Title: Control 3/?
Author: sharonmjl47
Rating: NC-17
Category: Movieverse.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, and no one. Sad, isn’t it!
Feedback: Please, bad or good. If no one tells me it’s bad, I won’t know!
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A month later and the routine hadn’t changed much. Logan would go down and give her her breakfast. She refused to eat at lunchtime, but he went back with her dinner. He had even taken the cuffs off a couple of times, but she had tried to hurt him or herself so he didn’t do that anymore. But he did cuff her hands in front of her so she could at least eat, use the toilet, and wash herself without anyone’s assistance.
The Professor saw her once a day to try and penetrate her mind to flush Rogue out, but he couldn’t. They had tried several methods, including drugging her and trying while she was unconscious, but it had failed. Xavier caught the briefest of glimpses of Rogue but couldn’t get through, couldn’t help her, and in the end, it only served to weaken him.
They hadn’t been able to find out anything about who she was. Carol was excellent at avoiding the question, and of course she had been right: none of them were willing to hurt Rogue to get it out of her. None of the others could face her. Scott had tried, but when she started to laugh at him, he couldn’t take it. He said he just needed to know it wasn’t Rogue who had stabbed him.
Logan put in the code for the outer door and walked in, going straight to the door of Carol’s cell. He opened it and placed some fresh clothes on the small table along with a couple of books. The books were Kitty’s idea; she figured that maybe one of Rogue’s books would bring her out a little.
“Heya, hot stuff, come to fuck me today?” It was her usual greeting. She was lounging on the cot with her arms above her head. She smiled and opened her legs, then put her cuffed hands between her thighs against her jeans and began to rub herself. “Ooh Logan, please fuck me!” Then she started to laugh when he simply walked out and closed her cell door behind him. “Oh come on, big man. That’s what you been dying to come out of this mouth FOR YEARS! ADMIT IT, YOU ASSHOLE! YOU WANT HER! YOU WANT TO FUCK HER UNTIL SHE’S SCREAMING YOUR NAME AND BEGGING FOR MORE! SHE’S NOT COMING BACK, SHE’S NEVER COMING BACK!”
He turned and was back in her cell in a second. Her scent spiked with fear for the briefest of moments just before his fist connected hard with the left side of her face. She fell against the wall harshly. Logan grabbed her shirt and hauled her up and against the wall, his face inches from hers and his fist raised with the threat of hitting her again.
“Finally, finally some emotion, some passion, some anger from this walking mountain of metal. Finally after a month I can get a reaction out of you!” She pressed herself into him. “Isn’t this what you want? Her? You sick fucking bastard, she’s looks like jailbait. Your healing saw to that. She’d have to be thirty before she looks twenty. Everything is your fault, everything in this girl’s life is your fuckin’ fault!”
“You want a reaction, I’ll give you one!” He grabbed her hair and kissed her brutally, his mouth crashing down her hers, making her moan against him. She leant into the kiss as he roughly forced his tongue into her mouth. He could taste her blood coming from her lip, and he sucked hungrily on it.
Her cuffed hands splayed onto his chest but didn’t push him away. He lifted her hands above her head. There was a clothes hook just above her so he hooked the cuffs over that. Then he moved his lips roughly down her jaw to her neck, nipping at her sharply. He pushed her top up and sucked on her nipple through her bra. Then his hands began undoing her jeans, while he bit her neck again.
Sick pieces of memory began to flash in her mind. She remembered the men with loud voices and big guns. Shouting, hitting, cursing at her. Falling to the floor and feeling their suffocating weight on top of her. She’d cried out, but it had never stopped them, not once had her crying stopped them. They'd used a suppression collar as well. They'd abused her and used her, and she’d gagged as they ejaculated in her face.
Suddenly she had fear rolling off her as she struggled against Logan. “No! No, no, no, no, NO!”
He put his hand over her mouth and yanked her hair backwards. “Everyone has a stopping point, darlin’. Guess I just found yours. Watch your mouth when it comes to my girl or next time…” He shook her head in his hands, and her eyes were wide with fear and a single tear slipped from her left eye, but even under all the fear he could still smell the hint of her arousal. “I won’t stop, and you won’t be able to stop me. Right now, darlin’, you’re weak, you’re nothin’!” He let her go and stomped out of the cell and out of the room into the main corridor.
She slowly reached up and unhooked her hands, then slid to the floor shaking. She rubbed her hands against her temples, trying to ignore the mixture of voices in her head. They were laughing and telling her how Logan *would* do it. Marie’s inner Logan agreed, profusely. Even Magneto seemed to be against her. “Shut up shut up shut shut up shut shut up shut shut up shut shut up shut shut up shut shut up shut shut up shut shut up shut…” She rocked on her heels chanting over and over.
Logan slammed his bedroom door and tore off his shirt. He didn’t bother putting it in his hamper, simply threw it in the bathtub. He started his shower, took off his shoes and socks, and stood under it, his bare feet squelching into his shirt. He slipped his jeans down his legs and stood on them as well. As much as he had always wanted to smell of Marie’s arousal and sex, he had to wash it off. He couldn’t cope with the scent of her in heat. It wasn’t really her. It wasn’t his Marie. It was a sick twisted bitch who had hurt the woman he loved.
Once he was clean, he put on fresh clothes and sat on his windowsill, blowing cigar smoke out of the open window. He knew that she wasn’t Marie, but he couldn’t shake the fact that he had hit her, he had just hit Marie, then if that wasn’t bad enough, he had threatened to rape her. He had shocked himself. He never expected to actually hit and scare a woman like that. It wasn’t what he was about. Sure he liked the male dominance and control that got him hot, but he normally didn’t like fear mixed in with sex. It made it bitter somehow. He also didn’t normally like the way it made him feel, but this situation for some reason pushed his buttons and made him incredibly wound up and horny. She looked, felt, and smelt like Marie, and he wanted her so much. But she had never been afraid of him, never had fear bittering her scent.
He got off the sill and reached under his bed for his bottle of Jack Daniel’s. Sitting back on the sill, he broke the seal and took a long swig and sighed. How was he supposed to get through this? How was he supposed to get through to Marie? He just didn’t know, couldn’t think how he could bring this to an end without giving in to his desire and fucking her. Especially seeing as this mystery woman had obviously been abused. No matter what the reasons or circumstance, he knew he would never be able to force her. It would always be an empty threat, but she didn’t know that, and it suited him for now, or at least he hoped that it would suit him for now.
The next day when he took her breakfast, he put it on the table and turned to leave, not even sparing her a glance. “What’s this, guilt? Pushed your morals a little too far, did you?” She knew she should keep her mouth shut, but somewhere in her life her common sense had been left behind along with the best part her sanity.
He turned and slowly stalked into the cell. She scrambled to her feet and flattened herself against the wall, her breathing heavy with fear already. He grabbed her and turned her roughly round, slamming her into the wall. Fisting the majority of her hair and holding her tightly against the wall with his sheer size, he put his mouth close to her ear. “You are gonna have to learn to keep your mouth shut.”
Inhaling her scent, he could tell that this time, filtering through the initial fear, there was arousal. Heat. She craved his touch, wanted him, wanted the brutality, the roughness. He snaked his tongue out and licked the curve of her ear, then led it down the hot trail of her neck to her shoulder, his nose pushing her t-shirt out of the way as he went.
He closed his eyes at the taste of her. Syrup, she tasted like sticky sweet syrup. A thick rich taste that he wanted to savour and devour. But it wasn’t Marie. He snapped his eyes open and pushed himself away from her, ignoring her roaring heartbeat and quick breathing, not to mention her sex-drenched scent. He closed the cell door as he left and walked back to his room for another shower to wash her off him. It wasn’t Marie. He had to keep saying it, or he would give into whatever was inside of him, whatever she had woken up, brought to life and which every time he got near her was nudging at him to just have her, mark her, make her his. But it wasn’t Marie.
Four days later, Hank came to see him. He was lifting weights in the gym. Logan had asked Hank to see to her for a while, as he needed a break. Hank had said that he was pleased to help and assured Logan that he understood and would make sure he was kept informed of any developments with her.
Logan watched him walk into the gym and over to the weight machine. Hank held a smile on his lips, but it faltered when he reached Logan’s side. “I think that you need to go and see Rogue.”
“Why?” He set the weights down with a clank and picked up his towel.
“She, or whoever the occupant is, has hurt herself during the night. She’s scratched at her neck rather badly, obviously an attempt to take the collar off or an attempt to get us to take the collar off and allow you to heal Marie’s physical body, but nonetheless she is in need of some attention.”
“So can’t you do it?” He tried to sound uninterested, but in reality, he was simply looking for an excuse to go back down there.
“She has refused and lashed out rather vigorously at me. She said she wanted you to do it and no one else.”
“Fucking hell! Fine, I’ll fall for it. Let me get showered, and I’ll come down. Did you tell Xavier?”
“Yes, he has been informed. He said that he intended on trying to speak to her again this evening.” Logan picked up his water bottle and t-shirt and stomped out of the gym. Hank tried a weak ‘thank you’ as Logan walked past, but it never really came out.
After a quick shower and a change of clothes, he walked into the med lab. “Ah Logan, good. I have some antiseptic wipes and soft Band-Aid’s. I am most grateful. She kicked me in a rather private area when I attempted to help her, and I must say it knocked the wind out of me rather.”
Logan smiled. “Don’t worry, Hank. I’ll sort her out.”
Hank put away a clipboard and picked up his glasses and coffee mug. “I’ll be heading back up top. I’m making some coffee. Would you like me to make a full pot and leave you some?”
Logan smiled again. Hank really was a nice guy. “Yeah, thanks.” Hank turned to leave. “Hey, Doc, uh… sorry I was a grouch before, this has kinda got me …uh…”
“Out of sorts?” Hank offered with a smile.
Logan chuckled at that. “Yeah, out of sorts. Thanks.”
“You’re very welcome, my dear friend, and there is no need to apologise for said grouchiness. We all have days. And this situation is very unsettling. Rogue has become a very good friend, and I feel rather helpless. So I can only wonder as to how you feel, considering your feelings for her. This must be extremely difficult.”
“Yeah.” Logan leaned against the exam table and sighed. “I don’t know, Hank. I look at her, and it’s M… Rogue, and then she opens her mouth and spits pure venom, and I’m confused. I get close to her, and I can smell her, and I… I see Rogue. I smell Rogue, and there’s something deep that makes me want to ignore the fact that it’s not Rogue.”
Hank sat back down on his desk chair, a concerned expression on his face. “What do you mean, something deep?”
Logan hung his head a little. “Like something I’ve forgotten, like I’ve known it before, age old, like I’ve felt it, experienced it before or something really *base* and needy. No, it’s more than need…” He got up and began to pace restlessly. “I don’t need it, I *want* it, like I just have to have it or I’m gonna explode!”
“And this, feeling, it’s making you react as if she were Rogue?”
“Yeah. I know it’s not, but I want it to be Rogue so badly it doesn’t register. I want the control, the fear, and the surrender of her. I like it, but I don’t think I should like it. In fact, I know fucking well shouldn’t like it! I never have done before. The idea of hurting a woman or taking something that isn’t offered willingly just doesn’t do it for me. Well, I say ‘not offered’…the way she smells when I get near her, she’s offering, but she’s not. It’s… complicated.”
“But this personality is receptacle to this - this kind of sexual/violence ‘game’, and that makes you feel differently?”
“Yeah.”
“Logan, the subject of right and wrong is extremely different for each individual person. Everyone’s moral boundaries are set closer or wider apart and only they can answer to them. Sex comes in as many shapes, sizes, and colours as peoples do, and you’re the last person I have to point that out to. Many people also find that violence and sex go hand in hand, but there is a limit, a *very* fine line where it crosses from violence and sex to simply just violence. All I will say is that you must remind yourself that anything you do with this woman, Rogue’s conscious is there beneath the surface. This *is* Rogue, your friend, the woman you *love* Logan and you can’t ever forget that.”
Logan sighed heavily as Hank got up and went to leave. “Yeah, I know.”
“Don’t dwell on the matter too much. Trust your instincts. You’ll know if what she is… ‘giving off’, shall we say, is a ruse or her true emotions. Personally, I would definitely *not* recommend that you allow anything to happen between you and this woman, but you have to be your own judge, jury, *and* executioner.” He patted Logan on the shoulder and left with a wave of his hand, whistling as he called the elevator up to the main house.
Logan was glad that Hank had decided not to stay on the lower levels. He didn’t want him to hear any shouting, or anything else that might happen. Logan shook himself. He wasn’t going to let anything else happen. It was Marie, ultimately it was Marie, and he shouldn’t use her. But he just couldn’t deny getting horny about having that much control over the woman. He knew he needed to see to Marie’s body and ignore anything the woman in her head said. He needed to ignore how his own body felt as well.
Picking up the wipes and Band-Aid’s, he crossed the hall and opened the cell room. The scent of blood hit him. Then he walked forward and opened up the cell itself. He leaned on the frame and looked at her. She was sitting on the floor with her back straight and flat against the wall. Her fingernails were red with her own blood. By the looks of it, she had scratched big welts in her neck, just above the collar, and it had dripped down her front.
She looked up at him, her eyes red and swollen as if she had been crying, and he was slightly taken aback when she turned her head away from him with what looked like shame. He thought for a moment that it was all an act, all a ruse to get him to trust her, and then she would try to escape or get the collar off. But there was something about the look she gave him, and her scent was full of shame, disappointment and self-hatred. He knew it wasn’t an act; she was truly miserable.
He sighed and went to pick up a clean t-shirt that was on the bed. Her legs were stretched out in front of her, and he knelt across them. First he got the key to the handcuffs out of his back pocket and undid them. She instantly rubbed her wrists but made no move to get away. He put the cuffs in his pocket along with the keys.
He put the wipes, t-shirt ,and Band-Aid’s on the floor next to them. “Take your shirt off.” She met his eyes as she did as he asked. He could tell she was trying to size him up, figure out his intention, but he knew she wouldn’t be able to so easily. He noticed again that even though she did as he asked and made no attempt to attack him or stop him, her scent held a hint of fear and arousal as she sat beneath him in her bra.
He cleaned up her fingers and nails first. Then she didn’t move as he gently pushed her hair back over her shoulders out of the way off her neck. He picked up the wipes and began to clean the scratches on her neck. He swept the wipe up one of the cuts; she hissed and grabbed his wrist, meeting his eyes again. They intensely starred at each other. “It stings,” she whispered, and he nodded as she let go of his wrist.
Logan slipped his hand into the back of her hair and pulled her head to one side for better access. He leaned close to her as he cleaned around the base of her neck and her collarbone. As he did he caught the top of one of the cuts; it began to bleed a little. Helped by the wetness of the wipes, the trickle of blood flowed down her neck and provocatively into the curve of her breast.
He followed it with his eyes. As he watched, he heard her heartbeat speed up and her breathing get heavy. He cleaned the trickle slowly and carried on cleaning and soothing the welts on her skin. By the time he put the last Band-Aid on her, both of them were breathing heavy, and his erection was pressed into her stomach.
She held his intense gaze as he looked at her. She swallowed the lump in her throat and licked her dry lips. His eyes flicked quickly to her lips as her tongue darted out to wet them and then back to her eyes. He kept repeating the same sentence over in his head. ~It’s not Marie. It’s not Marie.~
“The other day…” her voice was barely a whisper. “Would you have?”
“You’re in the body of a woman that I’ve wanted for a long time, so, yeah. I would.” He felt her small fingers grip on the tops his thighs.
“That’s what they keep telling me.” He frowned, and she noticed. “The voices. They’re in no doubt as to what you’d do to me if you wanted.”
“You got Marie’s voices?” She nodded, and her eyes filled with tears, turning the bright blue a murky grey colour.
“They don’t shut up. They chant or curse or pick at me. Even Eric. There’s no end to them. I didn’t know, I didn’t about them!” Her breaths came quickly as the tears began to fall down her face. “I… I wouldn’t have… if I’d known!”
He stood up and ran his hand over his face and through his hair. He walked out of the cell, throwing away the Band-Aid wrappers in the bin as he did. “Don’t hurt yourself again. I don’t like it.” He had to get away from the sound of her tears. He couldn’t stand them. Even more than that, he couldn’t stand the fact that he actually felt something for this woman. He wasn’t sure what. Maybe it was just pity. He didn’t know.
“Carol!” He turned when she spoke. “My name’s Carol.” He walked from the room, and the door hissed shut on her.
****************END OF PART THREE
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Gamma is the shinning star in my gramatically-bad world. I LOVE her! Thank you honey!
WARNING: There are scenes/thoughts/flasbacks of sexual and physical abuse, in a prisoer/gaurd situation. Sorry if that upsets or offends anyone.
Summary: “Everyone has a stopping point, darlin’. Guess I just found yours…”
WARNING: There are scenes/thoughts/flasbacks of sexual and physical abuse, in a prisoer/gaurd situation. Sorry if that upsets or offends anyone.
Summary: “Everyone has a stopping point, darlin’. Guess I just found yours…”