It's currently impossible for me to RP. After all, I can't very well Role Play with myself, so unfortunately you will now be inundated with my writing. Starting with this! Just don't tell anybody I wrote about sex. Haha! ;)
Catch a Falling Star
Logan grunted awake, the harsh November rain beating against the window. He hated the goddamn rain. Every fucking drop of water would wash away the scents clinging to the air and he hated it. But there was something washing away his disgust at the weather, something he owned and it sure was a pretty little something.
The girl in his bed stirred slightly and he held her firmly in his strong arms, his erect member prodding her hip "Wake up, Slave." He said, brushing his thumb over her nipple. "Your Master is horny."
He saw her eyes flutter open and watched his slave gaze at him sleepily. "Ah'm tired." Marie whispered softly.
Ignoring her, Logan flipped the covers down and slipped a finger in her sex. "You sore down there?" He asked, stroking her teasingly and curling his finger inside her.
"N-No." She moaned, her face contorting in pleasure.
"Hmm," He smirked, removing his finger and teasing her entrance with the tip of his cock. "I ain't doin' my job properly then."
The shy southerner gripped at the sheets and released a fevered, desperate moan, her eyes fluttering closed and her back arching.
His face twisting into a devilish smirk, he arched a shaggy eyebrow and nipped at her earlobe. "You want your master's cock inside your sweet pussy, Pretty Slave?" He purred in her ear, brushing a silver strand of hair from her face.
"Mmm hmm," She responded, the room drowning in a thick wave of lust.
Mounting her, Logan pinned the girl with his crushing weight and thrust roughly into her hot sex, groaning as he worked himself up into a thrusting frenzy. She was so fucking tight and warm, so goddamn innocent and gorgeous to boot. She was his, his slave, his submissive and he was going to break her.
A flushed Marie placed her hands on her Master's hips and listened to the rain drumming against the window pane. The enormous four poster mahogany bed groaned underneath her and the headboard slammed against the wall, chipping tiny shards off the dull wooden panelling.
Logan suddenly snarled, never stopping his rough assault on his slave's pussy. A light knock at the bedroom door drew another deep, feral growl from his lips. "Take a hike!" He ordered in a no nonsense tone, never taking his darkening gaze off the girl his cock was deep inside of.
"Sorry to disturb you, Mr Logan," A maid's hushed voice called through the locked door. "But you have a visitor."
"I'm busy." He grunted, grinding against his slave's clit and slamming back into her harshly. He relished in the cries tumbling from her lips as he repeated his action time and again. His slave would never want for anything. She would be dressed in the best money could buy and he would fuck her senseless at every opportunity.
He detected the change in her scent and knew she was ready to be taken over the edge. "Come for me, Slave." He rumbled, sinking his teeth into her neck and drawing blood.
Marie's slick, roasting walls thundered around her Master's hot member and she cried out his name, her pleasure receptors off the chart. "Master!"
Pistoning his hips, Logan slammed past her folds once more and growled, shooting his warm seed deeply into her. He sucked at her neck, marking his slave just above her branding and cupped her face, looking her in the eye. "You don't say no to me."
Her eyes widened and she spluttered nervously. "Ah-Ah didn't!" Hearing her master growl in warning, she meekly dropped her gaze in surrender. "Ah'm sorry, Master."
"You will be if it happens again." He grunted, pulling out of her and leaving his bed. "Tellin' me you're tired ain't gonna wash with me, Slave. I'm in charge here and you best not forget it."
He snatched his breeches off the chair in front of the roaring fire and stepped into them, tugging them up his legs and over his thick, muscular thighs. Reaching for yesterday's shirt, his eyes brushed over his Slave's delicious naked form.
"Touch yourself." He ordered with a growl.
Marie blushed, her gaze momentarily darting to the whip hanging by the door. She knew never to disobey her Master's wishes and trailed her hand across her rosy nipple, gasping as she made believe it was his calloused fingers tweaking and twisting.
Logan smirked, his member straining at his breeches and stalked over to the pretty little thing in his bed. "You achin' for your master's touch, slave?" He purred, his hand reaching down to the apex of her thighs and pinching her clit roughly.
Moaning with added vigour, Marie lifted her hips, hoping for a deeper penetration. Her happiest mornings consisted of her Master playing with her sex. His hot, scorching fingers bled every last shred of pleasure out of her mind, body and soul each time, leaving her sated and ultimately ravenous for more. She had become quite the sex fiend since her Master had paid fifteen dollars for her curves at the bustling town's slave sale in the market square.
Smirking darkly, he dropped his hand to his side and took pleasure in watching her face slump into an unhappy pout. "Tough." He told her in a clipped tone, picking her up easily and in a few long strides he was depositing his woman in the corner. "Stay here."
Marie nodded in response, under no illusion that naughtiness would bring her praise or happy fingers. Her Master didn't like it when he was disobeyed and nor did her pale, delicate behind.
"Nose to the wall, Girl." Logan added, picking up his belt and frowning as he flashed the leather down on the cute, shapely bottom he owned.
The girl gasped and immediately did as she was told, pressing her nose against the cold, stone wall and holding her arms straight at her sides.
His fingers danced over the angry red line spreading across her flesh and he growled in deep satisfaction. "I don't want you movin', Slave. You get me?"
"Yes, Master." Marie whispered softly, fighting to keep the tears at bay.
With a grunt of approval, Logan slipped the strip of beaten leather through the hoops of his coal black breeches and stepped away from the girl. Buckling the belt, he went to button his ruffled, crumpled up shirt and paused for a moment, a glint in his eyes when he spotted the wooden phallus he had made to order by the local carpenter.
"One more thing 'fore I leave," He smirked, rock hard and closing the distance between his calloused hand and the phallus. "I want your pussy full." His fingers curled around the base of the phallus and he carried it over to Marie's side. "Spread 'em."
Without a shred of hesitation Marie parted her legs and bit down on her lower lip nervously. The phallus was eased gently inside her and a groan was slowly building in her throat. She was desperate to rock her hips, but stood perfectly still, not even an excited twitch escaping her.
Tapping the base of the phallus, Logan stepped back and slapped Marie's bottom, leaving a handprint in his wake. "Be good, Slave." He called over his shoulder, buttoning his shirt as he went on his way.
Slipping out the door, the feral inhaled deeply and released a lust filled growl. Hell, she smelt so goddamn inviting and he had a difficult time moving his feet further down the hall. But the Wolverine was intrigued to see who'd rocked up to his property and what business they claimed to have with him. Though nothing beat fucking his slave until she couldn't walk straight, business dealings meant he could eat steak dinners everyday for a week. He could hire pretty little things to clean his shit up too, he reminded himself, winking as he passed by a good looking woman with golden hair.
Before Logan had the chance to head back and pin Marie to the wall for one last fuck session, his ears perked up and he growled. He caught another whiff of air and stalked to his barely used office with a scowl. That loud mouthed Texan was here and that didn't sit right with him. The man was always trying to get his slimy little meat hooks on the land this house stood on. But this slice of prime Canadian real estate was Logan's and when he owned something, nobody would take it away from him.
Growling, he slammed his way into his office and snarled. "What are you doing here?" He demanded to know; furious he had been dragged away from his Slave to deal with his fucker.
The large, pot bellied man guffawed at the rude greeting and slapped his thigh before jumping to his feet. "Logan, Logan." He drawled, holding his hand out for the man to shake. "Is that any way to greet a man of stature?"
Logan was less than impressed and batted the hand away. "What the hell are you doing here?" He repeated a little more firmly this time, sitting down behind his mahogany desk and settling back in his leather seat.
"You're a hard man to do business with." The Texan sighed, glancing at the man with intrigue. "But I like you anyway!" He chuckled, holding his barrel shaped stomach as he laughed.
His eyes narrowing menacingly, Logan was close to throwing the annoying bastard headfirst through the window. "Now look here," He growled. "I ain't spending all day stuck in this room listening to you talk out your ass, Texan."
"Okay, okay." The man said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "I'm only here to ask you something, fella."
"I'm not selling up." The feral warned in a gravelly tone. "You ask me again, I'm kicking your head through the wall."
The Texan frowned at that. "Not even if I had a gift for you? I want to sweeten the deal, Logan."
"Not even then." Logan growled, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk. "You and me, Texan, we're gonna have one hell of a falling out soon." He watched the man whistle and was starting to gain more suspicious by the moment. "Now what are you doing?"
"This is for you, my good man." The businessman beamed, gesturing dramatically at the doorway and waiting for his gift to enter the study.
His nostrils flaring, Logan rose from the chair and instantly recognised the scent steadily coming closer to the room. "Where'd you find it?"
"It? It? Is that the greatest group of words your tired lips can create? I've secured you the man your greedy little heart desired last month! You were outbid, Logan. I saw you settle for that pale girl."
"There was no settling about it." Wolverine growled, his hackles rising. He wouldn't have his pretty little slave insulted. "The girl was a damn good buy." His eyes flickered to the door when the boy, hell, the younger guy walked in and his cock twitched with appreciation.
He was perfect from top to bottom, the raggedy clothes housing something Logan had to see, but he wouldn't be letting the Texan catch sight of anything because this sight was going to be for Wolverine's eyes only.
"How much do you want?" Logan grunted, tearing his eyes away from the boy.
Listening to the two men beat about a price for his head; Scott stood off to the side and gazed around the fine interior with slight interest. He was pretty sure Jean would have loved it here, but they had been separated after he was sold. He wondered where his first love was now and if she was even safe. His heart ached for her and he kept a tight listen on the conversation. He had no problem doing manual work until he worked off his debt to the man. He was strong and a work effic had been drilled into him from an early age.
"I'll pay you fifteen dollars, Texan. The same amount I paid for the girl." Logan grunted abruptly, sick to the back teeth of batting around a price. "I'm real happy with her and I don't need another slave right now. You can either take the cash or leave empty handed."
The Texan mulled over the ultimate price and slowly reached a conclusion. "You got yourself a deal, Logan." He grinned, holding out his hand for the man to shake.
Snorting to himself, Logan dug around in one of his desk drawers and produced a wad of notes that equalled fifteen bucks. "Take that and get going." He growled, handing the money over.
"It was a pleasure doing business with you!" The man beamed, tipping his fancy top hat and making haste.
Logan was still until he heard the sounds of the carriage leaving his land. Taking a seat, his darkening gaze snapped to the man and he growled lowly. "What's your name, Boy?" He demanded to know gruffly.
"Scott, Sir." The man answered politely, his daydreams suddenly a thing of the past.
"Like hell it is. You left your name at the door. I own you now and you go by what I call you." He explained, his train of thought leading his eyes further down the boy's body until it discovered the tell tale sign of a bulge.
Leaning back in his chair, the wood creaked underneath Logan's heavy body and he chuckled. "C'mere and strip for me, Slave. I want to see what you're hiding under those rags."
A paling Scott shook his head firmly and considered making a run for it. "Absolutely not." He frowned, standing his ground in the face of the furious looking man. "I'm here to work and I'll do that, but I won't play around until I want to."
"Until you want to?" Logan thundered, his eyes narrowing as he leapt from the chair and stalked over to the retreating slave. "Let's get one thing straight, Bub." He whispered darkly, grabbing hold of Scott's arm and turning him around. He tugged at the waistband of the raggedy old pants and drew them down the Slave's slim waist and shapely thighs with no trouble at all. "I own every scrap of you and what I say goes."
Scott gasped in horror when an awfully hard, calloused hand bounced off his vulnerable bare bottom and left a strong sting in its wake. "Ouch!"
"You got that right." The feral confirmed, dragging the boy over to the large mahogany desk and leaning him over until Scott's nose touched the wood and his backside was standing real proud in the air. "Stay there and don't move!"
His stomach twisting in knots, Scott gripped at the edge of the desk and felt his stubborn nature run for the hills. "Sir, I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot." He spluttered, his bottom squirming when another stinging smack landed squarely on his left cheek.
"Right again, Boy. Not shut ya mouth." Logan ordered, deciding the Slave's first punishment would start with a dose of his hand. He wasn't going to stop until the boy was as red as a tomato and ten times as sorry.
His large, heavy palm slammed against the vulnerable cheeks again and he quickly found a rhythm, alternating from cheek to cheek and leaving solid red handprints as he expertly spanked the living daylights out of the boy. He wasn't one to be messed with or disobeyed and Scott would soon learn that the hard way.
Struggling over the desk, Scott dug his filthy fingernails into the wood and gasped and kicked out. His bottom was struggling to dodge the painful smacks and the explosion of pain was beginning to steal his breath away. "Ow!" He cried. "Ow!" His brain was at a loss and he literally couldn't think of anything better to shout.
With grim satisfaction, Logan stepped back when he heard a small sniffle and smelt the stench of sorry tears in the air. He walked to the corner behind his desk and snatched up a long, wooden ruler and gripped it tightly. "Only had to use this on Marie once." He admitted, thinking back to the time his usually well behaved slave had refused one of his orders. "She's avoided it since. Let's see how it works on you, Boy."
Gazing over his shoulder, a tearful Scott eyed the angry looking ruler and gulped. "But – But I'll be good now, Sir!" He promised, his hands resting on his sore bottom.
Logan snorted at that and raised the ruler high above his shoulder. "They all say that." He grunted, shaking his head. "I'm starting to figure all slaves need a butt beating before they start work."
The ruler landed with an almighty CRACK across Scott's thighs and he yelped with surprise, his legs kicking out in desperation.
"I'd move the hands if you don't want them all to the thighs." Logan added, sizing up the task at hand and landing another whack just below the weighty red line quickly spreading across the boy's pale thighs.
Snapping his teary eyes shut, Scott reluctantly removed his hands from his poor bottom and was instantly rewarded with another crack of the ruler. "Oww!"
"Now here's where I tell ya all about the rules." Wolverine began; landing the ruler on the boy's bottom time and again and watching it bounce off the pert cheeks. "I own your ass and that means you do as I say, when I say it. You cost me fifteen bucks and I expect you to work real hard for me."
Scott nodded, whimpering and wriggling over the desk.
"I didn't hear you, Slave." Logan growled, landing the ruler fiercely to the thighs once more.
"Yes, Sir!" Scott whimpered, tears rolling down his face.
"Good boy." He affirmed, smacking the ruler down and admiring the thick group of lines coupled with the handprints. "Now this can only work if you follow all my rules and they go a little like this." There was another thwack, followed by a cry from Scott. "Like I said, do what I say, when I say it." Whack! "I like to play rough and you're gonna have to deal with it. I don't want any pansy ass complaining because I bit too hard, you hear me?" Smack!
"Yes, Sir." The Slave answered, the pain shooting through his bottom and making his stomach bounce against the harsh wood.
Landing a quick flurry of smacks, Logan sighed. "And no moving when you're being punished. Keep it up and I'll start again with my belt."
"Yes, Sir." He whispered in a strained voice, his nails embedded in the soft wood.
"Good," Wolverine replied, looking down at the glowing ass before his eyes. "Looks like we're finally getting somewhere." Despite his words, he held the ruler up again and really started to lay into the boy.
Tears thundered down Scott's cheeks and he sobbed into the worried wood, his behind on absolute fire. "L-Logan!" He cringed, doing his best to stay still. "Logan, stop, please stop!"
Rolling his eyes, Logan was soon close to tearing his hair out. The cries were making his sensitive ears ring. "Yeah, yeah." He grunted, tossing the ruler to the side and watching it clang to the floor. "Computer: End simulation."
The eighteenth century scene was swept away in a wave of pixels, Rogue and Cyclops disappearing too, much to Logan's chagrin. He'd been enjoying living out his fantasies late at night instead of tossing and turning through another nightmare.
Heaving another sigh, he cracked his knuckles and was aching for a beer. "There's always tomorrow night." He muttered, taking a quick glance at his watch and seeing it would be dawn soon.
The lone and dangerous man wandered to the doors, his mind playing over the night's activities and his pants growing tighter by the second. He'd always thought the Danger Room was a playground for kids, but he was finally finding his own place in the holographic world. Hell, come next week who knows what could happen? Nobody ever turned down Wolverine after they'd caught sight of the load in his boxers, that was for sure.