Rogue was engrossed in one of her favorite novels when the door opened; she knew it'd be Logan, since no one but him ever walked into their bedroom without knocking, so she finished the paragraph she was reading before she looked up. Sure enough, there he stood, hair windblown from his motorcycle ride, brown paper bag in hand - he'd been shopping, apparently - and a small smile curved his finely-shaped mouth appealingly. He looked good enough to eat, and she set her book aside to greet him.

"Hi, sugah." She came over and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning up to plant a kiss on his still-smiling mouth.

"Hi." He gestured with the bag. "Gotcha somethin'. Few things, actually."

Her face lit up - it wasn't often that he brought her presents, and when he did, they usually turned out to be damned interesting, in one way or another. She grinned, thinking of the red lace nightie he'd brought her the last time, and the flavored massage oil he'd brought the time before that. "Oooo. Gimme."

He chuckled and set the bag down on the bed, then took his leather jacket off. "Whoa there - one at a time, darlin'. Gotta save some stuff fer later."

She nodded. "Uh huh. Sure. So what'd ya bring me?"

He reached into the bag and pulled out... an egg. At least, that's what it looked like. It was about the same size and shape as a large chicken's egg, appeared to be made entirely out of silver, and had a small black loop of plastic cord hanging from one end. "This, fer one."

She blinked. "Oookay... So what's it do, hatch platinum pantyhose?"

For a response, he looped an arm around her waist and hauled her over to him for a kiss; his tongue explored her mouth, his breath hot on her cheek, the stubble on his chin and upper lip scratching across her tender skin; it wasn't long before she was weak-kneed and hanging onto his shoulders, and then she felt his hand creeping up under her skirt.

"Oooh," she gasped, "your hand's cold."

"Knew I shoulda worn some gloves to ride that bike," he chuckled, stroking her through the thin satin of her panties. "You'll warm me up, won'tcha, darlin'?"

His cool fingers eased the material aside and slipped into her slick folds, making her whimper. "Mmm... Logan.."

"Shh," he answered, pushing two fingers into her. "Already wet for me, aren'tcha, baby?"

She hummed a little affirmative sound against his mouth, tracing his lower lip with her tongue, and whimpered again when his fingers suddenly left off what they'd been doing. "Why'd you...?"

"Hush," he replied, his sharp tone surprising her. "Got somethin' else to keep ya busy."

Her eyes flew open wide as she felt the cool, smooth surface of the egg-thing against her skin. "Logan...!"

"Hush." He carefully pushed the little metal object into her tight opening, feeling her body straining to accomodate its wide shape, and used a fingertip to nudge it the rest of the way in until only the little black loop remained outside her body. "There. How's that feel?"

"Big," she answered honestly, wriggling her hips to try and situate the thing in a more comfortable spot. "Ah feel... full."

"Good," he said with a grin, and stepped back a bit to hold up another object that resembled the keychain Ororo used to unlock her car. "Know what this is?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Tell me this thing you just put in me ain't some kinda burglar alarm. 'Cause if we go out and Ah hear a 'beep-beep' before we go into a bar or somethin', Ah might be inclined to think you don't trust me."

He laughed. "Nope."

She frowned. "Then what--"

He pressed the button on the keychain, and she forgot what she was going to ask. She forgot where she was. Hell, she might've even forgotten her fucking name.

"Remote-controlled vibrator," he said, a wicked little smirk crossing his face as he watched her expression go from shock to ecstasy. "Works up to fifty feet. Damn powerful, too."

Her knees gave out on her, and she had to lie back on the bed. "Uh huh..."

His thumb flicked a little wheel on the side of the remote, and she shrieked with delight, arching up off the mattress. "Got variable speed, too."

"Oh... oh... good... good present... like this one... mmmm...." She tugged her shirt up to her armpits, her hands caressing her breasts through the satin cups of her bra.

He lay down on the bed beside her, grinning. "Like it enough to play with it a while?"

"Oh... oh yeah... mmm... Jesus, Logan..."

"You wanna play a little game with me, darlin'?"

She slid a hand down into her panties to rub her clit, seeing as how he didn't seem inclined to do it for her at the moment; the vibration was driving her half mad, and if she didn't get some proper friction, she knew she wasn't going to be able to come. "What kinda game?" she asked, mind not really on the conversation.

To her vast annoyance, he caught her wrist and took her hand out of her panties, preventing her from getting any further. "A game I'm runnin'."

She glared at him as best she could with glassy, lust-filled eyes and licked her lips. "In a minute." She thrust her free hand down, and he pocketed the remote to catch that one, too.

"Right now, darlin', or not at all."

She could've killed him. "Oh, c'mon, Logan, please, Ah..."

He released her hands and took out the remote, then pushed the button and shut off the egg. "My game, my rules. You in or not?"

She huffed angrily. "If Ah say Ah'm in, do Ah get to get off?"

He smiled, looking every bit like a wolf sizing up a plump little lamb. "Sure."

"Then Ah'm in. Now turn the damn thing back on!"

He pressed the little button again, and she yelped. "Oh, yeah..." She reached down to rub her clit, and again he stopped her.

"Like I said, baby - my game, my rules. And rule number one is, you don't get off until I say you can."

Her eyes widened in shock, which he found both hilarious and intensely gratifying. "But... but... you said..."

"I said you'd get to get off. I just didn't say when."

"Oh, for God's sake, Logan, you can't just leave me like this! C'mon, sugah, just touch me, please? Pleeease, baby?" She rolled onto her side to rub up against him, trying to coax his hand down between her thighs.

He chuckled and pulled her bra cups aside to nibble and tweak her hard nipples, his tongue delightfully warm against her skin. "Anything you want, darlin'." She started to reach down again, and he growled, nipping at her a bit more harshly than she would've liked. "Put yer hands up here, on my shoulders."

She moaned. "Oh, come on..."

He drew one rosy nipple into his mouth and teased it with his sharp teeth, making her writhe with pleasure. "Do it," he rumbled, holding up the remote, "or I'm shuttin' it off."

She huffed again, but did as she was told, and was rewarded when he flicked the dial up a little higher. "Ah! God!"

"Name's Logan," he chuckled, rolling a nipple between his fingers and sucking the opposite one.

"Oh, you know what Ah... oh.. oh, yeah...." She threw her leg up over his hip, frantically rubbing against his denim-clad thigh. "Oh, yeah... oh...oh!"

He could feel her moist heat even through his jeans, and it took every bit of control he had not to rip her clothes off and fuck her right then and there, and to hell with the game. "Feel good, sweetheart?"

"Oh, oh, yeah... oh, fuck, Logan... shit, yeah, just... like that... oh, God, God, Ah'm gonna..."

He pressed the button, and the vibration abruptly stopped. "Uh uh, darlin'."

"You prick!" she exclaimed, eyes flashing, cheeks pink. "Ah'm not gonna--"

He pushed the button again, and her eyes fluttered shut. "My game, baby, my rules. You still in? 'Cause all ya hafta do is say the word, and I'll have that egg outta there in a flash, and we don't hafta play anymore if ya don't want to."

She groaned and flopped back on the bed, chest heaving. "If mah legs weren't jelly right now, you know Ah'd be kickin' your evil ass from here to Manhattan, right?"

He leaned over her and caught one delectable nipple in his mouth again, flicking the dial on the remote up two more notches. "You behave, and I'll make it worth yer while. Promise."

She moaned, knotting her fingers in his hair. "Ohhh, fuck, you better..."

His watch beeped. "Aw, shit," he said, leaving off to sit up and glare not at all menacingly at his wrist. "It's almost dinnertime."

She gaped at him, reminding him of a goldfish. "Wh- what!?"

He eyed her coolly. "Ain't it yer turn to help set the table?"

She tried to sit up, but the egg's bulk prevented it, so she rolled over onto her side and propped herself up on one arm - which amused him to no end. "You gotta be kiddin' me."

"Do I look like I'm kiddin'?"

"You look like you're about to eat me alive," she cried, frustrated beyond belief. "You're enjoyin' every second of this, ain'tcha!?"

He shut the egg off and stood up. "C'mon, I'm hungry, and if you're late fer dish duty again, Storm's gonna have yer ass in a sling."

She raised up onto her knees and reached out to knead his rather obvious erection. "C'mon, sugah, forget dinner... please, baby? Ah want you so bad..." She cupped a breast with her free hand, rolling her hips forward against his leg. "Please, Logan... please fuck me?"

He wrapped a hand around the back of her head and kissed her until they were both gasping for air, then stepped back. "C'mon. I hear we're havin' spaghetti."

Her face flushed with anger and embarrassment, and she got up, glaring daggers at him. "Fine," she snapped, straightening her clothes; storming past him, she stomped out the door, her ponytail whipping about animatedly. "See you at dinner!"

He waited about five seconds for her to get down the hall a good ways, then pressed the button again.

"Ah!" she shrieked, and there was a thump, as though she'd just knocked over a plant stand or something.

He sauntered out into the hall, the remote dangling from his index finger. "Did I mention it works through walls?"

**********

Dinner was interesting, to say the least.

Kurt was talking rather excitedly about his trip to Sweden, and about the mutants he'd met there; Ororo was politely listening and nodding, nibbling daintily at her pasta; Hank was apparently vastly interested in Kurt's story, only interrupting occasionally to ask questions; Pete was packing away the food like only a colossus could; Bobby and Kitty were making google-eyes at each other over the basket of bread rolls; and Rogue was doing her damndest not to let anybody find out she had a turbo-powered vibrator nestled between her legs and a wicked bastard of a boyfriend with the remote control.

Logan leaned over to her and whispered in her ear, "You need anything, darlin'?"

"You know what Ah need," she hissed back, gracelessly hacking one of her rolls in half with her table knife.

"Rogue?" She looked up to see Hank regarding her solicitously. "Are you all right, my dear?"

"Ah'm fine," she answered, a bit snappishly, and hacked the other hapless dinner roll in twain.

"That why you're hurting food?" Kitty asked, hoping her innocent expression of concern hid the fact that she was massaging Bobby's crotch under the table with her toes.

"Ah'm fine," Rogue blurted, turning pink. "Really! Ah'm just tryin' to eat, here!"

She was attempting to butter one of her mangled rolls when Logan hit the button on the innocuous-looking keychain hanging from his belt loop.

"Shit!" She stabbed straight through the bread, crumbs flying everywhere, and dropped her knife into her broccoli.

Logan wiped his mouth with his napkin, hoping the linen would be big enough to hide his smug grin. "You okay, darlin'?" he asked, as soon as he could speak again.

She turned to look at him, and if looks could kill, he'd have died the previous Tuesday. "Ah'm fine, sugah. Just peachy keen."

He pressed the button again, and she visibly relaxed. "Just wonderin'," he said, as nonchalantly as possible. "Ya seem a little edgy."

"Gee, Ah wonder why," she mumbled, twirling spaghetti around her fork.

Conversation returned to normal, the various chit-chats resuming, and Rogue was lifting a forkful of pasta to her mouth - when Logan hit the button again.

"OH, mah--" The spaghetti fell off the cutlery and landed with a splat in her lap, the red sauce staining her favorite green skirt; she turned and presented Logan with The Glare of Death, then got up, pushing her chair in sharply. "Ah'm sorry," she told her dinner companions, who were all staring curiously at her - except one, who was grinning like the smug bastard he was. "Ah'm not real hungry tonight - Ah'll catch somethin' later." With that, she turned and hurried out, the door swinging shut behind her.

Everybody turned to stare at Logan. "What?" he asked, trying to appear as innocent as possible while pressing the button to shut the egg off.

"Don't you think you'd better go after her?" Ororo asked, being as subtly bossy as she could be.

He considered letting Rogue stew for a while, then thought better of it - after all, she might manage to get herself off if he left her alone too long, and that would kill the game. "Yeah, you're right." He got up, dropped his napkin on the table, and started to walk away; he paused, came back, and picked up his frosty bottle of beer. "No sense wastin' a cold one," he remarked, and strolled out, sipping the Molson almost cheerfully.

The other X-Men watched him go, matching expressions of puzzlement on their faces.

"What just happened?" Pete asked, brushing stray bread-and-butter crumbs off his shirt - sitting across from Rogue had put him directly in the line of fire.

Bobby shrugged, hoping his look of nonchalance would hide the fact that he was about ten seconds away from coming in his jeans, thanks to Kitty and her Wonder Foot. "Beats me. Those two are wuh- weird. Pass the b-broccoleeeee... Hank... please."

**********

Logan banged into the bedroom - and didn't see Rogue anywhere. He could smell her, though; the scent of her arousal filled the room like a heavy mist, covering everything it touched. He set the beer aside, held up the remote, and pressed the button.

"AH!" There was a thump from the other side of the bathroom door, and Logan walked over to find his quarry sprawled out on the tile floor, both hands busy in her shirt and panties.

"Ah ha!" he crowed, and hauled her up off the floor by the arm. "Caughtcha red-handed."

"Oh, come on, Logan!" She was starting to lose her patience with the game, sweat beading on her upper lip, her scent soaked through with desire and unfulfilled want. "You're gonna drive me nuts!"

His eyes darkened. "You give up?"

"No! Ah just... God, Logan, Ah can't help it!"

He growled. "Fine. Ya can't keep yer hands outta naughty places, I'm just gonna hafta do it for ya."

"What're you--"

"Hush!" He hauled her over to the bed and pushed her unceremoniously down onto it; picking up the paper bag still lying at the foot, he dug into it and pulled out two sets of metal handcuffs.

"Whoa," she said, eyes bugging. "Logan, Ah don't think--"

He put his hand over her mouth. "I. Said. Hush. Now mind me, girl!"

She sat there, staring at him, as he snapped a set of cuffs around each of her wrists and then hooked the other halves to the bedposts on the headboard. "Logan...?"

He flicked the dial on the remote up a good half-dozen notches, and she yelped, squirming. "Thought I toldja to hush."

She bucked her hips up off the bed, rattling the cuffs. "Oh... Ah... Logan..."

"Hush!" he bellowed, and she shut up, eyes wide. "That's better." As a reward, he bent down and kissed her, stroking the curve of her breast through her rumpled shirt. "Now be good while I get this stuff ready."

From the bag, he withdrew a little leather flogger, an ostrich feather, and a simple paraffin candle with a tabletop holder to put it in; she watched in mute, anxious fascination as he set everything on the bedside table beside the beer and lit the candle, then waited as he went to turn off the lights. When he returned, he stripped slowly, the candlelight and shadows flickering over his muscled body, and came to kneel beside her on the bed.

"You ain't been behavin'," he began, his voice like the rumble of a coming thunderstorm.

"Ah survived dinner," she retorted hotly, eyes narrowed.

"You keep smart-mouthin' me, girl," he said, expression dark, "I'm gonna hafta teach ya a lesson."

Something in the back of Rogue's head told her to behave herself - the little voice of reason and self-preservation and common sense and all those things she really ought to be employing whilst chained to a bed with one of the most lethal men on earth looking at her like she was a good steak and he hadn't eaten in a week.

But for some reason, she just couldn't bring herself to listen to it. She blamed the temporary insanity brought on by being so horny she could explode.

So she rattled the cuff around her right wrist, and when he looked up at it, she made a fist and lifted her middle finger.

He chuckled. "Bad girl." Before she could do anything about it, he reached up and unlocked the cuffs, then flipped her over onto her stomach and reattached the cuffs to the posts, leaving her chained facedown on the mattress.

"Hey!" she blurted, wriggling.

He pressed the button on the remote and shut the egg off again. "You're gettin' ballsy. Can't have that."

"Logan, Ah swear, as soon as you let me outta these things..."

There was the distinct snikt noise of his claws extending, and her skirt and panties were cut off of her in one swift movement. The claws retracted, and Rogue was left lying there, naked from the waist down, wondering what the hell was going on.

She swallowed hard and was about to ask him what he was doing - and then she felt the tickling sensation of the little flogger being trailed up the back of her thigh. "Oh, Jesus, Logan, you're not gonna--"

He snapped the leather down across her ass, just hard enough to raise one hell of a surface sting. "Hush."

"Logan! Logan, you can't - AH!" The flogger slapped down across her ass again, harder this time.

"I ain't the one chained to the bed, baby," he crooned, his low voice dripping malicious sweetness. "I'm the one with the cat-o-nine. Now hush, dammit!"

She was silent.

"See, that ain't so difficult," he said, setting the whip aside to stroke gentle fingers over her pinkened ass. "Hm. Two strokes, and you're rosy already."

She whimpered, struggling against her bonds.

"You want me to turn ya back over, sweetheart?" he asked, drawing infinitely careful circles over her warm skin.

She nodded vigorously, which made him chuckle.

"Not gonna try to get away, are ya? 'Cause that'd piss me off somethin' fierce."

She shook her head no.

"Okay, then." He reached up again and unlocked the cuffs, then flipped her back over and latched the cuffs a bit lower on the posts so she could lie flat on her back. "Better?"

She nodded.

"That's my good girl." He held up the little remote and pressed the button, making her arch and gasp. "Good girls get presents. Ya like presents, don'tcha, darlin'?"

She nodded again, biting her lip to keep from moaning.

He extended a single claw and cut the buttons off her shirt, one at a time. "You wanna know a secret? I kinda like givin' ya presents." He drew back the sides of her shirt, trailing the flat of the claw down over the swell of her breasts and across her belly. His wrist flicked suddenly, and her bra fell into two pieces, the cool air in the room making her nipples harder.

She was dying to say something, to moan, to beg, anything - but she knew speaking up would get all her newly acquired presents taken away, so she arched toward him, silently asking him to touch her.

"What, sweetheart?" he asked, chuckling darkly. "You want me to play with these?" He retracted the claw and let his hands wander over her breasts, his skilled fingertips plucking lightly at her nipples until she was writhing and moaning, despite her best efforts to keep quiet. "Oh, yeah... you like that, don'tcha, baby?"

She moaned a little louder, and he took one hand away just long enough to flick the dial up another notch or two. "Ohhh... ahhhmmm...."

"You ready for the next part of the game, darlin'?"

She nodded, not really caring what he did as long as it felt as good as what he was doing just then.

He reached over to the nightstand and picked up the candle. "Close yer eyes, baby."

She did - and abruptly opened them again when a droplet of hot melted candle wax splashed over her left nipple. "Ahh!"

"Shhh," he soothed, and trailed the cold, dripping edge of the beer bottle over the splatter of wax. "See, that ain't so bad, is it?"

She whimpered, watching as he tipped the candle over her again - and cried out when the hot droplet hit her right nipple.

He purred softly, rubbing the burning spot with the icy bottle; he held the candle up and dripped a half-dozen splatters straight down her front, and when she began to arch and wail, he set the bottle and candle aside to pick up the remote again. "That's my girl," he murmured, turning the dial almost all the way up. She was thrashing, desperate to come, and he picked up the ostrich feather, tickling her breasts, neck, thighs, hipbones...

"Please!" she cried, unable to restrain herself anymore.

"What, darlin'?" he asked, stroking the feather up the inside of her thigh.

"Please, please, please, Logan, Ah'm gonna die!" He flicked the feather over her clit and she very nearly screamed, spreading her legs wide. "Yes! Yes, Logan, please, please..."

"Oh, is that whatcha want, sweetheart?" He chuckled and tossed the feather aside. "Well hell, why didn'tcha say so?"

She was practically sobbing with frustration, actual tears forming in her eyes. "Please, Logan, please, Ah can't take it anymore..."

"Shhh," he soothed again, and hooked a finger through the egg's loop, pulling it out of her gently. She was so wet, so ready, so desperate for release that the scent alone nearly made him come; the egg was dripping, the insides of her thighs were slippery, her clit and labia were swollen and glistening, and he sincerely doubted it'd take much to bring her over the edge. "You want me, darlin'?"

"Yes!" she shouted, raising her hips up off the bed, trying to get closer to him.

"You want me to fuck you?"

"Yes!"

He dangled the still-vibrating egg from his fingertip and ran it lightly over the wet curls between her thighs. "Tell me. Tell me to do it."

She almost growled. "Oh, for God's sake, fuck me, Logan! Please!!"

He aligned himself with her entrance and slammed into her with one thrust, sheathing himself to the hilt; she throbbed around him, hot and wet, rocking her hips, begging with voice and body for more.

"Please, please, please," she chanted in time with his thrusts, wrapping her legs around him, rattling the cuffs that chained her to the bedposts.

"You've been... such a good... girl for me..." he panted, licking her throat. "You get... another... present..." He pushed the egg down between their bodies, lodging it firmly between his pelvic bone and her clit, and cranked the dial on the remote as high up as it would go.

Rogue threw her head back against the pillows, squeezed her inner muscles around him with strength he didn't even know she had, and came with a genuine, honest-to-God scream. It was the most mind-blowing orgasm she'd ever had, crashing through her in spasming waves that curled her toes, made her fingers tingle, made her hair stand on end, and warmed every inch of her body; it went on and on, the first one bleeding into a second one, the second one slamming through her in lightning-fast jolts, and by the time the third one finished and faded away, she realized he'd taken the cuffs off her at some point and she was clinging to his shoulders, sobbing.

"You all right?" he asked, his beautiful eyes full of concern.

She laughed, tears streaking her flushed cheeks. "Oh, God, yeah, baby." She clutched him closer, her body humming. "That was the best goddamn orgasm Ah've ever had in mah whole life." She paused, a thought occurring to her. "Did you get to come?"

He chuckled. "Ya know how men ain't supposed to be able to have multiples? Yeah, well, it's bullshit."

She exhaled a little laugh, nuzzling into his facial hair. "That good, huh?"

He reached back to pull the blanket over them both, then turned onto his side to hold her against his chest, his cock still buried deep inside her. "Darlin', you're the first woman to ever drain me dry, I think."

"That's what Ah'm best at, sugah, and Ah'm the best there--"

He put a hand over her mouth. "Don't say it."

She nipped at his palm, and when he withdrew his hand, she asked, "Why not?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Just don't."

"But Ah am the best there is at--"

"Don't, girl, I mean it."

"There's nothin' wrong with me sayin' Ah'm the best there is a--"

He growled. "What're you tryin' to do, torture me?"

She laughed, trailing a fingertip down his cheekbone. "Now there's an idea..."


END.