MGB A Price to Be Paid

"Hey, kiddo."

"Hey, cher." Remy shifted so that Logan could join him on the couch in the library. Remy was reading _Madame_Bovary_ at the professor's behest and not really getting into it. He snuggled up to his lover's side. Logan put an arm around Remy's shoulders.

"We made a deal the other night. Remember?"

Remy marked his place. He thought, a small frown creasing his brow. "Non, I don' remember."

Logan snorted. He whispered into Remy's ear. "I let ya come in exchange fer the right to know about any scar on yer body without reservation. Remember?"

"Y' can't hold a body responsible f' somethin' promised under duress."

"I can always just collar ya and ask ya."

"Remy'll talk."

"He'd better."

"Not here. The walls got ears."

"The woods then. Meet ya out back in thirty. Be ready fer the night."

"Sure t'ing."

"Get a sweater. It's cold out."

"Oui, cher." Remy rolled his eyes. He went up to fetch a heavy sweater from his room. He really needed to finish moving into Logan's room, but Logan's room was full enough already. He went to the toilet and brushed his teeth. He pulled on the soft blue sweater Logan had given him, then located his hiking boots in the mud room. He met Logan on the back porch. Logan had a bag over his shoulder. Remy raised a brow. The Canadian just grinned at him.

"Come on, boy."

They wandered deep into the woods, the leaves barely rustling as they passed. It got darker as they reached the inner parts of the forest -- the place that only Logan ever ventured. Remy eased closer to his boss' side and received a reassuring arm around his waist. They eventually reached the small cave that served as Logan's den when he needed to get away. Logan sniffed, then growled. He urine marked the front. Remy watched, unsure of his reaction. He couldn't decide if it was horrifying or simply Wolverine being himself. Logan winked. "I'd mark ya, if I thought it'd do any good. Home sweet cave." He bowed, gesturing inside. Remy picked his way in carefully, eyes adjusting easily to the lack of light.

Logan followed him in, blocking the entrance with his bulk. Remy settled in the dry leaves. He wrapped his arms around his knees. The sleeve of his sweater pulled up, exposing Logan's claiming bracelet. Remy looked through the curtain of his bangs as Logan settled, lotus position, in front of the door.

"Tell me about the scar on the back of yer head. The one behind yer ear."

Remy reached up to touch the scar in confirmation. Logan nodded. The thief went pale. "Y' sure y' want t' hear about that one?"

"Yes."

Remy swallowed. He started to rock as he gathered his thoughts. "Remy's powers didn't stop growin'. When he was seventeen, he killt a man by lookin' at him. Then, when he was eighteen and too scared t' even eat, he brought a buildin' down on his head. Don't rightly remember much except M. Essex pickin' me up like fine china. He put Remy back t'gether and tamed down his powers with a lil' bit of surgery. That's what left the scar."

"Sinister?" Logan growled. Remy curled up into a tighter ball waiting for the blow that never fell. "We gotta get Hank to check ya out, Rems."

Remy shook his head. "Not the lab. I hate it, cher!"

Logan simply watched him.

"Logan, Remy's fine. Honest. I wanted him to do it. Hated m' powers. Couldn't control them. They was killin' me!"

"Don't mean he didn't throw in some extras while he was at it."

Remy didn’t respond, just rocked. He didn't have many secrets from Logan now, but he'd hoped he'd be able to keep some.

"You've got to tell Scott."

"Non! He'll t'row this sorry boy's ass out."

"Darlin', this ain't up fer negotiation. He's got to know. Better to be up front about it." Logan moved closer. "And don’t' worry that pretty head of yers, Remy. Yer mine. I ain't lettin' go. I don't give a fuck what One-Eye says. I've got a place. If it comes down to it, I'll take ya there. Yer more important to me than anything Cyke says."

Remy looked up, eyes glowing in the darkness. "Logan, I don't want t' be the reason y' leave this place. It's y'r home."

"It's ain't home if you ain't here. But we ain't goin' to borrow trouble. We're gonna get Hank's read on yer head. Then, we're gonna talk with Cyke."

"Logan?"

"Yeah?" Logan stroked the silken hair of his mate.

"I'm scared."

Logan gathered the Cajun into his arms. They stayed like that for a long moment. "Yer mine. I ain't gonna let anythin' happen to ya."

"promise?"

"Promise." Remy sighed and snuggled into the embrace. He let Logan's concern fill his mind, easing his fear.

"What's in the bag?"

"Nosy brat. You ever heard what curiosity did to the cat?"

"Oui, but satisfaction done brought him back."

"Don't know if satisfaction's in the game plan."

Remy pouted. "Y're cruel."

"Yep. Before I open this, you gotta answer me a question."

Remy looked attentively at the Canadian.

"You ready to play some?"

The Acadian grinned. "Always, M. Logan."

Logan snorted. "Then get on yer knees facin' the inside." Remy shifted to his knees, hands at the back of his neck. Logan opened his bag of tricks. He opened Remy's jeans and pulled them down to his knees. He greased up his favorite plug and pressed it home. Remy squirmed. Logan growled at him, then smacked his ass sharply.

"Be good, pet. I ain't got patience fer yer sass today." The plug settled in with a pop. The cock ring and ball splitter went on next. Then, Logan pulled the thief's jeans back up. "Sit back on yer heels." Logan secured Remy's wrists behind him with his pinned shackles. The hated ring gag came next, followed by a scarf gag formed by a knot in the center of the length of silk that Logan compressed through the ring before tying the ends firmly at the base of Remy's skull. A wide stiff, black collar Remy didn't recognize circled his throat minimizing his head's movement. Logan directed the Cajun to the ledge he used for sleeping when he was out hunting. Remy laid down on the cool stone, eyes wide, wrists screaming. His boss worked quickly, locking the slender ankles together with chain, then turning the Cajun onto his stomach. He connected ankles to wrists. Then he connected wrists to the metal ring he used for the lantern. Remy couldn’t move much once Logan added a chain from his ankles to his throat up, under the front of his body. A blindfold finished things off.

"I'm goin' huntin'. You stay here, pet."

Remy struggled until he proved to himself it was useless. The cold of the stone seeped through his sweater. His cock was semi-erect, the fear of discovery keeping him on edge. And he wasn't worried about team members finding him either. He could hear the chittering of squirrels and his almost forgotten fear of rodents clawed free. He renewed his struggles, then froze hearing Logan's cry echoing through the night air. His master had caught something. That meant he'd be coming back soon. Excitement eased the burn of restricted muscles.

Logan field dressed the deer with his claws. He chewed on the heart absently as he worked. Then, he hauled it back to his den. He hung the deer from the tree and went inside. He lapped at the trickle of sweat on his mate's temple. He tugged on the metal restraints, finding them firm. They would keep his mate from falling or running off to find another. He tucked himself over his mate and fell asleep, teeth imbedded in the soft flesh of his mate's shoulder that the too big sweater exposed.

Remy squirmed. His breathing was heavy through his nose. He wasn't used to such firm bonds for overnight unless he'd gotten in trouble. But it was obvious from his boss' heavy, even breaths that he was asleep. Enclosed in his dark, restricted world, Remy forced himself to sleep, cock still hard. Logan's knee shifted against the plug. Remy arched up for more, but the pressure remained steady. Eventually, he slept.

Logan woke quickly, as was his wont. He stroked down his pet's back, then toyed with the plug. Remy's hips were moving before he was even awake. Logan laughed at him, then went to prep some venison for breakfast. He let his pet sit up. He removed the gags gently and massaged feeling back into the Cajun's jaw. He fed his boy dainty bites until he heard the rumbling stomach quiet. Then, he replaced the ring gag.

"I ought to leave ya here," he said, locking the chain to its tether once more. "Teach ya not to keep secrets." Remy's squirmed. He fought the gag in his mouth. "Don't make me put the other one back in." The Cajun froze, mewling piteously. "See ya in a few. Take a piss if ay want. I don't mind it."

Logan might not, but Remy did mind. He minded losing control. He focused on the discomfort of the plug in his ass. He wished for Logan's speedy return. Logan did return half an hour later. His cock grew hard as he looked over his pet's predicament. He peered into the bag for the last of the equipment he'd brought. He fastened on the nipple clamps, then smoothed down the boy's sweater. He used the last lock to lock the collar to the wall, forcing Remy to sit with his legs outstretched on the ledge. The chain from his ankles pressed between his ass cheeks and against the plug. A pleasing flush was in his cheeks.

Logan used the jacked open mouth, emptying his load quickly. His healing factor made sure that his stamina was never an issue and his cock was soon hard again. His pet needed claiming and he was more than willing to provide that. He reinserted the silk gag, then unchained the Cajun's legs. He left the collar locked where it was. He opened his boy's fly and stroked the firm flesh he found there. He stroked at the slow, maddening pace he only used on his pet. Remy's hips worked with the motion. He screamed in frustration when Logan stopped. Logan removed the blindfold. He locked a chain to the front of the collar as a leash, then, unlocked the collar from the wall. He led his pet outside. He pushed him to his knees. "Yer gonna stay here till ya piss," Logan informed him, locking the chain around a tree trunk. A second chain connected ankles to wrists, forcing Remy's low kneel. The cock ring bit at the base of Remy's hard cock. The air was cool and sharp with the start of autumn. Remy didn't notice the fresh smell of the earth or the fallen leaves beneath his knees. All he could make himself aware of was Logan's orders and the strain on his shoulders and the pain that radiated up from his shoulder-blades. The collar kept his chin raised up and he couldn't see his own straining cock, only the sunlight filtering through the trees.

"Need a hand there, pet?" Logan asked, settling behind him. He released the cock ring and stroked Remy's cock. Remy couldn't help but come under the stimulation. The urine came a few minutes later. Logan looked down at his terrified pet with a stern frown. "Ya weren’t allowed to come were ya?" Remy couldn't move his head, but he dropped his eyes and tried to curl over in submission. "Ring'll have to stay on all day to prevent accidents."

Remy flushed. His cock would show all day in these jeans. That was, if Logan even meant to let him leave the little den. For all he knew, Cyke had cut a deal with the Canadian to keep Remy from leaving the grounds while the Antiquary was around. Logan installed the ring and freed the Cajun's ankles. He took up the leash and led Remy back to the den. "I'm gonna take out yer gag now. If yer a good boy, I won't put it back in."

Remy licked his lips. Logan removed the stiff collar and replaced it with the soft brown leather he'd first trained his pet to. He kissed him gently. "Put that pretty mouth of yers to work." Remy knelt at Logan's feet. Logan opened his pants. Remy sucked at Logan's cock with none of his usual teasing. Logan wasn't in the mood for fancy. Logan's orgasm crashed into Remy's mind, torturing his pet's cock. Remy lapped at the head of Logan's cock, cleaning it until his boss pushed him away. "Gonna keep ya out of trouble fer now," Logan stated. He wound the chain around his pet's legs from ankles to knees, then locked him into proper choirboy position with wrists connected to ankles. "Might as well pray while yer in position. It's Sunday after all." Logan tweaked Remy's nose and went to roam the woods.

Remy did end up praying -- for release as his cock pressed hard and weeping against the rough zipper of his jeans.

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