Straight Up

"He's gone, Cyke," Logan informed the field leader. He settled in the visitor's chair and put his feet up on the desk. Scott frowned at the feet.

"Cerebro activate tracker G3."

"Tracker G3 has been disabled."

"Under what authority?"

"Cyclops-Alpha-Blue."

"He's good," Scott acknowledged. "So when are you leaving?"

"I ain't going after him." Wolverine relished the sight. Cyclops was speechless, his jaw hanging open in surprise. Logan entertained a brief blowjob fantasy, then shook it off.

"Why not?"

"Boy asked me not to ask him to stay. He said he'll write. I figure he'll be back soon enough?"

"Oh?"

"He's just trying to get you to take him seriously. I figure a month or so'll take care of his temper."

"And raise my blood-pressure. I didn't want him out because he's in danger."

Logan frowned. "No more'n usual."

"Usual doesn't give my stomach cramps." Scott scowled.

"So yer a pre-cog?" Logan crossed his arms over his stomach.

"Very limited. Team oriented." Scott looked mildly uncomfortable. "Too fucking reliable for my taste."

"Yer girl's a telepath."

"So? She doesn't know the future." Cyclops sighed. "It's a hold-over from the time-travel. I still don't like the idea of him on his own."

"He'll write. If he don't respond to his email, I'll hunt him down."

"Set up a schedule with him. One where if he misses a check in, he'll get help whether he wants it or not."

"Don't worry, Cyke. He'll be fine. When'd ya start worryin' about him anyway?"

"I always did. That's why I'm so hard on him," Scott pointed out. "Just beacue I yell at him on a regular basis doesn't mean I hate him."

"He pushes yer buttons." Logan shook his head.

****

Remy climbed off of his bike. He sauntered into the hotel and got a room for the night. He plugged in his laptop to check his email. He sifted through the offers asking for more information on a few. Looks like I'm back in business, he thought.

Then, he found a message from Logan. "Hey, pet. Figure you're going to check your mail someday. I want to set up some guideline for your adventure." Remy's brows rose. "Write to me every day, boy. If you don't, I'll find you, even if that means hauling your body out of a lake. If you don't respond in two days, I'm going to send one more message. I'll give you two more days to answer it. After that, I'll hunt you. And if you're not in trouble when I find you, I'll beat that taut little ass of yours black and blue."

****

Logan checked his mail. He grinned, teeth glinting white in the light of the desk lamp.

"I told you I'd write, mon coeur. Don't you trust me? I suppose I agree to your conditions. With one difference. Certain jobs will take more than one day to complete. I can't write everyday, but I'll warn you when I'm going to be out of contact. So all you're planning to do is beat me? That's no fun. For me anyway.

"It's strange to be on my own again. There were only a few months between my leaving Sinister and finding Stormy. And there was only. . . no, I won't go there. How is my Stormy? I don't have the energy to resolve our fight, but still I worry about her.

"You'll be pleased to know that I'm having trouble sleeping alone. Your scent isn't in the sheets here and it feels so cold and empty. It's like a negative ground in a picture. I’m stuck here in this limbo, wishing that you're here to hold me, stroke me, tell me I'm your good boy. At the same time, I relish my little freedoms, knowing I can't stand this loneliness too long. I'm not watching CNN tonight. I'm watching Star Trek. Take that, M. Newshound.

"Who am I kidding? I'm curled up on the bed staring at a computer screen, wishing it would tell me something more interesting than stock reports. I'm straining to hear your breathing over the noise of the television. I'll be moving on tomorrow, there are some sources I still need to check. Tell Cyke I'll send him news when I find something interesting.

"Missing you already, me."

****

Remy found himself in Cleveland and called it good enough for a day's ride. He collapsed onto the new anonymous bed. It was just the Day's Inn, but it would do for now.

"Hey, kiddo," Logan's message read. "If you're lonely then come home. I know that's not going to happen, but I have to try. You've got Scooter in a pother. He wants me to come after you, hunt you down and bring you back like a trophy. I won't say that I haven't considered it. I love hunting you, your breathing fast, scent scared, aroused, intoxicating. Then, holding you down and tasting your sweat, your skin, your blood.

"I want that spiced sweetness on my tongue. I want to feel the flex and stretch of your muscles in my grip, even as you know you can't escape and your breath hitches in your throat. I want to buckle your collar on just a bit tighter than usual and see your eyes turn pleading as you bite your lip not to complain. I want to see you kneeling, eyes down, hands trapped behind your back. I want to hear the mewling whimpers of need from behind your gag. And I want to bury myself in your ass until you remember forever that you are mind from blood to soul and there's no escaping my possession.

"I better not smell anyone else on you, slut, or you will get a beating. Do you still feel me or have the bruises faded too much? Come home and I'll make you fly. -L."

****

"My dearest boss, you have no idea how frustrated your notes make me. My ass is still sore, and riding doesn't do much to help it. I met someone today. You'll probably remember him. His name is Matthew Winston. He's Cole's master. He's sharp and thin and whip smart. Ah, well, I'll just have to tell you everything, or you'll never believe it.

"I was standing at Starbucks, infuriating the cashier by speaking French. She didn't know what the Hell I was saying, but she ended up giving it a good guess. As I was waiting for my coffee, a hand touched my shoulder. "Remy, isn't it?" he asked. I turned because the voice was familiar but not overly so. I thought it was someone I'd met during my time with Sinister. He sounded like a scientist. My shock must have been evident. "Join me at my table, won't you?" The last part was tacked on as an after-thought, but I didn't take offense. Our first meeting was so memorable.

"Cole was sitting there. He moved over so that I could have more room to set down my helmet and packs. 'Merci,' I said. He just looked at me with this petulant little frown. I wasn't comfortable with it, but we were in a public place, so it seemed safe enough. Winston sat down next to his pet.

"'This is quite a lucky coincidence. We were just discussing Cole's issues with prejudice."

"'Oui? And what can this po' boy do for you?' Winston smiled. He has a smile as sharp as the rest of him. I was looking for fangs. I cocked my head in polite curiosity.

"'Simply be yourself.'

"'Ah, M., but I am not that interesting. Tell me about yourself?'

"Cole snorted. 'Tell me, how does your master deal with the fact that you're a fucking freak?'

"'It ain't an issue.'

"'But surely there is prejudice within the policing community? Especially for one such as yourself?' Winston's eyes were like the glimmer of candlelight on the blade of your katana. I shook my head with a small smile.

"'But, M., I am just a consultant. My eyes brand me, oui, but Logan, he likes them. He don't rightly care what other folks say, so long as they don't act on it.'

"Cole shifted nervously. 'I'm sorry for that.' He couldn't look at me. He felt sincere enough, but, boss, it weren't real. He felt sorry because it got him in trouble. Well, maybe he didn't mean to hurt me, but his hate feels like oil on my soul. Winston's mouth pinched up like he'd been sucking on Betsy's cooking.

"Cole flushed and looked down. 'I do not allow lying, boy,' his master told him.

"'Then you don't want to talk to me,' I said in a pathetic attempt to ease the tension.

"Winston laughed at that. 'I have an interest in art. One of the pieces you recovered was mine.'

"I perked up at that. You know there were several pieces I wanted from that group. We chatted amiably about his collection for awhile. Cole was so full of jealous rage he was like to burst. Some sick fascination kept me there. Or maybe it's just a sadistic fascination. I'm not sure, boss. Maybe you know, oui? Just when I thought it was going to boil over, Winston got serious.

"'Tell me, child, what are you doing running about alone? Something exotic, like yourself, should be safely contained.'

"'I'm looking for someone. I can't do it by sitting home. Besides, it was getting a little too close at him.' I tried to hedge delicately, but I found myself suddenly on the receiving end of Cole's sympathy. He put his hand on my wrist.

"'Who are you looking for?'

"'A man known as the Antiquary.'

"'That's not a name you bandy about lightly. Why are you looking for him?' Winston pressed.

"I took my time answering. Cole's eyes were soft, liquid brown and I understood. 'He dropped you,' I whispered. 'He ain't a mutant. He's a sorcerer.'

"'He didn't want me because I wasn't exotic.'

"'He left you alive,' I countered. 'You're lucky.'

"'He took and took. I wasn’t good enough.'

"'He used you up and threw you out. Good, bad, he don’t' care," I snarled at him. "Children ain't nothing but a food source for him. I want him stopped.'

"Cole squeezed my wrist, just about your bracelet. 'Don't hate him.'

"'Too late.' I pushed my shades up to the top of my head. Cole met my eyes. 'You survived, but he broke something that your lover has been trying to fix. I'm through pretending that he didn’t' hurt me, or that he loved me. I was a possession, nothing more. And trust me, cher, you don't *want* to be his favorite.' I shook off his hand. I gave Winston my email address. 'If you hear anything, let me know. Goodbye.' I picked up my things.

"'What are you running from?' Winston asked.

"'The urge to hurt someone. Excuse me.' I left the place and didn't stop until I made it to the safety of my hotel room.

"How could I go so far to create such a painful bond to one person I felt happy to hate? I don’t' know why I said anything at all. I don't know why I needed to hear what they had to say. Lord, I'm crazy.

"I bought a pair of handcuffs earlier. Well, sort of bought. Got a pair's a better description. I'm not sure why except they were shiny. It ain't like I'm going to use them when I'm alone.

"Mattie's doing better. The treatment's taking. She should be out of the hospital soon. I might sneak down for a visit. Belle'll probably give me a pass because it's Mattie.

"Scotty being as much of a bastard as he usually is? How is Bobby doing on his exercises? I forgot how cold it can be when you're alone at night, wondering about your friends.

"Miss you. Love you - R."

****

Logan brushed his fingers across the last line. Gambit had never been away more than a day before. The lack of his presence made the mansion seem colder. And it wasn't a matter of sex, though that was a part of it. It was the sparring, the laughter, the smiles, that Logan missed. The Canadian sighed.

"Handcuffs, huh? Think the cop knows they're gone yet? I think you'll be using them. That's why you told me isn't it? You're going to use them tonight when you go to sleep. And when you close your eyes you'll feel me watching you like I always do to make sure you sleep.

"And I'm sure that you'll get a good sturdy plug to wear at night too. But there's no hurry. You'll be back soon. The craving for control will start to eat at you and you know better than to go to someone else for it while I've still got my mark on you.

"So, you'll come home and pour out every dirty thought in your pretty little head and if you're real lucky and real good, I'll make some of them come true. I'll hear the little hum in the back of your throat that tells me just how much you're loving my 'torture' even when your mouth is begging me to stop. I'll smell the ozone on your skin as your powers try to rise and you fight them back until they're contained and you're trembling like you've just fought Sabretooth for an hour. You'll look up at me with those gorgeous scarlet and black eyes glittering with emotions I can't name -- as mysterious as your trains of thought after midnight. I'll taste the rum and tobacco in your mouth as you arch into my grasp. And maybe, just maybe I'll watch the delicate flush rise up your body as you come ever so close to release. If you beg sweetly enough, you might get to come.

"Be careful, pet. I want you in one piece when I get you back. -L."

****

Remy stood in the darkness, eyes tracking the shifting lasers. He'd memorized the pattern already, he just needed the opening. In five, four, three, two, now. He dove through the lights, touching down like a cat, unconcerned about the looping cameras or the shifting beams he moved between on silent feet, energy humming thought his body making him lighter than his frame suggested. It was an application of his powers he'd never told anyone about.

The vault fell under his swift preparations and he selected the objects he'd been commissioned for and a few he recognized from the art briefs offering finders fees. Then, he reversed the pattern, locking the doors behind himself so that no one could trace his steps. He got into the cheap car he'd "borrowed" from the lot and drove to the edge of the city where his bike was stored. He abandoned the car. He drove to his local agent's building to drop off his collection. They arranged the payment plans and it was done.

The heady wine of a heist-rush kept Remy flying even as he lay across the chintz coverlet of the hotel bed. He arched up, cracking his back. Then, he changed. It was only about eleven. He needed to do something. His dark burgundy sweater switched to a simple white shirt and dragon silk brocade vest from Logan. He flipped the cuffs of his shirt up to reveal the dark brown bracelet. He tousled his bangs artistically, then pulled on his duster.

Luckily, he knew where he was going and where to park because the weather had changed to a heavy sleeting rain. "Mr. LeBeau, the weather has turned nasty, hasn't it?" the butler said taking his coat and helmet with quiet efficiency. "There's a fire in the green room tonight."

"How's the black room today, Marshall?"

"Mr. Michaels is holding a private function, but I've been given to understand that you are always welcome to his affairs."

"Merci, Marshall. I'll have to stop in then."

The club was cozy and opulent. It was fashioned after the English "gentleman's clubs," that were popular with the men of wealth. Remy had been sponsored into it at fifteen by an especially favorite uncle. There were four rooms per floor and ten floors. The casual elegance of old money was a feature in the décor. Silk wallpaper and gilt framed mirrors nestled cozily with any number of antiques and object d' art. The black room was the largest room. It occupied the entire basement. A minimalist painting at one end dominated the sleek red and black theme. It was the most modern room and the most likely room to find dancing and drink.

Remy leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest to survey the crowd. Johnathon Michaels' face bloomed into a smile. He hurried over. "Bon suir, M. Michaels."

They clasped hands. "God, it's been ages, Remy."

Michaels was a foot shorter than the Cajun, and slightly built. His hair was a mottled brown, cut in a traditional manner. He was a gallery owner, a friend from "before."

****

"Oh, mon cher, isn't it strange how life runs in circles? I ran into an old friend today from when I was thinking about college. Well, it seems I'm fully back in business. My bank accounts are happier, but I don't know if I am.

"My skills need to be used. I'm addicted, I suppose. I need the challenge, the game, the rush. I was going crazy at home, not being allowed to hunt. That's why I left. Not you, never you, merde, I love you so much that I feel like I'm going to die without your touch. I can't come back to the mansion though, not right now because then Scotty will win and I can't let that happen.

"But that leaves me here, half-broken without my better parts. My heart is so far away that I can feel my chest caving in from the hollowness. And the night feels so dark and cold and lonely.

"So I lay down in the dark, rubbing the leather on my wrist across my lips, praying for sleep so I'll dream about you. I can feel your hands caress me when I close my eyes. I feel the bite of the ring on my cock and the strength of your body flexing over me, rubbing against me until I'm ready to scream from the sheer agony of the pleasure that invades my senses. I need to come so badly, but my mind is programmed now. I need to hear your voice, get your permission, before I can find my completion. I am yours completely. -R."

****

Logan felt the heat gathering in his groin. His cock was hard behind the soft denim of his jeans. Unlike his boy, however, he was free to come as he pleased. He closed his eyes and watched his pet writhe in the frustratingly loose ties that held him in place for Logan's pleasure. He saw the flush of Remy's skin as he arched and twisted to get away from the light, taunting touch of the leather strap that traced his body. Logan exploded with the power of denied excitement. He settled more deeply into his char. He carefully cleaned up the sticky liquid with a paper towel. Then, he started to type.

"Ah, pet, you're being real good ain't you? Not coming without permission even.

"I miss you, brat. I miss the smell of your hair in the morning, the soft silk of it under my fingers at night. I miss seeing you curled up with a magazine on the couch, perching on the kitchen counter.

"I miss the sound of your heartbeat as you cuddle up against me. I miss the stretch of your limbs as you tumble across the room. I miss your snarky comments in the middle of a battle and the ozone-scent of your cards.

"The nights are lonely too. I've gotten used to being with you, pet. I've gotten used to being able to turn you on with the lightest touch and making you follow my orders. Every time I open the closet I'm shocked by the realization that I don't have you neatly crated, that you're really not here. I never considered you'd leave this place, kiddo. It feels like you've left me behind and it was so sudden that it feels like death.

"Scott's the only one who talks about you. And then only to me or Red. Slim's worrying himself into a quiet frenzy over the bastard that hurt you. He's got this idea in his head that if he can just get him, then you'll come back. Maybe the knots in his stomach will ease enough not to obsess about where you are. He does care. Even more now that he knows what you're into. But you know the only reason I didn't follow you is because Slim needs me on the team. At least I'm pretty sure of that.

"Storm ain't talking to me, which is a good thing because I'd like to cut her open and feast on her heart. Her implications and snide sideways comments are starting to piss me off. I'm planning to get Jeannie to talk to her.

"Bobby and Rogue are stabilizing. Hank's his usual self. Chuckles and I don't exactly spend a shit-load of time together, so who knows what he's up to. Me, I dream, I plot, I plan. Get that plug yet, boy?

"I've got a game fore you. I want to see how long you can go plugged during the day. If you do a good job, I'll give you the order to come. Otherwise, you'll have to keep trying. Cuff yourself at night so you aren't tempted to play with my property. Think you can manage that, pet? -L."

****

"Merde, you don't ask for much, do you, boss? I'll pick up the plug tomorrow. This place doesn't have a decent porn shop. Ever since I talked to J. M. the other day I've been thinking about going back to school. I thought that idea was as dead as the dream of having a baby to spoil. I'd want to go to Paris if I did and that's like to kill me. Ole Remy's just confused. There's so much going on in my head that I don't know what to do. I need some peace and quiet to think.

"I think what gets to me most ain't the loneliness, it's the realization that the only thing that made me happy there is you and sometimes fighting with Scotty. Mais, there's things I don't mind about that place, but it's not anything I miss. And that's breaking my heart. I wanted to believe in something, but it turns out I didn't. I couldn't care less about 'the dream.' Life's funny that way. I sent you something today. You should get it in a couple of days.

"Since I'm being morose, I'm gonna cut this short and get on the road. -R."

****

"I'll sort through the confusion. Come home and life'll be real simple. If you're good, you'll get a snuggle at night. If you're naughty, I'll crate you for the night. I'll beat Stormy for you until she comes around. Scott'll start sending you on missions after a week of Danger Room sessions. You and Jeannie can compare bruises.

"Icepop needs some more time with you. His aim ain't better. He's been trying thought, I'll give him that. Scott got a shock when Bobby pulled out a few tricks last week. I've been sparring with him. I'd rather be with you. You can actually pull your punches.

"That's it for gossip for now. If you catch the news, you might see something interesting from DC. -L."

****

"I already knew about that Turner being returned ;). I'm surprised you remembered, that was so long ago.

"Would you get pissed if I got a tattoo? I met up with an artist I knew for awhile. She's got a style I adore. I've asked her to design one for me, but I'm not wedded to the idea yet. We've never talked about whether or not it's a turn-off for you.

"As for Bobby, he'll get better. It'll just take a bit more time. Thanks for keeping up his training, I was feeling guilty for not being there for him. And Stormy, well, you can beat her, but you better not enjoy it. I'll write to her, make her understand. Maybe she won't be quite as stubborn if she doesn't have to actually see me.

"Oddly enough, I don't even care about Rogue and Bobby. It's nice that they're getting along, but I'm more interested in whether or not Bobby's aim's improved. By the way, what would you know about Jeannie's bruises? Is there something I should know?

"I want to see you so badly that my teeth ache from it, but I don't want to come to the Mansion. I don't want to be near Charles or face off again with Warren. Gods, I'm so out of it. Logan, I love you. I want you to run away with me, but I know how much you believe in Scotty. I know how much your word means to you and to him. I wish, I wish, I wish, that I could have you without compromising all of us. My heart burns and I'm pining for your touch. Is this how women feel when they send their husbands off to war?

"I watch the news to see if you're there. I listen to the whisper-streams for any mention of you or of my quarry. Strangely, the further I go from the last location we knew about, the more I hear about him. How was this kept secret for so long? What changed?

"Ah, me, I'll probably never know the truth. I only want to find him, kill him, or maybe just hurt him. Make him stop.

"I've been wearing your plug, cher. It's so hard to deal with it. I started with an hour thinking it would be easy, but it's not. I can't manage it that long when I can get to it easily. I want to please you so bad, but it's like I have no self-control. I even tried cuffing myself, but the cuffs are too easy to get out of. I've been picking them since I was a kid. I might have to get something stiffer, maybe leather cuffs with a padlock or something. A combination mebbe? I don't know, M. Logan. I just don't know.

"The longing gets to me at night. I wish I could hear your voice. It just isn't the same reading you on the page. Just one night, I think to myself. I could go back for just one night. But I know that if I come back I'll never get up the will to leave again. Mais, maybe we could meet, you and I. We could meet and spend one glorious night, then you go your way and I go mine. Until the next time the longing gets too hard. Or something worse happens.

"Non, I will not get morose. I promise you that, boss. I won't dwell on never seeing you again. I don't think I have that much willpower. I need you too badly to give you up for good. I can't quit cigarettes and you're much more addicting than that.

"Your -R.

****

"Quite a problem you go there, pet. Can't manage to even make an hour. You ain't never gonna get to come if you don't manage at least five. And that's during the day, boy, not at night. I expect you to wear it all night, just like when I was away. Too bad I don't have someone to call to make sure you're bound up nice and tight for the night. That'd be a good job, maybe if you find me a nice dominatrix in the area she'll be willing to tie you down for me. You get to pay of course. There's things I'd love to be able to tell you to do, but it's just not safe. Too bad, eh?

"Storm seems to have calmed down. She apologized to me the other day, more for upsetting you. Scott hasn't told anyone why you left. Storm thinks it's because she went to Xavier about our relationship. I haven't told her otherwise. I just said that they were your reasons not mine and she'd have to take it up with you. She wasn't happy about it, but she accepted it.

"What's the biggest problem with the plug, Rems? Is it too big? Is it too small? Too easy to get out? Or is it the fact that it's something *you* can take out as opposed to something I would take out? Is it that your hands are free? There's nothing to do about that if that's the case. You'll just have to overcome the roadblock in your head. Work up to it in fifteen minute increments or something. Poor pet, can't come without permission. Can't get permission without making his goals. I want a play by play of your night in the next note. Understand?

"I'd say sleep well, but I don't mean it. I want you miserable enough that you'll come home and horny enough that you'll stay home once you get here. Remember your plug, brat. -L"

****

"What would you want me to do, if safety weren't an issue? I want to know.

"It's more a matter of being allowed to take it out at my own pace. Bon Dieu, you don't ask for much. Five hours during the day? That'd be like fucking myself every time I went for a ride. And though I find the idea more than stimulating I don't know if I can manage it. Overnights are a problem more than that though. I can't manage to keep my hands away from it. Even if I cuff myself behind my back, I can't manage to stop myself from wriggling free of the plug. Maybe it is too small, but if I had a big one I wouldn't be able to function. I don't know. I need to come so badly, boss. I need to figure out what's wrong.

"I finished dinner and went back to my room. The covers are pink and turquoise. I hate the faux Caribbean look of them. I locked the door and put on the chain lock as well. I checked my mail like I always do and read your note. My cock got hard just thinking of what you might do to me if you had me pliable. And I dread the thought of finding a dominatrix. I don't care how much money I pay her, I'd still be unable to trust her. But it is a thought. And If I found one just for one session, it might push me into the mindset. But that's very low on my list.

"I brushed my teeth and did all the other little things I do at night. I braided my hair back so it wouldn't fall over my shoulder and drive me crazy while I was bent over the tub putting in the plug. It's not the smallest on the market, but it's not as big as the one you make me use. I slipped it in after a little bit of resistance and pulled my jeans back up. I put on a belt, to make it harder for me to get out of. Then, I cuffed my hands behind my back and went to lay down. I turned out the lights with a little maneuvering and checked the clock. I lay there for about fifteen minutes before the pressure was too much. I picked the lock on the cuffs and freed myself. All told I wore the plug for maybe half an hour. I planned to put it in this morning, but I looked at it and I just couldn't. I imagined your disappointed frown and nearly wept from the shame of not being able to please you. Oh, boss, I'm so disappointed in myself. I need your control so badly. My cock aches with need. I just don't know what to do. Frustrated - R."

****

"We're getting to the point, pet, where I'm gonna make you get a belt. Something that locks up your ass and your cock for the day. I'll be patient, but I don't have some real results by the end of the week, we'll have a serious talk about your lack of discipline. Seems to me locks don't do it for you. I'm thinking that what you need is rope. Nice sturdy cotton rope that cinches up between your wrists and keeps you from moving. That way there's nothing to pick.

"If I weren't worried about your safety, I'd have you gagged at night as well. But the last thing I want is for you to choke without someone watching over you. And don't give me any bullshit about being gagged overnight here being the same as when you're alone. Even if I weren't watching over you, Jeannie would be. I'd have you're legs nicely trussed as well. I'd keep you in a nice tight hog-tie if I had to. Ah, well, if we dwell on could be's we'll both go insane.

"Scooter's getting more bitchy by the day. It's fascinating to watch. I have to wonder what he'd be like if he didn't have his girl to take it out on. He gets this little scowl sometimes that makes me think he's getting migraines again. Not my problem exactly, but it's Cyke. You know me. What are you doing out all the time, pet? Leaving here just don't seem like something you'd do, but now that you're gone I'm beginning to see where you're coming from. Even the Icepop doesn't seem to mind that you're gone. And it's strange, but Ro's changed somehow. She's more uptight than she's ever been. What did you tell her? She's not snapping at me, but she's sure as shit not a happy camper. And Chuckles doesn't seem to care one way or the other. I got your package today. Cute. Where the hell did you find handcuffs for a teddy bear?

"When are you coming to see me?

-L.

****

"I don't know, my love, I don't know. I'm horny and lonely and bitchy enough to put Rogue to shame during a PMS moment. But I can't go back to the Mansion. The further away I get, the more convinced I am of that. Would you meet me and not tell Scott where? If I asked you to stay with me, would you? Oh, my heart, what am I going to do with myself? I seem to be a right mess, cher.

"The plug is driving me insane, which is why I’m bitchy. I put it on before I went out the morning, and there's just no good way to get rid of it when I'm in public. I feel like there's a sign over my head saying 'slut', but no one seems to notice anything strange. Gods, boss, it's like dying from need. My cock is hard all the time and I've got to be careful to keep a shirt over it. I look like I'm more body conscious than a teen-age girl. Most folks seem to think I'm just a lot younger than I am. Of course, you think I'm a lot younger than I am and Scott treats me like I’m twelve, so I guess that's normal. I just got a lot more 'honey' 'sweetie' 'boy' comments today than I've had in years. Do I really look that young?

"Anyways, boss, I'm keeping busy. Doing things that Charles wouldn't approve of. And as for Stormy? Let her brood. It'll do her good to worry about her behavior. She's uptight because Jean let her in on the little secret that she's a freak like me. That's why she's in a mood. Yes, boss, I do write to other people. I wrote to Jeannie because she's been Stormy's friend for so long that there's nothing she could say that would make Storm hate her. But I think she came close. Christ, that girl's such trouble.

"I wore your damned plug for five hours and twenty-three minutes. That's exactly how long it took me to get from where I was, to where I was going with one stop for lunch in the middle. My ass feels like I've been fucked for five hours. My cock was rock hard, but I took a freezing shower and that helped a bit. I put it back in about half an hour ago when I got ready for bed. One change though, I got a harness. The plug can't just slip out, I've got to make an effort and if I'm distracted, it's too much to worry about. Of course, now that I've been writing about it, I can feel it again. It's pressing into my body and I feel so full that I'm squirming from it. I wonder if there's a way I can tie my hands that's hard to get out of? No, I won't do it without you around, but it's a thought. Maybe that's what I'll dream about tonight?

"-R"

****

"Better not do anything when I ain't around to get you out of it, boy. Cuffs, well, that's different. But no rope. No tape. Nothing like that, or swear to God, I will track you down and beat you. Don't make me worry about you, boy.

"On the other hand, you did a good job, pet. I might even let you come for me. Just a few more steps. And I don't want to hear any whining. I don't like it." Logan smirked to himself at that one. He could visualize his pet's pout at that. "You're getting more disciplined. I still hate the idea of you being away.

"Storm has straightened her shoulders finally. She's not talking to me and she gets a major case of blushes whenever Scott looks in her direction. You know the look too, the little frown of disapproval. He's more than willing to let her suffer. Strange how I'm starting to notice things that never peaked my interest earlier. Oh, I knew he and Jeannie were into some interesting shit. They moved to the boathouse so they could have privacy, but I hear them when I'm in the woods. Life's just funny that way.

"Jeannie sends her regards. Said your email bounced her message. I think you went and gave her a dead account. Sounds about right. Write Scott. He's making me crazy. You bother him even better when you ain't here.

"You bother me too. I think sometimes when I'm laying in bed that I've got your in my arms. I can almost smell you, feel the softness of your skin. I have this urge to taste your lips, your tongue, your blood. And when I wake up, I find out that it isn't real. It's those hazy half-times when you aren't awake and you aren't asleep. And if I try hard I can hear your heartbeat and your breathing. And sometimes, I wake up with a raging hard-on that wants to be buried in your ass or your mouth. But unlike you, my little pet, I can come when I like.

"As for when you can come, which I can almost hear you begging sweetly for, these are what I want from you. First, Next week, Wednesday, meet me at the Hilton in Las Vegas. The reservation is under Pat Harrison. Be ready to play. Second, wear your plug all night and as much of the day as you can stand.

"Love -L"

****

"Bon Dieu, boss, that's only four days. Guess I can make it though. Can't say what time I'll get there. And don’t ask me how long I can stay. Mind you, if I see any hints of the team, I'm gone.

"Oh, my poor ass can't take such abuse, boss. Please tell me you're kidding? When I'm riding I can't take it out and it rumbles and throbs something awful. I have to keep my coat closed anytime I'm inside and sometimes, folks get mighty suspicious. I only have two sweaters that are long enough. Merde, I need to do some shopping I guess. Oh, boss, please, don't make me do this. I'll be your good little chien the whole time in Vegas, but please don't torture me so.

"I'll write to Jeannie, don't worry. And I'll give Scotty a heads up.

"I miss you so desperately that I want to cry from the lack of you. My cock aches for your touch. My lips ache for you caress. Please, boss, please. I'm only asking for one time. I've been so good for so long, boss, please?

"Still yours -R"

****

"You know my rules about whining, pet. No -L"

****

"Are you terribly mad at your poor pet, boss? I'll be good, honest. Not another word. Oh, cher, I live for your messages these days. You know if I'm alive, but it's the way I know you're alive too. I'm counting hours. -R"

****

"Poor, suffering, pet. You can stand it a bit longer. You're my good boy, aren't you? -L"

****

"Always. -R."

****

Remy yawned and stretched. He left his usual Vegas haunt and waved to the concierge. Tim waved back with a grin. He hadn't seen Mr. LeBeau in over a year, but you couldn't forget him. He wandered towards the Hilton, taking his time. It was a bit of a walk, but he had time and he needed to lose his usual Vegas attitude. Hell, they let him play anywhere he wanted. He'd considered going back to gambling full-time, but the rush of a heist still called to him. He made a mental note to stop at the Bellagio before he left town. He needed to see if that forgery was still in the art gallery or if some idiot had actually purchased it.

Finally, he looked up at the Hilton. It did wonders to his perspective. How did Logan figure he'd get the key? He shook his head. Pat Harrison wasn't his alias, but he'd find out where he was. "Bonjour, chere," he said to the girl behind the front desk. "Is M. Patrick Harrison here, yet?"

She smiled at him and checked her computer screen. "Yes, he is, did you want me to call him?"

"Non, merci, chere, just tell m' which room, sil vous plait?"

She considered. "I'm sorry, but we don't give out that information."

"But, chere, he don' know I'm comin' t' see him, oui? I want t' surprise him. Ain't seen him in f'ever. Got his email tellin' me 'bout this trip, and Remy, he t'ought, why not surprise him. Won't bot'er him. Jus' knock on the door, me." He gave her his sweetest smile.

She echoed his smile. "We don't give out that information, sir. I can call his room for you?" He peered over the counter at the phone and considered. He could read the reflection of her screen on the marble counter.

"But if he be sleepin' he won' like it much. He can ignore m' knock if he's sleepin'. Y' can come up wit' m', non?"

"I can't leave the desk. I'm terribly sorry."

Remy sighed tragically. "He won' never f'give m' f' interruptin' his sleepin'. I'll jus' wait in the lobby f' him t' come down f' somet'in'."

Something in the dejected set of his shoulders, melted her. "You could leave a message. Let me just go get the pad." She angled the screen down so that the reflection was clearly visible. He read the room number.

"Non, merci, chere. I just head int' the casino. He ain't the sort of man y' miss."

"If you decide to leave him a message, just come to see me."

He smiled and nodded. She pointedly ignored him as he wandered towards the bathroom next to the elevator corridor. It wasn't early enough for the guard to be checking for keys. Remy wandered past him with a group of college students about his own age who were on spring break. They ignored him. After what seemed like ages, they got off on their floor and Remy continued up two more floors. Finally, he knocked on Logan's door. The security camera watched as the door opened and the young man stepped inside, but beyond that the management didn't care that someone had made it past the downstairs personnel. As long as nothing went missing they had more important things to think about than a consensual meeting.

Remy stepped into the room and shed his coat. He'd been prepared the pick the lock. He didn't speak and neither did Logan. Then, after folding his coat over the visitor's chair Remy turned to his lover and nearly leapt into his arms. The first kiss was like a molten flow of heat between their mouths. Logan held tightly enough that he could feel the younger man's ribs against his chest. Remy gasped in a ragged breath. Logan carefully lifted off the dark glasses. "Hello, Rems."

"Alo, Logan. Missed y' some, me."

Logan chuffed out a soft laugh. "You been a good boy?"

"Always, boss." Remy pouted. He settled on his knees in front of his boss, looking up from under his bangs. Logan ruffled those same bangs gently.

"Course you are." He laughed again and Remy blushed delicately. "Eyes down and forward." The thief complied. The bracelet on his wrist seemed tighter than usual suddenly. He felt Logan's fingers carefully brush his ponytail to the side, then the red leather was firmly fastened around his throat. He tilted his chin up, proud, even as his eyes remained fixed on the floor. "Strip." Remy didn't bother with any seduction in the motions.

Logan soaked in the sight of the long limbs and tight muscles. The boy must have been working weights, there was a slight difference in the tension of his arms. He frowned suddenly. There was a nasty bruise fading on his back. Once his pet had found his proper position, hands behind his head, knees spread, the harness still holding the plug firmly in his ass, Logan studied the bruise more carefully. "What happened?"

"Hehn?"

"Don't play that with me, boy."

"I fell. It ain't nothin'."

Logan stroked and investigated every inch of the Cajun's body, but found no other signs of injury. Remy trembled slightly at the soft, careful caresses. Logan stood back. He snapped his fingers to draw the red eyes to his hand, then pointed down. His pet complied quickly, pressing his forehead to the floor. Logan pulled his suitcase out of the closet and opened it. He pulled out the items he's brought with him and the few he'd purchased in town to avoid any suspicions at the airport. The cuffs were first. He locked them on swiftly, just as a reminder. Then, he carefully wound the silk cord above the Cajun's elbows and pulled tight and tied. Now the only way out of the tie was an emergency burst of kinetic energy.

Remy bit his lip as the tie pulled his shoulders back and fixed him place. It was strange that something so simple made such a difference in his mind. Suddenly, he was helpless, even though he knew he could still fight perfectly well. Freedom was in giving Logan complete control. He abandoned his paranoia and his fear at the door. His boss would kill anything that tried to harm him. A simple wrap of rope at his wrists and the handcuffs were removed. Now, his arms were completely useless. "Up." The word penetrated the strange tangle of musings that always filled his mind at times like this. He knelt straight. Logan stroked his pet's soft lips. He grinned. "Open." He fixed the ring gag into place. Remy's eyes flashed up in pleading disbelief. Logan smirked down at him. He shook his head. The eyes found their previous spot.

Logan stroked the soft hair. "Just be good pet," he lectured. He put the "do not disturb" sign on the door handle while Remy adjusted to being a sub again. He didn't say it, but seeing the struggle to shift mindset actually made Logan a lot more comfortable with letting his pet run around the country without a chaperone. He closed the door and looked at his pet. Damn the boy looked good presented like that: his mouth open and waiting, his cock quickly hardening, collar proclaiming is status to everyone in glistening kanji. Logan swiftly continued with his plans. He didn't know how long they'd have, though he'd gotten the room for a week. He knew he'd always be able to find something to do if his boy had to leave. He fastened on the cock and ball splitter. "That's better, ain't it? No more temptation."

Remy whined and shook his head. Logan laughed. He unzipped his jeans and released his cock. He tipped his boy's chin up and plunged into his mouth. His boy's eyes widened for a moment, then he relaxed, eyes dropping closed to savor the taste and feel of the cock he had no control over. Logan tangled his fingers in the long bangs and used the hole mercilessly. He groaned and came. His pet's throat worked convulsively. Logan pulled out. He stroked the soft hair. Then, he went back to the suitcase. Remy's cock was hard and red. His body was flushed. Logan added a penis gag to the ring gag, buckling it gently, but firmly behind the Cajun's skull and under his chin. Speech was now doubly impossible. Eyes still pleading, he submitted. Logan carefully removed the harness and plug. His pet squirmed.

Remy shifted on his knees, not sure what was coming, but trying madly to control his body. Then, Logan was lifting him, carrying him over one shoulder to the bathroom. Logan left his pet on the john while he finished up preparations for the rest of the day. He'd sure as Hell give the boy something to remember. But first, he decided, the boy needed a reward. Logan cleaned up a bit, then settled his pet on the edge of the bed. A gentle hand spread Remy's legs. Then, his cock was surrounded by Logan's mouth. He tried not to scream as his boss teased him with soft licks and sharp caresses of teeth. Logan's fingers worked the cock ring free. He surrounded the boy's cock with his hand. He looked the Cajun dead in the eye. "Come," he stated. Remy came, eyes fluttering shut as he collapsed back across the bed.

Definitely, a Vegas visit to remember, Remy thought hazily as Logan's fingers worked the cock ring back into place and fixed the spreader bar to his ankles. A visit to remember.

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