FILL: Got To Sin To Get Saved 3/? (WARNINGS: slavery, dubcon) (CONTAINS: BDSM)almostneverJuly 8 2011, 07:18:13 UTC
He rushes toward the blank bubbles, his team, gathered in the gleaming kitchen. "There's someone in there with access to his powers," he tells them. It's a struggle to focus his eyes on them, to rely on sight when the richer sense of his telepathy is drawn so strongly to the presence he can feel in the Hellfire Club. He wants to fill his attention with it, bask in it.
"What's he do?" Armando asks.
Charles eagerly reaches out with an open mind to the new mutant, catches a glimpse of his thoughts-- and withdraws as quickly as possible, coughing to cover his unwarranted shock.
"It’s all right," he waves off their concerned looks, "I can't get much, too many other minds crowded around." He hopes his face isn't as red as it feels, that the prickle of sweat doesn't show. He doesn't like the team to see him wrong-footed, he's worried it shakes their confidence.
If he were a better leader, maybe it wouldn't matter, but he's perfectly aware he's in his position by default. He's a bit older than most of the others in the resistance, he has wide-ranging and useful abilities, access to money and a secure base. He set out to gather every mutant he could find, and when they looked to him, he was vain enough to take charge. Never mind that constitutionally, he doesn't see himself as a fighter, much less a commander. In a better world, he might teach.
In this world, though, the mutant in the Hellfire Club is locked into a steel gates-of-hell cockring, arms bound overhead, adamantium collar useless but tight around his throat, the brass scrape of vampire gloves raking down his back between two clothespin zippers as a human hisses take it, freak, so much pain and sex and hate roiling between them that Charles couldn't even glean a name, let alone anything else.
In this world, if they’re discovered, mutants can’t expect much better.
"I can't tell what he can do," says Charles. "If his powers are active despite the collar, possibly he can manipulate technology? Whatever his abilities, he's fully manifested, and I think he must be quite powerful." Raven opens her mouth but he charges on, "He has a plan already, that was topmost in his mind. It shouldn't take long to extract him. And now I really do have to go to make my appointment. Angel, you'll be my anchor?"
There's a pause as they wait for Raven to object again, but she seems to be giving up for tonight. She just lets her eyes brighten to their natural yellow, watching Charles.
"Of course," Angel says, standing.
Raven morphs back into her tall male form. "I'll drive you."
*
Charles steps into the Hellfire Club a few minutes fashionably late for his appointment, scanning the lobby. Two enormous floral displays flank the entrance, at least a hundred roses in a fragrant mass on each side.
It's the sort of ostentatious display Charles likely wouldn't notice on his own, but when he gives Angel what he's seeing, she registers it, the enormous wasteful expense of it, and he catches the echo as she wonders to herself how many hours of fucking and punishment the mutants here took, to pay for all those pretty flowers.
His reaction echoes as well, so she knows that he heard her. «Sorry,» he says, and she responds with a tangle of anger and resignation and acceptance, «It's all right. I know it can be like this, and I volunteered.»
She did, and the others have, as well. Despite the fact that ordinarily they want him to stay out of their minds, connecting with him like this during a mission is something of a coveted role among them. Maybe because for a long time, he'd only trust Raven with it, or maybe because there's a thrill to being the only one outside who knows what's going on; Charles isn't sure, since he does honestly try not to hear their thoughts.
For all that he can read minds, Charles rarely knows why people think what they do, not without delving deeper than he can bring himself to go without permission. And no one's ever given him that.
"What's he do?" Armando asks.
Charles eagerly reaches out with an open mind to the new mutant, catches a glimpse of his thoughts-- and withdraws as quickly as possible, coughing to cover his unwarranted shock.
"It’s all right," he waves off their concerned looks, "I can't get much, too many other minds crowded around." He hopes his face isn't as red as it feels, that the prickle of sweat doesn't show. He doesn't like the team to see him wrong-footed, he's worried it shakes their confidence.
If he were a better leader, maybe it wouldn't matter, but he's perfectly aware he's in his position by default. He's a bit older than most of the others in the resistance, he has wide-ranging and useful abilities, access to money and a secure base. He set out to gather every mutant he could find, and when they looked to him, he was vain enough to take charge. Never mind that constitutionally, he doesn't see himself as a fighter, much less a commander. In a better world, he might teach.
In this world, though, the mutant in the Hellfire Club is locked into a steel gates-of-hell cockring, arms bound overhead, adamantium collar useless but tight around his throat, the brass scrape of vampire gloves raking down his back between two clothespin zippers as a human hisses take it, freak, so much pain and sex and hate roiling between them that Charles couldn't even glean a name, let alone anything else.
In this world, if they’re discovered, mutants can’t expect much better.
"I can't tell what he can do," says Charles. "If his powers are active despite the collar, possibly he can manipulate technology? Whatever his abilities, he's fully manifested, and I think he must be quite powerful." Raven opens her mouth but he charges on, "He has a plan already, that was topmost in his mind. It shouldn't take long to extract him. And now I really do have to go to make my appointment. Angel, you'll be my anchor?"
There's a pause as they wait for Raven to object again, but she seems to be giving up for tonight. She just lets her eyes brighten to their natural yellow, watching Charles.
"Of course," Angel says, standing.
Raven morphs back into her tall male form. "I'll drive you."
*
Charles steps into the Hellfire Club a few minutes fashionably late for his appointment, scanning the lobby. Two enormous floral displays flank the entrance, at least a hundred roses in a fragrant mass on each side.
It's the sort of ostentatious display Charles likely wouldn't notice on his own, but when he gives Angel what he's seeing, she registers it, the enormous wasteful expense of it, and he catches the echo as she wonders to herself how many hours of fucking and punishment the mutants here took, to pay for all those pretty flowers.
His reaction echoes as well, so she knows that he heard her. «Sorry,» he says, and she responds with a tangle of anger and resignation and acceptance, «It's all right. I know it can be like this, and I volunteered.»
She did, and the others have, as well. Despite the fact that ordinarily they want him to stay out of their minds, connecting with him like this during a mission is something of a coveted role among them. Maybe because for a long time, he'd only trust Raven with it, or maybe because there's a thrill to being the only one outside who knows what's going on; Charles isn't sure, since he does honestly try not to hear their thoughts.
For all that he can read minds, Charles rarely knows why people think what they do, not without delving deeper than he can bring himself to go without permission. And no one's ever given him that.
Reply
Love the girls too!
Reply
I have a friend over and she just laughed aloud at me shouting WHAT, ONLY THREE PARTS YET??
Meaning: this is me, waiting and staring with slightly creepy little amorous eyes.
Reply
Two more parts up, just for you. ;-)
Reply
Keep up the great work!
Reply
Leave a comment