Dark Legend: Fear and Lust
by
Eiluned
Disclaimer: Logan, Jean and Scott belong to Marvel, not me. But right now, I think they'd rather have Marvel write them than me. ::evil laughter:: The lyrics belong to Orgy.
Warnings: BIG ones, boys and girls. Extremely dark subject matter. Torture, sexual torture, S&M, semi-non-consensual sex, B&D, chips, dips, chains and whips. If you're of a weak disposition or are squicked easily, turn away now.
Archive: Yes, along with the other Dark Legend stories. Everyone else, just let me know where it's going first.
Notes: For Tarchannon's Dark Legend open challenge. (http://www.fandomnet.com/ghost/dark_legends.htm) I scared myself writing this. I didn't know I had it in me. Thanks to Tarch, Randy and DevilDoll for the beta reads. You guys (& gal) helped me out a lot, even if I didn't take all of your suggestions. Mwah! And thanks to divajess and Meg for the early opinions. Lyrics are from Orgy's "Stitches", on their album Candyass.
Sequel "Loathing and Lust" to follow.
Tying yourself to me
Stitch up my emptiness cause you're the death of me
So precious loving the thrill
* * *
Of all of us with the virus, Jeannie was affected the worst. At least in my opinion. It affected me the least, unless you count Hank, but I was so close to the line between man and monster that it might as well have been worse.
Jean wanders around the mansion and things levitate in her wake. I don't think she knows she's doing it. Her eyes, those beautiful green eyes of hers, are vacant. I used to be able to look into her eyes and see laughter and love and life. Now, they're empty. None of us are the same people we were before the Legend Virus hit, but Jean's a completely different woman. Sometimes, she's downright scary.
But when she came to me one night, naked and wanting, I couldn't turn her away. Even when it got violent, I couldn't turn her away, even if I wanted to. She brings out my beast, makes me go crazy. I crave the pain and discipline she metes out as much as I crave the soft touch of her body. It's as much a fight for dominance as it is sex. I keep trying to come out on top, but she beats me every time, beats me into submission.
I never dreamed I'd want it so much. Or enjoy it so goddamn much.
I want to kneel at her feet and be her slave more than I want to dominate her.
That fucking scares me.
* * *
Such the patient one who needs me
The spoiled one who wins
So shocking where's your sense
Don't you know I hate you
Unsatisfied, you little girl.
* * *
I had finally won back a bit of control through hours of meditation when I felt it -- a pull deep in the primitive part of my brain. A compulsion.
Jean was calling.
I rose from the mat like I was pulled to my feet by strings and began walking toward her room. She was in my head, whispering things I couldn't understand. I could feel how much she wanted me, wanted to hurt me and fuck me and in her own twisted way, love me. I followed the compulsion because I couldn't make myself ignore it.
I didn't want to fight it anyway.
The door swung open before I could touch it, so I entered her room, blinking in the sudden darkness. The door closed behind me. No escape.
That first time, she tied me down and stuck scalpels into me, letting me heal around them before ripping them out. I fought and begged but still came all over myself, cursing at her and screaming her name. She stood over me with the tiniest of smiles on her face, her eyes like empty windows. Then, she left.
The next night, she came to my room, dressed only in a pair of thigh-high black boots, her red hair loose around her shoulders, smelling like heat and sex. Part of me wanted to tell her to go away until she got her mind back, but I didn't. I wanted her and everything she had to give to me.
I tried to fight her, but she held me down with her mind and cuffed my hands together, hooking the chain onto my headboard. I growled at her, feeling my beast rattling at its bars, begging to be let out so it could rip into that perfect white skin of hers.
She straddled my thighs and, looking down at me, pulled two clamps on a thin chain out of the top of her boot. Next came a leather band with snaps all the way around it. My cock wasn't hard yet, which seemed to please her. Laying the clamps on my belly, she took my awakening genitals in one and and wrapped the cock ring around the base of my penis and under my balls. A couple of snaps and it was right, restraining. She flicked her fingertips over the head of my cock, and I started to stiffen, clenching my teeth when the extra snaps bit into the thin skin. She played with me until I was completely erect, then took her hands away, looking down at my groin.
I followed her gaze and saw my dick standing nearly straight out, flushed purple, engorged with blood. She licked her pink lips and for a second, I thought that she was going to suck me off, but she merely shifted forward, letting my cock rest against her neatly-shaved pubic hair. Her skin was cool against my fevered flesh, and I could feel the damp heat of her cunt against my thighs.
To my surprise, she bent forward, pressing my cock against her soft, flat stomach, and locked her lips around my right nipple. I cried out at the sudden pleasure, arching my back. She sucked hungrily, nipping, then trailed her tongue across the center of my chest to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment. I was so surprised by the painless pleasure that I hardly felt the delicate chain trail across my stomach.
She pressed the cool metal clamp against my right nipple, then latched it on. I howled, nearly coming off of the bed, the chains around my wrists the only thing keeping me down. I struggled, but she held me down with her mind again, her left hand idly stroking my cock. It took a long moment, but the pain subsided, leaving a dull ache that was almost pleasurable. I was better prepared for the second clamp, but the pain still brought stinging tears to my eyes.
I was whimpering, and I hated myself for that. I jerked against the handcuffs until I heard the wooden headboard crack. She hushed me, ran a soothing hand over my stomach and touched my cheek gently.
That brought me up short. She hadn't done anything gentle in months. I made myself open my eyes and look at her. She had a curious expression on her face, like she was feeling something familiar, but couldn't figure out what it was.
Almost as soon as I saw it, it was gone, replaced by her usual icy blankness. She sat over me for a long moment, staring at me with those empty eyes. I stared right back, breathing heavily. I'm not sure if that was the best thing to do, because every breath brought her scent into my nose. She smelled like leather and sweat and soap and sex. The scent was so strong I could practically taste her pussy on the back of my tongue. My mind started to haze up, until I was looking at her through a tunnel of fog. I was losing control of myself. I could feel my beast hovering right at the surface, just waiting for the perfect moment to explode out of me.
Her cool gaze never changing, she reached down and tugged on the chain between my nipples.
I lost my mind.
The handcuff chain snapped, freeing my arms, and I grabbed Jean before she had a chance to react. She didn't fight me, just let me shove her onto her back, spreading those leather-clad thighs wide around my hips. The soft leather rubbed at my skin, and my senses went into overload. The world narrowed to the feel of her boots in my hands and against my thighs, the smell of her cunt -- of her fear, the sound of her heartbeat pounding in my ears.
My dick was throbbing, straining against the cock ring. I surged forward, on top of her, forcing my tongue into her sweet mouth, tasting her. Her hands pushed feebly at my shoulders, but I knew she wanted it. I could feel her in my mind like a heavy weight, and she was intrigued. I mounted her, rutting like an animal, drowning in the feel and smell of her, the quiet sounds she made, hating her and loving her all at once.
I put my hands on her breasts, squeezing them tightly, enjoying the feel of petal-soft skin against my own rough palms. Her nipples were hard, and I pinched them hard enough to bruise, eating at her mouth, swallowing a sharp cry as it fell from her lips. Her cunt was so wet and tight around me; I thought I might die from the feel of it. My balls were aching, trying to contract against my body but held out by the cock ring. I had to come soon, or I would die. Or I'd lose my mind completely.
I grabbed hold of her wrists and pinned her arms above her head, feeling the delicate bones grind against each other in my grip. She whimpered very softly, and I snarled. I was in control. Her body was my plaything, not the other way around. I could fuck her until she passed out, until I'd filled her up with my cum, until she finally broke that goddamn silence and begged for me to stop. Bracing myself, I pumped into her, pounding her, wincing and moaning with every thrust.
Dimly, I wondered why she hadn't used her telekinesis to break loose, but I was too far gone, too feral to really comprehend it.
God, I never imagined anything could feel that good. She'd teased me and tormented me, bringing me off with her hands and her mind, but she'd never actually fucked me before. I'd wanted her for years. This wasn't how I'd hoped it would finally happen, but I was going to hold onto anything I could get.
I backed away from her lips, watched her cold eyes slip shut, watched pleasure start to dawn across her face. Her arms twisted in my grip, her body writhing underneath mine, her head tossed back, leaving her slender, pale neck bare.
Her pulse was fast and loud, and I could almost feel it on my tongue. Releasing her hands, I put mine over her throat, covering the big pulse to keep myself from sinking fangs into it. I could smell the hot blood under her skin, and I wanted to feel it flowing over my tongue, taste the coppery salt as it flowed down my throat.
Her mouth fell open, a soft moan escaping her lips. She was close; I could smell the sharp scent of her arousal in the air, thick as smoke. Looking down at her, with her fire-red hair spilling over the sheets, her face screwed up with pleasure, I could think only one thing.
'Jean. I'm fucking Jean.'
It ran through my brain over and over like a desperate mantra.
Her soft hands held my wrists at her throat, touched my chest, nails digging in deep enough to draw blood. I snarled at her and her eyes opened. It was like the emptiness had cleared and a part of Jean, the Jean that I knew, was looking back at me. It was the part of her I saw when I made suggestive comments, the part of her that would gaze at me with heated eyes when she thought I wasn't looking.
Her hands trailed over my pecs and brushed against the nipple clamps.
My groin suddenly tightened like she'd put a vise on it. I rammed my cock into her as deep as it would go and held it there. She cried out, a loud, throaty sound, and her cunt contracted around me. Her fingernails bit into my skin, scrabbling at my shoulders, clawing me as she came. I let out a howl of ecstasy, her orgasm spurring mine. I moved my hands from her neck to keep from strangling her, though my beast lusted for blood and death almost as much as it did for her body.
I collapsed down on top of her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. The nipple clamps bumped against her breasts, sending a shock of pain through my system. Starved for release, I thrust into her one last time.
I'd never had an orgasm that powerful. I could feel it from my head to my feet, rippling through my cock in mind-bending waves. I came forever, shooting spurt after spurt of cum deep inside of her. The pain from the nipple clamps and her nails digging into my shoulders, just made it more intense and prolonged it until I could barely breathe. I could feel my semen seeping out of her onto my thighs, and it made my head spin. She was mine, even if it was just for this moment.
It finally subsided and I pushed myself up onto shaky arms. My vision and my head cleared, and I saw her lying underneath me, breathing heavily, her leather-clad thighs spread across my hips, a strange look on her face. A perfect ring of teethmarks graced her neck, four points dripping blood from where my fangs had pierced her skin. Blood dripped from the healing scratches on my shoulders and landed on her alabaster skin, crimson drops splattered over her breasts.
Looking me in the eyes, she ran a finger over her breast, gathering my blood on the tip, and then licked it off. Growling, I bent down and ran my tongue up her neck, tasting her salty-sweet blood, feeling my sated beast begin to wake again. She kissed me briefly, and I slid down and licked her breasts clean, sucking on her nipples, enjoying the way she writhed underneath me.
Suddenly, I was on my back, pinned to the bed by her mind. She rose up on her knees and straddled my thighs, unsnapping the cock ring. I breathed a sigh of relief and moaned when she cupped my hardening dick in her hand, stroking me to erection again. Instead of mounting me, though, she let go of my cock and gently unfastened the nipple clamps. I hissed, and she made those soothing sounds again. The handcuffs popped off of my wrists, and she got off of the bed, standing over me with a peculiar look on her face. She bent down and kissed me chastely on the lips, then left my room, leaving me to listen to the click of her heels as they got farther and farther away.
I rolled over and jerked off, screaming wordlessly into my pillow, pounding the mattress with my fists. I popped my claws and shredded the headboard. I could still smell her, taste her, feel myself inside of her. Our blood was mingled on my sheets. This would haunt me until the end of my days.
I loved her, even like this, and I craved the pain and pleasure like a drug. And I hated myself for it.
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