Remy stroked his back and whispered to him. I don't think it was anything I couldn't hear, just soothing words, words of some false love. Eventually though, Remy's voice grew stern, and loud enough that I could hear what he was saying.

"You know, t'ough I love you, you must be punished for your disobedience." Alex nodded again. "But because your disobedience came from wanting my attention, I will deliver de punishment m'self." He pulled back from my brother. "Okay?" Alex looked at him for a moment and then gave a curt nod.

Then Remy looked at me for the first time. "And I will punish you in de playroom. I won't let your brot'er watch. I won't add insult to injury. D'ccord?"

Alex gave him a slight, yet soulful smile as Remy stood up. Not bothering to call for a guard, Remy unhooked the chain attached to my brother's collar and helped him to his feet. They left without a glance in my direction, and I felt this terrible need to cry. But I shoved the feeling down deep. Alex was lost to me.

The rest of the night I was left alone, cuffed and gagged, to wait for Alex's return. But by morning when he still hadn't come back I began to worry. Had Remy seriously injured him, after his loyalty, his complete undoing? Was he being further punished? Left for the night in the stocks as I had been? Or maybe -- and I tried hard to dismiss this jealous thought -- Remy had given him a reprieve for what he'd said, for how he'd acted. Maybe even now, he was tucked away in the slave quarters, being nursed back to health by his favorite slave. I didn't want to believe this, but the longer he was kept away, the more uncharitable I became. Another twist to the thorn in my side.

By midmorning I was released by one of the many guards who'd stood watch over us. When I asked where Alex was, as expected, I was told to shut up. Then I was fed, taken to the bathroom, then to the gym where I was ordered to work out, and then led back to the bedroom and chained to the bedpost once more. My usual day, but without the presence of Alex to alleviate some of the
loneliness. Standing outside myself I was amazed at the depth of my heartache, how much I missed Alex although I'd witnesed him truely break for the first time. Yet a small portion of me wished him dead rather than having some twisted love toward Remy. But there was little I could do. Still, I didn't allow myself to cry. Tears would come later, when I was free. I'd shed no more tears until I'd brought Alex safely back to the mansion.

That night the guards were taking no chances. As if in retaliation for my brother's actions, my collar was activated, and the gag and cuffs were secured once I'd hit the floor paralyzed. I tried to curse them before the rubber ball was shoved between my teeth, but only a pitiful mewling sound
came out. The two men laughed at the sound and left me on my side, the pain in my arms increasing with every minute I was unable to move.

Remy returned a short while later as I was attempting to get to my knees. He had another young woman with him. Another courtier's daughter to audition for the role of wife. At least this one looked older than eighteen. They ignored me as usual. But this didn't bother me because now I was ignoring them. By the time the woman left, I was leaning back gently against the bed frame
asleep.

I'm not certain if Remy said something to wake me, but when I opened my eyes, he was down on one knee in front of me. I scowled at him for a moment and then closed my eyes and bowed my head.

"Look at me, Scott," Remy ordered.

Funny how I'd come to react to his voice without thinking. My head shot up and I looked at him cautiously. But when he raised a hand to caress my cheek, I flinched away from his touch. He frowned, but not in anger. He seemed concerned.

"Your brot'er is safe, mon ami," he said. I glanced at him, more surprised that he called me 'friend', than at Alex's safety. I'd had no real reason to believe my brother had been in any serious danger, although the thought had been a burden most of the day. "I sent him to de infirmary to heal," Remy continued. "He'll be back tomorrow."

Oddly enough I found myself not caring. It seemed so anticlimactic. I shifted to drop my head again, but Remy reached a hand out to take hold of my chin.

"You don' care." It wasn't a question. I just stared at him, keeping my face neutral. But then he was moving forward, gripping my jaw line tightly to prevent me from turning away. His lips brushed lightly over my eyelids and strayed across one cheek to my ear. I shivered, trying to pull back.

"Why do you fight what you can' hope to win?" Remy whispered. "You do care, but you're pushing it away, trying to ignore de feelings and trying to ignore me. You don' want to believe what your baby brot'er now understands completely: you're mine. You may be angry by dis punishment and t'ink it's unfair. But dat means not'ing. Down deep below de anger, and perhaps de hate, you know you belong to me." He nipped an earlobe, running his tongue along the rim. I shut my eyes tightly trying to shut him out. Instead, the tears I had determined never to shed sprang up behind my eyelids.

Remy pulled me into his arms, his lips barely brushed the skin just behind my ear and I let out a muffled sob.

"Soon," he murmured, and let me go, wiping away a stray tear with his fingertips. "Soon," he said again. Then he stood up and climbed into bed. I couldn't fathom what he'd meant by 'soon' and so I let the tears flow until I dropped off into a restless sleep.

Alex returned the next day after I'd eaten and been taken to the gym. His eyes were hollow and haunted. But he didn't look at me for long. And when he rolled onto his side away from me, I could see the faint traces of the whip marks across his back and buttocks. They crisscrossed each other, so there was no telling how many he had received. They were ugly all the same, and I
longed to reach out and run a finger across all of them, hoping to heal the emotional scars they had left. My brother was lost to me. Damn Remy.

Part XXXVIII


The days passed into weeks without any let up in our punishment. During the day we were left unrestrained, but watched closely by a guard. At night we were cuffed and gagged. And the guards always kept the controls to our collars within easy reach. One hint of rebellion and it would be activated.

Remy came home almost every night. And almost every night he was escorting a noble woman. Most of the time they dined, enjoyed an after dinner drink, and then the woman of the evening left with a family member or servant who had come to escort her home. Remy would shower afterward, and then come to stand in front of my brother seeking release. Alex gave it willingly every time, so often with a sad smile at the end. He'd never look at me after he'd finished, just turn toward the bed, drop his forehead against the post and try to sleep. Sometimes, I saw a few tears drop down his cheek, but most of the time, he showed little emotion. And so often, I'd feel my own tears fall for what was lost to me.

Occasionally the woman of the evening was brazen enough to attempt to seduce Remy. And more often than not Remy would take her to bed. Alex and I would be forced to listen as he was pleasured by the woman, and has he pleasured the woman. It was grating more than anything. And for some reason actually being witness to the act didn't spur my jealousy as much as when he'd left us alone, and my imagination roamed, thinking of him with someone else. It could have been the gender. As long as it wasn't a man, I didn't feel quite as threatened. Or perhaps because I knew it was just sex for him. The women never returned for a second night. Remy knew well enough that those women were using sex to get what they wanted, namely to become his consort, to gain power of some fashion. It had nothing to do with love or even attraction.

And I think he liked the idea of having sex with a woman in front of Alex and me. There was an allure to it, another way of punishing us with what we couldn't have or couldn't do. Namely touching him, or holding each other. And that made those nights exquisitely painful for me. It forced me to realize what Remy had meant. Soon I would succumb. If the punishment didn't relent soon I'd be begging Remy, telling him I'd do anything if he'd just let me back into his bed.

All during that time, no woman came to dine twice. Not even the ones who had been demure and genteel, the ones who had left seduction behind and sought to appeal to Remy's intelligence. Noblewoman after noblewoman came and went trying to win the heart of the sitting Patriarch. But they all seemed to fail once their night was over. One audition per woman.

Until Vanessa de Troia, the dark-haired ice queen I recognized from Alex and my 'coming out' party. Four consecutive days she came to dine, and stayed with Remy the rest of the night. I despised her on sight. Not because she goaded Remy into ordering Alex and I to perform. That would have been a waste of good hatred. Especially when that night had ended so well in
reconciliation with my brother. But because she didn't ignore us like the rest of the women who'd come to win Remy's heart. She made every effort to slight us, to demean us in Remy's eyes. And we were helpless to fight back against her nasty words, bound and gagged in front of her. I felt like less of a man in her presence.

"Remy," Vanessa said, the first night she came to his room, "what lovely decor. I believe I'll have to look into having a few handsome slaves chained to the foot of *my* bed."

Remy laughed. "De trick, ma chere," he joked, "is getting de right slaves. Deir coloring should accentuate de fabric of your bed."

She tittered at his wit, then proceeded to ignore us for the time being. But her attention always seemed to come back to us, her jealousy so obvious. Her words cutting and deep. And while I might have pitied her for being so petty and insecure, I just couldn't bring myself to do anything but despise her.

However, I did have to wonder what she really had to be jealous of. There was little we could do to her as slaves. But perhaps our very presence frightened her? Perhaps it symbolized what we meant to Remy? Was it possible she was still angry because Remy had left her at the party to be with us? She seemed the type to hold a grudge and to exact revenge whenever and wherever she
could.

This all became too evident on the forth day. It was early morning and Remy had been called away for some minor crisis in the palace. He'd told Vanessa to stay. He wouldn't be long. She lay in Remy's bed for a while, but eventually, when it seemed Remy would be away for longer, boredom must have caused her to rise. She floated around the room, picking up the various
statuettes and knick knacks, turning them over and over as if assessing their value. But even this began to lose interest and she turned her attention on us, two more objects to be appraised.

Vanessa glided over to stand in front of me. I eyed her warily, knowing she'd try to provoke me, although there was little I could do, but wondering how. She used a fairly direct approach. Animosity radiated off her like a victim of a nuclear war.

"Lovely creatures," she purred. "You do make handsome decor. But then Remy always had good taste." She paused in thought. "If not always good sense. When we are married, however, I'm sure I'll be able to guide him in the right direction."

So she expected to marry him? I had thought as much. But had he asked her yet? Was it official, or was she presuming? I think I hated her more at that moment than I'd ever hated anyone, including Apocalypse. So when she ran one perfectly manicured finger down my cheek, I snapped my head away, one lip curled up in distaste around the ball gag. She scowled viciously and slapped me hard across the face.

"Remy's too lenient with you. When we are married," she hissed, "I'll have you sold. He may be enamored of you now, but I'm certain I can convince him what a liability you both are. I'm sure Councilor Escalada would pay a handsome price for you. He's mentioned several times to me how he'd love to have you both in his stable. Perhaps I'll arrange it. Remy's sure to see my reasoning."

She stood back crossing her arms. Her lips rose in a half sneer, half smile. "Or perhaps," she mused, "I *will* keep you. Yes. I'll have Remy give you both to me as a wedding gift. Then I'll keep you in *my* stable." Her eyes lit up with malicious amusement. "I'll harness you both to my gurney and gentle you to my riding whip. Would you like that? You'll live in the stables like the rest of the stallions." Now her lips curled into an unmistakably cruel smile. "Perhaps I'll have you gelded. It will help in the long run to tame you."

I narrowed my eyes in fury. I wouldn't put it passed the bitch to try. And after these last few weeks, I wouldn't put it passed Remy to agree.

"Yes." Vanessa drew the S out with a perverse satisfaction. "I'll drive you around the city. I'll be the talk of Genosha. The woman who tamed Remy's favorite pets." Her smiled broadened and a faraway look appeared in her eyes. "The woman who tamed Remy Lebeau."

Suddenly Vanessa shifted in front of me and I saw Remy standing in the doorway. She hadn't heard him come in. Neither had I for that matter, so caught up in her cruel words.

"So," he said, his voice low, but the dangerous tone couldn't be mistaken, "you'll tame me like a slave, eh?" Vanessa had crossed the line and I would have laughed with glee if not for the gag in my mouth. "Like a stallion slave, no less."

Vanessa whirled around, completely off her guard, and her perfect icy demeanor faltered. But with grudging admiration I watched her recover quickly.

"Remy," she began placatingly.

"Get out," Remy calmly interrupted, refusing to listen.

"But, Remy, darling..."

"Get out, or I'll have de guard escort you out."

Sensing she was loosing ground fast, Vanessa switched tactics, pulling herself up and exuding an air of indignant anger. "You wouldn't dare. My father would..."

"Your father, chere, wouldn't do a thing. Not once he was made aware of your excursion to Earth with Escalada last summer."

Vanessa's eyes widened in shock. "How could you possibly..."

Remy chuckled, but with little mirth in his tone. "You're not de only one wit' spies, petite."

Vanessa dropped her hands to her sides, but I could see the minute tremors in her fingers. She shrugged slowly, casually and slithered over to Remy. Another tactic in mind. Seduction.

"Remy," she began in a low husky voice, "it was nothing. Just a little scouting trip." Remy's lips twitched in dark amusement, but he said nothing as she draped herself around him, pressing her cold lips against his cheek. "He's a brute. Cold and callous."

"Den you two should be perfect toget'er," he said maliciously.

I had to give Vanessa credit. The comment didn't raise her ire. She continued speaking as if she hadn't heard him, running her hand up one arm and shoulder and down again. "You're so much more of a man, Remy. Warm, friendly, handsome, but so powerful. We'd be so good together." She gestured back toward us. "I was only joking. I would never do anything to harm your favorites." Her hand came back to run seductively down his chest. "And I'd never believe that I could influence you. Don't send me away."

Remy looked at her for a long moment as if assessing the truth of her words "So you wish to marry me, chere?"

My eyes widened at this. Was he really going to ask her to marry him? Vanessa's face lit up. "With all my heart," she whispered, breathless with anticipation.

Remy smiled at her, the first sign of warmth I'd seen in him since he'd returned. He ran a finger gently down her cheek. "You should know, petite," he said, "I don' marry whores."

It took a moment for his words to sink in. Then Vanessa stepped back away from him, her face twisted in fury. I saw her hand twitch slightly before she brought it up, intending to slap him. But he caught her wrist and forced it back painfully.

"You bastard!" She screamed. "After all I've done for you! All I've given you!"

Remy chuckled. "Oui. But as my Tante Mattie use to say 'why buy de cow, when you can get de milk for free.' And incidentally," he added, "I was never going to marry you." He winked at her and in a rage she wrenched her arm free.

"You'll pay for this," she hissed. "Somehow, someway, I'll make you pay."

Remy looked over her shoulder then, catching my eye. "Better men den you 'ave tried, chere. Do your worst." He looked back at her. "But never underestimate me. I have ears all over dis kingdom. I know your secrets. Do you really t'ink you know any of mine?"

Vanessa glared at him and said, "I know your weaknesses."

I thought Remy was going to strike her then. His face mirrored the fury in her own expression. But she suddenly gathered herself together and swept passed him out of the room.

Remy waited for the door to slam. He closed his eyes for a moment and a transformation took place on his face. Then he burst into heartfelt laughter. "Oh," he said to himself, "Remy Lebeau, you've made a very lethal enemy today. But dis was coming. I knew she'd never agree to simply be my mistress. But wife? Ha! I have better taste."

He turned to us at that point and walked over to me. With his fingers barely touching the reddened area Vanessa had left, he asked, "Dis all she did, cher?"

I nodded.

"Bein." He smiled. "But I never would 'ave let her harm you. Alt'ough de thought of seeing you two harnessed to a buggy is tempting." I pulled back in anger, but my cock jumped in arousal at his words. God! The images he conjured up were depraved, vile, but also incredibly erotic. Harnessed like a horse to a cart and forced to pull him along as he encouraged more speed out of me with the sting of his whip across my bare ass. Would he control my movements with a bit in my mouth? Would he add a tail for some sick aesthetic purpose?

Remy leered at me as if he could see the images swirling around in my brain. Then he ruffled my hair affectionately. "Non," he said. "Dat would only add full to de fire. And besides, it'd probably cause serious injury to all de people trying to get a look." He grinned and a moment later he was gone. A guard step in just after he'd left and released us from our bonds to begin our day.

Part XXXIX

Several days went by before Remy brought another woman home to dine. And then Lady Krysti Boutin joined him. She was unlike any of the other women Remy had entertained. There was no pretense about her. She was earnest and sincere and most of all, kind. She wasn't striking like so many of the others. A little plain perhaps, except for her long auburn tresses and her intense green eyes. Yet she radiated a beauty far beyond her peers with her graciousness and her warmth. I would have compared her to Grace Kelly or Audrey Hepburn. Classy, feminine, but still a strength of character. She was no pushover. But she did not demand. She simply made converts of those who didn't at first see eye to eye with her.

And that, in a sense, was my first impression of Lady Boutin. She made a convert of Remy Lebeau. The moment she entered the room on Remy's arm she looked at us with a bit of shock, and then compassion. Gently withdrawing her hand from Remy, she came over to us and knelt down in front of me.

"Oh dear," she said sadly, "have you disobeyed Lord Lebeau?"

I looked over her shoulder at Remy, who was approaching with a bemused expression on his face. There was nothing in his look to guide me in this situation, so when I looked back at her, my expression was blank. She turned her head gracefully to look up at Remy.

"Must they be restrained so? I don't think I could enjoy dinner, knowing they're in pain." She gave a beatific smile and I swear Remy brightened like the sun. "I'm sure you have your reasons for punishing them, but surely there is forgiveness in your heart, even for slaves."

Remy seemed mesmerized by her words, by the sound of her voice. He seemed to have to literally shake himself back into focus. Was she an empath like him, I wondered? Did she have the ability to charm? But I felt none of the intense warmth and pleasure I received when Remy used *his* power. Perhaps he must have picked up on her sincerity, her innate kindness, and it was like a drug for him, a peace of some kind he'd never feel on his own.

"Of course, chere," he said. "For you I will end their punishment."

She put a delicate hand to her throat. "Not for me, Milord. For their dignity, and to earn their loyalty. Punishment should be swift. To draw it out, only puts resentment in their hearts. They are men after all. And you favor them."

Remy looked down at us thoughtfully. Then he straightened, coming to a decision. "Oui," he said, and knelt down next to Lady Boutin. He quickly unsnapped Alex's gag and reaching around him, undid his cuffs. Then I watched with curious relief as he unlocked the chain from my brother's collar. Alex remained silent, only cracking his jaw to relieve the tension and rubbing his
wrists.

Remy reached over to me, then and undid my restraints. He stood up afterward, and offered his hand to Lady Boutin. She took it graciously and rose up next to him, as he looked down at us.

"G'on. Go clean yourselves up. You can sleep in de bed, after you're finished," he said kindly.

I climbed to my feet, shaky and stiff, and looked at Lady Boutin. "Thank you," I rasped. Then I looked at Remy. "Thank you, Master." What else could I say? He caressed my cheek.

"You're forgiven, mon cher." He smiled. "Would you like your guitar repaired?"

I stared at him stupidly until he said with a chuckle, "I'll take dat as a yes."

Alex had gotten to his feet by this time and he also thanked Remy, stretching out a hand as if wanting to touch him, but not sure he'd be allowed. Remy took his hand and put it to his lips. Then he pulled him into his arms whispering words that had my brother sobbing in minutes. Remy held him until he quieted. When he released him, Remy wiped away what tears were left on his face and said, "G'on, cher."

He gestured to the bathroom, and Alex moved unsteadily toward it, working out his stiffness as he walked. I stood there, watching my brother, still in somewhat of a daze, unable perhaps to believe Remy was freeing us from our torment. Suddenly Remy slapped me on my hip. "Well? You gonna stand dere all night?"

I gaped at him before finally stumbling after my brother. Alex was already in the shower. I wasn't sure what to say to him. I wasn't sure if I should say anything, or if I was even allowed to speak to him. He kept his back to me, and I wasn't even sure if he knew I was there. So I said, "Alex?"

"Don't start," he said quietly, not turning around.

I stared at the area between his shoulder blades for several minutes before finally having the courage to ask simply, "Why?"

"Why what?" Alex turned to face me. "Why did I fight the guards? Why did I want just Remy to put the gag back in? Why have I not looked at you or tried to speak to you? You know, Scott, somethings aren't always about you. And somethings are just inevitable."

My brother was a mystery to me at that moment. There was so much more I wanted to ask. I started with the most pressing and most obvious. "Do you
love him?"

His face grew dark, his eyes drifted into pools of desolation. He turned to the side, clenching his fists and letting the spray of the shower run along his shoulders. "I...yes...maybe...I don't know."

"I'm getting us out," I told him with a fierce determination that belied my fear. "I'm getting out of here as soon as I can, and then I'm coming back for you."

He didn't even hesitate when he turned back around to face me. "And what if I don't want to go back?"

There was nothing left to say. I exploded into action, shoving him back through the spray and up against the tiled wall, barely missing knocking him into the shower knobs. And I kissed him, hard, driving a knee between his legs. At first he wouldn't respond. He kept his lips tightly pressed together and let his hands drop to his sides. But when I rolled a nipple between my fingers, drawing it into hardness, and then twisting. He gasped, and I drove my tongue into his mouth. I could fight unfairly just as well as he could. And I knew he wouldn't bite me. At least not too hard.

All the days of isolation. All the weeks we weren't allowed to speak or touch came crashing down on him, and Alex woke to my desperate passion. He took hold of my tongue between his lips and nursed at it roughly, like a newborn. A strange half gurgle, half whimper rose out of his throat. His arms came around my waist and he crushed me to him. When he broke the kiss he was whispering, "Don't do this to me. Don't make me choose. I'll choose badly."

"Shhh..." I murmured back, nipping at his earlobe. "You won't have to choose when I come to rescue you."

He shook his head with a broken sob. "I just can't believe that you'll escape. I just can't have that kind of hope." He dropped his head back against the wall, shutting his eyes. "After everything that's happened, I just can't hope anymore."

I pulled his head down with both my hands on his face and kissed him again gently. "I've got hope enough for both of us, brother," I said. "And I am *not* losing you to Remy's screwed up notion of love."

Alex couldn't or wouldn't say anything to that, so I just gazed at him for a long time as he kept his eyes forlornly on the floor. Finally, I pulled him back under the shower and tenderly, reverently, began to wash him.

When we walked back into Remy's bedroom, he and Lady Boutin were seated at dinner, laughing at something that had just been said. I'd never seen Remy so relaxed. It seemed as if he'd completely let his guard down with his dinner companion. And she was simply serene. Her laugh reminded me of Jean when we'd first met. Innocent, unshaken by the worries we'd come to face day in and day out. Jean had lost some of that. I don't think I'd ever had it to begin with. I smiled faintly at the laughter and my memories and moved toward the bed. But Remy stopped me.

"Scott. Alex. Come here," he said, waving his hand at us. "I'd like you to meet de woman who has stolen m'heart."

Lady Boutin blushed and said, "We've only just met, Lord Lebeau. Surely you can't mean that?"

Remy laughed. "I mean every word, ma chere. Every word."

I'd come to stand on Remy's right, and a wash of jealousy went through me, but I shoved it back as quickly as I could. And when he wrapped his arm around my waist, his fingers caressing my hip, I shivered, the sense of jealous anger leaving me as I now tried to concentrate on willing myself not to become aroused. Somehow it would have seemed vulgar in front of this lady. She meant no harm to me, and in fact had been my rescuer. Thankfully, my cock only twitched a little with interest.

Alex moved around to stand on Remy's other side. I looked over at him, but he kept his eyes forward, his face passive, even when Remy began to cup and fondle one of his buttocks. His gaze remained just above Lady Boutin's head, fixed on a point somewhere on the wall behind her.

"Lady Boutin, dese are my most favored slaves." He nodded to me. "Dis is Scott." Then he nodded to my brother. "And dis is Alex. Say hello to Lady Krysti Patrice Boutin. First born of de Patriarch of de British Isles."

I bowed, not exactly certain how to greet her. Alex did the same. "Hello," we both said in unison. Lady Boutin laughed delicately.

"Hello, favored ones."

"You see, chere," Remy said, his face beaming with pride, "polite *and* beautiful."

"Yes they are." She smiled brightly in agreement. "I imagine if they were mine, I would also be tempted to chain them to my bed."

The way in which she said this was light and friendly, almost in jest. There was no malice and no sense of exploitation. It was only a comment on how she perceived us. Handsome men. And I couldn't help but laugh and say, "Somehow, Lady, I can't see how I would mind being chained to your bed."

She burst into laughter and Remy swatted me playfully on my ass, surprisingly unperturbed. "I t'ink I'd best hide dem from you, or dey'll be begging you to steal dem away. And I'm afraid I'd let you get away wit' it."

"I wouldn't," Alex spoke up quietly.

Remy looked up at him. "Wouldn't what, cher?"

"Ask her to steal me from you."

I tensed, worried that Remy might think Alex was offending his guest. But he squeezed his hip and asked, "Why not, cher? Don' you like Krysti?"

For the first time since we'd come over to Remy, Alex's face showed emotion. One corner of his mouth twitched up in a lopsided smile and he said, "No, Master. She is beautiful and kind. But I know who I belong to."

Remy barked out a laugh. "And so you do!" He said, pulling Alex down to kiss him quickly. I looked over at Lady Boutin, curious to see her reaction. She seemed amused and...tender was the only word I could think of, as if she were watching a grand romance. And despite the anger I'd felt toward Alex's breaking, seeing my brother and my master through her eyes, eyes that had always witnessed slavery, I couldn't help but agree that their kiss was romantic. The beauty of submission. Lady Boutin smiled warmly at me when she noticed me watching her. I nodded as if we'd both come to some agreement.

Then Remy was patting my ass and telling my brother and I to go to bed. "De Lady Boutin and I would like to finish our meal without such beautiful distractions. Keep quiet, you two."

He said this with good-natured humor, and I relaxed visibly. Alex and I would be allowed to speak to each other as long as we kept our voices low.

When I climbed into bed beside Alex, I pulled him into my arms. He resisted at first, every muscle in his back, neck and arms tense. But then with a sad sigh he relaxed against me and I hugged him tight. "I love you, Alex," I murmured.

He was silent for a long time and I'd thought after a while that he'd fallen asleep. But then I heard him say softly, his voice choked with emotion, "Don't make me choose. Please, don't make me choose."

I only kissed him gently on the back of his neck, nuzzling just behind his ear. "Go to sleep," I finally said. "I just wanted you to know that I love you."

He nodded, but said nothing else. I lay there snuggled next to my brother, unable to get close enough to him, listening to his easy breathing, reveling in the faint musky scent of him, tasting his flesh at times, adoring the moments when he shivered, wanting nothing more. Even if he was afraid to choose. Even if he was broken by the long weeks of punishment. Even if he believed he loved Remy more than me. I could touch him, I could taste him and smell him, and right now, it was almost enough. Only being able to crawl into him, to become a part of him and bring him back from under Remy's influence would have made it enough.

I listened to the sound of his breathing and the quiet conversation between Remy and Lady Boutin, until the weariness of the long weeks of punishment dragged me into sleep. And just as I drifted over that edge into dreams, I heard a whispered, "I love you too, Scott."

A movement on the bed woke me in the night. Remy was climbing in behind me. One of his hands ran lightly down my side until he reached my hip. Then he thrust his other hand underneath my side and gently pulled me onto my back. I looked at him in the dimly lit room, his eyes glowing, but he was looking down at my body as if studying it, memorizing each line, every curve. Finally, he looked up into my eyes. There was lust in his gaze, but also a joy I don't think I'd ever seen. Carefully, as if afraid I'd pull away or perhaps strike out at him because of what he'd put us through, be brought his fingers to my brow and began to touch me like a blind man.

I narrowed my eyes, unable to understand what he wanted. He saw my confusion and smiled, but said nothing. His fingers drifted down across my eyes, persuading them to close. I relaxed back onto the mattress, letting him touch me as he pleased, somehow happier than I'd ever been from his touch. He stroked my face, running a hand across my nose, then his thumb across my bottom lip. I opened my mouth without thinking, but he ignored it and let his fingers slide lower. Around my neck, softly stroking. Sometimes only one finger playing in the hollow of my throat. I could feel his breath so close to my skin and I began to shudder with want. But as I reached up to touch
him, his hands, fast as light, pushed my arms back down on the bed and held them there firmly until I understood I was not to put my hands on him.

I groaned in frustration, but he made no sound, either to comfort me or to provoke me. Yet without opening my eyes, I knew he was smiling, a tender smile that asked me to trust him. And oddly, perversely, I did. Shortly after, his fingers began to explore my body again.

As they glided over my chest, circling my nipples without touching, I grew erect. Then one of his hands came away from my body and I felt a chill go through me. I started to shake, but not from the cold. My mouth worked, opening and closing, but unable to speak a word. I could only gasp and moan. And then I felt Alex stir beside me and four sets of fingertips were caressing my flesh.

I let out a gasped "ah", and began to tremble so hard from want that I was afraid I'd shake apart. Every nerve was tingling from the gentleness of their touch. My cock began to weep in anticipation, moving with the tremors that wracked my body, as if alive. If only they'd kiss me. I wanted to beg them for it, but my lips wouldn't work, words wouldn't come.

Four hands drifted lower, nails raking my stomach. One finger circled and circled my navel until it finally began to plunge in and out of the indentation, sending quivers through my belly. Then more raking through my pubic hair, running around my cock, but never close enough to brush. I thrust in upward in need, but two of those tormenting hands pushed my hips back down on the mattress and held me again until I wouldn't move. I tightened into stillness, sure I would die from want, unable to stop the tremors, but wanting those hands to continue touching so badly, I wouldn't have minded my death.

A minute later their fingers began again, moving gently between my legs, stroking my inner thighs. Down they went, over my knees and calves, sweeping around my ankles, two hands gripping them firmly and pushing my legs up to bend at the knees. Three sets of fingertips ran up along the backs of my thighs, as I felt someone shift between my legs. And then a finger, slick with spit, ran along the crevice of my ass. Without warning, it was thrust into me and I bucked. But that wasn't my undoing, though it I was close. I came when lips pressed down against mine demanding entrance and another mouth closed around the head of my weeping cock. I exploded with painful force, arching up as far as I could into that warm luscious mouth.

When I was just liquid flesh on the bed, I managed to open my eyes a hair to see Remy above me staring down with his glowing red eyes. Alex was below, nursing my cock of every drop. I lay there boneless, moving just enough to bring Remy's lips back down on mine. But eventually he broke away and pulled Alex up to kiss him hard above me.

With his magnificent grace and agility, Remy pushed Alex back and slid across me. In one flowing motion, he thrust into my brother and began to fuck him furiously. I'd recovered enough by then to sit up. So many weeks of tactile isolation drove me up onto my knees to stroke Remy's back as I crawled around to my brother's head. His legs were thrown above Remy's shoulders and he was grunting with the fury of Remy's thrusts. As I placed my hands against his temples and bent to kiss him, he hollered into my mouth and climaxed with a force to match Remy's pace. Remy arched his back immediately as if Alex were pulling his orgasm from him, and he began to drench my brother thoroughly. I felt all of it. Like a backlashing current, I felt Remy cum, and I sucked away Alex's breath with my kiss. My God! The pleasure bordered on pain, sensory overload as I experienced not just Remy's orgasm, but the afterglow of my brother's.

It was almost too much and I wrenched my mouth and hands from Alex. He sucked in a breath that sounded like a sob and let his legs drop off Remy's shoulders. Remy collapsed on him with a muffled groan.

I should have felt that warmth, that tingling sensation of bliss that signaled afterglow. I should have been basking in the minute twitches of my muscles sending afterwaves of pleasure shooting to my brain. Instead, I scrambled back against the head of the bed in fear. I was choked with panic. Dropping my head against the headboard, I took in slow deep breaths trying to calm the terror. It had a focus. There was a reason. And I knew then I now had a limited amount of time to escape before Remy Lebeau had me body and soul.

When I opened my eyes, Remy was watching me, his eyes still glowing in the darkness. He knew. I felt sure he knew. It was only a matter of time before I broke just like Alex had and told Remy I belonged to him.

Part XL

I began to watch for any opportunity to escape. I knew it would have to be at night. The guards would be less alert and there would be fewer on duty. If only Remy stayed away for one night, I could wait for Alex to fall asleep, steal some of Remy's clothes and make my way to the portal room.

I'd arrived in the portal room and from there had been taken to the 'playroom'. It was merely a matter of focusing my memory on the direction of the portal room from the 'playroom'. I was sure I'd figure it out once I was in those hallways and had signs to jog my memory. I was going through that portal, even if it killed me. I knew with a chill in my heart that I couldn't give Remy what he wanted. No matter how enticing it felt to just give in. Any chance I got I'd use to my advantage to escape. And I was well aware that I only had one chance.

After that first night of release, Alex and I returned to our normal routines. My guitar was even returned to me fully repaired. And my lessons were resumed. Yet despite the return to normal, a distance had come between Alex and me. As if in silent agreement, we kept our conversations to a minimum and kept them light and casual. No discussions of feelings were raised. No mention of our status and the future. And certainly no talk of escape. While I mourned this distance, I let it pass, knowing that once I'd escaped I'd get my brother back. There were signs, however subtle, that he hadn't broken completely. At least I believed that. I had to believe it.

During that first week of freedom, Lady Boutin dined with Remy every night. Twice Alex and I were instructed to kneel at the table next to Remy. On those occasions Remy fed us morsels from his plate, while Lady Boutin watched with that same expression of amused tenderness. The rest of the time we waited quietly in Remy's bed until someone came to escort the lady back to her rooms. And every night Remy made love to Alex and me with a passion that, had I not tempered it with fear, would have cost me my heart to him. The fear delayed my breaking. But it was only a matter of time. I was postponing the inevitable. And there was a sense of pressure building inside me. I couldn't rid myself of the feeling that something was going to happen. Perhaps a chance for escape? I didn't know.

On the sixth night after our release, Remy informed us that he'd be away for the evening. He was taking Lady Boutin out for the evening. "And," he told us with a sly smile, "dere's somet'ing important I need to ask her."

I nodded calmly, but inside I leapt at the opportunity his dining out gave me. *He might be gone all night*, I thought, failing to notice Alex deflate, his face become passive, only his eyes expressing his tortured heart. Remy was getting married. And to someone he cared for.

I saw Alex's expression as soon as Remy had left, and knew with some anger that Alex wouldn't be sleeping that night. Like a love sick fool he'd be waiting up for Remy.

What did he expect, I wondered? For Remy to marry *him*? It was ludicrous, but I knew Alex wasn't thinking rationally. He was thinking of love, with flowers, and hearts and romance and commitment. He wasn't thinking of himself as a slave, but as Remy's lover. And that was dangerous. It could lead to madness or punishment. And I couldn't trust him not to betray me if I simply left. So I waited with him until Remy returned.

Remy was floating on air, affectionate, happier than I'd seen him in some time. A truly sincere happiness and for a moment I thought that perhaps I could persuade him to set Alex and me free and send us home. But then he said, "She is beautiful, and she is *mine*."

Lady Boutin, for all her grace and poise and kindness, was still merely a possession for him.

"We will marry next month," Remy announced. "De council's approved. But how could dey not?"

He turned to gaze at us. "Come, mon chers, I feel like celebrating. I won't know de bliss of her body until de wedding night. But I can enjoy my favorite slaves, non?" His tone was light and joking, but his words cut me to the core. He didn't love us. Not true love anyway. While I'd certainly been aware of that fact, his words forced that knowledge into my consciousness.

And Alex, poor besotted Alex. He turned into an automaton, going through the motions of love, but with the play acting of the whore he now believed he was. Damn Remy.

Alex seemed to deteriorate after that. At least in my presence. He slept most of the day. Only getting up to workout or eat. I think he forced himself to do these things because he didn't want Remy to be aware that he was anything other than a good, obedient slave.

Remy was home every night for the next two weeks. And we saw nothing of Lady Boutin. From what I could garner, she had returned to her country to make the final arrangements for her move to Genosha and her new life as consort to Remy Lebeau.

A week later, Tanya and Meredith were brought to Remy's bedroom to prepare us for an engagement party. Alex and I were stunned. We hadn't been shown in public for months, and I couldn't see what Remy's motives were for showing us now. There was nothing for us to do, but to accede to his wishes. The same golden chains were wrapped around our waists. The same red stone was secured in my navel and the blue stone secured in Alex. The same gold cuffs signifying who owned us were placed around our wrists. And as before we were both lightly oiled to highlight the cuts of our muscles and enhance our beauty. Finally, golden leashes were once again attached to our inhibitor collars and we were left to wait for our Master.

But Remy never came. Instead, a guard was sent to fetch us. We were led gently to the ballroom, our escort obviously given instructions to handle us with care. But rather than entering through the large double doors, we were taken in through a side door. The party was in full swing. Couples were dancing on the ballroom floor to the classical waltz being played. Laughter came from the groups of people all chattering and gossiping around the dance floor. No one paid us much attention as we came in, and I felt a wash of relief. Perhaps Remy wouldn't expect us to perform?

Alex and I stood inside the doorway with the guard as he scanned the room for some signal. Then we were moving across the room to where Remy stood with Lady Boutin. I caught my breath at the sight of him, cursing my own admiration. But he looked spectacular. He wore a floor length maroon coat that buttoned from just below his groin upward. The collar stood up square around his neck. A black collarless silk shirt peeked out from beneath the coat, and he wore the same type of black leggings he seemed to always wear with the knee high leather black boots. He had left his hair down, and the russet locks flowed across his shoulders, catching the light as he moved. A gold circlet adorned his brow. And the sigil of his office hung from around his neck. He looked like a figure from some gothic romance novel.

Lady Boutin was equally elegant in lavender and white. Simply dressed, the gown she wore had an empire waist, form fitting as it tapered down below her breasts, one wide strip of lavender, surrounded by intricately woven white lace. The cuffs of her gown brought the neckline down over her shoulders, accentuating her slender arms and long graceful neck. Delicate hands were covered in white silk gloves. She wore her beautiful auburn tresses up, but relaxed around her face. And her brilliant green eyes sparkled with love has she looked at Remy.

I felt a wave of pity go through me, because I knew she was just another piece of property to him. Another conquest. Another slave. Yet when I turned my eyes in his direction, a rush of desire went through me and I realized how easily it was to fall under his spell. He gave Alex and me a dazzling smile as he saw us being led over to him, and I felt the urge to drop to my knees before him and declare my love.

I fought this compulsion with a slight shake of my head. And suddenly we were standing just behind Remy and Lady Boutin. She turned and gave us a light-hearted smile, full of affection. Remy turned also, and took our leashes from the guard, holding them loosely in one hand. Then he turned his attention back to the nobles he had been talking to. I think we were meant to be part of his adornment.

Alex and I stood there for what seemed like hours, doing nothing, saying nothing. It was dull to say the least. I tried to listent to what the nobles were saying to Remy, but their words were mostly empty flattery, sickening in its garishness, in the one-upmanship the courtiers played. At one point Lady Boutin was dragged away by a group of noblewomen who wish to 'get to know her better' without Remy's influence. Several winked and nodded to Remy as if it were some grand joke, laughing as they led her across the room toward other waiting noblewomen.

Eventually the others surrounding Remy drifted away, and for several moments we stood there alone with Remy. He seemed relaxed, not at all uncomfortable with the sudden lack of company. I watched him scan the room for his fiance and finding her, he smiled with such tenderness, I could almost believe that he loved her. Then he turned to face us for a moment.

"Enjoying yourselves?" He asked pleasantly.

Alex and I both nodded.

Remy laughed. "No you're not. You're bored out of your mind. I'll send you along in a bit." He looked back at the crowd, and spotting a servant with a tray of sparkling white wine, no doubt the equivalent of champagne on this world, he gestured for him to come over. Taking two glasses, he handed them to Alex and me. He took another and held it up, dismissing the servant. I looked at him a little incredulous, but he smiled broadly. "A toast," he said, "to de Lady Boutin, m'lovely bride to be."

I looked at Alex for just a second and then clinked my glass with Remy's. Alex held back, the pause noticeably uncomfortable has he looked at Remy. Jesus! His eyes were misting. But then he straightened and said, "to the Lady Boutin, who's won your heart." He touched his glass with Remy and downed the drink in one gulp.

Remy's face clouded as his smile disappeared. "Would you like anot'er, Alex?" He asked as if he were reprimanding an unruly child. "Perhaps two or t'ree more would ease your jealousy, hein?"

Alex's shoulders slumped and he bowed his head. "Forgive me, Master."

Remy stepped up close to him and lifted his chin, kissing him lightly on the lips. "Dere will be time for you, mon couer. Don' t'ink my marriage will cause me to forget you. But do not forget your place. D'ccord?"

Alex nodded slowly, closing his eyes.

"I will call de guard to escort you back to de room now." Remy ran his knuckles tenderly against Alex's cheek, his voice kind and concerned. "You seem tired."

"Milord Remy. I see I've caught you alone for the moment." Councilor Frederico Escalada approached with a beautiful dark haired woman, naked except for an inhibitor collar, trailing behind him. A mutant slave. She had olive skin and large dark eyes with long black lashes. She kept her eyes on the floor until Escalada came to stand in front of Remy. Then she looked up at me with a shy smile. I smiled back, enchanted.

Remy stepped away from Alex and turned to face Escalada with a polite smile. "Yes. I was just toasting my beautiful bride wit' my pets."

Escalada gave him a smug smile. "I can certainly see why you indulge them. They're magnificent."

Remy nodded but said nothing.

A sudden wave of anxiety went through me. Something was going on between these two men, that I couldn't see.

Escalada continued to smile, his thin mustache twitching a bit as he turned and pulled the slave in front of him. His grip was tight, his whole manner condescending and cruel. The girl was just a slave after all, his gesture indicated. She winced at his grip for a second.

"I wanted to show you my newest acquisition, Arienne. A mutant found in Croatia. She's quick-witted and beautiful. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Of course," Remy replied casually. "You have excellent taste. What is her power?"

"Healing factor. Not on the level of an alpha. She heals about fifty percent faster than a normal human."

Remy nodded again and stepped closer to examine the girl. Obediently she let him touch her cheek, open her mouth, examine her even white teeth. He stoked down her arms, cupped a breast, playing with the nipple for a moment, smiling as it hardened. Very submissive. Well-trained.

"Very responsive. How old?" Remy asked.

"Eighteen. I acquired her about three months ago. She fought like a lioness during the first week. But I broke her to the whip soon after."

I scowled. Escalada was worse than I had ever thought. Evil as far as I was concerned.

Remy looked thoughtful for a moment and then turned the girl around. Her back was unmarred. He ran his hand down her back until he cupped a smooth buttock.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Escalada said with pride. "I only had to remove the inhibitor collar and the lash marks vanished within a day. Not even a scar. And -- I hate to be vulgar -- but her vagina never loses it's elasticity once her healing factor begins to work." He smiled slyly then. "It's like making love to a virgin every time. I believe she's one of my best retrievals yet."

"You plan to breed her no doubt," Remy said with just a hint of boredom.

"Well," Escalada pursed his lips, "I brought her here to tonight to tempt you."

"I only sleep wit' slaves in my quarters," Remy replied, turning the girl back around. "You know dat. Alt'ough she is tempting."

"Actually, I meant to entice you into breeding your favorites. Can you imagine the power their offspring might wield? Not to mention the potential beauty."

I sucked in a breath, rage beginning to boil inside me. I felt Alex tense next to me.

"Hmmm..." Remy said thoughtfully. This seemed to pique his interest and I sucked in more air, holding it in a rising panic.

"I'm sure your pets would enjoy mounting her. She is *very* passionate," Escalada continued, his eyes lighting up has he watched Remy consider the offer. "And I'd be happy to allow them the luxury of breeding like humans, rather than my normal methods. It would be pleasant, I promise."

"And if dey can't or won't perform?" Remy asked. "I won't have dem harmed."

"No, of course not," Escalada responded in an oily placating tone. "There is always artificial insemination. Although it's certainly not my preferred method." Suddenly he spoke in earnest, "You must breed them, Milord. You cannot waste beauty and power such as theirs. Give me a chance. You will be welcomed to their first born."

I clenched my hands into fists, clamped my teeth down tightly to keep from saying anything has I watched Remy's face. He couldn't consider it. He knew my fury at the very idea. He knew I'd rather die than be bred by Escalada. And I was sure Alex felt the same way. The idea of escape never seemed more urgent.

Remy looked at the girl for a long time saying nothing. Escalada stood by seemingly calm, but I could see him holding his breath at times, and a slight tremor ran through his right cheek every so often. Finally, Remy stepped back nodding slowly.

"I 'ave been wondering what I will do wit' dem while I am on my honeymoon. Dey'll need watching I suspect." He looked at Escalada. "I had t'ought to send dem to a trainer. Deir are several t'ings dey need work on. But you 'ave a trainer, non?"

Escalada clapped his hands together with glee. "Yes, Milord. I have an excellent trainer. I'd be happy to have him take them on, for the privilege of breeding them."

Remy smiled. "Come see me tomorrow. We'll work out de details."

Escalada clapped a hand on Remy's shoulder. "You won't regret it, Milord."

My mind was in a whirl. I knew I was glaring at Remy, but I didn't care. He'd have to kill me before I'd give in to his demand to breed me.

Escalada and Remy began to discuss his upcoming marriage. He glanced back at us once, a devious smile on his face. And Escalada's eyes set on us several times as they talked, a lecherous look of pleasure on his face every time. At one point, when another courtier approached Remy, he pulled Arienne close and whispered something to her. She smiled demurely and walked over to us, swaying her hips seductively. Beginning to purr in her native tongue she came to stand in front of me, reaching up to caress my cheek. I stepped back shaking my head, but she continued moving toward me, her hands running over my chest.

"Want me?" She asked in broken English. I shook my head furiously and backed up again. Remy had let go my leash earlier to examine the girl, so I was able to continue backing away from the slave.

"Hold still, Scott," Remy ordered from behind the slave girl. He sounded amused. "Surely you still like women, hein?"

I was desperate. Her mouth had come down on my nipple, her tongue flicking at the bud. At the same time her hand gripped my growing erection firmly. She knew exactly what to do to hold me in place. My breath grew shallow and my palms began sweating. It wasn't so much anger I was feeling, but desperation. He couldn't do this to me. I shook my head. "Please, Master, please don't," I begged through gritted teeth.

"Now Scott," Remy's tone grew stern, "It isn't as if you're not enjoying yourself." A small drop of pre-cum oozed from the head of my cock as he said this and I flushed in shame. Arienne ran a finger over it and put it to her lips, smearing them and then wantonly licking the fluid away, a hunger in her eyes.

"Taste good," she said. "Would like to have more." She dropped to her knees without warning and licked the head of my dick, pushing the tip of her tongue into the slit.

"Christ!" I gasped, trying to push her gently away. Although I really wanted to slap her away. And I wanted her to suck my cock.

Remy, Escalada, and the nobleman who had joined them chuckled at my expense.

"He can't decide what he wants more," Escalada observed smugly. "To hit the girl or let her ride him." He turned to Remy. "It won't take long for him to respond to the breeding program. My mares are well-trained."

"So I see," Remy replied.

At that I shoved the girl hard. She landed back on her ass and arms with a yelp. Suddenly I saw Rachael's visage superimposed on the face of the slave girl. My daughter from another parallel universe. A slave to Ahab, and a mutant 'hound'. She'd been forced to hunt mutants for that sick bastard, betraying her own kind. I could see my future with Escalada then. My children, children I'd never get to raise, like Nathan and Racheal and Nate Grey, sold into slavery, forced into this terrible life. The fact that I would never see those children, never know that they were mine if our paths ever crossed, didn't matter. They would still be my children, just as surely as Racheal and Nate were. They were still a part of me. I would never be able to bare thinking that one of my own was kept like chattel. I backed up looking for the nearest exit. Looking for a weapon or a means to my own death. If anything could cause me to think of suicide, it would be this forced breeding. I'd kill myself just to stop my potential offspring from being born into slavery. Several of the courtiers near us looked over curiously at the commotion. There was going to be a show. One of Remy's favorites was about to bolt.

Suddenly a wave of exquisite warmth and pleasure ran through me. "No," I whispered as my legs buckled underneath me. Remy was using his charm on me. I hit the floor hard, bruising my knees.

"He'll respond, Frederico," Remy said as he stepped to me. "But I t'ink right now it's too much for my poor boy. Come see me tomorrow."

Escalada was pulling Arienne to her feet. He nodded. "Certainly Milord. Tomorrow." He left then, an excited bounce in his step as he dragged the now weeping slave girl along behind him. I had the terrible feeling she was going to be punished for my rejection.

Remy stood over me, a smirk on his face. Then he turned to Alex, who'd stood by solemly through the whole event, knowing there wasn't anything he could have done. More than likely, if the girl had come on to him, he would have let her suck him off. "Take him back upstairs," Remy said. "See de guard at de door and tell him I said to escort you back. No trouble, cher. I don' want
to 'ave to punish you tonight."

Alex swallowed and nodded. Then he bent down and helped me to my feet. He pulled one of my arms over his shoulder and grabbed me firmly around the waist. I was still drowning in the blissful sensations and unsteady on my feet. But by the time we'd made it to the door and out of the room, Remy's power had diminished immeasurably. I yanked away from Alex and stood furiously in the hallway as my brother told the guard what Remy had ordered. He took our leashes without a word and led us back up to the bedroom.

Part XLI


As soon as we got to the room I stormed toward the bathroom. I wanted to break the gold chain around my waist and crush the red stone in my navel under my heel. But I couldn't afford the punishment I'd incur. It would hinder my escape. Especially if it involved being chained back to Remy's bed, or locked in the stocks. So I dropped them on the floor outside the shower stall, along with the leash to my collar and the ornamental cuffs.

I turned on the hot water until it was nearly scalding and scrubbed myself raw. I wanted to wash away any touch the slave girl had placed on my body. My skin became as red as a sunburn. I almost took the top layer of flesh off my cock from the force of my cleansing. Every inch of me tingled with stinging pain, but I relished it. I was clean. I stayed in the shower until the water turned ice cold. Alex would have to suffer, but I didn't really care at the moment.

Eventually, my shivering drove me from the shower. I toweled off quickly and stepped back into the bedroom. Alex was seated on the coffee table, not wanting to get oil on one of the couches. *Such a good little slave,* I thought sarcastically. A fire had been built. Looking up at me, he said nothing. He knew better than to speak to me. I dropped my chains and adornments onto the coffee table and watched his eyes widen in surprise. He probably expected me to destroy them.

After looking at him for a moment, sizing him up, wondering what he would do, I walked over to Remy's armoire and opened the doors.

"There's a guard outside," Alex said quietly.

I turned my head to glare back at him. Then I stalked to the bedroom door and flung it open. There wasn't just one guard, but three. And the farthest one from me held the control box to my collar. Remy wasn't taking any chances.

The guards swung around to face me, a threat in their every movement.

"Shut the door, slave," one of them ordered.

"What if I don't, you cowardly, shit-brained, wannabe warrior?" I asked with a sneer.

He snarled and made to lunge at me, but the guard next to him grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back. "You know he's only trying to goad you, Emil."

"Emil?" I taunted. "Isn't that kind of a girlie name?"

"If you don't shut the door right now," the second man threatened, "Kar will activate your collar and then I'll shove my spear so far up your ass it'll come out your mouth."

I gave him a malicious grin. "Haven't got the balls to fuck me yourself?"

The one who'd spoken moved a lot faster than I'd given him credit for, shoving me back so hard I landed on my ass. Then the door slammed shut and I heard it lock. I could hear their angry mutterings outside. I got to my feet and gave into a moment of childish rage, pounding one fist against the door and hollering, "Motherfuckers!"

I whirled around, ready and willing to pick a fight with Alex, but he'd judiciously disappeared into the bathroom.

*Coward*, I thought, almost yelling the word out loud. Feeling out of control, unable to contain the fury inside me, I circled the room, pacing like a caged animal. I was waiting for Remy, who might not even return.

It seemed like hours had passed before Alex finally emerged from the bathroom. I'd been tempted to drag him out of there earlier, just to see what he'd do, but I'd pushed the compulsion back, knowing I'd only regret it later. When I saw him move toward the bed I intercepted him, grabbing him by the shoulders and leaning menacingly into his personal space.

"What are you going to do, Alex?" I asked. "You going to let him breed you like cattle?"

He closed his eyes with a sigh. Then pushed my hands away. "It won't come to that," he said. "Remy's not going to send us to Escalada."

My lip curled up. "Because he *loves* you?" I asked, my voice laced with sarcasm. "Get real. He'll do whatever he damn well pleases. And if you haven't figured it out by now, HE DOESN'T LOVE YOU!" The last part of the sentence I hollered at him, annunciating every word.

"I know," Alex told me softly. "I'm not stupid, Scott."

"Could have fooled me," I said, bitterly satisfied when I saw his face grow dark. I was ready for a fight. It never came. My hot-tempered brother crumpled before me for a moment, before his face grew cold and stony.

"I'm not going to fight you, Scott," he said. "You can try all you like. You can even hit me if you really feel like you need to. But I won't hit you back."

"You fucking coward," I spat. "You dumb fucking coward."

He ignored me and climbed into the bed. I looked at him for a long moment, clenching and unclenching my fists, tempted to take him up on his offer to beat him to a bloody pulp. But the rational side of my brain had finally taken over. I let out a breath and asked, "what makes you think he won't send us to Escalada?"

Alex had turned away from me. "I don't know. It just seems like the way Remy is acting, that he's trying to goad you."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Goad me into what?"

"I don't know. Trying to escape, maybe."

"But he's posted three guards at the door," I said. "He knows I couldn't get passed them."

Alex turned over to look at me. "I don't know what he's up to. If I did, maybe I'd tell you. But I don't. I've never been able to read him. Maybe he will send us to Escalada. It just doesn't feel like he will."

"If he does, I'll find a way to kill myself before I get bred. I won't be a stud for him or Escalada. I won't have my children raised to be sold into slavery!" I spat.

"It won't come to that," Alex said again. "And even if he did breed us at sometime, I just don't think he'd sell our kids into slavery. Look at Henry. Do you think someone who acts like he does around Henry could just let his slaves' kids be sold?"

"I don't know what the fuck to think anymore. Maybe he would if the price is right." I sneered.

"No," Alex replied, turning away from me again. "I may not be able to read him, but for some reason I feel sure he wouldn't do that."

I was quiet for a while, my thoughts in a whirl. I stood there watching Alex, wanting to say more, wanting to keep him talking, perhaps wanting to provoke him into fighting me. But he wouldn't. He'd said he wouldn't fight me and I believed there was nothing I could have said that would have changed his mind, that would have caused him to strike out at me. Finally I said, "You've
really given up now."

"Not now," he answered. "I gave up a while ago, when I realized I couldn't escape. When Remy held the one thing most important to me against me."

"Who?" I asked. "Who is it? You owe me that."

He shook his head. "I don't owe you anything."

"Fine," I snapped. "Then at least tell me what's gotten into you? You use to be more of fighter. Now you're acting like some lovesick fool. Do you really love him?"

Alex grew quiet for a long, long time. But just as I was about to pull him out of the bed and shake the answer out of him, he said, "Maybe. I feel something. Need. Maybe I just need him. Need this." He waved his arm vaguely.

"It's sick," I spat the words like poison from my mouth.

"You think I don't know that!" He roared, turning over to glare at me. Then he grew quiet again and said, "Rationally, logically, I know it's wrong. But emotionally I can't stop how I feel. I'll do anything...*anything*, to have him touch me with some tenderness, no matter how small."

"Even sell out your own brother?" It had to be asked.

He wouldn't answer, so I repeated the question stepping toward the bed with my hands balled into fists. Still he wouldn't say anything, just kept his eyes on the bed. I asked him again. And then I started throwing more and more questions at him: Would he sell out the X-men? His father? Lorna? All for an ounce of Remy's love? I began to rage at him, coming so close to using my fists that I had to pull back across the room, gain some distance to keep from hurting him physically. Though I wasn't against lashing out at him verbally. But eventually he wore me down with his silence. With his refusal to even look at me. It was like ranting at a stone wall.

"You're pathetic," I finally said, unable to keep the weariness out of my voice. "I can understand now why you always felt you couldn't live up to me. Because you can't. Maybe I shouldn't come back for you."

Then Alex said, so softly I almost didn't hear, "Maybe you shouldn't." He'd turned away from me again.

I was on him in a flash, my fury renewed. I yanked him on to his back and straddled his chest, bending over him so that my face was only inches from him. He kept his eyes shut.

"Look at me!" I bit out through clenched teeth.

He shook his head.

"God dammit! Open your fucking eyes, slave!" And I slapped him hard across the face. His eyes popped open. But there was no anger. Only resignation. This was how he expected to be treated. It pissed me off to no end, so I slapped him again and again.

"You shit!" I hollered. "You little piece of worthless shit! You fucking slave!" I slapped him again, this time hoping for something other than resignation from him. "You told me not to make you choose. Well, I won't! I'm coming back for you! And I'll drag you out of here by your balls if I have to. And you know why?!" I dug my fingers into his chin to make certain he was looking at me. He didn't answer, so I told him. "Because you're my dip-shit cowardly brother and I love you and I am NOT leaving you here like you left me at the orphanage!"

I glared at him, but inside I was stunned at my own words. *Where the hell had that come from?* And still Alex said nothing. But at least there were tears in his eyes.

I pushed off him, my cock hard and needing. But this wasn't about sex. And I wasn't going to rape my brother, no matter how much I wanted to pound into him over and over until he came to his senses. I know Alex would have let me fuck him, even in the furious state I was in, but it would still be rape and I'd still regret it later on.

So I went back to pacing the room, back and forth, circling the couches, like a restless hunter with no prey in sight. Several times I went to the door, tempted to fling it open. But then I remembered that it had been locked. Once in a while, in a rush of anger, I'd slammed my fist against the door. When there was no response, I'd start to pace again, waiting for Remy, preparing for a confrontation. He never came.

As the grey morning light filtered through the window, I began to slow my restless pacing. By then I knew Remy wasn't coming home. My anger began to dissipate and eventually I gave into my emotional fatigue. I crawled into bed beside Alex and pulled him into my arms. He'd fallen asleep hours ago, and woke with a start as I grabbed him, none to gently. He tried to jerk away.
But I'd be damned if I'd let him. I would have the comfort of holding him, if nothing else. He quieted a few minutes later and I kissed the back of his neck where it met his shoulder, satisfied to feel him shudder. There was still this attraction between us, this need. Anger and hurtful, hate-filled words weren't enough to drive it away.

Drowsy and warm from the heat of his body, I grazed the length of him with my hand, from shoulder to hip and back. Lazy strokes, smiling as he squirmed, until finally I cupped his balls possessively like Remy, like his master. For several minutes I rolled the loose silky skin between my fingers, almost laughing as he forced back a moan and stiffened. Then I gave him one slow
stroke down the length of his semi-erect shaft until I reached the root. And grasping as much of his cock and balls tightly, I stilled him against my body. Soon after I fell asleep like that with a final whispered, "good boy," in his ear, as he remained quiet in my arms.

Part XLII


I woke at dusk, the sun just dipping below the horizon. Alex wasn't beside me. But when I sat up, I saw him sitting on the couch facing the window, a book in his hand, staring unseeing out over the city. I laid back down in the bed, still drained and seeing no reason to get up.

The sun had disappeared completely and darkness shrouded the room when Remy returned. When I heard the door unlock, I was on my feet in an instant, crouched into a fighting stance. Remy entered with an arrogant smile.

"You fucking bastard! I'll be dead before I ever let that motherfucker breed me to his whores!"

Remy chuckled and my fury increased tenfold. I flew at him and was hit with a wave of desire so powerful I never reached him. I saw Alex rise up off the couch for a moment, as if to come to my aid, but then he sat back down, waiting, unsure.

"I grow tired of your defiance, cher," Remy said, his voice laced with warning. "You'll do as you're told. Now go back to bed."

Weak from the intensity of his power, I made my way back to the bed and crawled under the covers, shaking with need. I watched Remy as he bent to kiss my brother. I watched him as he sat on the couch while the servants brought him food. Watched him with lust and hunger as he ate, occasionally feeding Alex scraps from his plate. Then I watched with envy as he sat back, pulling Alex down onto his lap, savoring a no doubt expensive red wine while he stroked my brother's hair, murmuring soft questions and listening with a nod or a smile to the answers Alex gave. Once in a while he'd dip his finger into the wine and then place it against Alex's lip for him to suckle like a babe in his mother's arms. I shuddered every time.

My lids were heavy, my cock swollen with desire. But I could barely move, unable to even stroke my cock. My limbs felt heavy and useless. The sensations within me held me still. I was like a puppet and Remy pulled the strings. It was the strongest control Remy had ever had on me and I could now seriously believe how Alex hadn't been able to plunge the knife into him that one night when he had the chance.

When he left Alex, ordering him to remain on the couch, and came over to me, he played my body like a master, bringing me to the point of orgasm over and over, then backing off at just the right moment to keep me from going over the edge. Touching, tasting, scenting. His hands were everywhere, ghosting across my flesh. His tongue dipped into passages he'd never explored before. For hours he kept me heightened with arousal, never finding release until I was begging, pleading with him to fuck me by the time he finally thrust into me. I came screaming his name, riding him hard in the afterglow, gasping out words of love, of ownership.

And when he finished, he held my gaze, nodding his head with a smile. Then he rolled off of me, calling Alex over and telling him to clean me off. Without hesitation my brother bathed my chest and groin with his tongue, lapping up my seed as I lay there spineless, unable to move. When Remy left to shower, he rolled me onto my stomach and cleaned the semen from my ass, dipping his tongue in deep to get every drop. Remy returned shortly after and pulled me into his arms. I was asleep in minutes, as if he'd planted the suggestion in my brain.

Late in the night Remy, Alex and I were awoken by a guard. A problem had arisen in the city and several council members were at the door of the palace demanding to see Remy. He waved at the guard and rubbed his eyes.

"I'll be dere shortly."

Then he was up, dressing quickly and was gone in moments. I lay back down, still groggy, my mind fuzzy from the residual effects of Remy's power. But the longer he stayed away, the clearer my thoughts became. Here was my opportunity. With Remy distracted by the councilors and with the guards hopefully called away to contain whatever crisis was occurring in the city, I might not be missed for hours.

Carefully, I turned to look at Alex. He'd fallen back to sleep. I prodded him a few times, each time just a bit harder than the one before. He never stirred. I could feel my heart speeding up and my stomach churning into knots. The time was now. I couldn't hesitate.

I slipped out of the bed as quietly as I could and moved to the door of the bedroom. It was unlocked And when I opened it, there were no guards standing watch. My eyes lit up with excitement and fear. I left the door partly opened and went over to Remy's armoire. Thankfully it made no sound when I opened it.

I was dressed in minutes. Black leggings, a long black coat that I could draw up to hide the inhibitor collar from the back, a high collared shirt to hide it in the front, and black boots. The clothes were snug. Wouldn't fit quite right in certain places And the boots were loose on my feet. Just the sensation of wearing clothes after so many months caused me a great deal of irritation. Though the leggings were a smooth cotton and the shirt silk, they made my skin itch and tingle uncomfortably. And I felt hot. Sweat started to bead up along my spine after only a few minutes in the clothing. But I ignored the discomfort, letting the excitement of escape overcome it. The clothes would do until I'd made it home.

With a last look at Alex, who hadn't even turned in his sleep, I slipped out the door and down the hall. The palace was quiet. Almost too quiet I feared. For a time paranoia set in. I saw no one and began to worry that perhaps this was a trap. But I squelched my fear. The guards could easily take me. One push of the button on the box that controlled my collar and they'd have me.

Finding the 'playroom' was fairly easy. I made a few wrong turns, but eventually I found myself standing before its familiar door. By that time I'd had to avoid a few of the guards. Oddly enough I found this reassuring. I could tell by their manner that no one seemed to be looking for me yet.

In front of the 'playroom' door I turned slowly around thinking back to that day I'd been captured. I'd been dragged into the room from the right. Backtracking the way I'd come, I found the last set of stairs the guards had yanked me down. I went up slowly, carefully, my hearing and sight on full alert. There was no one at the top of the stairs. But at the end of the hall two guards stood talking. I ducked into a darkened doorway, studying the corridor, trying to remember which way I'd come down. After a moment I had the direction. It led passed the two guards. Cursing softly, I took several slow deep breathes, waiting and hoping they'd move on.

It took a while, precious moments I couldn't afford to spare, but finally the guards separated. One walked right by me. But the shadows of the doorway concealed me from view. I moved on.

On through the dark halls, up dimly lit staircases, until I realized in frustration I was lost. And that frustration almost got me caught. I was high up in the citadel again. Nothing looked familiar. If I'd been here before it had only been that one time. And I'd been dazed from the jaunt and in pain from the penile device.

I started moving faster through the corridors, trying to keep to the shadows and doorways. But as I rounded a corner, the early morning sunlight streaming through a tall narrow window distracted me and I came face to face with one of the servants of the palace. I turned slightly, ready to run back the other way when he bowed, saying, "Milord? Are you lost?"

I whirled back to face him and came to my full height. The servant was looking at me carefully as if hoping he hadn't offended me. I immediately adopted an haughty look, trying to intimidate, praying that he hadn't looked too carefully, and seen the collar hidden beneath the neck of the silk shirt I wore. I stalled for a moment, trying to decide what tale I could weave that might get me directions to the portal room. Finally, figuring I had nothing to lose at this point, I used the direct approach.

"I'm looking for the portal room," I said in a sneering tone.

The servant blinked for a moment, waiting for an explanation. I kept my eyes on him, although I desperately wanted to look around to make sure no one was coming. When I continued to stare, saying nothing else, he became nervous. Mentally I crossed my fingers, hoping he was only anxious because he felt he was questioning a nobleman. Whatever went through his mind, though, caused him to help me out.

"It's two floors down, Milord. Directly beneath us on the right."

I gave him a curt nod and strode confidently back down the way I'd come to the staircase, three corridors away. By then I was breathing hard and sweating profusely. It was early morning and I'd been gone for hours. It was only a matter of time before I was missed. If I wasn't already. Alex could be awake by now. And although he had said once that he wouldn't hinder my escape, now I wasn't so sure I could trust him not to betray me.

Reaching the stairway, I flew down the stairs, taking them two and three at a time. I was running now with a growing sense of dread.

But then the portal room was there. The door was unlocked and standing open. I should have been suspicious, but my focus lay solely on the portal across the room. A large stone circle stood on a dais, four steps from the floor. The stone was a foot wide and framing a swirling oily substance that changed colors as it moved. A panel stood to the right of the circle, red digital
numbers glowing in the dark room.

I sprinted the distance from the door to the steps of the dais and was up on it in one leap when a wave of nausea hit me like an out of control train and I crumpled to the floor like a rag doll. My collar had been activated.

Part XLIII

I immediately heard boots hitting the marble floor, coming closer. Then they appeared within my sight, black leather boots exactly like the ones I wore. *God no!* My mind screamed. I was so close. So close! I could feel tears flooding my eyes.

"Strip him and cuff him," Remy said. He hardly sounded angry. More amused than anything. I tried to shut my eyes to force back the tears, but my lids wouldn't move. I could only stare helplessly at my reflection in his boots, until he turned away.

Hands unbuttoned my coat and tugged off my boots. They weren't gentle. My leggings and silk shirt came away with a hard yank. Then two guards lifted my torso up off the floor and dragged me down the steps. As I lay on my belly, unable to move a muscle, my arms were cuffed tightly behind me. If I could have I would have opened my eyes wide in surprise as my legs were bent up and my ankles were locked into cuffs attached to a foot long metal bar, a cuff on each end to force my legs apart. Then the restraints around my wrists were pulled back and locked down into the middle of the metal bar. I was bowed back in a painful arch.

Once my arms and legs were secured, the guards pulled me up by my arms until I was in a kneeling position before Remy. The cuffs and metal bar held me up, but I swayed unsteadily. My head had lolled back and to the right, allowing me to see Remy's face above me.

He was smiling pleasantly, his eyes sparkling with amusement in the now brightly lit room. A numb kind of terror went through me. He wasn't angry. This had been planned.

"You never disappoint me, Scott," Remy chuckled. "I give you an opportunity to escape and predictably you take it. I am sorry dat I had to let you come dis far. But I had to show you de futility of escape."

He took the back of my head firmly in one hand and bent to brush his lips against mine. My muscles twitched with my useless attempt to pull away. "I'll never let you go, mon cher. I'll never tire of you," he murmured in my ear. "Not even when you bend to me completely. I t'ink I might even enjoy dat more. I certainly love seeing your brot'er so broken." If I could have I would have cried. Inside I felt I was dying. A part of me was shattering.

Remy stood up and ruffled my hair. "Escalada was a stroke of luck." He looked at me quizzically. "You didn' t'ink I'd seriously send you to dat man to breed?" He laughed at his cruel inquiry as if it were a joke. "Well, I suppose you did, eh? It's no matter now. De slave he present to me was an
unregistered Alpha. He lied. I could tell dat she was more dan he claimed. Healing only fifty percent faster dan a human would 'ave left scarring, no matter what he tried to tell me. And he's made several unauthorized and undisclosed visits to Eart'. It was only a matter of time before I had him arrested. He was charged yesterday when he came to see me. He's been stripped of his estate and his Genoshan born slaves will be sold. De mutant ones will come 'ere 'til I decide what to do wit' dem." He caressed my cheek tenderly at that point. "But none of dat is your concern, mon couer. You must t'ink only of how I will punish you. And what you will need to do to earn
m'forgiveness."

He stepped back still looking at me. "I knew I'd 'ave to break you de same way I broke your brot'er. Too stubborn, you Summers. Very much from de same stock. And wit' my marriage coming up I needed to do it soon, to keep you from causing trouble. You'll go to a trainer, cher. But first I'll give you an incentive to behave."

He turned toward the door and said, "Look. Here's your brot'er come to join us."

A voice rang out across the room, but it wasn't my brother's. "Scott!"

Every muscle in my body that was returning to life froze. Hurried footsteps slapped against the cold marble floor and with a great deal of effort I forced my head to turn in their direction.

"No," I whispered. I could feel Remy's smile, indulgent, as if he were humoring a favorite child. My heart began to race even faster until I thought it might burst out of my chest. My breathing increased with every slap of the feet that ran toward me. "No, Jean!" I rasped, my voice getting stronger. "Oh God, NO!"

Then Remy stepped into my line of sight, intercepting my wife. "Ma chere," he purred. And Jean came to a sudden halt before him, not even trying get around him.

When he stepped to her side I could see her swaying, the lids of her eyes heavy with bliss, drugged by his power. Christ! I closed my eyes slowly, praying that when I opened them again this would be just a dream.

But it wasn't a dream. My wife was standing off to my left, an inhibitor collar around her neck, naked and under Remy's sway. I had once been told that his charm power, for whatever reason, had an even stronger affect on women. I could see the proof of it now. He'd wrapped his arm around her waist possessively and was whispering in her ear. Her lips were parted in a lazy
smile at his words, but her eyes remained on me.

Everything seemed to slow to a crawl. I could hear Remy's soft voice murmuring French and English. I heard my name once. I saw him gently guide Jean over to stand directly in front of me. I was able now to slowly shake my head from side to side, the movement increasing with every second until reality seemed to come screaming back at me and I was shouting at Remy with every furious shake, "NononononoNO!"

He stopped speaking to Jean and smiled at me. Still indulgently, but with a hint of malice. His words were clear now. I no longer felt as if I heard him through a glass bowl.

"Look who's come to visit, Scott."

"You motherfucking bastard!" I roared. "You cowardly piece of shit!" Every foul name I could dredge up spewed from my lips. Remy just kept smiling, saying nothing until I'd worn myself down from my fury. Tears poured down my face by the time I was finished.

"Let her go," I rasped at the end of my rant. "Please, Remy, for God's sake, let her go." I dropped my head in defeat.

"Are you finished, cher," Remy asked in that indulgent tone he continued to use. I nodded once. A movement to my left caused me to look up. Alex was standing there with Lorna.

"Oh God," I croaked. "Alex."

He just looked at me in desolation. He had his arm around Lorna's waist. Lorna looked shell-shocked. She stared at me blankly, saying nothing.

Remy beamed. "De whole family is here now, eh? Alex?"

Alex turned to look at Remy and nodded slowly.

"Come. Kiss your sister-in-law," Remy said. As Alex looked back at me for a moment, I saw Remy whisper something to Jean, who giggled. Then Alex stepped forward and place a chaste kiss on Jean's cheek. But Remy had other plans. Jean grasped Alex's face between her hands and brushed her lips against his. He froze and she increased the pressure, enticing him, pressing her full length against him wantonly.

Remy chuckled and caught my desperate glare. "I t'ink Jean has been hiding a powerful attraction to your baby brot'er, Scott."

"You're doing this," I said hoarsely through clenched teeth.

"P'etetre. But regardless, she seems to be enjoying herself. Jean," he called. She looked back with a dazed smile. Alex had taken her wrists, gently holding her at bay. "Would you like to pleasure your brot'er? Maybe fuck him, or take him in your mout' watch him cum?"

Her smile broadened and she nodded.

"No!" Alex cried. "Master, please! I've done everything you've asked. Don't make me do this!"

Remy looked at him for a long moment seeming to consider his plea.

"Jean," I said in the silence, "you can fight this. You can break his spell. Come on, hon. Don't let him control you."

She smiled at me, her look one of amusement that said she wasn't doing anything she hadn't thought of before. Then she reached for Alex, just brushing his nipples with her fingertips.

"You see, mon cher," Remy laughed, "de fun we'll have?"

"Bastard!" I snapped. "Leave her alone! She wouldn't be doing this if you weren't using your power on her."

"Dat's a true shame. Can you just imagine de picture she and your baby brot'er would make?"

"Please!" Alex said again, desperation in his voice.

Remy sighed. "Very well. You been a good boy. Perhaps later." He turned to Jean. "Jean, come here." My wife's shoulders slumped and she pouted, but stepped back to him. He took her arm and guided her about six feet away from me, saying, "But you deserve some entertainment, Scott, for all de trouble I've put you t'rough. Lorna?" Lorna's head snapped up and she gazed at Remy,
her expression still blank. "Come kiss your almost sister-in-law."

"No!" Alex and I both shouted, knowing exactly what Remy had in mind. But Remy gave a warning glance at Alex and held his hand out to Lorna. She shuffled over to him like a mental patient heavily drugged on thorazine and took his hand. I shook my head.

"Please, Remy, Master. I'll do anything. Leave them out of this. I'll do anything you ask," I begged.

"I know you will," he nodded with vicious smile. "I know you will." Then he murmured to Jean again. She smiled seductively at Lorna and pulled her into her arms.

Their kiss began tentatively, gently, as if in greeting. Jean cupped Lorna's buttocks and thrust her hips slightly again and again. I watched in horror and arousal, unable to look away, still shaking my head. The kiss became more insistent, more passionate with every minute that went by. Lorna seemed to come alive under Jean's touch. She opened her mouth with a soft gasp, letting Jean's tongue slide in without hesitation.

I couldn't speak. A quiet gurgle came from between my lips. I was screaming inside, every muscle tense from the hell I found myself in. I wanted to run to Jean, snatch her away before she went any further. This would leave scars. We wouldn't survive this without deep ugly wounds. I twisted my wrists in the metal cuffs, scaping the flesh, but unable to do more damage. I welcomed the pain, but I really wanted to make my wrists bleed, to whittle away the outer layers of muscle and skin and get down to artery and bone. To slice in so deep that Remy would have to stop this nightmare just to keep me alive.

But the metal was smooth. Little friction, no rough edges to cut. And when I realized this, I began to struggle in earnest. Alex put a hand on my shoulder then, to keep me from falling. I glared up at him in fury. But when I saw his face my anger faltered.

Sadness. A terrible *I warned you* sadness played across his eyes, his mouth. And I understood his pain. Understood the burden he'd had to keep from me because I would have said something to Remy. I wouldn't have been able to keep my anger in check. And Lorna might have suffered for it. I gave him one curt nod.

He backed away, unable to watch anymore. And I couldn't really blame him. I could only imagine all he'd had to go through just to keep her safe. To keep her out of Remy's bed and away from the auction block. I would have done the same for Jean. And after all that he'd done, it wasn't enough. Remy was still using Lorna. Corrupting her as he was corrupting my wife. I dropped my head, closing my eyes once more in defeat. This was one more battle Remy would win. One step closer to winning the war.

"After all de trouble I went t'rough to put dis party toget'er and you're not enjoying yourself, cher?"

I opened my eyes to see Remy's boots in front of me. I couldn't lift my head to meet his gaze. So he crouched down in front of me and lifted my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes.

"Stop, Remy," I said brokenly. "Don't do this to Jean. To Lorna."

"But dey are so beautiful toget'er. And unlike you, dey're 'aving a very good time at dis party." He winked and added, "I see de show isn't completely lost on you." Then he reached for my cock and stroked it gently. I was half hard already. His touch brought me fully to life.

"Please...please," I said over and over until he stopped my plea with a finger on my lips. He tapped my top lip rhythmically for a moment.

"T'ink of dis as your penance, Scott, if you like," he finally said, "for trying to escape. It is partly why I'm doing it."

I closed my eyes again, but he squeezed my erection gently with a warning and tapped my eyes. "Keep dem open. I want you to watch it all. I want you to see exactly what I'm capable of."

I opened my eyes and looked over his shoulder. Lorna and Jean were wrapped in each other's arms, smiling at me. Remy had stopped them just to make certain I didn't miss a minute of the show.

"I let your brot'er step outside because of de love he's shown me. He understands why I 'ave to do dis to you."

"No he doesn't," I snapped. "He doesn't understand. *I* don't understand. You knew I couldn't get away. You didn't have to drag my wife into this...this sick world."

For a moment I saw a flash of anger cross his face and a cold terror ran through me. But then his eyes softened. "Scott, mon cher, you still try to deny how much dis world attracts you, how much you love what has been done to you."

"No!" I said with a strangled cry. "I don't!"

"Look at how wit' a touch I can awaken such desire in you." Remy smiled. "But keep denying if you like. Not'ing will change. You'll still be mine."

He moved to crouch beside me, somehow managing to keep full contact with my cock, stroking and fisting until I gasped, about to climax. Then he backed off. "Easy, cher, easy," he murmured. "Not yet. Not for a good while."

I snarled at him, but he laughed and said, "Unless you'd like to join dem. I might let you if you ask nicely."

I shook my head vigorously. "Fuck you, you sick bastard!"

He laughed again and waved his hand at Lorna and Jean. "Well, den, on wit' de show!" My wife took the lead, as she and Lorna began to kiss again at Remy's order. She broke the kiss to trail her lips down Lorna's jaw to her throat. Just above the collar, she sucked at the skin. I knew it would leave a mark and I cringed. Jean had never been into biting or love marks. Every inhibition was crumbling as Remy held sway.

Lorna threw her head back, clutching Jean's upper arms tightly, gasping at the pain she inflicted. Then Jean moved down even lower. The tip of her tongue came out to just taste Lorna's right nipple. I couldn't help it. Every dark fantasy I might have had at night in my bed at the mansion came bubbling up to the surface and I groaned, feeling my cock grow more heavy with desire. Remy chuckled softly in my ear. "You t'ought about dis, didn' you, cher? All dose beautiful women at Xavier's. How could you not, hein?"

"Yeah. Storm was one of my favorite fantasies," I snarled, trying to goad him, hoping a rise out of him would put a stop to what Lorna and Jean were doing, or at least cause him to strike out at me in anger. I would have welcomed the pain.

But he only laughed more and gave my cock a quick stroke. "She's a beautiful woman, no doubt. T'ough I wouldn't 'ave figured you for somet'ing so...exotic. Non. Figured you too vanilla. Straight American dream, eh?"

I almost snorted. He had no idea. His hand ran down my cock again, slowly, lingering, drawing out my want. But when I closed my eyes he grasped me hard. "Keep dem open," he growled.

So I watched, unable to stop my body from reacting to his touch and to the erotic performance in front of me. Had I not spent months naked and used for sexual pleasure, maybe I wouldn't have responded so easily. But it didn't matter now. My body strained against my bonds with the need, my cock weeping and hard. Yet, as I neared orgasm, Remy backed off, pinching down forcefully
on the tip of my penis. I cursed at him, but he only barked out a laugh and began to fist me again into hardness.

By this time Jean had Lorna stretched out on the cool marble floor beneath her. She had placed one of her knees between Lorna's legs and as she kissed her deeply, she gently pumped the knee against Lorna's crotch. I twitched and shuddered at the gasps and moans coming from Lorna. Jean was aggressive, biting and sucking at Lorna's mouth, tweaking her hard nipples until they
seemed to strain from her breasts. Then her tongue made its way down Lorna's neck until it reached one of the tight buds. Jean circled the rosy flesh over and over and soon had Lorna writhing in pleasure, her arms thrown above her head, her fingers intertwining. Lorna whimpered and begged for release. I almost let out a plea of my own. Had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep my mouth shut. It was too much, I wanted to say. It was beautiful and perverse and so goddamn arousing. I hissed when Remy pushed his thumb into the slit of my cock.

Jean plundered the nipple below her, sucking it hard between her lips as one of her hands stroked down Lorna's belly, smoothing the soft skin again and again. She backed her knee away from Lorna's crotch and her hand paused in midair for a moment. But her lips, teeth and tongue never ceased. And Lorna's body never stopped undulating with pleasure. Mesmerized for a minute, my
breathing shallow and raspy, I watched Jean's long delicate finger swirl around Lorna's navel and then trail down all the way between her legs. Lorna had bent her leg up so that I couldn't see where Jean's finger had gone. But I could imagine where it landed when Lorna squealed and arched her back. Jean smiled, the rosy nipple caught between her teeth. Then she drew her hand away to set it on the floor next to Lorna's stomach. She trailed the tip of her tongue down the same path her finger had gone. But just as she reached the curly green tinged hair of Lorna's groin, she looked up and smiled at me.

I drew in a sharp breath, once again just on the edge of orgasm. I was even closer this time. I could feel my scrotal sack tighten. Suddenly white light flashed across my eyes and burst of pain so sharp I nearly passed out ran through my cock and up my spine. Remy had attached the penile device around my erection. I couldn't even scream. All the air had left my body. And Remy continued to finger the tip of my cock. I tried to gasp and managed to rock forward just an inch, my body threatening to spill over onto the hard marble floor. But seeing what might happen, Remy pulled his hand away from my cock and grabbed my shoulder, yanking me back into place.

"None of dat, homme," he snarled in my ear. "I'll not let you hurt yourself to avoid your punishment. You stay still and watch de rest."

If I hadn't been in so much agony I might have laughed at the absurdity of his statement. My eyes fell back on Jean and Lorna. They were both watching me through hooded eyes. When Jean saw that my focus was back on her once again, she dipped her lips down between Lorna's legs. Lorna's knee was still bent up, preventing me from seeing Jean's profile. But it didn't take much
imagination to realize what was happening. Lorna began to thrust her hips into Jean's roving tongue, arching her back up off the floor and moaning in ecstasy. I saw Jean put her hand to Lorna's crotch and her arm began pumping back and forth. Lorna writhed and came with one long piercing scream, as if letting go years of rage and longing. I grimaced, clenching my teeth hard against the onslaught. Remy chuckled.

"Now dat's a talented tongue."

I jerked my head away from his voice in fury. "You unholy son of a bitch! I'll make you pay for this. Somehow I'll make you pay."

Jean was sitting back on her heels, that lazy seductive smile playing around her lips. Her mouth glistened a little from Lorna's moisture. She turned as she heard me cursing Remy and licked those beautiful lips, drawing a groan from me.

"P'etetre you will," Remy said, not at all angry at my outburst. "I'll take my chances. You're worth it, mon cher."

I quieted at that, startled by the odd compliment. First Jean, for whom it'd taken years for me to believe loved me. And now Remy, who could have anyone in Genosha or on Earth. I shook my head in amazement. How did I bring about this love in Jean, this obsession in Remy? I just couldn't fathom it.

Remy stroked my back affectionately as Jean rose to her feet and then gave Lorna a hand up. It appeared the show was at an end. I gave a silent prayer of thanks that it was over for now. Suddenly the dazed blissful look on Jean's face evaporated and her eyes widened in fear, panic, horror and revulsion. She wrenched her hand from Lorna's and rushed toward me. "Scott!" She sobbed, dropping to her knees in front of me. "My God! Scott! I didn't...I'm sorry..." She reached her hands out but didn't touch me, looking as if she were afraid to.

"He...his power..." She looked over my shoulder at Remy then, her eyes flashing with anger. "You filthy bastard! You aren't..."

"None of dat, chere," Remy said and Jean slumped back on her heels, once more under his power.

"It's okay, Jean," I told her, even though she might not understand or believe. "I know you couldn't stop it. It's okay."

"Of course it's okay." Remy patted my shoulder. "It's perfect." He called to Lorna who shuffled over to him without a word. "Take Jean outside to Alex and tell him to take you two back to your room," Remy ordered. "Den tell him to wait for me in my bedroom. Scott and I will be dere shortly, after we've worked out our differences."

Lorna took Jean's arm and pulled her to her feet, then led her out the door. I heard Lorna speak to Alex, her voice monotone, almost dead sounding. There was a faint scuffling sound and I heard Jean raise her voice. She seemed to have come out from under Remy's spell and was arguing with Alex. "Let me go!" I heard her snap. And then Alex's low heated tone cut through her protest. I
don't know what he said, but she grew silent after that. I listened for more, desperate to hear Jean's voice again, but they must have left. A sense of profound sadness came on me then. There was really no way I'd be able to carry out my threat of paying Remy back in kind. Not on his own turf. Not when I couldn't even successfully escape. And now that he held Jean captive there was no way I'd escape without her. The situation was hopeless.

I looked up when Remy moved to stand over me. He'd kept silent as I listened, letting it fully sink in that there was so little I could do. Now he wanted my attention. "You can' win dis, Scott," he said quietly. "I hold all de cards. If you choose to fight me I can 'ave her sold. Or I can give her to
one of de noblemen. Or noblewomen. I could fuck her in front of you while you're bound like dis. I could 'ave your brot'er fuck her. Or one of de guards. I could 'ave her whipped. So many ways to punish you."

He stopped talking then and merely looked at me. His expression was soft, almost ompassionate. I sighed in defeat. "You promise you won't hurt her?" I asked.

Remy crouched down with one knee on the floor and cupped my cheek. "I promise," he replied. "I 'ave no reason to hurt her except as a way to control you. I might even send her home in a few years when I believe dat you won' ever try to leave."

I nodded. "For her sake then. I'll obey you for her sake. But don't expect love."

"I'll accept dat for now." He smiled gently. "But time is on m'side. Your body already acts as if in love to m'touch."

I just looked at him blandly. He knew well enough how close he was to having me bend to his will. Even holding Jean hostage wouldn't change that. So I wasn't going to make it any easier for him.

"Don' look so glum. P'etetre in a few months I'll allow you to visit your wife to see dat she is well cared for. It's what I've allowed Alex to do. And she *will* be well cared for as long as your obedient. She'll be allowed clothing and some freedom in de palace. Like Lorna she'll 'ave an attendant to see to her needs and to protect her from any of m'guards or servants who might t'ink to use her. Even de t'reat will be severely punished. And," he added, "she'll be kept away from any noblemen or councilors so they'll not be tempted by her beauty."

"Fine," I sighed, when he seemed to be finished. "What now?"

"Now you'll go back to my room. Your punishment is over. I need not stretch it out. De week before m'wedding, you and Alex will be sent to a trainer for safekeeping. You'll remain dere until I return from my honeymoon. Den t'ings will go on as before."

"What about your bride-to-be?" I asked, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

"Lady Boutin?" Remy asked as if the answer was obvious. "She understands de way t'ings are. She's quite taken wit' you and Alex, and she knows she can never replace you two in my heart. So she won't ever try."

I took a deep breath. "Can I ask one more thing?"

"Ask whatever you'd like, Scott," Remy replied. "I wish to have everyt'ing out in de open now. I want dere to be no more secrets 'tween us."

I almost laughed at this. He wanted me to have no secrets from him. But he'd lie to me, I felt certain, if he thought he could use it to his advantage. I kept my anger in check so that I could hopefully get an honest answer from him. "If you ever tire of me or Alex will you promise never to sell us? And never to breed us? I couldn't take that."

Remy looked at me for a long time, his eyes gentle, his mouth quirked in a soft smile. Then he took my face between his hands and brushed his lips against mine. I felt such longing, such desire and love from him it nearly surpassed the pain I was already experiencing from the way my limbs were twisted in the restraints and my cock was throbbing in the mechanism wrapped securely around it. Then he moved back and looked at me again.

"I don' t'ink I'll ever tire of you, mon couer," he said quietly. "But if dere comes a time when I do, I'll send you home."

I felt the breath leave my body and tears come to my eyes. "Okay," I swallowed. "Okay."

He smiled gently again and stood up. "I'll call de guards to release you. You can remove de cock ring when you get back to de room."

He turned on his heel, but a sudden movement from the portal had him wheeling around to face it when a burst of bright pink kinetic energy exploded against his chest.

Part XLIV

Everything happened so fast that it all seemed to go by me as if in a dream. As Remy was knocked back from the force of the kinetic blow, I turned my head to watch him fly across the room. But a flash of blue shot passed me and I heard flesh meet flesh. I blinked to clear the sudden haze across my vision.

"Holy shit!" Came a gruff voice and I turned to see Logan and Remy coming toward me.

"Remy?" I mouthed, my throat suddenly dry.

"Good Lord! Scott!" I turned my head back around to see Henry McCoy dragging an unconscious Remy back over to me. Then the three exploded into action. Hank taking the lead dropped the body of someone I'd thought had been Remy Lebeau and stepped between me and the portal as Storm and Rogue came through.

"Gambit!" He snapped.

"On it, mon ami!" Remy answered, knowing what he wanted. I could barely understand what was happening. Remy ran to the portal, intercepting Storm and Rogue and the rest of the Calvary coming through. Gambit gestured to them with a nod to Henry and they turned away from where he stood shielding me from their curious looks. I felt a flush go through me from the shame of
being bound as I was.

But at that moment, two of the guards, who must have heard the commotion came barreling through the door and any attention to my predicament was drawn away with the beginning of a fierce battle. A loud shriek from Banshee drove the guards back.

"Take control of the palace," I shouted to Henry over the din. He nodded and began bellowing orders into his headset. Within a few moments most of the X-men who'd come through the portal -- and from what I could see it must have been the whole roster, including the Generation X kids, Pietro and Wanda -- had moved out to secure the citadel. Only Hank, Logan and Remy, the *real* Remy Lebeau I surmised, remained with me. Nathan came to kneel beside me for a moment. I flushed in shame as my son looked at me with tears in his eyes. "Dad," he said with so much love. More than I'd ever heard in his voice. "Dad, it's okay."

I closed my eyes and nodded. "Go help the others. Find Jean. Make sure she's safe." He stood up without question, looked at me one more time and then headed out the door. I felt a good deal of relief. He was one of the last people I wanted seeing me like this.

"Let's get you out of these, Cyke," Logan said with incredible compassion. After all these years I still couldn't believe he could be that kind to me. I'd expected a smirk and a smartass comment. But he was quiet, sincere in his kindness. He popped a claw and made short work of my restraints. Hank caught me before I hit the floor. My arms and legs were numb from the position I'd been forced into for such long time, and I could hardly move to stop myself from falling forward. He lowered me all the way down to the cool marble and then looked at the collar around my neck.

"Inhibitor?" He asked, though it was obvious. I think he was feeling almost as embarrassed as I was, now that the heat of battle had died in the immediate area surrounding us.

I nodded. "Do you have my visor?" I asked. Simple expedient questions. I wanted to stick to simple plans. My mind began to click back into battle mode, leadership tactics. And I'd thought I'd lost that ability months ago. It was like riding a bike.

He nodded and pulled it out of a small gym bag slung over his shoulder. "We weren't sure what to expect. I have your uniform too. Scott?"

"Later," I said more gruffly than I meant to. "Just get this thing off me."

Logan stepped over and bent down. "Hold still," he told me and placed the very tip of his claw against the top of the collar. With one downward stroke, he cut through it without even nicking my skin and pulled it from around my neck. Thank God for adamantium claws. I closed my eyes tightly as I felt him pull it away and Henry positioned my visor back into place. I occurred to me
suddenly that I hadn't even taken a last unfiltered look around.

But Hank was distracting me as he bent toward my groin. "I think I can just unclasp this..."

"No!" I hollered, causing him to jump. "No," I repeated more quietly. "I'll take care of it. Help me sit up and give me Remy's coat."

Gambit turned hearing his name. I suddenly realized he'd been standing over the unconscious form of his doppleganger since the other's had left. I felt a chill go though me at what he must be thinking. As he began to shrug off his trench coat I said, "No. Not yours."

He scowled. "Dat ain't Remy."

"Sure," I answered. "Just give me his coat. It's roomier."

He nodded and began to strip off my former master's coat. He wasn't very gentle about it. And when the false Remy stirred, he pummeled him back into unconsciousness. After he placed the coat over me carefully, Gambit went back to stand guard over his doppleganger. Or so I thought. I watched him as Hank began to explain how they'd found me.

But a minute into Henry's explanation I saw a glint of steel appear in Remy's hand as he bent down over my master's throat.

"No!" I roared. "Remy don't!"

Gambit swung around, knife in hand and a snarl on his face. "Why not?! De bastard deserves to die!"

"X-men don't kill." It was all I could think of to say. God knew I had wanted him dead often enough. But now, faced with the certainty of his execution, I couldn't bare to have it happen. I realized with a cold terror that I didn't want him dead. No matter what he'd done to me, I didn't want to see him die.

"Maybe dey should," Remy replied acidly. But the knife disappeared and he stood up and moved away. I breathed a sigh of relief and he gave me a puzzled frown. "What's dis all about, homme?" He asked coming toward me.

"You don't..."

"Why don't you catch up with the others," Hank interrupted me, speaking to Gambit in a tone that brook no argument. Gambit glared at him for a moment. "We'll take care of Sinister's clone." Henry said to him.

"I t'ink you should send him back to Sinister," Gambit snarled. "If you don' want to kill him."

"We'll take care of it, Remy. I promise." Henry clutched his shoulder and ushered him towards the door.

"Merde! You'll treat him wit' kid gloves after all he done." He wheeled around and looked at Logan. "You kill him, homme, if he tries anyt'ing. Oui?"

Logan nodded. "Sure kid. I'll keep an eye on him."

Gambit nodded and was out the door without a look back.

The circulation had returned to my limbs and I painfully pushed myself up into a sitting position. "What happened, Hank?" I asked. But he put a hand up waving me to silence and listened into his headset. He nodded and looked back at me.

"The palace is secured. They've found Lorna, Jean and Alex and have freed the slaves."

I took a deep breath, my mind going into a whirl with tactics, analyzing the situation, considering all the alternatives to an all out war. But there were only two goals to accomplish: free the mutant slaves and return them to Earth. Again I felt amazed at how quickly I was turning back into Cyclops, leader of the X-men.

"We need to take control of the city. There are a good many mutant slaves from Earth here. They ought to be recognizable by their inhibitor collars." Hank nodded again and began relaying orders into the headset. I went back over all the information I had gathered during my time here. When Hank had finished speaking to Storm and Rogue, the official field leaders at this time, I said, "I need one of the flyers to find Councilor Constantine. I'm fairly certain he'll be an ally. One of the guards ought to be able to give you the location of his estate."

"I'll take care of it," Logan said, heading toward the door. I heard him say, "Banshee," as he headed out of the room.

"We don't have much time," I said to Henry. "I'm not sure how many mutant slaves there are in this country." Hank's eyes widened at this remark. "We need to get them away from their...owners before they're hidden or killed. I've no doubt most of the owners are not going to let them go without a fight."

"What is this place?" Hank asked in astonishment.

"Oddly enough, a twisted place of reverence for mutants," I replied. "I'll explain it all later." I pushed up, trying to get to my feet, but my limbs were still partly numb. Henry bent to help me and I smiled weakly.

"Very strange, indeed," he commented, but said nothing more.

"What happened to Gambit?" I asked as he helped me to my feet.

"He's been enjoying Sinister's hospitality for five years now." Hank replied simply.

"Shit!" I said, realizing that my situation, while bad, probably didn't compare to Remy being held prisoner by that madman. "No wonder he's out to kill."

"Yes," Hank continued. "I think I would have felt the same way. Apparently Sinister had created this clone." He pointed at the doppleganger. "He then had Gambit captured. He used him to imprint his memories on the clone, making him a very close copy, but a more powerful one. Remy isn't sure how powerful he is, but he does know this clone has better control over his powers. And I think Sinister's plan to use the new clone for his own purposes backfired, because the clone began to have ideas of his own. Having Remy's memories gave him autonomy and a hunger for freedom. He escaped Sinister's care, leaving Gambit to take his place. I'm fairly certain Sinister knew Gambit was the real thing. But I doubt he cared much. In fact I'm certain he was angry enough about his loss to take it out on Remy. Remy was in bad shape when he got back to us a few months ago."

"Wait a minute," I said, a thought occurring to me. "I thought the Neo took out Sinister. That's what I read in the files."

"We'll need to update those files then," Hank replied in all seriousness. "But you should know how hard it is to kill that devil. The Neo probably took out half a dozen Sinister clones, never even coming close to the real thing." I nodded in agreement.

I was able to stand on my own, shrugging into my former master's coat, when Jean, Lorna and Alex arrived.

"Scott!" Jean shouted and ran toward me. Knowing she was going to throw herself into my arms I turned quickly to catch her on my hip.

"Easy," I said. She backed off, giving me a puzzled look. "It's okay," I assured her. "Just a problem I need to take care of in private."

Her eyes widened in horror. "That..." she hissed. I nodded.

"Oh Scott, what happened?"

"We'll talk about it later. Right now there are a lot of things that need to be taken care of." I looked over at Alex. He had a tentative arm around Lorna's waist, but his eyes were locked on our still unconscious would be master. He looked up suddenly, as if sensing my gaze, and flushed slightly in embarrassment. I felt Jean bristle beside me. I turned my eyes on her and saw anger.

"Jean," I said, putting all my need into my voice, "take Alex and Lorna back to the mansion."

Her eyes sparked with the anger she held in them. "Scott..."

"Please," I cut her off. "I need you to do this for me."

"You need me here," she replied matter-of-factly.

"No. I can take care of this." I glanced over at Remy. "I can take care of him. I need you to take care of Alex and Lorna for me."

I could see it was going to be difficult to persuade her. "He still loves him," she hissed. "I saw it in his thoughts."

I closed my eyes. "You haven't read his mind, have you?"

She shook her head after a moment. "He was projecting."

"Then you haven't gone deep enough. You don't know the whole story," I said.

"I think I know enough. Lorna's told me plenty," she snapped.

I sighed. "Please. Lorna doesn't know as much as she might think. Please. Take them home. Don't read Alex's mind. Let me try to explain it to you when I get back. I promise I'll tell you everything."

Jean echoed my sigh. "Alright. But I'm not going to try to stop him if he leaves."

"Fair enough," I said. "Just do me one other favor." Jean rolled her eyes, but then nodded. "Tell Xavier to leave him alone. Don't let him mind wipe him. Even if he asks for it. Not until I get back at least."

She narrowed her eyes at me, pursing her lips. "Xavier's not at the mansion." I looked at her in surprise and she said, "when you disappeared, and we couldn't find any trace of you on Earth, he contacted Corsair. Since both you and Alex were missing, he thought perhaps one of Corsair's enemies had decided to come after you both. He's with your father."

I nodded. "Makes sense. Well, I should be home before he gets back. Just watch out for them."

"Fine." She wasn't happy about it, but I knew she'd do it for me. I kissed her gently.

"I'll be home soon."

Without another word she walked over to Lorna and Alex and took Lorna by the hand. Alex took another look at his master and came over to me. "Scott?"

"It's okay, Alex," I said, placing my hand on his shoulder. I wanted to kiss him, but I knew this wouldn't go over well with Jean. Or Lorna. Or possibly Hank for that matter. "Go home. Take care of Lorna. I'll be there soon." I looked into his eyes and saw what I feared most. He was going to run. I shook my head. "Don't Alex. Don't leave before I get back. Wait for me. Please."

He hesitated, uncertain. "I'm not making you choose," I continued. "It's out of your hands now. I just want you to wait until I get back before you leave. You'll need the time to take care of Lorna anyway. She needs you."

He looked very tired and defeated then and I thought he was going to say something about Lorna, but then he hung his head and said, "Okay. I'll wait."

I blew out the breath I didn't know I'd been holding and squeezed his shoulder. He didn't say anything more, just turned and walked toward Jean and Lorna who were standing by the portal, waiting for him. There was a swirl of colors and the three walked into the portal and vanished. I sent up a silent prayer that they'd make it home safely and that Alex would stay until I got home.

Part XLV

It took six hours for the X-men to take control of the city. Storm called to say that when the mutant slaves were set free, most of them had joined in the fight to take over Genosha's capital city. And oddly enough that reverence for mutants I'd mentioned to Hank worked in our favor. Most of the guards gave up without much of a fight. Especially when they had learned that their
Patriarch had been taken hostage.

Councilor Constantine was brought to me within the hour escorted by Banshee and Logan. He didn't seem distressed as he confidently strode toward me. "I knew Lord Lebeau was bringing trouble on himself when he kidnapped you and your brother," he said. "How did they find you?"

I smiled. "You were right when you said we had powerful friends." By that time Hank had explained everything to me. "One of the noblemen did make a play for Johnny Storm. But since he's not a mutant, the inhibitor collar failed." Constantine chuckled. "When the retrieval units retreated through a portal near the Fantastic Four's compound, Reed Richards called Henry." I
gestured to Hank and the councilor bowed to him. "He and Jean, my wife, had made contact with Richards months ago when I'd disappeared. They'd explained the situation, but hadn't been able to come up with a plausible explanation of the portals. But after the attack on Johnny, and then the kidnapping of my wife, they were able to put the clues together. It was only a matter of time
before Richards had the mechanism to open the portals. After all, he was the one to discover the Negative Zone."

"I warned Remy." Constantine looked down at the body of his Patriarch. After the beating he'd received from Gambit, he hadn't regained consciousness. I'd checked him once or twice to make sure he hadn't died, but I wasn't going to press my luck and bring him around. I'd have to decide how to subdue him though, and soon. If he awoke fully cognizant, he'd be dangerous. I'd seen
his power in action. Both the kinetic force *and* his charm power. The X-men had taken him by surprise that first time. I couldn't underestimate him now.

"What will you do with him?" The councilor asked.

"I'm not sure. But he's not the reason I asked you to come here."

"I didn't think so," Constantine responded. "You want the 'earthers' freed."

I nodded. "I'd like to say that we're here to free all the slaves, but that's not my concern right now. I'm hoping your world will come to that decision on its own. And I'm not willing to sacrifice my people on that account. However, I have to look out for the people who have been kidnapped from Earth. Not just the mutants, but the humans who've been taken too." Zaki had immediately
come to mind when palace had been secured and I desperately wanted to find him. But I held off for the moment, waiting for the correct time to bring it up. I didn't want him to be used as a pawn against me.

"I understand," Constantine said. "Let me gather the other councilors. There's a good portion of the council that wants to ban the kidnappings. You'd be surprised."

"Yes, I would," I agreed.

The councilor smiled. "I suppose that doesn't really give you much of a sense of relief."

I smiled back. "No. Not especially. But calling them together isn't going to make much difference. We *are*`going to free the 'earthers'. With or without they're approval. I simply want the guarantee that no more mutants will be taken from Earth. We can start negotiations with them. But right now I want a list of all registered mutants and humans who were kidnapped. Then I want them freed by this evening. Everyone of them."

"That's asking a lot. It's not enough time. Perhaps in a day or so."

"In a day or so some of those 'earthers' could be hidden or dead," I snapped. "You know as well as I do that there are plenty of nobles out there who aren't going to take this lying down. And while they might not outwardly fight us, they'll use whatever means are at their disposal to keep what they think is theirs. I think it'd come down to murder if we aren't quick enough in rescuing them."

I watched Constantine pale, but he couldn't deny the ugly truth of my words, not after having been associated with Escalada and his ilk. "Very well. But I'll need the help of your X-men. I can have the list immediately, once we've found Remy's Minister of Slave Affairs. He resides here in the palace and I'm sure he has a copy on hand here."

"Good." I looked over at Sean then. He, Logan and Henry had stood by listening intently. A sense of amazement that they'd defer to my command went through me. In spite of all that I had gone through -- and I was certain they'd had a good idea of what had gone on here -- they still respected my input. I choked a little at that loyalty. But I still feared what would happen once I got home. Once the whole story had gotten out.

"Banshee," I said, "take the councilor and find this Minister of Slave Affairs. I'm sure the guards will be helpful in finding him."

"Aye," he said. But as he took Constantine's arm and started to lead him out of the room, I stopped him, unable to wait any further.

"There's a Lord Alcie," I said to the councilor. "He has a slave he bought from Remy recently. He'd be called Neil, but his real name is Zaki."

"Yes, I know of him," Constantine responded.

"I want him brought to me. Can you give directions to this Alcie's home?" The councilor nodded.

"Give them to me," Logan spoke up. "I'll find him for ya, Cyke."

My head whipped around and I found myself at a loss of words. But Logan just gave me a knowing smile. "I'll get Rogue or one of the other flyers to get me there fast."

I grinned, feeling a little woozy. Logan seemed to understand everything. All those years I'd misjudged him. "Thanks," I choked out.

Henry placed a supportive hand on my shoulder as I watched Logan and Sean escort the councilor out the door. "Why don't you go take care of yourself, now?" Hank asked. "I've got your uniform if you want to put it on."

I looked over at Remy, my Remy, lying on the floor. Areas around his eyes and nose were beginning to bruise and swell. A patch of dried blood ran from the corner of his mouth. A wave of pity ran through me. He'd been a cruel, selfish bastard, without a doubt. But there'd been moments of tenderness and I'd known he'd loved me, regardless of how obsessive that love had been. I hated seeing him so battered now that it was all over. But now I had to figure out what to do with him. He'd be dangerous once he'd regained consciousness.

"In a moment," I said to Hank. "I need to take care of him."

"Scott!" I looked up as Warren came rushing in. "I knew it!" It was Remy's pleasure slave, Warren. "I knew you'd cause a problem for Remy. He's an idiot."

I smiled. Warren came to a halt in front of me. He was bruised in several places, and was holding his left arm. A long gash ran down the forearm. But he was grinning from ear to ear and dressed in a guard's uniform. "You should see the other guy," he laughed, seeing me looking at the wound. "I helped your friends take over the city, but I wanted to see if you were okay."

My smile broadened. "Thanks, Warren."

"Stephen," he said. "Stephen Brown."

I laughed. "Sorry. Stephen."

Hank coughed delicately and we both looked over at him. "I'll explain later." Then a thought suddenly occurred to me. "Stephen? Do you know how to get to Remy's suite?"

He smirked and said, "Yeah. How could I forget?"

"There's an inhibitor collar in Remy's study. It's across from his desk on one of the shelves. Can you get it for me?"

Stephen looked puzzled, so I said, "I think it's Remy's. I think it's tuned to his mutagenic signature. If I'm right, we'll have a way to keep him from attacking or escaping when he wakes up."

He nodded. "Sure. I'll be back in a few minutes."

After he'd gone, I bent down over Remy and brushed back a few blood matted strands of hair. Gambit had given him quite a severe beating. Henry's first blows hadn't been any kinder. I touched his face gently, feeling for broken bones. But it was all swelling and bruising. Nothing that looked as if it'd be permanent. His shirt was torn in the front where Gambit's burst of kinetic
energy had met flesh and his chest was bruised also. I was fairly certain he had a few cracked ribs. But his breathing was even. He didn't seem to be struggling for a breath.

"Scott?" Hank crouched down next to me. "Will you tell me what went on here? I'd like to help if I can."

I blinked back a few stray tears, wondering how I could feel such sadness at a time like this. I should have been happy to see him so broken, his beautiful face bruised and battered. I should have laughed at his downfall. But all I could remember was his last kind words to me. That I'd been worth the trouble of keeping. That he'd never get tired of me.

"It's a really long story, Hank," I finally said. "Maybe I'll tell you what happened sometime. But not right now."

"I understand," Hank said. Though I knew he didn't really understand.

Remy moaned and I pulled my hand from his face. He coughed up a little blood and moaned again. I didn't have the heart to knock him senseless again, and when Hank reached for him with that intent, I blocked his arm. "I don't think he'll be much trouble right now," I said, a feeling of protectiveness going through me.

"Here you go, Scott," Stephen said, returning with the collar. "Hope it works."

Carefully I lifted Remy's head up and slipped the device around his neck. I was just about to secure it, when he lashed out blindly. "Non!" He opened his red eyes to look at me in horror, the glow fading as I locked the collar in place. He moaned and rolled away from me, pushing up to his knees. I watched with a terrible sense of unease as his fingers scrabbled at the metal frantically, tearing his nails as he tried to get it off. After a moment he slumped back. He was quiet for a long time. I couldn't say anything to him, and Hank and Stephen seemed just as disturbed by his actions as I was. I think even Stephen was feeling what I felt, that perhaps Remy didn't deserve this. I swallowed at the thought and stood up, backing away from my former master.

"So de master becomes de slave again, eh?" Remy said suddenly. Slowly, painfully, he turned to look at me. "What makes you t'ink dis will hol' me, cher?"

I blinked. "It's worth a shot. Better than killing you outright."

He smiled, fresh blood glistening on his lips. "I suppose dat's some consolation. Gambit wanted to kill me, no doubt?"

I snorted. "He came close."

"But you stopped him, cher. I'm touched." Remy's grin grew even broader. He looked like clown from a B horror flick.

"X-men don't kill," I said like a mantra.

"Don' lie to yourself, mon couer. You couldn' watch me die. You know you'll never get me out of your head. No one will ever be as good as me," he boasted. But it wasn't really an exaggeration.

"Hank," I rasped, "get him out of here."

"Scott, Scott," Remy said as Hank moved to lift him to his feet, "not your wife, not Alex, no one. You'll dream of me, mon cher. You'll long for m'touch. In your darkest fantasies you'll wish you were back in my bed wearing dis collar."

"Get him out of here!" I could feel the panic welling up in my throat. "Hank!"

Hank yanked Remy all the way up and began to drag him out the door. "Mon cher, you'll love me forever. No one will ever touch you like I touched you. No one will love you like I love you. Like you needed. Jean won't be enough." He kept his voice quiet, confident. So sure of himself.

"GET HIM OUT!" I roared, shutting my eyes tightly, placing my hands over my ears to shut out his voice. But it lingered in my mind and I knew he was right. No one would ever be enough. No one would ever love me like he did.

Part XLVI

I felt a hand on my shoulder. "He's gone, Scott," Stephen said softly.

I opened my eyes and saw tears in Stephen's. "He's so fucking good, isn't he?"

"Yeah," I whispered.

"I see you've found Remy's collar," Councilor Constantine said from the doorway. Banshee was behind him looking down the hall with curiosity.

"He was a slave?" I asked.

"He was a mystery," the councilor stated. "But, yes, I believe at one time he was a slave. He's the only mutant I've ever known of who was free here in Genosha. What will you do with him now?"

"I don't know. I can't...I won't have him killed. If I did that, I'd have to kill everyone who'd owned mutant slaves in this country." Constantine nodded.

"Let me deal with him," he said. "I can keep him at my estate. Not as a slave, but a...political prisoner. He'll be under house arrest. We'll consider this a coup. My fellow councilors will take control of the country until we can elect another Patriarch."

I looked at Stephen. He shrugged his shoulders. "Not my area of expertise."

Constantine moved toward me and placed a hand on my shoulder. "He'll be taken care of, I can promise you that. He'll be safe from any enemy who might see this as an opportunity to have him murdered. He'll essentially disappear."

"It's your country. Your world. Do what you think is right. I'm not sure if I trust you, but you seem more honorable than most of the councilors I've come across." I paused and looked at him. "I just want the mutant slaves freed and something done about the portals. And no more kidnappings." Constantine nodded and handed me the list of all the registered 'earther' slaves.

I looked at Sean, who'd come up behind the councilor. "Get this to Rogue and Storm. See how many people they can gather to round up all these slaves. They're going home."

He took the list and flew out. Constantine watched him leave and then turned back to me. "He'll be well cared for, I promise."

I gave him a curt nod, not wanting to hear anymore. Suddenly there was indignant shouting in the hallway. "I protest this despicable treatment! I'm a member of the ruling class!"

"Tell it to someone who gives a damn," Logan replied, nonchalantly.

A graying stately man strode into the room and looked about. His eyes flashed in anger. "Constantine!" He shouted when his glance fell on the councilor. "What is the meaning of this? I've been told to free my Neil. I paid a fair price for him, and these...these ruffians tell me I'm to let him go? I think not!"

"Lord Alcie," Constantine spoke calmly, "the city has been taken over by the X-men. All mutant slaves from Earth and all human ones too are to be set free. I seriously doubt we have the manpower or the willingness of the army to fight. You're Neil is from Earth. Therefore he is now free."

"But he's mine!" Alcie said peevishly. "He doesn't want to leave me. I know he doesn't."

I looked toward the door where Zaki stood and almost wept. He stood there quietly next to Logan, his eyes on the floor, looking worn and fragile. I pushed passed Constantine and bolted over to him. But as I reached him I stopped, taking in the sight of him, afraid to overwhelm him. He looked so lost. "Zaki," I murmured.

He looked up and smiled. "Gift of Allah," he said. "I've missed you." Out of the corner of my eye I saw Logan raise an eyebrow, but he said nothing and stepped away. Zaki reached up tentatively and touched my visor. "You have such beautiful eyes. They must have such power in them to be shielded so. I wish..."

I swallowed and gently placed my hands on his arms just below his shoulders. "What, Zaki? What do you wish?" I murmured.

"I wish I had such power. Perhaps I could have saved you from all this." He gestured weakly at the room with his hand.

My tears began to flow freely. "Oh, Zaki, even with all my power I couldn't save you." I pulled him into my arms and held him tightly, ignoring the pain to my cock. "I missed you too." I whispered in his ear and felt him shudder. He clung to me desperately and sobbed on my shoulder for a long time. "It's okay," I said over and over. "You're safe now."

"This is an outrage!" Lord Alcie harped.

"Shut your yap, bub," Logan growled, "or I'll shut it for you."

Alcie sputtered, but eventually shut up.

When Zaki seemed calmer, I pushed him gently up off my shoulder, and stroked his cheek. "You're free Zaki. You can go home."

He smiled sadly. "There is no home for me in Pakistan. I'd be ashamed to show my face. Better that my family thinks I'm dead."

"Then you can come back to Xavier's mansion with me," I told him. "There's room enough for you there. There's a place for you."

He closed his eyes, still smiling softly. "All that power. I'm only human. I wouldn't fit in there."

"Yes, you would," I argued, sounding almost desperate, "We could give you an education. Get you an American citizenship. You could do whatever you choose."

"I cannot," Zaki said, shaking his head. "I cannot go back, Gift of Allah. Please, I've been here too long."

"Scott," I said in defeat. Zaki looked at me puzzled. "My name is Scott."

"Scott," he repeated. "Please. I cannot go back. There's nothing for me there."

I couldn't understand. I wanted to make him see that it'd be okay. That he *could* return. But then I looked in his haunted, hollow eyes and saw the truth. He'd never acclimate. He'd never feel right back on Earth. Hell, I probably wouldn't feel right either when I finally got back there. So I let him go. I dropped my hands from his arms. "Okay. But if you ever change your mind, there is a place in Salem Center for you." He smiled and nodded. Then I frowned. "You're not going back with Lord Alcie, are you? I'll drag you back to the mansion before I allow that."

Constantine approached at that moment. "He's a free man. And he's welcome to stay with me and my family. I'll find him something to do."

For the first time Zaki's eyes lit up. "I would very much appreciate that, Milord."

"Are you sure?" I asked, wanting to be certain he'd be safe, he'd feel comfortable.

"Yes. I know of Lord Constantine. He is fair and kind." Zaki said to me.

I looked over at the councilor. "Thank you."

He bowed slightly. "I'll go make arrangements to have Zaki and Remy taken to my estates." Zaki's eyes widened in shock, but Constantine eased his fears by saying, "I'll have Remy taken out to the country estate in Landover. You'll stay here in the city. You won't have to see him, ever." Zaki sighed in relief.

"Thank you, Milord."

"You'll pay for this, Constantine," Lord Alcie suddenly shouted. "I'll ruin you. Don't think I won't."

I narrowed my eyes. "Logan, will you see Lord Alcie to the door."

"My pleasure, Cyke," Logan answered with a feral smile. He took Alcie's arm roughly. "So you like keepin' slaves, bub? Do you like torturin' them too?" He asked as he led Alcie away. I almost felt sorry for the nobleman. Almost.

I smiled at Zaki. "You're safe now. But if you ever change your mind."

He returned my smile. "I know, Gift...Scott. I know."

I couldn't help it. I didn't care who saw me at that point anyway. I took Zaki's face between my hands and kissed him gently. He opened his mouth with a sigh and I pulled him closer, again ignoring the pain to my groin. I kissed him passionately, longingly. I'd miss him. He'd always have a tender place in my heart. The first man I'd ever wanted without coercion.

Then he was pulling away. "Good-bye Scott," he said and followed Constantine out the door and down the hall and out of my life. I gave a silent prayer that he'd recover fully and hoped that I would see him again someday.

Part XLVII

Hank returned a moment later. "I think it's time you got some rest, Scott. Why don't you go back to the mansion?"

I shook my head. "I want to make sure all the slaves are released. Then we've got to negotiate with the Council on closing those portals. Or at the very least, getting some guarantee that they won't be using them to kidnap anyone from Earth anymore. Although the fact that we can now get back here ought to be somewhat of a deterrent."

"I can handle the proceedings adequately I believe," Hank began to argue. "You've been through hell, and I think you need to take care of yourself. As your doctor..."

I grinned. "Can it, Hank. I'm fine. I do want a shower, and I want to get into my uniform. But I'll be fine. These negotiations shouldn't take that long. Not once I mention the Avengers and the Fantastic Four."

Hank looked annoyed. "Very well. No one ever takes me seriously as their medical doctor anyway. Why should you be any different?"

"Well, maybe if I didn't know about your twinky addiction, I'd take you more seriously." I quipped.

He sniffed. But then he smiled and handed me the duffle bag he still had over his shoulder. "Here's your uniform. I've gotten in touch with Rogue and Storm. Pietro's split off to lead a team, and Banshee took a group himself. I understand most of the army has joined our forces. There wasn't much resistance when they saw the power we wielded. They seemed in awe, Storm informed me. Very strange world you've gotten yourself involved in, Mr. Summers."

"Very strange life, Hank. A very strange life." He laughed and I told him I was going to find a place to shower and change and I'd meet him back here in an hour or so. Then we could supervise the return of the 'earthers' from this room. Stephen spoke up at that moment. I'd forgotten he was there.

"If you don't mind, I think I'll head home," he said.

"Sure," I said. "You know you're welcome at the mansion if you need a place to stay."

"Naw. I think I'll just go give my Mom a heart attack by popping in on her." His grin suddenly faltered. "If she's still there. Fuck. I've been here five years. No telling what's changed."

I clasped him on the shoulder. "It'll be okay. But if you need anything, anything at all, just look us up in Salem Center, New York. Xavier's Institute for Higher Learning. Even if you just want to come for a visit. I'd be glad to have you."

Stephen smiled again. "You bet. I'll keep it in mind." Then he strode over to the portal. "Anyone know how I can get back to Kansas?"

He turned and laughed at our expressions. "Kidding. But I'd like to get as close to Memphis as possible." Henry went over to him and began fiddling with the control panel next to the portal. Without a word, I headed out the door in search of a shower. After wandering through the halls, not really aware of where I was going, I ended up back at Remy's suite. It seemed appropriate
somehow. A closure perhaps. Now I was going to be able to walk out of that room a free man. I removed Remy's coat and draped it over one of the couches, then went into the bathroom.

I set the temperature of the shower to as hot as I could stand it and stepped into the heat to ease my aching muscles. With a hiss I unclasped the penile device and let it drop to the floor of the stall. I came with a painful grunt, and long low moan of relief when it was over. It was the last time I'd ever wear that thing and I felt a moment of pure happiness.

I stood in the rush of hot water for a long, long time doing nothing. Just letting the tension ease from my muscles. I'm not sure when the tears began to fall, but I heard myself sob suddenly and I lost the slim grasp I'd held on my control. Sliding to the floor of the shower stall, I curled into a
tight ball and let it all go, sobbing for dear life. For loss. For anger and fear and hatred and love and coercion. I cried for Alex. I cried for Jean, who'd never really understand and Lorna, who'd never forgive. I cried for dear wounded Zaki. And I cried for myself, for the changes in me that would never be denied, no matter how hard I tried to ignore them. Nothing would ever be the same. And I sobbed broken hearted for the changes I'd never asked for in the first place. I sobbed at the loss of color in my world once again. The return of my hated red visor.

And I cried for Remy. My Remy. No one else would ever be enough.

The water was cold when I'd come back to myself. I shivered, but just let it pour over me, letting it wash away the last of my heartache. This would happen again, I knew. This wasn't the end of my emotional turmoil. It was only the beginning. Time would eventually lessen the pain. But there'd be a long road to travel. I indulged fleetingly in a fantasy of rescuing Remy from his new prison, taking him back to the mansion and teaching him how to truly love, without coercion, without fear or selfishness. Then I shook the image away and tended to washing myself.

I tried to keep my thoughts at bay as I pulled on my uniform. I succeeded, distracted by the stifling feeling of the kevlar suit. I'd been too long without clothing. Like the clothes I'd worn to escape in, it itched in strange places, and was too snug in others. My cock felt choked in the cup I
forced it into. I was tempted to rip the suit off and just wear boxers for the rest of the time I was here. I'd figure something out for later when I had to go back to the mansion. But I took a few deep breaths and tried to relax in the discomfort. And eventually, as I made my way back to the portal room, the stiff uncomfortable sensation from wearing my uniform eased up.

By the time I made it to the portal room, Pietro had returned with his team and a large group of 'earthers'. Henry and Pietro were directing the mutants into groups for the return home. Jubilee, Paige and Jonothan were handling the protesting nobles who'd come to stop the exodus. I entered the fray and for a moment the room grew still.

"Get those people out of this room," I said to the three young X-men. Jubilee gave me a withering look, but she ignited her power and several of the nobles fell back. I strode over to the crowd and stood just to the right of Chamber. "This is nonnegotiable. These mutants you had kidnapped are now free." I spoke with a dark menace in my voice. There'd be no discussion of this matter. "You had no right to steal them from their homes and families. You have no right to them. I suggest you leave now before I throw you out."

There was a roar of protest and I lifted my hand to my visor, letting go just a hint of my power in the midst of the irate group. Several of them gave up without looking back. The others took a moment to weigh their options and then left without another protest.

"We coulda handled it, Cyke," Jubilee snapped with her usual charming demeanor.

I gave her a genuine smile of pleasure. "I'm sure you could have, Jubilation." I knew she hated to be called that. "I just needed a little bit of fun."

"Whatever," she smirked and then blew a large bubble with her gum, letting it burst with another smirk. She hadn't matured a great deal in the time I'd known her. But much of her manner was simply an act to hide her nervousness in the midst of conflict. Her powers had grown impressively as had her control, but she was only just now shedding the anxious young girl she'd
been, the one who'd lost her parents all those years ago. I smiled mischievously at her. We had a lot in common, but had never had an opportunity to get close. She still saw me as an uptight adult, unhip and way too goody-goody for her tastes. I was pretty sure she took her cue from Logan. He was the only one who ever really made an impact on her. The only one she never made derogatory comments about. In fact she defended him with a fierceness I could envy.

Paige smiled back at me shyly and it was nice to know I still had some leverage with the younger X-men. Jonothan couldn't smile but he gave a half-joking salute. "Guess we'll go help the other blokes round up the next wave," I heard him say in my head. I nodded and turned back to where Hank and Pietro were organizing the freed slaves.

Part XLVIII

Sending the mutants home was slow going until Hank got a handle on the portal control panel. The retrieval units and those responsible for the portals refused to help. Their job security was at risk and short of telepathy or torture there was little we could to do force them to help. I did try to find one of the mutant slaves with telepathic ability. But the ones I did find had precious little control over their ability. Or their power was too weak to be of any help.

So Hank took over figuring exactly how to work the controls. He of course appreciated the challenge. But to be perfectly honest we weren't absolutely certain that the rescued 'earthers' made it to their destinations. We asked all of them to call the mansion once they returned home. And I received word from Bobby that a good many of them had called to say they'd made it when I sent him back to check on Jean, Lorna and Alex.

All in all there were a little over five hundred kidnapped mutants and only fifty-seven humans found in Genosha and sent home over the next two days. We had a few casualties. Several 'earthers' were killed before we could get to them. My teammates moved fast, but not fast enough. And a few of the mutants had vanished, hidden away by their masters. A few chose to stay of their own free will, either to remain in the care of their former masters or to be promised a position in Genosha's government. I had no illusions that those staying with their masters would be anything but slaves. However, it was their own decision and I wouldn't make it for them. I turned a blind eye to anything but the most blatant signs of coercion. Constantine took to overseeing the future of those who wanted to remain free in Genosha in the same way he had seen to Zaki. My admiration for him grew in the little time I spent with him.

The most difficult mutants to free were the ones who'd been given over to visiting kings and diplomats. Genosha had the only portals and the technology of the inhibitor collars, and therefore had been able to corner the market on mutant slaves. Very few of the 'earthers' had been sold outside Genosha's borders. But those that had been given as gifts and those few that *had* been
sold caused an uproar on the international stage. Formal protests were lodged. One or two threats of war were issued, especially when it became known that the sitting Patriarch of Genosha had disappeared. But since kidnapped mutants were mostly a rich man's novelty, there wasn't much
sympathy for those few who owned one and the protests died out within a matter of days. Most of the mutant slaves in other countries were rescued by the X-men with ease once their location had been pinned down. Unfortunately the highest percentage of casualties came from this group, due to the fact that the owners had more time to prepare for the X-men's arrival.

One other problem that arose were the children born to 'earthers'. A good number of the mothers who'd birthed these children wanted them to come home to Earth. And the children who were being raised as slaves were set free. Those being raised by their fathers, often the master of the slave that had given birth, were given a choice if they were old enough, either to return to Earth or remain in Genosha. If they weren't old enough to decide they were more often than not returned to their mother. Each situation was dealt with individually. We tried to base it on what was best for the child. I'm sure we made mistakes. We did our best, but the inevitable resentment arose against us for meddling in the affairs of Genosha.

On my second day of freedom I entered the Council Chamber with Constantine to make my demands on behalf of the mutants of Earth. The kidnappings would stop, the retrieval units disbanded, the makers of inhibitor collars would close up shop and the portals would be destroyed. My demands were nonnegotiable and backed by force; that of the X-men with the aid of the Avengers and the Fantastic Four if necessary.

Of course a good many of the Councilors protested. Not only the demands I made, but also the loss of their slaves. I stood quietly by while they blustered and fumed, and eventually their ranting died out. Most of them realized there wasn't much they could do. While a great deal of their technology was advanced, their war machines couldn't match the raw power we wielded. And the Council didn't have the support of the armed forces in this matter. After all, only the noble class could afford to buy and keep mutant pleasure slaves. It was obvious the lower classes wouldn't tolerate going to war over rich men's toys. It'd more than likely cause a civil war and Genosha was in enough turmoil with the coup d'etat Constantine and his peers had arranged.

Within a few hours the Council acceded to all my demands. Except for one. Not all the portals would be destroyed. Two would be left functioning. The one in Remy's palace and the one within the walls of the capital city. They would only be used for emergencies and kept under tight security. By the third day of my freedom, all the portals except the two that had been agreed upon were destroyed, buried under slag. The X-men helped facilitate their destruction in order to make certain the demand was carried out.

As for the former Patriarch of Genosha? Rumors flew through the country and the world as fast as lightening. Most thought Remy had been executed by us. Some believed we had taken him back to Earth to stand trial for the kidnappings. A small group of Genoshans spread the rumor that he'd been forced to abdicate and was now living in retirement on one of his country estates.

Constantine was as good as his word. No one suspected the truth. Remy appeared to be safe under the Councilor's care. In the last few days I spent in Genosha overseeing the exodus of the former slaves and the shutdown of the portals, Constantine kept me updated on Remy's status. His facial wounds were healing along with the ribs that had been cracked. Physically he was
recovering. But he rarely spoke and wouldn't eat unless Constantine personally ordered him to. I tried hard not to feel anything when his name was mentioned and outwardly I gave no sign that I cared. Constantine seemed to think I needed to hear about my former master and I did want to know. But I also wanted to deny any concern I felt toward Remy to those around me and ultimately to myself. So I listened without expression, only nodding a little to acknowledge that I'd heard.

Inside I was in turmoil. I hoped Remy wouldn't commit slow suicide. I prayed Constantine could ease him out of this obvious depression. I wanted to go to him and beg him to live. I wanted him to live. Not to pay for what he'd done to me and Alex, but because he was my Remy and I simply couldn't bear the idea that he might die. But I kept these feelings tucked inside, almost hidden to myself, and hoped that in time I wouldn't care so much whether he lived or died.

On the day I went home, bone weary from having been up for almost 72 hours straight, able to only catch an hour or so of sleep here and there, all I wanted was to sleep for the next two days. My body still ached from the position I'd been cuffed in and I needed to recover from the ordeal. But I also needed to check on Alex.

I could feel that something was wrong the minute I set foot on the mansion grounds. Jean was waiting for me when I returned and for a moment every alarm went off in me. I was positive Alex had left.

Trying to stay calm, I gave her a weak smile and a chaste kiss. But she knew what I was thinking even without her telepathy.

"Lorna's gone," she said simply. "She went back to Magneto. Pietro took her when he came back through the portal. I think that was his whole point to getting involved."

"At least he stayed to help," I offered. "That's more than I could have hoped for."

Jean smiled a little at that, then said, "Alex is down by the lake. He's been going down there every day and staying until it gets dark. He looks bad, Scott." Jean's voice dropped. "I think he would have left already if you hadn't made him promise to wait."

I didn't bother asking how she knew I'd extracted that promise from him when she'd been standing across the room. Instead I asked, "What happened?"

As always, Jean understood me. "Lorna wouldn't talk to him. Except to call him a coward or a fag. That's when he started going down to the lake. I think he just wanted to stay out of her way."

I dropped my head and sighed. "He tried so hard to protect her," I said quietly. There was no point in getting angry at Lorna. She saw only what she'd been allowed to see. And had come up with her own conclusions.

"I know, Scott."

"You do?" I asked warily.

"He was projecting. I couldn't shut it all out. Not completely. Not with the emotions that were involved." I nodded in understanding and she continued, "He loved her. He really does love her. And I saw how often he tried to escape. Tried to find some way of getting out of there." Jean frowned. "That clone had that place locked up tight. I don't think Ororo or Remy on their best days could have escaped. Alex never had a chance." She reached up to gently place a hand on my shoulder. "Neither did you. Lorna just wouldn't believe him."

I took her hand and kissed it tenderly. Then I pulled her into my arms and held her with a desperation I couldn't rid myself of.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Shhh...You've no need to be sorry," she whispered back. "You didn't do anything wrong. And if you never want to tell me what happened I'll understand."

I shook my head. "I have to explain, to set everything straight. At least to you." I took her face in my hands so I could look into her eyes when I said, "So you'll understand why I can't let Alex go."

So many emotions played across her face in the short time before she spoke again. Anger, frustration, resentment, betrayal, astonishment, even lust and finally, trust and resignation. "Do whatever you have to do, Scott. I'll try to understand."

I kissed her passionately then with a hunger I'd been afraid I'd lost. "I love you, Jean," I said when I broke the kiss. I heard her answer in kind as I left to find my brother.

He was out by the lake as Jean had said, just standing there with his hands in the pockets of one of my old leather jackets staring out over the water. "Alex," I said as I approached him.

He turned his head to the left, acknowledging my presence, then he went back to looking out at the lake. "Lorna's gone," he said quietly with little emotion. I sighed inwardly at the tone of his voice.

"I know. Jean told me. She said Lorna wasn't too kind before she left."

Alex nodded but said nothing more.

"She didn't understand." I wasn't sure what to say to his silence. But I tried to give some comfort, some assurance anyway. "I don't think she realized what you had to do just to keep her safe." I moved beside him then and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Alex," I said, hearing a little of the
desperation I felt come out in my voice, unable to disguise it.

He shook his head. "She knew enough. She called me a coward. I think she blamed me. Especially at the end. She said Magneto would have escaped."

"Shit!" I couldn't help the curse. "She's wrong. You know she's wrong."

"Maybe." He shrugged. "I don't think it makes me less of a coward."

I could have lit into him then. I could feel my frustration grow. But then he looked at me and said, "Is he okay?" And I felt all the anger go out of me. My brother wasn't a coward. Not if he could ask about Remy, knowing it might set me off.

"Yeah. Constantine took him to his estate. He'll look after him."

Alex nodded again. "Good. I was afraid you might kill him. Or let Gambit kill him." We said nothing for a moment and then he added, "I don't want him to die."

I smiled. "Oddly enough, neither do I."

"He had his moments." I could hear Alex's throat tighten. "He was easy to love at times."

"Yeah," I answered a little breathlessly.

Alex shrugged. "I think I'll head up to Alaska. You know. To clear my head."

"No!" I barked, too loud, too needy. But I didn't care. "Don't go. Please, Alex, stay. At least for a little while. I...I need you."

He frowned. "You've got Jean."

"She's not enough. She can't understand as well as you. I think we need to get through this together." I waved my hand awkwardly. "I don't think I can face them alone."

"They understand. They've been...kind about it all. Even Logan." He paused shaking his head. "Especially Logan. He's come down here a few times. He just stands here for a long time saying nothing. But today he suggested another trip to Mexico." Alex smiled a little and I felt a pang of jealousy. But I kept quiet. "I almost took him up on it. We had a pretty decent time the last time we went down there. At least before we were attacked." His face dropped and he said softly, "Before I was kidnapped..."

"You never said anything about that before," I pointed out.

He swallowed as if the memory was suddenly painful. "It was back when we were living in Australia. There isn't much to tell." Of course he was understating the pain he was feeling at the memory. I didn't need to be a telepath to see that.

I was quiet for a time, taking it all in. My jealousy, the fact that we hardly knew each other, that he wouldn't talk to me about something so painful as that memory, that he'd go off to Mexico with Logan instead of me. But he hadn't. He'd stayed until I came back. Now I had to persuade him to stay for good.

Carefully I turned him around to face me. When he looked at me, his mouth quirked up in a sad smile and he reached his hand up to brush the front of my visor with his fingers. "Good ole Cyclops. I don't think I could pick up where we left off. I think it's better if I go."

I knew what he meant so I grabbed his fingers and shook my head. "I'm not asking you to. It'd be too...awkward. But you're my brother and I love you and want...I need to be sure you're okay. We've both been through hell." He started to speak but I waved him to silence with my free hand. "We've both been through hell. And you're right. I have Jean. But who do you have?"

Alex gulped in a rapid choked breath and his eyes flashed in anger.

"Lorna's gone," I continued quickly, trying to forestall his anger. "Sounds like she wouldn't have been there for you in any case. But I want to be there. Like I never was before. Not after Inferno and Maddie's death. Not after you came back from the dead. Not even after the plane crash."

His face softened and he swallowed as his eyes began to mist.

"I just want to be there one time in your life. I want to believe that you need your big brother."

We looked at each other for a long time, neither of us certain what else to say. Then Alex moved in close to kiss me. It was a gentle, sweet chaste kiss. The first kiss between lovers. A kiss that held promises, but no guarantees. A kiss that didn't depend on arousal or desperation, but just signified two people sharing a common thread.

"You'll stay?" I murmured, ending the kiss.

Alex nodded. "For now."

I smiled. "That's fine. As long as you want." But inside I was saying, "Forever. You'll stay forever."

"I'm gonna go get some sleep," I said after another few minutes of silence. *Care to join me,* I wanted to add, but knowing what a mess it would make if I did say it. Instead I added, "All your stuff is in storage. After you disappeared I had Forge send it here."

Alex's face lit up and I felt a sudden moment of joy. I'd said something that had made Alex happy. I hoped I'd be able to do that often in the future. "Thanks," he said.

I patted his shoulder and with nothing more to say at the moment, and starting to really drag from the last several days, I headed back up to the mansion.

Part IL

I was thankful not to meet anyone as I made my way to the room I shared with Jean. I made a mental note to settle Alex in the boat house tomorrow. It hadn't been in use at the time I'd been kidnapped. Jean and I had decided to stay up at the mansion for the time being, to be closer to the team, since the team had become smaller in the last few years. I thought my brother might be more comfortable with more privacy. I refused to give thought to the privacy it might provide the both of us. Tried hard not to consider my ulterior motives for giving him more privacy. I buried those thoughts deep as I stripped and fell into the bed.

But my dreams wouldn't let me bury those forbidding thoughts. I had him in my mouth, in my arms and in my body and the images swirled around until Alex was Remy and Remy was Alex and I was a part of them both. It was haunting and beautiful and tragic and I awoke with the thought that I had to keep Alex with me. For better or worse, I couldn't let him go. I wanted him too much. Needed just to be able to see him every day. But that was a lie. I needed much more than the sight of him.

I groaned and turned over in the darkened room. It was late at night. Jean was asleep beside me. But she opened her eyes when I rolled over and pulled me into her arms. We made love. It was a quiet and peaceful lovemaking. I felt tears on my face at the end and Jean kissed them away. I had missed her. And there was a part of me that was desperately glad I still found her attractive. I'd been afraid that perhaps I wouldn't feel the arousal I'd once had for her and afraid that this would make me feel less than a man. But I couldn't for the life of me drive away the thoughts of what Remy had let me experience.

"You're thinking about him?" Jean said quietly. There was no judgment in her tone. No anger or jealousy. I sighed and turned onto my back.

"I was thinking how much I should tell you. I can't lie and tell you it was all torture." I looked over at her a little tentatively. But she only smiled and took my hand.

"It's all right," she murmured. "Tell me whatever you feel comfortable with. You don't have to tell me anything. I have some idea of what went on."

I shook my head. "I want you to know." I paused in thought and then said, "Everything. No secrets. Nothing hidden. I want you to understand how I felt." I turned on my side and cupped her cheek. "I love you, Jean. But I'm different now. Even more so than after Apocalypse. And God knows how hard it was for you then."

"You too..." she started, but I shook my head to silence her.

"There are things that have happened that I'd never have dreamed of doing. Never. Things, that even if I had done, I never would have believed I would have enjoyed." I couldn't bring myself just then to say it. To say that I'd found pleasure in Remy's touches, found ecstasy in his bed and in the way he made me feel. "I want you to be able to understand why I might act out of character. Why I can't spend the rest of my life burying these feelings, this incident. I would have fallen for him. I was so close. You have no idea how much I wanted to give in..." My voice choked on the words.

"Shhh..." Jean whispered. "It's okay. I know how powerful he is. How seductive. And I only spent a few days under his control." She bit her bottom lip thoughtfully for a moment. Then she said, "Show me, Scott. Open your mind to me. I want to see it and understand."

I nodded and she touched my mind with her telepathy. I could feel her thoughts slipping through the jumble of images until she found what she was looking for. That first night when I was taken from her, stripped, cuffed and collared. She watched through my eyes as Alex demonstrated his 'love' for Remy by sucking his cock. She gasped when Remy clamped the device around my own cock.

The images came faster and faster. The training, the stocks, my brother fucking my vulnerable mouth. She watched in horror as I was desensitized to men fucking other men. I felt her controlled jealousy towards Zaki, the one man I might have give myself to freely. I felt her anger toward Alex as he left me hungry that week, only allowed to be nourished by his seminal fluid.

And then that first night alone with Remy. The astonishing sensations I was forced to experience. Remy's empathy as well as his skill as a lover. I felt Jean try to hide the lust that was growing inside her as she watched me lose my virginity. Then she gave up. No secrets between us anymore. She was turned on.

But then she sobbed as I relived the memory of the whipping I'd received and she cursed Remy in my mind. And she cursed me for feeling as though I deserved it. I clung to her physical body asking forgiveness. And she gave it willingly because I needed it. Not because she felt there was anything to forgive.

I showed Jean everything that night. Every detail. Every fear, every thought, every aroused moment. And she watched it all, never turning away. I loved her courage. I couldn't imagine there were many people who'd be willing to sit through all the dirty painful memories of my ordeal. Especially a telepath of Jean's caliber who must have also felt all of it.

But she was human. And when she saw the last few moments I spent with Remy she broke down. "You did that for me. You would have obeyed him just to keep me safe." There was bitterness in her tone. "Damn him!" She snarled and sat up. "And damn you for making those promises!"

I flinched at her anger. "What was I supposed to do?" I asked bewildered. "What could I have honestly done? He wasn't about to kill me *or* let you go. Do you think I could have watched him rape you? Or have you whipped?"

Jean put her head in her hands. "I don't know. Oh God..." she choked out. "You would have loved him."

Sitting up I took her into my arms and let her cry. I cried a little myself. "Jean, it's over," I whispered into her hair. "We can't think about what might have happened. It didn't. Maybe...probably I would have fallen for him. But it's over now and I don't want to worry about what might have happened."

She nodded on my shoulder and then lifted her face to kiss me. She let go of herself then, drawing the breath out of me with her passion. Jean took me then with an aggression I'd never seen in her before. Her movements were wild, intoxicating. Her thoughts full of erotic images, images of me and Alex. I was shocked to realize how much of a turn on those images were to my
wife. And a little bit jealous that she found my brother so attractive.

But the sex was better than I'd ever experienced with Jean. Remy had been correct when he had called me vanilla. Jean was all I'd ever wanted. More than I ever believed I deserved. And yet Remy had made me see how attractive I was to other people. And I imagine that gave me confidence to meet Jean's passion touch for touch.

Our lovemaking then became wild and desperate. Close to the point of violence, bordering on the need to draw blood, to hurt each other physically. But it was also intimate and personal. Our thoughts ran along the same paths. Open and vulnerable. And it was nasty and so sexy. Jean said things to me I never would have believed would have come out of her mouth if I hadn't heard them first hand, snarled in my ear.

"I want to fuck you, Scott," she said between gritted teeth. "I'd like to tie you to our bed and ride you over and over." And then she smiled wickedly, so incredibly seductively that I nearly came right then and there. "I'd like to do that while you sucked Alex's cock."

I groaned and threw her off of me and back onto the bed. Then I began to thrust into her hard and fast. Her words drove me insane. "Fuck me, Scott! I'll make you forget him. I'll show you what *I* can do. What I've been afraid to show you."

And she did show me. All her dark, dirty fantasies. We battled for control then, mentally and physically. And in the end we were closer than we'd ever been. We'd seen each other's darker side and yet we loved each other still.

What I was certain would drive Jean and I apart actually drew us closer together. And I found to my relief, once we'd been sated and were holding each other tightly, drifting in the afterglow, that Jean now wanted Alex to stay as much as I did. After the passion I'd experienced with Jean I didn't feel jealous toward Alex any longer because of my wife's attraction to him. He needed me. And he would now have her support too.

So Alex stayed. Whether or not we invited him into our bed and whether or not he'd accept remained to be seen. But Jean never begrudged the time I spent with Alex. Nor the intimacy we shared just on the edge of sex. Sometimes at night she would even send me out to the boat house to soothe Alex when she felt him in the throes of a nightmare. I let her into my mind whenever this happened. Perhaps it was a sick kind of voyeurism. But it felt wonderful to have her there, giving advice, sympathy and understanding.

If Alex ever noticed, he didn't say. But as the weeks went by he seemed happier. Less quiet. Jean drew him out when he tried to escape into his solitude. I kept him company in that solitude.

Things returned to normal. Or as normal as it could be for the X-men. As normal as it could be once the others began to have some idea of what Alex and I had gone through. Nathan stayed for a week after I'd returned and we talked about all that had happened. I let him into a few of my thoughts. And like Jean he didn't judge me for the changes that had been brought about or my newfound intimacy with my brother. But too soon he was needed in New York. We promised to keep in touch as we always did, but we both knew how difficult that would be. I missed him when he left. And like all fathers feared for his safety, even though he was older than me.

Xavier was contacted. And even across the light years I could feel his relief and love. He would be coming home soon, he promised, but wanted to spend some time with Lilandra. I told him to take as much time as he wanted. I wasn't eager to let him know all that had happened. And I knew he'd want me to tell him everything. To understand it like a father and offer comfort where he could. He'd never probe my mind without my say so. But he'd see the signs of intimacy between Alex and me much easier than the rest of the X-men and I wasn't sure that he'd approve.

It was much harder to talk to Corsair, to my real father. I had to fend off his questions with vague answers and eventually he realized I wasn't going to say much about what had happened, so he dropped the matter.

"I'm glad you're safe, Scott," he said at the end. "And Alex too. I'll see you both when I bring Xavier home."

Inwardly I cringed. Not for me so much as for Alex. He hadn't wanted to speak to Corsair. Not this soon. I'd made some excuse for him when I'd gotten in touch with Corsair and Xavier. I'm fairly certain my father knew it was an excuse. And now I was being vague. So out of some ingrained familial feeling of obligation he was going to put in an appearance and personally make
certain his sons were okay. I had to wonder how he'd feel when he found out his sons, having spent the better part of the year as naked collared pleasure slaves, still engaged in an intimacy that would outrage most of the world. I was cynical to say the least.

But I was thankful for his concern. We'd grown closer since I'd returned from the dead all those years ago, reemerging from underneath Apocalypse's control. And I knew now that he was concerned. Genuinely concerned. I don't think Alex understood this quite so well. Corsair hadn't been able to get back to Earth when Alex had returned from the dead, and while they'd had a
chance to talk to each other through Sh'iar technology, I think Alex resented his absence. There was an unspoken tension. 'You could come home for Scott, but not me.' But to give Alex credit, he did understand that Corsair was in the middle of a decisive battle with rebel Sh'iar and would come as soon as he was able, providing he didn't get killed. Unfortunately, one battle led to another and another and then time just slipped away with my father unable, unwilling, or forgetting that he had a son who still wanted to see him.

Well, now he was coming and I could see the sparks that would fly between the two. Corsair could always make time for his eldest son. Alex having been kidnapped was only incidental. Even Xavier hadn't gone in search of Alex until I came up missing too. And truth be told, I shared some of this guilt. I'd only made cursory attempts to find Alex. Xavier had used Cerebro to try and locate him. But we'd both maintained that cavalier attitude that he'd just turn up again.

Alex never mentioned any of this. All these thoughts came to me out of my own fears. I knew some of it would be true. But Alex was no longer my hot-tempered brother. And what I really began to fear as the days passed were the sparks that *wouldn't* fly when my father came home with Xavier. Alex might simply avoid my father and his questions. And that seemed more dangerous to me than him showing Corsair resentment at his neglect. My brother was quiet now. Sometimes too quiet. And sometimes even Jean and I couldn't draw him out. It wasn't necessarily depression. It was a stoicism. As if he were just putting up with life. Putting it on hold. Waiting for something to happen.

Even Logan mentioned the change. He'd started going up to the boat house almost as often as I did, usually carrying a six pack. I have to admit I was worried, in a jealous way. From my jaded perspective I began to question most men's sexual orientation. Logan came under my scrutiny often enough and I worried that perhaps he and Alex might have become lovers. There was no proof. But the feeling stayed with me until I finally accepted that Alex might want more than me. That he might turn to someone else for comfort, just as I had Jean.

But Logan put my fears to rest not long after I'd returned from Genosha. He was waiting for me outside the Danger Room one evening. He'd just come from the boat house.

"Your brother's quiet, Cyke," he said without preamble. "Not the Havok we use to know."

I said nothing at first, just headed to the locker room and began to strip out of my uniform. Logan followed me and stood by without a word.

"He's been through a lot," I finally offered.

Logan snorted. "No kidding." Then he grew sober. "But he's been through a lot before and still managed to keep that temper of his. Now I can't even get much of a rise out of him."

I turned and looked at Logan wishing not for the first time I wasn't wearing my protective visor. Then he could see the seriousness, the silent warning I was giving him. "This is different."

"How?" Logan pressed. "How's it any different from any other time he's been kidnapped and tortured?"

"Because he's never been raped before," I snapped. "You want to help Alex? Then leave it alone. If he wants to talk, he'll talk."

Logan had stepped back a bit with his eyes a little more open when I'd mentioned rape. He knew what had gone on, at least vaguely understood how Remy had used us. But I had ever been so direct with him about what had happened. And apparently Alex hadn't either. Now he was nodding. "So it's true?"

"What did you think?" I asked, narrowing my eyes, sarcasm lacing my voice. "You think Gambit's clone needed any information about the X-men? He was already imprinted with most of Gambit's memories. He had all the information he needed. He just wanted Alex and me around to fuck or watch us fuck each other. He wanted the matching set." I changed my tone trying to imitate Remy's, the first day I was on my knees in front him. "You can' eat just one, non?"

Logan's eyes widened and he shook his head. "Jesus!"

"Yeah. Kind of puts things in perspective, doesn't it? Alex had to control that temper of his to protect Lorna. If Remy taught him one thing, it was control." I knew Logan was only trying to help, but his prying had set me on edge, making me defensive even though I'd felt some satisfaction knowing that Alex hadn't been confiding in him. But it was that defensiveness that led me to add, "And how to give great head."

"Christ, Scott!" Logan snarled. "He's your brother for Christ's sake!"

I felt the anger and defensiveness rush out of me. "Just leave it alone, Logan. I know you're trying to help and I appreciate it. But this kind of shit takes more to get over than a six pack and conversation. If Alex wants to talk about it, he will." I turned away for a moment to grab a towel from my locker when I realized suddenly that I had been standing naked in front of Logan for the last five minutes without even being aware. Quickly I wrapped the towel around my waist with a sigh. Then I turned back to Logan. His fists were balled up and I could see a tight muscle twitching in his jaw. Carefully I placed a hand on his shoulder.

"He needs you just to be there. To accept the changes that have been forced on him. I know he's grateful for it." Alex had mentioned Logan's attentiveness often enough to rouse a good deal of jealousy in me. I'd tried to feel Alex out at those times to find out if he and Logan were lovers. But he'd skillfully avoided giving anything away. Now I was sure that they weren't. Logan wouldn't have sought me out if they'd become intimate. He'd have been more direct with Alex. And now I felt I could afford to be kind.

"And *I'm* grateful to you for it. That you don't judge him. That you're concerned. I never realized how much you cared about my brother."

Logan's eyes shifted nervously and he began to look a little embarrassed. "Yeah, well, we had a history and all. He's a good kid." Suddenly I didn't feel so sure of Logan and Alex. I was so close to asking him what that history entailed. So close to asking him if they had been or were now lovers. But it wouldn't have been fair to either of them. If they wanted me to know they would have told me. So I patted Logan's shoulder and walked into the shower stall, thankful that he didn't follow me.

And Gambit? I rarely saw him, for which I was relieved. Actually I should say I pretty much avoided him. But I thought I about him often enough. I was curious about the time he spent in Sinister's lab. Between Alex, him and me, I'm sure Gambit had the most painful time. I couldn't imagine what it must have been like. No doubt Sinister took a great deal of pleasure subjecting
him to one experiment after another. He was as fascinated with Gambit as he had been with me at one time. He'd used him to begin the Morlock Massacre, and who knew but Gambit what else he'd roped him into.

But I couldn't ask Gambit about his ordeal. I could barely call him Remy when I did see him. I don't think he would have told me anyway. So we avoided each other. I'd see him in Danger Room practices and mission debriefings. We worked missions together. I'd give him orders that he never questioned. But that was the extent of our conversations. I gave orders, he made some snappy comment. We'd discuss missions and their outcomes. But always in a group setting. Always with other X-men around. At down times I only saw him once in a while at dinner or occasionally in the rec room playing pool with one of the others. I think he spent most of his time with Rogue when he was at the mansion. I never asked.

But one night, about two weeks after I'd returned, I was sitting in the rec room half watching an old movie. Jean and Ororo had gone into New York City for the day. They'd just called to say they'd be home late after deciding to try out one of the hip new restaurants. Most of the others had gone out also. Alex had waved off any offers to go out. He was in one of his really somber
moods and just wanted to be left alone. I agreed, but every so often I'd go down to the boat house to check on him, or call him from the mansion. He never failed to pick up the phone and say, "I'm fine, Scott. No bad thoughts." Henry was of course down in the lab. So I thought I was basically on my own in the upper part of the house when Gambit sauntered in.

The moment I saw him I pulled myself out of my slumped position on the couch and felt my body tense into battle readiness. But when he dropped gracefully into one of the easy chairs a twinge of guilt went through me. I didn't trust him not to start something. I'd never really trusted him.

"Watchu watchin', Scott?" He asked, not a hint of unease in his voice.

I cleared my throat, choking back my nervousness. "Some old movie. I'm not really watching it if you want the remote."

"Non," he replied.

I blew out a quiet breath, not sure if it would be rude to get up and walk out. Not really sure if I wanted to walk away. So I sat perched for a quick retreat and waited. He just sat there, one leg thrown over an arm of the chair, the side of his head resting on his hand with his elbow resting on the other arm of the chair. There wasn't a noticeable trace of discomfort in his body language as he sat there watching the TV. For once I was grateful for the visor. I could watch him without him being aware. Or so I thought.

"Watchu looking at, Scott?" He asked suddenly, quietly.

I sat back startled. "Sorry," I mumbled and got up. That was my exit cue.

But he stood up and blocked my exit so fast it made my head spin. I stepped back away from him, my heart racing and the palms of my hands starting to sweat.

"You tryin' to tell de difference 'tween us, cher?" I drew in a sharp breath at the word 'cher', but couldn't say a word. "You want to know if we look 'xactly alike, talk 'xactly alike, kiss de same way...fuck de same way?" There was barely concealed violence in his tone and I had to admit I was afraid. Not of what Gambit might do, but of how I might react.

"Gambit..." I started, trying to defuse his anger. It only heightened the tension.

"De names Remy, hein. I'm de original. Try not to forget dat."

"Remy..." I began again in almost a whisper.

"You didn' kill him," Gambit interrupted. "Whatchu do wit' him?"

"He's..." I stopped when I realized I was about to tell Gambit that his clone was safe. Not a good choice of words at the moment. "He's been taken care of. Constantine took charge of him. He's been fitted with an inhibitor collar."

"And you t'ink dat's gonna hold him?"

I nodded. "I think so. I have no reason not to. But even if he gets out of that, there are only two functioning portals left. He won't get back here."

Gambit snorted. "And dat's supposed to comfort me?"

I felt frustration welling up in me. "What do you want from me? I'm not going to kill him." I could have given Gambit the cliche answer, that my killing Remy would just lower me to his standards. But instead I gave him the most honest answer I'd given anyone with the exception of Jean and Alex. "I can't. I'm sorry. I don't want him dead."

He looked at me with narrowed eyes for a few moments and then said, "D'ccord." I watched the tension drain out of him all of a sudden. "Den I'll leave him be. But if he ever crosses m'path, I *will* kill him."

"Fine," I replied, some of my own frustration easing. "But I'll stop you if you attempt it while I'm around."

"You can try." Gambit smiled and I felt the breath go out of me. It was a look so like my Remy that I almost fell to my knees, the compulsion to serve him was so strong. I closed my eyes clenching my fists. When I opened them again he was looking at me with a smug curiosity.

"How could you ever t'ink I'd keep slaves? I grew up pretty much like one on de streets of New Orleans. I know what it's like to be a slave," he said. "And I know what it's like to be raped by a man. Ain' many men I'd be willing to fuck dese days."

I swallowed. "Look, I'm sorry. He looks just like you. He's got your smile, your arrogance, your confidence." Remy snorted. "He sounds like you. And he knew things about the X-men that you'd know. Whether or not he fucks like you, well, I couldn't say."

He chuckled at that. "Not gonna find out any time soon, homme." I barked out a laugh, glad that the tension had eased. We wouldn't be bosom buddies. We'd probably still avoid each other for the most part. But at least we might not be so on edge around each other when we did cross paths.

Gambit grinned suddenly and asked, "So am I as good as I'm always sayin'?"

"Better," I replied without thinking.

His eyes widened in shock and I sputtered. "I mean...that is..."

He waved a hand. "Non. I don' want to know anymore." Then he laughed. "Guess it's in de genes, eh?"

I gave an almost childlike nod and Gambit turned to go.

"I'm sorry, " I said, causing him to turn back around. "I'm sorry about Sinister and all the shit you had to go through for so long. And I'm sorry for that clone leaving you in his place."

He waved another dismissing hand. "Not your fault, homme. Sinister's de evil bastard dat started all dis." Gambit winked and added, "But he's been taken care of. Permanently."

I shook my head. I didn't want to know. But a sense of relief washed over me with the knowledge that Sinister might be out of our lives for good. Still, I had to make amends. "We should have looked harder for you. We shouldn't have just assumed you'd turn back up. I'm sorry for that. Storm kept looking. But the rest of us..."

"Forget it, Cyke. You *should* 'ave looked harder. But even den I doubt you would 'ave found me. De Neo really put a fright on Sinister. I never seen him so paranoid. Dey destroyed over half his labs and his research." Gambit spat the last word out as if it were poison. "So he had to rebuild. He moved everyt'ing he had left into one lab and den put most of his efforts into security. It was so tight it took *me* five years to get out."

"Regardless, we...I haven't always been very...loyal to you. Or my brother," I added. "I mean we don't put a great deal of effort into finding our people when they go missing. We just figure they'll turn up eventually. I should have been looking for you and Alex a whole lot harder."

"Well, maybe dis'll be de wake up call, non? Maybe you'll trust Gambit a little more too, eh?"

"Yeah. Maybe I will." I smiled at him.

"'Course," he added, "I 'aven't been de most trustwort'y person on dis team. Maybe dis was some cosmic penance for all de sins of my past."

"No!" I snapped. "You didn't deserve being under Sinister's control anymore than Alex and I deserved being slaves." I reached out suddenly and grabbed Gambit's shoulder. "You're a good man, Remy. That clone may look like you and have a lot of your mannerisms. But he's a poor copy to the original."

"Would you say dat to de clone?" Remy pressed.

"No," I admitted. No I wouldn't say that because I was still half in love with the idea of my Remy. But I couldn't say that to Gambit. Instead I said, "No. I was conditioned not to say things like that to him. I wouldn't risk the punishment."

With relief I noticed that Gambit seemed to accept this as he nodded. We stood there quietly looking at each other. The silence became awkward after a moment and I saw to my embarrassment that I still had my hand on his shoulder. I dropped it immediately.

"Well," I breathed.

Without warning Gambit stepped forward and laid a hand on my cheek. "You fell in love wit' him, didn' you?"

The air went out of me. "How?" I managed to say.

"I can feel your love for Jean. When you talk about de clone, de feeling I get is similar. And after all he done to you, you still can' kill him."

"I was so close," I whispered. "If you hadn't arrived when you did, I might have been protecting him from you. He was so seductive, addicting." I leaned into Gambit's caress. "Can you do that? Can you make someone fall in love with you?"

"I wouldn't," Gambit said quietly.

"But could you?" His fingers lightly brushed my skin and I closed my eyes, biting back a soft moan. I could feel myself getting hard. But I wasn't sure if Gambit was using some of his power or if I was aroused by my own imagination. "Could you?" I asked again.

"Oui," he said. "I could. But I wouldn't." He moved closer and could feel his breath on my lips. "I won't." Then he bent forward and brushed his lips against mine. There was nothing I could do but open my lips up to him. And it was my Remy. His kiss awoke all the feelings once again, leaving me helpless against the onslaught. I let him pull me close, felt his arousal against my thigh, felt his hands settle on my ass, stroking, kneading urgently. He was as wonderful and as tender as my own Remy and I groaned into the kiss.

But then Gambit pulled away and reached to caress my cheek again, running the knuckles over the skin, causing me to shiver. "But I won't," he murmured. "As tempting as dat is, dat's not me. Dat clone's got good taste, t'ough." He smiled disarmingly causing me to grin. "Must be in de DNA." He dropped his hand and stepped back. "Just wanted to make sure you recognized de
difference."

I laughed and he walked away calling over his shoulder, "don' you forget it, mon ami." It was several weeks before I saw him again.

Part L
Epilogue

I asked him if he t'ought dis collar would hold me. He tried to sound confident, gave a smart answer. It was better dan having me killed. And I'd 'ave to admit he was right 'bout dat. But he was wrong if he t'ought it would hold me.

Forgetting de fact dat I'm a master t'ief, de collar was originally programmed to inhibit my donor's powers. What my former captor wasn't aware of was dat I'm more powerful dan de donor. He didn' know I was a clone. Sinister had experimented wit' de charm power. He boosted my kinetic power too, but he really wanted to see what I could do wit' de empathy. De bastard's immune to emotion so it wouldn't affect him. I don't know what his plans were for me. I was pretty much a slave to his whims until he took de original and had most of his memories imprinted on me. Dat's when I really came alive. You see, a clone's a tabula rasa until he gets experience, or in my case, takes on someone's memories and knowledge. I don' t'ink Sinister was
aware of what an opportunity he was giving me. I say de bastard don' feel, but he's still an arrogant son of a bitch. Probably t'ought he'd still be able to control me. But dat's his mistake. He allowed me more freedom dan de original and it was almost too easy to escape.

I'm a clone. Don' t'ink for a moment I don't accept dat fact. I do. But it galls me. I'm a copy of de original Remy Lebeau. More powerful dan de original. But still a copy. And most people know how wort'less a copy is. Not de sacred first. Not de one dat's valued. Never dat. Just a shadow of de genuine article.

Still, I made my own way. Used my charm to gain power. It took me a while to realize dat my empathy wasn't inhibited completely by dis collar. But once I knew, it wasn't long before I was free.

And dat's where Scott's mistaken. Dis collar won' hold me. And Constantine is in no way immune to my power. He's already started to believe he has control over me, dat he's seducing me. But dat's what I want him to believe. Dat he's in control. Dat first week I wouldn't eat unless he encouraged me to. He's been so kind in his treatment of me. I t'ink dat even if I wasn't able to use
my power he'd still be kind to me. He's a good man. But I won't be held captive. I'll use him or anyone I have to to get free.

After all, I have a reason to escape. My days as Patriarch are over now. But Scott and Alex? Dey're still waiting for me. Dey don' know it. Dey'd probably deny it wit' deir last breath. But I know I'll have dem again. It's only a matter of time before Constantine releases dis collar. Den I'll get t'rough de portals to Earth.

Information is de key. It's de power as it's always been. And Constantine gives me plenty of information since he seems to t'ink it's useless to me. Already I know dat dere are two portals still functioning in de city. And one is in my palace. And I know every one of de corridors of dat palace, including de ones no one knows about. Easy enough for a t'ief to get in.

I also know how much wealth I have on Earth. Wealth I acquired before being brought here. I have some hidden wealth here as well. Constantine doesn't know about dat. He and de Councilors dat are allied wit' him have frozen all my funds. De ones dey know about at least. But as I remember Jean Luc saying...or as I remember what Jean Luc said to de original, never show dem
your full hand.

It'll be easy enough to escape once dis collar is off. I t'ink tonight I'll make my first move. Let Constantine believe he's seducing me into his bed for de first time. I'll play de dejected prisoner. De one who needs comfort, forgiveness perhaps. He'll offer dat comfort. He'll fall for my charm. Den he'll fall hard for me. I'll make love to him wit' a passion dat will rend his heart. By tomorrow he'll give me whatever I ask for. But I'll play it carefully. Too much too soon could make him suspicious. So I'll ask for somet'ing small. Like a ride in de countryside. A day out of my prison. Little by little he'll give into my requests until he's t'inking it's all his idea to remove dis collar. A month perhaps. Maybe a little longer. Time enough to have him take me into de city on some pretext, only to give me a chance to get hold of my hidden resources. Den I'll lose dis collar and make my escape.

Scott and Alex will be waiting for me at Xavier's. And I'll have my boys wit' me again.

END

FINAL NOTES: It's finished!!!! I never thought I'd ever get to say that, but it's true. Thank you for putting up with all the time it took for me to get this done. Fifty parts and 205 pages. Heaven knows how many words. :) And yes, I made Part 49 longer than many of the parts just so I could have an even 50. Shameless, but true. hehe.

I'd like to personally thank Richel, my beta, who helped to make this little smut fantasy of mine into something much better. I can't thank her enough. Her suggestions were fantastic. And her analysis of the story was one of the highpoints of writing this epic. I couldn't have done it without her support and encouragement.

I'd also like To thank Kelahnus. She was there from the beginning, nagging me to write more. Without that I might have stopped long ago. I'm not very good at finishing what I start.

Finally, for all those who gave me feedback on this story, for the readers who wrote to tell me this kind of story wasn't their cup of tea and often made them squirm but still read it anyway, I give you a heartfelt thank you. It's priceless to know someone has read your stories and likes what they read. Priceless to get the kind of wonderful feedback I received. I've saved almost all of the emails sent to me. And I'll always look back at those emails when I'm thinking I can't write another word.

It's been a wild, wonderful ride. I hope everyone who's taken the time to read this story, and had the patience to put up with waiting for another part has enjoyed this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Thank you again.