(Eight)

Remy was a man with a plan and put it immediately into action. He brought his prize to a nice hotel close by, one he had frequented often in his younger, Rogue free days. He bought them the nicest room, ordering out for Room Service. He was sure to get something chocolate.

He was brim full of questions, but now that he had her trust, didn't want to push the issue. They would play and the questions would come later. He was a thief, a very good one, and he would steal his answers if he had to.

"Vous estes si joli, fille. Si beau, mon chere..." he whispered as he fed her chocolate and then made love to her. Gambit, ever the optimist, was so sure of his ability to connive and manipulate, that he truly believed he was in control of the situation. He slid that shimmering dress off of her and tossed it onto the floor carelessly as he dove into her, recklessly putting himself at risk.

The poor fool. He wasn't prepared for the strength of her desire and power.

From the moment his bare skin hit hers, he was all done. Babette's empathy was surprisingly powerful and she commanded him, taking him over almost immediately. There was one awkward moment when she saw his scars and was momentarily frightened enough for her control to temporarily slip.

He shushed her gently, whispered some soft reassurance, and then was swamped again when she was suddenly in his mind, flooding him with lust on a scale he had never felt before. It hit that part of his mind that had been driving him crazy lately with its strange cravings, finding a kindred spirit that seemed to leap for joy at what she was offering him. Her body seemed to whisper to him that it had what he'd been needing all this time and all he had to do was reach out and take it.

He did.

He caved instantly to the needs of his body like a Crack addict seeing a fix and took her roughly, making her laugh with happiness at his enthusiasm. He plunged into her and that crazy duality smashed into him instantly. At first things were normal, he felt himself making love to her but then he felt the slip and slide of himself inside of her as she felt it, as if he were the woman receiving him. He had anticipated it to a point because of his experiences with the Boston whores and braced himself, he wasn't as badly frightened by it because he suspected it might be coming. His lack of fear boosted the rush even more. There was nothing like it, like this, and his body couldn't handle it for long. He climaxed ridiculously early, blacking out almost immediately.

He woke a brief time later to her soft laughter. "Amusing that was, my dear," she chided gently. "But need a little more, me."

"Bien sur. Oui, chere..." he stammered lamely and she was kissing him again, robbing his mouth of all words. He was a little freaked out from blacking out and at how easily he had been manipulated. He knew normal empathy could be as strong as telepathy depending on the user, but this was the first time he had ever been controlled by it. Always he had resisted mind control, but here, he felt he had to give in a little to get what he wanted. That strange craving was back, more intensely than before, and he lost all reason, needing her again. His lack of resistance made this all the easier for her. He was the toy here, used for her sole amusement and had no say in the matter. He gave in willingly enough, all of his questions evaporated from her powerful kisses and they were back to playing the game.

His earlier heat was gone so he lasted longer this time, but he got no closer to those answers he so desperately wanted. No, all she did was give him a whole new list of questions. Her power stroked his mind and he realized on some dim level that she was controlling him completely, using his strange craving to her advantage. While he had once considered the possibility that Kimble's empathy was slightly different from the normal empathy of humans, he had no idea Kimble's power could be so powerful and manipulative.

He was her servant, all complaints evaporating as she made him feel pleasure like he had never felt it before. She rode his waves of ecstacy, building his lust once more. She kissed him and took him in her mouth, making him shiver and shake like thunder. Just when he thought he couldn't take it any more, she would back off in a tease and let him simmer some more. She was tormenting him with orgasmic pleasure and he was crazy for it.

He had gotten around, Remy had. He had learned a lot from that experience and it was often the case that when he was with a girl, he was the one in charge, conducting how it was going to go. That wasn't the situation here. All of his resistance was gone and he did as he was told, as she wanted him to do. He was completely submissive to her, an all new experience for him. His reward was a backwash of ecstacy on a level that could hardly be measured. Never had he been touched so well, stroked to such perfection. His skills looked like those of a newborn child compared to her vast knowledge. All those things he usually had to ask for from others, she already knew. The secret places to touch, to lick, to kiss. He shivered from every caress, from each stroke of her hands on his body. It was more than he could take. He climaxed violently again, shaking hard and blacking out once more, the new norm for his body's response to feeling this so intensely.

It took him longer this time to wake. He raised his head, drool leaking from his mouth, completely bewildered. He had no idea what day it was or how long he had been here. He wasn't sure if he knew who he was anymore. Babette was there beside him, petting him gently like a dog. "Poor dear, you. How tired you must be."

"Uhnn..." It was ungraceful, hardly a response worthy of a LeBeau - and it was all he could manage.

"Very good, you are," she replied, her eyes wistful. "Aiden would eat you up like candy."

"Who?" he slurred, his uncooperative tongue barely capable of articulating the question.

"A good friend, mine. Never mind. Hungry, are you?"

He was ravenous. He sat up drunkenly, his hair a total mess and his legs still shaking. He was hopelessly trashed. He blinked blearily as she handed him food and he ate it, at first mechanically, but then was smiling as the flavor of it seeped into him. He had taken some illegal drugs in his life, enough to know he was stoned now for sure. He was fogged, drugged, not even close to being on the top of his game. He didn't really mind, not at the moment. Nothing else felt like this, like what she had done to him. The food tasted grand and he ate well, pleasing her. He knew this because her shine told him so. It was speaking to him loudly now, enjoying his receptiveness. Her power was talking to his power like two long lost lovers. She spoke to him with no words, yet her message was quite clear to him. /You please me, Remy. I love you, Remy. Hurry up and eat so I can have you again, Remy. Yes, that's a good boy./

He ate his food and giggled like a child when she next dragged him into the shower. The heat of it felt good and he found a new joy, washing her. He cleaned her with skill, kissing her and tasting her all over again. Nothing felt as good as his hands sliding over her warm wet skin, slick with soap. She shivered and moaned, calling his name softly as she flooded him with the desire to please her.

Remy was only dimly aware of what was happening to him. He was making love to a living hologram, an empathic Siskan like Kimble, and she had used her power to control him completely, to bend him to her will. One small core center of his mind was screaming, rebellious against this strange slavery. If it wasn't for the backwash and the pleasure, he would be fighting this a lot more vigorously. It was this little Crack addict in him that was supporting this the most, as much as she seemed to be filling that void, it remained, begging for more, for something just out of reach.

He took her again in the shower, not caring when the hot water was gone. He couldn't resist her spell, her magic. It touched him in more than one place. It found that part of him that had been so miserable these past days and filled that huge void with an endless supply of pleasure and want. He could touch this woman without fear, she wasn't going to blow up, not her nor the room about them. If that cataclysmic event he had dreamed about was going to happen, it would have already. He hadn't been holding anything back - how could he in his current state of helplessness - but yet he never even felt a spark of energy leave his fingers nor did he whiff anything even start to burn. He was blacking out but that was all. He could enjoy this woman completely without fear of hurting her or himself. Just that one freedom returned to him meant so very much. He was a sexual animal, had been all his life, and he would never have tried to deny it. She was giving back to him a part of himself that he had try to shut down. It was fiercely liberating and he let go, allowing her to take him in every way she desired. He submitted to her will freely, weeping from the freedom she had given him.

Babette was having a blast, enjoying his attention thoroughly, but wouldn't let him finish her there in the shower, she was worried he would black out again and fall, injuring himself. She dashed away from him and he gave chase. They played like children, throwing pillows at each other and jumping on the bed. She laughed and laughed and he with her, trapped in this surreal dream. They fell to the floor in a tangle of blankets and sheets, giddy with laughter, and then he was making love to her again, this time slowly and with a strange kind of real love.

He was lost as her heat and heartbeat swelled up inside of his head, more powerfully than before. It made Rogue's love for him pale in comparison, making it feel false and not worthy of him. Babette was all he saw. It was as if they had a bond now, not unlike the one he had with Kimble. He was in thrall to her and would do anything she desired. There was only one thing she wanted. "Cum for me, Remy. Cum for me, there's a good boy. Yes!"

He was filled to the brim with more ecstacy and passion than he could contain and he climaxed with a sharp cry to her soft laughter. He had been played and used and at this moment of pure bliss, he couldn't have cared less. He blacked out again, his mind numb.

He woke moments later, his body shaking and his mind gone. He was done now, he had reached his limit. First of all, he had never gone off so many times in such rapid succession in so little time. It never would have happened without her mental influence and his body was wasted. But there was more. He shivered against her and clung to her like a child, all of his mental defenses stripped away. It was a hard fall from an unnatural high. He lay bare, open to her and she saw into his mind and knew of his pain. His need for love and acceptance resonated like an instrument and she played it, calming him and loving him. She embraced him willingly, touching him and soothing him like no other. "Don't be afraid," she whispered softly, cradling him like a baby.

He shivered there, weak. He was frightened by how easily she had torn through all of his barriers. The Professor, a powerful telepath, had trouble getting through his mental defenses, even when Remy had first come to be with the X-men. "What did you do t' me?" he gasped, unable to control his trembling.

"Very receptive to the backwash, you are. Sorry am I. Wrong about you I was," she said softly with wonder. "This pain you have is like no other I have felt. You never lay with your Siskan, you? Or felt this before, you would have."

"Non. 'E ask an I say non."

"Whatever for? Love him you do. Felt this I did," she asked with genuine surprise.

"I was afraid," he replied, being very candid in spite of her being a complete stranger. It was a result of the barriers being tossed away. "Stupid, huh?"

"Yes," she agreed, running her hands through his thick, auburn hair and giving him another calming, reassuring vibration. "He would never have hurt you, him. Where is he now?"

"Someone stole him from me," he said softly, almost crying. She had blown his mind and with it, all of his control. His grief was all too obvious. "Gambit's been lookin' all over. I can't find 'im."

"Found his angel he has?"

"Ain't sure. Don' know what 'is angel is." He looked up at her. "Can you 'elp me?"

"Perhaps my Master can. All I can say, until he finds his angel, he won't be harmed, him."

"You...you find your angel?"

"Not yet. My Master said that know what it is I will, when I find it. Until then, no clue have I what I'm looking for, me. Maybe it's you," she teased.

Remy snorted playfully, still trying to play the game. Truth was, he didn't know if he was going to cry or scream or both. "Doubt dat. Dis boy been 'cuzed of may t'ings, but bein' an angel...dat's a new one." He changed tack, wanting more. "Who's yo' Master? Are dere more Siskans dere like you?"

"Trishnar my Master is and, yes, there are six of us."

Gambit couldn't hide his relief that she didn't belong to Jael. Perhaps he could use this. "Can you take me to see yo' Master? Gambit gotta speak wit 'im."

"No. Didn't know I was out, him. Get in trouble I will."

"You 'ave to 'elp me find Kimble, Babette, s'il vous plait!" he pleaded, disgusted with his own apparent weakness. He was used to being suave and in control as he seduced answers from his prey, but at this moment he was at his wits end. He was trembling and thrashing a little. He had taken this risk in an effort to gain answers and had achieved nothing for it, something new for him.

She felt it and kissed him to calm him down. "Relax, relax. Just need some time, me. Have you a number where reach you I can, me?"

He reached down into the snarl of his clothing and retrieved a small business card. It only had his name and cell phone number written on it. He scrawled the address of the Xavier school on the back with the hotel pen. "Dis where I live."

"Long way from home you are."

"Came down N'Orleans way to see my father."

"See what I can do I will," she said, kissing him and pulling away. "Sleep now."

"Wait!" he cried, tugging on her arm. "I need -"

She leaned down and kissed him again, silencing his protests. As she released him she whispered, "Sorry about the backwash, me. Feel better in the morning you will. I promise. Sleep."

At her final word, Remy felt a switch get pulled in his mind and he was instantly asleep.

Babette stood over him a minute, brushing his hair back. This one was truly lovely, a treasure. She was glad she had found him tonight. It was true she had been sneaking out as Kimble had been. Like him, her need for that love and acceptance was much too strong for her to be contained. This tumble had been better than most. The majority of men she had found were boring business men with nothing very exciting to say. This one...he had been full of life, of adventure. It was a shame the backwash had undone the poor boy, it had seriously boosted the rush for her. She felt tingly, alive. She decided she would do his favor and speak with her Master. She didn't really fear his wrath for sneaking out, he was a good man, not a monster like Creed. Her Master was wise, he would know what to do.

(break)

Gambit groaned and woke to loud thumping on his door. "Juz'a minnute..." he wheezed, staggering to his feet. He had no clue where he was, his eyes barely registered the hotel furnishings around him. If the thumping hadn't been so insistent, he would have ignored it.

He got halfway to the door before he realized he was naked. He grabbed the sheet from the floor (it had been raped from the bed for that last tumble on the floor) and sloppily wrapped it around himself as he staggered to the door. He was in a total fog and had no real clue what was going on. He opened the door a crack and peered out into the face of a maid. "Eh? What you want, chere?"

"Housekeepin', Sugah," she said, grinning at him. She called to her friend. "Hey, Shirl, look at dis po' boy. He done had himself too good a night, uh huh."

The other maid came closer and squinted at him. "Well, look it 'ere. If it isn't young Master Remy LeBeau not so young anymore. Ain't seen your shinin' face 'round 'ere in while, son."

Remy opened the door a little wider and grinned, still the clown even in his fog. He smiled at his favorite maid from this well known hotel. He used to come here quite frequently in his younger, wilder days. "Bonjour. Little early fo' dis, ain't it, Shirl?"

She just laughed. "It's well after noon, son. You got a half hour 'til checkout. We'll be nice an' give you a chance ta wash up some. Just 'cause it's you," she said and moved on, shaking her head at him with a smile.

He closed the door, thumping his head against the wood and just leaned there, too wasted to move. His body was one huge bruise, aching as if he'd had one hell of a workout in the Danger Room. Babette had worked him over good. Speaking of which, he glanced around him to see if she was still here. She wasn't, the room was empty. No real surprise there, it wasn't the first time he woke up alone and it probably wouldn't be the last. Hopefully she would call him.

He sighed, still exhausted, but tingly all over in a good way. He casually wondered if it would be possible for him to ever have normal sex again. Would he enjoy it without the backwash and the blackouts? He shuddered from remembered arousal, stunned his body had anything left to respond with. His head thumped against the door again as he began to laugh, his spirits higher than a kite.

You one sick boy now, dat's fo' sure. Kimble done ripped you apart, he thought to himself, unable to stop the giddy laughter coming from him. It had been so long since he had heard it, not with the intense happiness he was feeling now. He felt good, so good to be alive. He wiped his eyes and answered his own anxious thought with a joyful one. Yeah, but it sure feel good. It like nuthin' else.

He groaned again and got his butt moving. He had to shower and get out of here. No one knew where he was, it was time to head on home before they sent the cavalry after him.

He made his way to the shower, reviving as the hot water washed over him. His mind was waking, too, and running over with questions. What was another Siskan doing here? She had nothing to do with Fallen and must have gotten here by some other means. She had said she belonged to someone other than Jael. Just how many people were living here collecting these special holograms? Was her Master even human?

Some small part of him, the one in tune with his new gift answered his question for him, /No. Trishnar doesn't sound like a human name to me. But you are wise to consider him important. Perhaps he is someone you can use to help you find your Kimble. Pursue him./

Gambit balked a little, surprised to hear this voice again so clearly. It suddenly occurred to him that when Babette gave him a boost with her power, it had been a permanent thing. What else had she done to change him? He swallowed his fear and sent out another question. Who's dis talkin' to me?

The voice was playful and coy, just like himself. /Give me a name and I will tell you./

Give you a name? Gambit asked in confusion, but then paused. What had his Tante said? "Give it a name and make it your friend."

Okay, chere. Gambit play yo' game. You sound like a girl to me, Gambit call you Shi'ow-ri.

/The Whisperer in Siskan? Yes, I rather like that. It's appropriate. I'm the Whisperer. I'm here to help you. Let's have another question shall we? Did you like what Babette did for you? Imagine that feeling and Kimble. What does it make you think?

He chuckled softly now, enjoying having someone to bounce ideas off of, even if was just himself going mad. He recalled pleasantly how easily he had been controlled by Babette. It had been very nice, actually. Was that how it was for Sabretooth at the hands of his Kimble?

/No, Shi'ow-ri replied in her soft gentle whisper. /Creed would never lie submissive. This is how Kimble feels. He is subservient, but rewarded. He felt his Master's love and was ensnared. This is what it's like to be possessed, to be taken over. He won't fight it, just as you did not. The only reason you are free now is because Babette walked away./

Gambit shuddered a little at that thought. She was gone and yet he couldn't wait to have her again. He grumbled, banishing that kind of thinking. He would have to tail her, he couldn't trust her to speak to her Master on his behalf. Trouble was, how would he find her again?

/Don't get off point, playtime is over. I was talking about Kimble! / she scolded playfully with a laugh. /If Kimble is in thrall to his Master, you've got some serious work cut out for you. He won't be so easily taken away. You will have to harden yourself for battle, dear one. It won't be easy to bring him back to you...or painless./

You gonna 'elp me do fo' 'im? Gambit need all de 'elp 'e can get, chere.

/Of course. What else are friends for?