Touch
folder
X-men Comics › Slash - Male/Male › Remy/Logan
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,826
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
X-men Comics › Slash - Male/Male › Remy/Logan
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,826
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own X-Men comics, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.
Touch
Remy moaned softly, whimpering at the feel of the cold air on his bare chest and pebbled nipples. It was the middle of winter and there was no heat on in the boathouse. That had been Logan’s doing, not Remy’s. Masochist though he was, even he drew the line somewhere.
His feet were cold too, he realized with a shiver. He was barefoot and even though only the balls of his feet were touching the wooden floor, the chill was making his toes numb.
His breath hung in brief clouds as he shivered in his bonds. He was wearing nothing but a pair of soft black leather pants, a posture collar and a pair of sturdy suspension cuffs on his wrists and he was freezing.
His fingers were starting to go numb from lack of circulation and cold and he wond whd when Logan would return. He took comfort in the fact that he could escape if necessary, but he would only do that in an emergency. No, he was too well trained to attempt to get away without a damn good reason.
Closing his eyes with a sigh, he forced himself to relax, to turn inward and to wait for his Master’s return. Moments later, he jumped at the feel of warm fingers tracing the scars on both sides of his ribs. He could feel hot breath on his neck as the fingers slowly traced each of the scars…three on each side, straight, parallel lines, slightly raised. Marks of ownership.
Remy knew who he belonged to. He belonged to the man currently caressing him…the man whose claws perfectly matched the straight white lines traversing his ribs. His Master. His lover. His everything.
He was careful to remain quiet. If his Master wanted him to speak, he would tell him. Oh, but he wanted to speak, to beg, so badly. Wanting, needing, trembling…waiting.
Soon enough, obe obedience was rewarded. He felt his Master’s hands reaching around to undo his pants, sliding them off his hips. The sensation was wonderful and horrible at the same time…his cock sprung free, rock hard and dripping and he moaned at the conflicting sensations: hot and cold, rough and smooth, relief and agony.
He could feel the rate of his Master’s breathing increase against the back of his neck…could feel the dark need rolling off of him. His Master wanted him. Oh yes, wanted to hurt him, love him, wanted…him.
He knew what was coming. He welcomed it. The first blow still came as a shock, though. It always did. The hand was hard and unforgiving against his bare ass and he stifled a cry. No gag tonight, he was being rewarded and he wouldn’t disobey.
The blows came hard and fast, one right afteotheother. His cock was throbbing. He was so desperately close to the edge. Please. Now. Take me. He screamed these inside his head, while outwardly he was silent, obedient.
His Master took pity on him. Strong hands steadied his hips. A thick, hard cock was pressed up against his abused ass. He stifled a cry as he was entered…so good, so hot and think and…he sunk his teeth into his lip and felt his Master do the same to his shoulder, ruthlessly slamming into him at the same time.
His Master reached around, taking his straining, desperate cock in hand and stroked him in time with his savage thrusts. Close, he was so close. Just…a…little…more.
“Come for met, pet. I wanna hear you screaming for it,” came the growled command, hot in his ear. His Master’s thrusts were harder now…ragged. It was all too much and….
He whimpered, then howled. “Oui, oui, Maître! S’il vous plaît!” Crying and screaming and coming in long throbbing spurts. Teeth sunk hard into his abused shoulder once again as his Master sunk himself to the hilt and exploded into his aching ass.
He screamed deliriously as his Master came, wailing and whimpering and bucking and coming so hard it hurt. The edges of his vision were beginning to go dim and he gratefully surrendered.
“Love ya, pet,” he heard through the haze and smiled as the darkness claimed him.
END
His feet were cold too, he realized with a shiver. He was barefoot and even though only the balls of his feet were touching the wooden floor, the chill was making his toes numb.
His breath hung in brief clouds as he shivered in his bonds. He was wearing nothing but a pair of soft black leather pants, a posture collar and a pair of sturdy suspension cuffs on his wrists and he was freezing.
His fingers were starting to go numb from lack of circulation and cold and he wond whd when Logan would return. He took comfort in the fact that he could escape if necessary, but he would only do that in an emergency. No, he was too well trained to attempt to get away without a damn good reason.
Closing his eyes with a sigh, he forced himself to relax, to turn inward and to wait for his Master’s return. Moments later, he jumped at the feel of warm fingers tracing the scars on both sides of his ribs. He could feel hot breath on his neck as the fingers slowly traced each of the scars…three on each side, straight, parallel lines, slightly raised. Marks of ownership.
Remy knew who he belonged to. He belonged to the man currently caressing him…the man whose claws perfectly matched the straight white lines traversing his ribs. His Master. His lover. His everything.
He was careful to remain quiet. If his Master wanted him to speak, he would tell him. Oh, but he wanted to speak, to beg, so badly. Wanting, needing, trembling…waiting.
Soon enough, obe obedience was rewarded. He felt his Master’s hands reaching around to undo his pants, sliding them off his hips. The sensation was wonderful and horrible at the same time…his cock sprung free, rock hard and dripping and he moaned at the conflicting sensations: hot and cold, rough and smooth, relief and agony.
He could feel the rate of his Master’s breathing increase against the back of his neck…could feel the dark need rolling off of him. His Master wanted him. Oh yes, wanted to hurt him, love him, wanted…him.
He knew what was coming. He welcomed it. The first blow still came as a shock, though. It always did. The hand was hard and unforgiving against his bare ass and he stifled a cry. No gag tonight, he was being rewarded and he wouldn’t disobey.
The blows came hard and fast, one right afteotheother. His cock was throbbing. He was so desperately close to the edge. Please. Now. Take me. He screamed these inside his head, while outwardly he was silent, obedient.
His Master took pity on him. Strong hands steadied his hips. A thick, hard cock was pressed up against his abused ass. He stifled a cry as he was entered…so good, so hot and think and…he sunk his teeth into his lip and felt his Master do the same to his shoulder, ruthlessly slamming into him at the same time.
His Master reached around, taking his straining, desperate cock in hand and stroked him in time with his savage thrusts. Close, he was so close. Just…a…little…more.
“Come for met, pet. I wanna hear you screaming for it,” came the growled command, hot in his ear. His Master’s thrusts were harder now…ragged. It was all too much and….
He whimpered, then howled. “Oui, oui, Maître! S’il vous plaît!” Crying and screaming and coming in long throbbing spurts. Teeth sunk hard into his abused shoulder once again as his Master sunk himself to the hilt and exploded into his aching ass.
He screamed deliriously as his Master came, wailing and whimpering and bucking and coming so hard it hurt. The edges of his vision were beginning to go dim and he gratefully surrendered.
“Love ya, pet,” he heard through the haze and smiled as the darkness claimed him.
END