Ensnared

by Wiccamage

While wallowing over another failed date with Remy, Rogue is caught up in a sinister plot, leaving her drugged and nearly violated. When she is rescued by her enemy, will she be able to resist his advances, or will she fall victim to the delicious drugs and his ability to touch her? And are his desires and machinations sincere, or is she just a pawn in his game? TWs! XMen Evo

Author's Note:

This one is dark. And explicit. Like, '50 Shades of Grey' style with the 'intimate scenes'. Definitely NSFW.
Trigger warnings for drugged S*x, Attempted Non/Con, etc.

This is meant to be a one shot. There are machinations in my head for what would happen after a plot began developing in my head. If you want to read my comments on AO3, there's a basic outline.

Please let me know if you think I need to edit this to be less explicit for FFN. I don't want to get banned or something.

~X~X~X~X~X~

ENSNARED

~X~X~X~X~X~

Rogue hung her head over her Southern Lemonade from her corner table and looked up at the clock above the bartender with bleary, bloodshot eyes.

4:00

She hadn't had more than three drinks since she'd walked in at 2pm - barely enough to feel a buzz - but her eyes were red and swollen regardless.

She'd been crying.

Crying for what felt like DAYS instead of the hour or two it had been since Remy had stormed out of the restaurant at lunch. He'd dropped a handful of bills on the table to cover their untouched meal and a cab for her, then left in a cloud of anger and hurt. The tears had started the moment she'd heard his bike tear out of the parking lot and down the block.

They just couldn't seem to get this relationship thing right.

Rogue had left enough money on the table to pay for the food and a small tip. She briefly considered leaving the entire amount just to spite Remy. Their MALE waiter (much to Remy's dismay) had been subpar at best, and leaving the man a $100 tip after he'd flirted with Rogue in front of her 'date' would be quite a rub for the card thrower.

Instead, she'd taken the extra money and decided rather impulsively to stay the weekend in New York City. She wouldn't be able to afford much in the way of a decent hotel, but still she'd called and left Xavier a voicemail about taking time off. Within an hour, Kitty had texted her, informing her that Gambit had made it back to the mansion and was already wondering where she was as he moped around, looking guilty. She'd replied that she was staying in the city over the weekend. That she wanted a few days to be alone and figure things out. She'd be home again by Sunday night.

All she had to wear was the cap-sleeved sparkly green dress she'd worn to their date. Completing the outfit was long, opera length green gloves, sheer nylons, and a pair of black stilettos.

She chuckled. She certainly looked out of place wearing this fancy outfit in a dive bar. In fact, it wasn't an ensemble she normally would pick for herself, but it had been a Christmas gift from Remy a few years back when he'd first joined the X-Men and started pursuing her. And, it was secretly one of her favorites.

As Rogue gingerly sipped her Southern Comfort mixer, her lip trembled anew and she bit down on it harshly.

Damn him, but Remy had been right. A huge part of why they had so many problems as a 'couple' was her inability to relax around him, to let him touch her in any way, even though she was covered up. She tried to wrap her mind around what her problem was, why she was so TERRIFIED of something as small as his lips against the back of her hand, but her brain was fuzzy from booze and crying, and she gave up trying to psychoanalyze herself. It just made her head hurt.

Sighing, Rogue watched a handful of rowdy, drunken men leave the bar as others entered. She paid for her drinks and stood, albeit a bit wobbly. Damn but she was a lightweight if she couldn't handle two measly drinks. She still had to find a hotel, too, and her speech was slightly slurred.

Thick with her southern accent, and a few shots of SoCo, she asked the bartender for recommendations on a cheap place to stay the night. He'd pointed out a place down the block with decent rates and she'd left him a tip that should have been for her cab.

She left the bar feeling sicker and more unstable by the minute. As she made her way past the edge of the building, tripping once or twice on an uneven crack in the sidewalk, she heard a commotion - something like muted crying and begging coming from down the alley, around the back of the bar.

Part of her wanted to just keep walking. Head to the hotel, get a room, and sleep for three days straight. The other part of her, who was an X-Man - and horrendously valiant - couldn't let well enough alone that someone MIGHT be in trouble.

At least her slight inebriation didn't supersede her training, she thought, as she tiptoed through the shadows of the darkened alley. Behind the back of the building she finally saw what had caused the commotion: four men, the ones who had left the bar only a few minutes ago (one of whom had offered to buy her a drink) were sitting on their knees, hands bound behind their backs with what looked like metal rope. They were facing her direction and she saw metal plating wrapped around their mouths, eyes wide with fear and terror. Bands of metal encircled their throats and chests as well, slowly squeezing the life out of them.

And, standing between her and the men, not 10 feet away, was a large, ominous figure in a purple cape and matching metal helmet.

Magneto.

Rogue barely suppressed a gasp as she took stock of the situation. She pulled the communicator out of her purse silently, but knew she didn't have the time - or opportunity - to call for backup. Plus, her brain was still playing catch up with her instincts. She only knew she needed to act quickly as Magneto slowly tightened the bands around the men's throats and chests while he monologued. She took off her gloves and high heeled shoes, leaving them in the alley with her purse. Thank god she wasn't wearing jewelry for once.

Putting a bare finger to her lips, she made eye contact with one of the men very briefly as she snuck out of the shadows toward the master of magnetism. In response, the man started thrashing harder, making enough noise to cover her silent footsteps on the pavement.

"I must say while I'm disappointed that you refuse to cooperate, I'm nonetheless pleased to have you at my mercy. I intended to spend many more nights gathering intel, but I'm afraid you've forced my hand with your most recent… target. You may not be the only ones in your operation, but now, you will perish as well… "

"Ah don't think so, bucket head!" She had launched herself onto his back, hand already on his cheek before delivering her retort. Gambit's incessant warnings to not show your hand until the cards were on the table played in the back of her mind.

Magneto tried to fling her off, but her ankles locked around his stomach, one arm around his throat and the other, bare hand sucking the energy and power out of his body. His wild movements made her a little sick, however, and her vision danced in time with her stomach.

She REALLY shouldn't have had that second drink.

"Rogue!" he shouted, clawing at her hand and back as he started to lose consciousness.

"In the flesh," she smiled as he dropped to his knees and finally succumbed to her power of absorption.

Rogue quickly turned toward Magneto's victims, waving her hand and causing their metal chains to fall away.

"Y'all all-alright?" she slurred, trying to differentiate between the real men and their copies as her eyes crossed and their faces swirled.

Her stomach was turning and her head was pounding, but she couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol, or the absorption.

She tottered as she turned her back on the men, who were rubbing their wrists and standing. Quickly manipulating the metal that had just imprisoned them, it took her a few tries to wrap it around Magneto's wrists and ankles. She spied some rope, duct tape, and other such materials in a pile nearby and used her new magnetic manipulation abilities to hook them with a metal hanger and bring them over, securing the subdued mutant's wrists like Wolverine had taught her.

The world spun more and more as she continued using Magneto's powers, and she cast a quick glance at the four men who were still standing around behind her.

"Y'all better get out of here and call the police. No tellin' how long that'll keep h- Ooof!"

Rogue suddenly pitched forward, a forceful blow to the back of her head knocking her off Magneto's back as soon as she'd secured the rope on his wrists.

She tried to move, knowing she needed to touch Magneto to knock him out again. But when she looked up, she found the Master of Magnetism still unconscious.

"Wha -?" She pushed herself up on her hands and knees only to take a foot to the ribs. The force of the blow caused her to roll a few times and she ended up on her stomach a few feet away from Magneto. Her eyes were level with a pair of black, military style boots, and she looked up to see the man from the bar.

The man with the greasy black hair who had offered to buy her a drink.

The man who had looked at her with venom and hunger when she'd turned him down.

The man who, apparently, had been less of a victim and more of a threat.

"Looks like we caught this one with our special cocktail after all…" the oily man sneered.

"What about gramps?" Another voice from the side asked, kicking Magneto once to ensure he was down for the count, too.

Rogue raised her head to see a dozen men where there had been only four a moment ago. One of them - or were there three? - raised a gun, pointing it at Magneto. She reacted instinctively, reaching out with his powers of magnetism to fling the blasters skyward and over the buildings. The railings and bars Magneto had threatened them with shook, levitating slowly as she tried to get a grip on the twisting sensations in her brain and stomach.

It was all she could do before she was kicked violently in the ribs and all the metal in the alley clattered to the ground. She moaned, pulling her knees to her chest as tears leaked from her eyes.

"This one has potential," one of the men muttered. She felt a foot dig into her hip and roll her onto her back as she groaned. "We'll take her back to the compound. Bettin' she'll fetch us a pretty bounty."

Rogue tried to open her eyes again, but her lids were heavy and her brain was bouncing around between giddy hysteria, abject horror, and seething anger. Not to mention there was something ELSE going on with her body - aside from a nasty bump on the head. For whatever reason, her loins were practically writhing with indescribable hunger despite the seriousness of her situation.

A pair of hands reached under her armpits, lifting her slightly.

"Hold up there, I wanna have my fun with her first," the gruff, oily voice spoke again.

"You saw what she did to that guy with just a touch, don't you think…"

"So we don't TOUCH her," the oily voice responded. "Gimme a rubber, huh? And you three, hold her down just in case."

Rogue's arms were pulled roughly behind her back, wrenching her shoulders painfully. She tried to kick out, but she couldn't tell which of the dancing figures was real. Before her feet could connect with something, her knees were drawn up by two more men on either side, leaving her untouched apex splayed wide, the only barrier between it and them was her white lacy panties and the sheer nylons.

Her tongue felt like it was made of cotton as she struggled to figure out a way out of this mess.

She blinked against the swimming images, trying to remember how her powers worked, how to access those she had just stolen from Magneto. But she could already feel him and his powers fading from her mind.

Rough, gloved hands sliding up her nylon covered thighs drew her attention back to the man in front of her and she was just able to make out a head of greasy black hair as it bent over her. Her vision failed again as she felt a hand grab a fistful of the sheer fabric over her groin. Her body was throbbing in all the wrong places, or all the RIGHT ones, if the situation had been different, and it finally occurred to her that she'd been drugged.

One knife became three as it cut a hole into the material and hovered near her opening. She saw a penis - the first she'd ever viewed with her OWN eyes - sheathed in a condom as it stood erect and waiting to….

Finally, she managed to come to her senses enough to use her most basic utilities.

She screamed as loud and long as she could.

"Shut her up before someone hears!" One of her arms was released briefly as a gloved hand clamped over her mouth.

"You are far too late for that..." A cold, low voice teeming with danger and malice addressed the men. Rogue's eyes flitted up, away from the man about to rape her, to see Magneto hovering, hellfire in his eyes. The man in front of her, with his penis hanging between his zipper and 'protected' in a condom, suddenly screamed - a bloodcurdling, agonizing shriek, as the zipper suddenly closed itself, severing his hardening erection. Rogue scarcely had time to realize what had happened when the knife he was holding near her apex lodged itself into his throat as if it had come alive on its own.

Swiftly, the other three men - two holding her legs aloft, and one with her arms behind her back were skewered on the spot, spikes of rebar, fences, and discarded silverware impaling them through their chests and throats. Rogue's vision was washed in fountains of red as images of the men choking on their own blood swirled in triplicate. More metal wrapped around their mouths and heads, squeezing so violently and so quickly that there was a sudden 'pop' and she gasped as she was showered in blood and brains.

She felt, more than saw, the four bodies slump around her before her own body levitated gently into the air, supported by more metal that encircled her own wrists, ankles, and waist. The last thing she felt before blacking out was a warm, chiseled chest caressing her cheek.

~X~X~X~

Mmm, wha-?" Rogue woke slowly, a bare hand trying to scrub the fog from her brain. The sun filtered through unfamiliar black curtains, strips of gold illuminating her ivory skin and the mottled, angry bruises forming on her wrists.

As her eyes alighted on the dark fingerprints, she drew her gaze down, realizing her entire arm was bare and she was enveloped in the softest, smoothest blankets she'd ever felt. Every inch of her bare skin luxuriated in the material and her eyes raked further down, feeling the softness on far more skin than she should have.

Her vision swam as she realized she was shirtless, clad only in her white lace bra and matching panties. Even her sheer nylon pantihose were missing, and she suddenly bolted upright, clutching the opulent blanket tightly to her chest.

"Oh…" she moaned immediately as the world spun again and she fought a wave of nausea.

A tall figure emerged from a darkened doorway to her right, alerted by her apparent return to consciousness.

Three identical, undefinable shapes danced and slowly merged together, creating one vaguely familiar body. She knew it was a man by the bare, muscular chest and wide shoulders, but she couldn't make out much else. He had something in his hands, but that was as much as her eyes could discern in her drugged, probably concussed, state.

"R-Remy?" she muttered as the figure stared at her, unmoving. Her heart jumped hopefully for a moment, certain that only her Cajun would have been so brazen as to rescue and then undress her - not to mention he was the only one she knew with a penchant for lavish textures and bed sheets.

"Tss," the figure clucked, his rich, rumbling patois both amused and annoyed. "I am loathe to be compared to such an uncouth miscreant."

Rogue sucked in a sharp breath as fear, confusion, and the damned drugs - probably GHB by the way her libido seemed to be reacting to his shirtless state - raced through her brain. The quick intake agitated something in her side where the thugs had kicked her, contorting her snarl into a wheeze.

"Mag-neto," she tried to suppress a cough and hold the blanket up to her chin simultaneously, and her attempt at viciousness shattered like a pretty glass vase against concrete.

The bastard even laughed at her.

"No need for hostility, my dear. I did not bring you here to accost you."

Rogue swallowed hard and tightened her hold on the blanket as the silver haired man came closer.

"Really?" she hissed, shifting uncomfortably from her position on his bed while wearing nothing but her underwear. "Then what the HELL do you call this? Where are mah clothes?!"

Her eyes flitted to whatever he was holding, unsure if it was a knife, or shackles, a collar, or …

A … washcloth?

Indeed, as he came within a few feet, she saw that gripped tightly in his right fist was what USED to be a white washcloth. The color had been perverted into a grotesque pink by what could only be blood. She reached up with a pale, trembling hand and felt around her face and head, hunting for a matching wound.

"Do not fret. The blood is not yours."

Another gasp, this time accompanied by a wince. One hand covered her throat with the blanket as the other flew to her mouth.

"They -they're dead, ain't they? Y - ya killed 'em?"

Magneto nodded, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. His right leg tucked under his body as he reached across to touch the washcloth to her forehead, sensuously dragging it down the side of her face and neck until reaching the clavicle.

Rogue watched him for a moment, eyes glassy with sudden, overwhelming lust. Her lids flitted closed, chest heaving from the intoxicating sensation. Or maybe she was still just intoxicated.

"How - how long have Ah been out?" She finally managed, her voice quivering from anxiety, pain, and an intense, inebriated need for physical contact.

Fuck. Definitely GHB. Hadn't Logan taught her better than to drink alone in public?

"A few hours," Magneto replied, chuckling lightly as he noted her dilated pupils and rising flush. "I'm surprised your team has not yet come looking for you." He turned the cloth over, eyes darkening as he noted how his soft ministrations were affecting her.

Rogue licked her lips and swallowed hard as the master of magnetism shifted CLOSER to her and repeated the same motions with the cloth on the other side of her head.

"Uh…" she struggled to remember what she was trying to say; struggled just to keep her eyes open as her vision swam again. "Where - where am I? Why d'ja bring me here?"

"My apartment. I'm afraid the location of which must be kept from you for my own safety. And what alternative did I have?" Magneto scoffed, as if the question itself were ridiculous. "Leave you there, drugged and helpless with 4 mangled corpses? You're a mutant, Rogue, they would have given you the death penalty for MY actions."

Images of a penis, severed and spurting blood, of brain matter coating her face, blood covering nearly every inch of her clothes … and those men who had held her down and tried to…

Rogue's already flushed, yet pale face must have shifted a few shades of green, as there was suddenly a wastebasket floating in front of her face. She immediately, and irreverently, deposited the meager contents of her stomach into the bin.

She failed to contain a whimper as she gagged a few more times and breathed through her nose, trying to get her body back under control.

Meanwhile, Magneto silently folded the pink-tinted cloth over, presenting her with a clean, white, corner.

Shakily, she took the cloth and dabbed her mouth while the megalomaniac leaned over to a nearby nightstand and picked up an open water bottle.

He exchanged the cloth for the bottle and the liquid sloshed and spilled down her chin, dripping onto his impossibly soft blanket as she struggled to hold the container to her lips.

She took a few more sips, then wiped her chin with her bare forearm, looking down at the blanket as it dropped into her lap. She handed the water bottle back to him, her whole body shaking lightly as she tried to nonchalantly bring the blanket back up to cover herself.

"S-Sorry, Ah hope Ah didn't …"

She blushed from the tips of her ears to the tops of her breasts as he watched her intently.

"Think nothing of it. It is only water. I would not have put you to bed with wet hair if I had been worried about it ruining my linens."

Wet… What?

Her free hand fingered her wild, still damp tresses. Her white locks - which, at last account, had been covered in blood and brains - were back to their original color and smelling a bit like vanilla and Old Spice.

"Did … did you…?" Rogue's breathing changed again, coming in quick, panicky gasps as her body trembled again.

"Yes," Magneto answered simply, again behaving as if such intimate actions held no more significance than changing a flat tire.

Or massacring four men.

This time he smirked at her look of horror. "My bedsheets can withstand a bit of water. Blood, on the other hand, WOULD ruin them. And I don't intend to replace $2,000 linens because of your ridiculous need for modesty. Your lingerie is no different than that of a swimsuit model, if not even LESS revealing," his voice was even and serious, but his eyes were soft, dancing with humor.

Gaping at the master of magnetism's attempt at a JOKE, Rogue tucked the incredibly soft blanket around her chest more tightly. She did not laugh, instead taking a moment to look around and try to get her bearings - or at least make the room stop spinning.

Regardless of how bad off she was physically, of how badly the drugs in her system were insisting that being bathed like a newborn was impossibly HOT, she knew somewhere in her brain that this was all wrong. That she needed to get out of there.

Unfortunately, she felt an almost giddy excitement that she couldn't quite quell, and her emotions kept bouncing between lust, euphoria, and terror.

"Wh- where's my clothes," she asked finally, her voice wavering as she looked around for her ruined garments.

"In the wash. I HAD considered simply burning them, but thought it would raise eyebrows if you returned home in a different outfit."

Rogue's gaze fell on Magneto, his words breaking through some of the drug addled part of her senses. "You - you're gonna let me leave? Ah can go home?"

The silver-haired man chuckled again, smiling lightly. "Of course. You are not my prisoner, Rogue. I may not appreciate your knack for foiling my plans, but I mean you no harm. Unlike those Friends of Humanity scum."

"Friends of … what?" she asked, her stomach churning a little at the memory of them holding her knees so they could…

Her body trembled again.

When did the room become so cold?

"Friends of Humanity," Magneto explained. "They are humans who HUNT mutants. They have set up operations in that club and all over town. The drug they laced your drink with is designed to react to mutant DNA. It contains GHB and several other unrecognized compounds. Mutants will quickly become inebriated, debilitated targets while humans have no reaction whatsoever.

Rogue shuddered again, feeling simultaneously cold and hot as she realized how damn LUCKY she'd gotten. Despite using her powers against Magneto, he had ultimately SAVED her instead of letting those men hurt her. And he was still sitting on the edge of the bed, close enough for her to touch, to knock out with her powers and escape.

"H-How?"

The thought of absorbing him made her head throb and her stomach churn, so she listened quietly, trying to glean some sense of the words spilling from his mouth.

"That I have not determined. I was securing information when I saw you walk in. They were planning to attack you as you left. I intercepted them, then you intercepted me."

Still shivering, Rogue bit her lip. "Yeah. Guess ah should apologize for that. I thought…"

"You thought I was murdering them in cold blood simply because they were human."

She dropped her eyes as Magneto rose from the bed and walked back to the bathroom, returning a moment later with a clean, wet washcloth. Before he returned to her, he went to a wardrobe nearby and pulled a large comforter from the cabinet as well.

"Lie back," he instructed crisply as he approached.

"Wha-? N-No," she stuttered, eyes widening. "Ah - ah need t' go."

"You need rest," Magneto warned, his features hardening as she argued and tried to climb off the bed. He moved to stand in front of her, effectively blocking her retreat.

She stared up at him, eyes glassy yet dilated, cheeks flushed yet pale, jaw set stubbornly yet trembling.

He put a hand against her blanket covered shoulder and pushed her back onto the bed, forcing her to recline.

She heard him chuckle as she attempted, in vain, to resist. He had more strength in his little finger than she possessed in her whole body right now, and they both knew it. Especially with the room spinning randomly.

"You may be concussed, Rogue. Not that I can say you don't deserve it for interfering," his eyes darkened angrily, and in response Rogue's grew wider. She moved to sit up again, looking around for a means of escape, but flopped back down, spent.

"Ah - ah thought you said ah wasn't yoh prisoner," she whispered back from her prone position, her body trembling harshly.

He huffed, sitting back on the edge of the bed and draping the wet washcloth over her forehead before shaking out the ivory comforter and placing it over the top of the silky soft, blue blanket.

"I did. And you are not. But you ARE under my care for the time being, and I demand obedience. Now, rest."

Rogue snorted in derision, as if she would - or could - argue. But her eyelids were impossibly heavy and she quickly complied, willingly or not.

~X~

By the time Rogue woke again, the sun had sunk beyond the horizon, bathing the fluffy clouds in cotton candy pinks, purples, and oranges.

The X-Man moaned, an acute pain pulsing in her ribs and the back of her head. She slowly became cognizant of an ice pack behind her head and shivered as goosebumps skittered over the exposed flesh of her arms, chest, and stomach.

Green eyes fluttered open, looking down at her side as her ribs suddenly protested again. A sharp breath, sucked between her teeth, was compelled by the sight before her.

Aside from her lacy white bra, she was bare from the waist up, the blankets tucked low across her hips. Magneto was kneeling on the floor at her side, his thumb pushing and prodding at the angry purple bruises along her ribs.

She started to reach for the blankets, trying in vain to recover some sense of modesty, when he grabbed her wrist. "Leave it. Not until I'm done examining you."

The shock of being practically naked in front of her enemy took a back seat to the stark realization that he was touching her - bare skin to bare skin.

And she wasn't absorbing him.

"Oh!" she gasped, sitting up on her elbows to stare at his hand. "Oh - oh mah gawd! What the - what the hell did you do t' me!" Fear, giddiness, and something more bubbled up in her chest as she looked from the man to her wrist and back again.

Magneto chuckled, amused by her reaction. "I assure you, I've done nothing to you - or your powers. You simply cannot harm me."

"I - I… HOW?" Rogue marveled, gingerly propping herself up on her elbows as Magneto released her wrist.

"Electromagnetic energy field. After you nearly bested me with Angel, I began devising ways of ensuring it did not happen again. It took a good deal of practice - trial and error - but I've been able to prove my hypothesis most effectively. Unfortunately you managed to take me by surprise in the alley and I was unable to react in time." His tone of voice, wrapped in both ire and haughty amusement, made Rogue's heart pound.

He paid her nervousness no mind, however, and continued probing her ribs, eliciting another hiss of pain as he hit a tender spot. Climbing onto the bed with her, he must have recognized her rising panic as she attempted to scoot farther away.

"Be still," he commanded, leaning over her and placing his right hand on her small waist. "As I've said, I wish you no harm."

Rogue froze immediately, swallowing hard as she stared at him. Before she knew he could TOUCH her, her partial nudeness had been disconcerting and embarrassing. Now it was downright terrifying. Those Friend of Humanity bastards had tried to rape her in SPITE of her skin, quickly devising a way around her mutation. They'd quickly put to practice what Remy had been begging her to try for YEARS.

Magneto had no such obstacle, AND he had already bathed and undressed her.

The breath in her lungs turned to liquid fire as she felt his hand rub gently and carefully over the skin on her ribs, just below the hem of her bra. His fingers smoothed over the taut, flawless skin of her stomach, sending a buzz of electricity across her virgin flesh. Terror gave way to something more carnal as a wave of lust and headiness washed over her face.

The drugs had not yet left her system, she realized, as her head lolled back on raised shoulders. She bit her lip to hold back a moan of pleasure.

"Mmmmmm…"

So much for holding back. Rogue's cheeks turned crimson and Magneto snickered.

"I trust you don't find me so threatening now, hmm?"

She didn't dare look at his face, turning her head away from him as he continued to lean over her torso. He was far too close for comfort, and her libido - not to mention the GHB - was making her body react in ways her mind was trying valiantly to fight.

It was a battle destined for failure.

"Roll over," the master of magnetism commanded. When she hesitated, Magneto put both hands on her hips, his fingers sliding under the safety of the blanket, to carefully, yet forcefully, turn her onto her stomach. The brief, yet rough contact set her face aflame and her breath came in short panting gasps.

Thick, calloused digits strolled over her back, examining scrapes and pressing into aching muscles. Strong thumbs brushed aside the hair at the base of her neck, revealing the vicious bruises.

"You're incredibly lucky they did not crack your skull - or worse," Magneto marveled, his hand still drifting carelessly over the smooth, ivory flesh of her spine.

Rogue tried valiantly to control her breathing and drug addled hormones as he caressed his way across her back and shoulders. Her teeth were buried so deep into her tongue she could taste blood.

"No fewer than a dozen mutants have gone missing from this area in the last six months - mostly beautiful young women such as yourself - who eventually turn up mutilated and dead. I've read the police reports - several were likely held prisoner for weeks, tortured and …mistreated."

A soft, feminine gasp followed the slide of her bra strap down her arm, fingertips replaced with lips.

"I - Ah need t' go," she insisted again, making no move to leave the bed as the trembling returned and her eyes glazed over. The room was spinning again and she shut her eyes tightly.

"Go where?" Magneto insisted, sliding the other strap down her shoulder sensuously.

The X-Man's pulse stuck in her throat as moisture pooled elsewhere.

"H-home. They're expectin' me."

"Do not LIE to me, Rogue," Magneto hissed, making her flinch. "You told your friend you were taking the weekend off. You aren't expected for another two days. Wouldn't you rather… stay awhile?"

Cold fear slid from her throat down to her stomach, mixing with the warmth of pleasure his hands were invoking as they tenderly massaged her sore shoulders. No one would miss her for two more days. She could potentially be at the madman's mercy for 48 hours. And he KNEW it.

And she did not have the strength, or will, to fight. It was taking every ounce of energy to keep herself from jumping him right there. She tried valiantly to think of all the reasons she hated Magneto, all the reasons she SHOULDN'T succumb to… whatever this was.

"For what it's worth, Remy is a fool," he whispered in her ear.

That did it.

Lusty fear fell to fury, and Rogue turned abruptly, slapping the master of magnetism harshly across the face.

"How DARE you spy on me!" she railed, spitting fire as her eyes darkened not in lust, but in rage. "Mah life is none of yoh business! - Let me go!"

Magneto had grabbed her wrists, holding their meager strength in one hand.

"Do NOT strike me again, my dear. You'll find my temper - and hospitality - will only stretch so far," he warned, his icy gray eyes dark and menacing. "I will release you once you are calm."

Her chest heaved and burned as she tried to reign in her own temper. Her body was trembling again - be it from cold, anger, or hormones she wasn't sure. Her bra straps hung loosely across her upper arms, the white lace at her bosom barely containing the soft, round mounds within.

"Tell me," Magneto questioned, his voice calm and even as he searched her face. "Do you truly wish to leave? Knowing what you could have…? What you might be missing…?"

His other hand - the one NOT holding her wrists captive - crawled up her arm, replacing the dangling strap on her right shoulder, trailing along her lithe, pale neck, past the quickened pulse at her throat, and resting on her jaw. His fingers lifted her chin to meet his eyes and he was almost surprised to see moisture - tears of suffering, anger, and desire - pooling amongst emerald orbs.

She held his gaze but a moment and turned away, blinking as the drops of emotion cascaded over untouched cheeks. Rogue stilled once more as his thumbs, calloused with years of labor and torment, yet simultaneously gentle and kind, brushed the tears from her face.

Her vision was still hazy and unfocused as she stared across the room and noticed for the first time that her clothes were folded neatly over the back of an armchair. The green dress Remy had bought her for Christmas last year sparkled dully in the last vestiges of the sun's dying light. Its fading brilliance glittered like a beacon in her mind, reminding her of her life beyond this moment.

Magneto seemed to sense her sudden shift in resolve as he released her wrists to tug at her chin. "Why should you suffer so, Rogue, when what you truly want is a hair's breadth away? Especially when the opportunity will not present itself again." That husky voice, deep and rich and almost comforting, accompanied his lips as they caressed her shoulder, her neck, her jaw.

His words - a warning that this was a one time offer - rang with finality and promise - and she wavered.

Rogue's eyes darkened with intoxicated desire, the GHB oddly still strong in her blood some six hours later. She had never wanted anything as much as those soft, sweet caresses he was trailing across her body. Her stomach - and somewhere deeper - coiled with anticipation and desire, want and need surging to the forefront of her brain and slipping past her judgment like a python into a nest of eggs.

His fingers traced the bruises across her ribs, trailing upward to outline the edges of her bra as he kissed across her clavicle to the other side of her neck.

Finally, as that calloused thumb rubbed over the white lace covering her areola, his lips reached hers in a soft, yet searing kiss, and she was undone.

Hesitating only a moment, she kissed him back, her mind momentarily confusing Magneto with Remy again, and she sighed contentedly. Her sudden pliancy urged the man forward, and he snaked a hand through her hair, avoiding her head wound yet still pulling sharply at her locks.

A gasp of surprise, followed by a moan of desire, fueled his own need.

He had been honest when he'd sworn he hadn't brought her back to his apartment with ill-intent, but that didn't mean his motives hadn't changed in the last few hours while he'd watched her sleep, moaning and writhing under the influence of those drugs. Especially once he'd tested his ability to touch her without being absorbed.

His ruminations were thrust aside, however, as he listened to the young woman mewl in his arms. He smiled devilishly against her neck, his lips and teeth contorting with the reassurance that this time he might have his cake and eat it too.

Speaking of…

Rogue gasped lightly, closing her eyes as Magneto coaxed her to lay against the mattress again, his lips smirking against her neck as he trailed kisses down to the top hem of the white lace covering her breasts.

One hand stroked down her hip, rubbing and massaging gently as the other mimicked the same ministrations over her bra. She moaned again, sweet sensations building and licking over every inch of skin, warming her body despite the incessant trembling of it.

She felt the clasp of her bra come loose from behind, the metal hooks and slides shifting and levitating away from her skin under the power of his mutation.

The cool air against her now exposed breasts roused her some and she flushed anew. She tried to sit up, tried again to get her brain to wrestle her body back under control, but the headiness of the drugs, the thrill of finally being touched, and the indescribable need for more, won out when Magneto's lips closed over her nipple, his teeth and tongue nipping and licking as his hand rubbed similar patterns over her underwear.

Soon she was moaning loudly, squirming under his body as he muscled a leg between hers, rubbing her mound with his trouser covered thigh. His mouth switched sides, and his free hand pinched and rolled her moist nipple, making her gasp.

"Tell me, Rogue," he whispered against her hardened nub, nipping gently. "Do you enjoy this?"

"Mmmm…" was the only response she could utter as her head curled back against the pillow, exposing her neck.

He lifted himself and sunk his teeth into the tantalizing flesh, just enough to sting, but not enough to leave a mark. If he wasn't careful - if he left obvious signs - his machinations would be all for naught.

"I asked you a question. I require an answer," his voice was firm, perhaps a little dangerous as he continued pinching and pulling at her nipple. His lips began a descent back down her body, kissing along her navel and heading farther south.

He hooked his thumbs over the final piece of white lace, tugging it down quickly.

Before she could protest, he covered the bundle of nerves at her apex with his mouth, nibbling lightly while his tongue teased at her opening.

"Oh gawd!" Pale hands flew to the bed, twisting and pulling the silky sheets as she squirmed.

"I said, do you ENJOY this?" He removed his mouth, satisfied by her sounds of protest.

When she didn't speak immediately, he pinched her nipple harder, eliciting a yelp of pain.

Green eyes, glassy with drugged desire, stared at him in shock and a touch of fear.

The combination was intoxicating to him.

"Answer me," Magneto commanded again, harsher this time. "Do you ENJOY what I'm doing to you?"

That ball of cold fear expanded in Rogue's gut again, the sudden jolt of pain - although simultaneously erotic - allowing her brain to breathe clean, unadulterated reason back into her senses.

She looked back toward her green dress, a guiding light of reason and sanity.

"I - I don't wa…" she gasped anew as his fingers twisted her nipple a second time, his other hand snaking behind her head to force her eyes into his.

"Do not LIE to me, girl," he warned, more menacingly. "Or I WILL punish you."

His words were dark with promise, desire, and malice, making her swallow hard.

"Ah don't know…" she confessed at last.

"Explain," he asked, this time with much more gentleness, entreating instead of demanding. He leaned down to lick the tortured nub of her nipple, his saliva like an fiery balm that fueled her body's growing need for more.

"I - Oh gawd-" she cut herself off as he attacked the areola, pulling the entire pink circle into his mouth and sucking hard.

"I DO," she gasped again as he switched sides, tutting softly at her inanswer. "But I … " His hand slithered down, once again rubbing and teasing at her opening.

"I … I shouldn't… it's wro- Oh GAWD!" a shriek of surprise and pleasure tore from her reddened lips as he flicked her clit with his index finger.

"Something that feels THIS good cannot be wrong, can it?" he asked, quickly moving his mouth from one breast to the other while his fingers rubbed at the slick flesh below.

She moaned louder, hips bucking wildly as her hands grabbed for his shoulders. His mouth released her nipple with a 'pop', hand leaving her apex abruptly to grasp her arms. He held her wrists above her head, rough fingers mixing with previous bruises.

"I asked you a QUESTION," he demanded roughly, pressing his body down on her injured ribs even as his thigh continued rubbing between her legs.

"Y-yes," she panted, hips riding his thigh of their own volition while she winced from the pressure to her ribs. "Ah m-mean, no," she corrected, her brain refusing to work properly.

"I - ohhh, gawd." She was starting to see stars from the pressure building in her core and the lack of air in her lungs.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked snidely, his body stilling for a moment even as she tried to keep moving against him. Her fingers flexed and wriggled, searching for a lifeline, trying to goad him back into action.

"N-No…" she breathed, her voice lost in the pounding of her pulse in her ears.

"Do you want MORE?" His grin was reminiscent of the devil's, beckoning her to sign her name in blood on the dotted line.

Her breath caught again, eyes flicking back to the chair, but her dress - the only touchstone her muddled mind had been able to reckon with reason - was missing.

A groan of metal, hollow and harrowing, drew her attention as three snake-like bars unwrapped from the silver headboard and coiled around her wrists and ankles, trussing her up like a pornographic marionette.

Momentary panic cleared her senses again as Magneto held her chin in his hand, pressing harder into her ribs.

"I SAID, Do you want MORE?"

"No," she whimpered, closing her eyes to steel her resolve, simultaneously wishing for him to release her and praying he never would.

"Lying again, my dear," Magneto tsked, clucking his tongue. His hand found her opening again, deliberately ignoring her supposed denial.

He rubbed vigorously, two fingers stroking against her labia as his rough thumb rapidly fondled her clit. She groaned again, pleasure rippling through her body like flames licking across a dry field.

"Do. You. Want. Me. To. STOP?" He asked more forcefully, as he slowly pushed a finger into her vagina.

"Ahh!" she shrieked again, body rising up off the mattress despite the metal bands holding her down. "No - Oh gawd! D-don't stop! Please, don't stop!" she mewled, face flushed and beaded with sweat as her head tossed back and forth across the still damp pillow.

He continued, rubbing and stroking and pushing, faster and harder until she came with a scream.

"Now, did I not say there would be consequences for lying to me?"

Still riding the high of her first ever orgasm, Rogue heaved, trying to catch her breath as the room spun again.

"Wh- what?" she gasped, still writhing and contorting under the torrents of electricity pulsing from her clit and vagina.

"I warned you - if you lied to me again you would be punished. Did I not?"

"What?" she pleaded again, confused and flushed from the heat radiating through her body.

"Punishment for lying, Rogue. Did I not WARN you?" he demanded again, angrily, as he thrust his finger back inside her depths.

Rogue arched off the bed again, her hips rocking against his finger as the metal bands on her wrists and ankles shifted and tightened almost painfully. "Oh gawd… Y-yes. You did," she finally agreed, her body desperate for movement.

"Good. I need you to understand that, implicitly." He stroked her again, finger bending and pulling, reaching new, explosive areas.

"I demand compliance and honesty, Rogue. Otherwise you will be punished. Those are my terms. Do you agree to that?" His thumb found her clit again and she thought she could see fireworks bursting behind her eyelids.

"Mmm, Gawd. Yes, yes, Ah agree!" she exclaimed eagerly, hips bucking and riding his finger.

"Then you agree to your punishment?"

Her brain was foggy again, a second climax building even as he slowed his movements. She scarcely heard herself murmuring in agreement before he forced in a second finger, making her thrash wildly as she shrieked through a second, even more powerful orgasm.

Her body collapsed against the mattress, chest fluttering as it rose and fell with rapid panting breaths.

More metal creaked from the headboard and Rogue's eyes flitted open to see three silver bands contort to resemble real snakes. Their tongues and fangs glinted in the low light of the bedside lamp. ***

Enthralled with the silver serpents, she hadn't noticed Magneto's body shifting on the bed until his bare chest, legs, and groin laid along her supine form.

Rogue hissed, reality once again vying for her brain's drug-addled attention as the gravity of the situation threatened to overcome her body's need.

"Remember," Magneto chastised, a finger pressed to her open lips as she started to speak. "You DID agree to this."

The snakes, momentarily forgotten when her attention had shifted to Magneto's nude form, suddenly clamped down roughly on her nipples and clit, making her cry out in pain as her body convulsed.

"AHHH!"

Her arms and legs pulled uselessly against the binds at her wrists and ankles as the snake's short fangs drew blood. Tiny droplets of red oozed from their mouths, marring her ivory skin.

Forked, liquid-like tongues encased in cold silver mouths swirled against the sensitive nubs, creating waves of titillation amongst the agony.

With a silent command from their master, the metal bands around her ankles drew up along the bed, forcing her knees to bend as Magneto positioned himself at her opening.

Rogue panted, her nerves swirling somewhere between torment and pleasure, mouth open as she tried to form a thought - tried to reconcile what she'd so foolishly started.

"Wa- wait. Please. Ah just…"

He cut off any objections, kissing her roughly as he thrust inside her all at once, shattering the last of her barriers in a single, forceful slam.

Another shriek, muffled by his mouth on hers, ripped from the agony of the sudden intrusion. The metal snakes tightened on her clit and nipples, drawing the nubs into their mouths as the forked tongues flicked faster and more forcefully.

"This is what YOU wanted, my dear. What YOU asked for," Magneto reminded her as he removed his mouth from hers. "This is punishment, Rogue." He grunted, slamming into her over and over as pained tears leaked from her eyes in unison with a moan of satisfaction.

"It doesn't.."

Another thrust as he pulled all the way out and plunged back in forcefully.

"Always," another…

"Have to be…"

"Like this!" A grunt and groan and he was spilling his seed inside her. The snakes clamped down one last time as the southern girl screamed and joined his climax, her inner muscles spasming and clenching around his long, thick member in a third, mind-numbing orgasm.

The snakes immediately released and she was vaguely aware of Magneto's warm, wet tongue lapping up the drops of blood along her nipples.

Before she could even open her eyes, she felt herself being lifted off the bed, away from the warmth and comfort of the soft blankets and silk sheets. She whimpered at the loss, still shaking, but quieted as strong arms cradled her against a heated, muscular chest.

"I'm afraid you need another bath, Rogue," Magneto's voice hummed against her trembling body as he carried her to the bathroom, the water already thrumming against the porcelain. "Let us hope you didn't ruin my linens with your blood after all."

Rogue squeezed her eyes shut tight, the light hearted warning in his voice both thrilling and terrifying her.

Oh , what had she done?

She opened her eyes to see a pristine white marble bathroom with a double sized jacuzzi tub - large enough for at least three or four adults. There was an extra large shower tucked into the corner across from the tub, complete with a marble seat and reflective glass walls. Set into the black marble countertop - a stark contrast to the white marble floor and matching tiled walls - were two sinks with opulent gold faucets. In fact, all the hardware in the bathroom was gold, creating an image of post-modern luxury and wealth.

Steam rose from the tub, which was already half filled.

Rogue shifted in Magneto's arms, expecting him to put her down so she could bathe in private.

Imagine her surprise when, instead of setting her on her feet, he stepped into the oversized tub with her still cradled to his chest.

Her pulse hammered in her throat as he slowly lowered both of them into the tub. The hot water caressed and enveloped her skin like a bodysuit. It was uncomfortable, almost like thousands of fingernails scraping away her flesh - but the worst was the pain between her legs, where her raw, chaffed vagina protested loudly.

Magneto chuckled at her discomfort. "It will feel better in a moment," he reassured her, "just try to relax." He shifted her in his arms to sit between his bent legs, his penis trapped between her back and his abdomen. She could feel the organ pulsing lightly against her bottom, making her shift with an entirely different kind of unease.

The tub was long enough for both of them to extend their legs without touching the other side, and the reflective glass of the shower greeted them with an image of themselves. Rogue swallowed hard as she stared at herself in the glass - her cheeks were flushed bright red, eyes glassy and unfocused, and her hair falling in wild, tousled waves across her shoulders.

Behind her, Magneto's large form nearly swallowed her thin frame, his chin level with the top of her head and his shoulders broad enough to completely encompass her. She watched as he wrapped his arms around her middle, kissing the top of her shoulder and staring up at her reflection.

The heat of the water helped ease the cold stone of fear in her gut, yet she still trembled, watching him as he watched her. His lips trailed up her neck to her ear. He nipped and sucked on the lobe lightly, his eyes never straying from her mirrored gaze as her flush crept across her shoulders and large, slightly bruised, breasts.

Her pulse was increasing again, the heat of the water nearly unbearable as he reached up and lightly rolled her nipples between his fingers.

A door opened to the side of the tub and a white washcloth floated out of the linen cabinet.

The master of magnetism chuckled at her confused expression reflected in the glass. "All of my bath linens are infused with silver. It has the double benefit of being antimicrobial AND easily manipulated."

He demonstrated by floating the cloth towards the tub, dipping it in the scalding water once, and using the metal soap dispenser to pump two squirts of liquid soap onto it.

Magneto used his lips and teeth on her ear lobe again while pinching her nipples lightly, momentarily distracting her from the movement of the washcloth. As the white linen pressed between her legs, however, Rogue slammed her thighs shut, gasping.

"Now, now, my dear," Magneto tutted as if scolding a small child. "I'll not have you soiling my bed with your blood. Open up."

The trembling resumed anew as the smooth round discs on the bottom of the tub elongated, creating bands of metal that glided through the steaming water, forcing her legs up and over Magneto's knees.

She watched helplessly, arms trapped between his as he fondled her breasts, knees bent and splayed wide, her engorged clit and chaffed vagina reflected in the metallic hardware of the tub.

The washcloth moved of its own accord again, scrubbing gently at first, then more vigorously against her sex.

Her eyes dropped to her lap as she shifted again, discomfort slowly bleeding into pleasurable pain, and she gasped as the water swirled pink near her apex.

"Shh," Magneto soothed, his lips switching to the other side of her neck. "There is nothing to fear. Think of it as your past; your moniker as 'The Untouchable' being washed clean."

Tears welled in her eyes again as she bit her lip, realization finally hitting her as that seed of icy doubt filled her gut again.

She was no longer a virgin.

She had given her body to a madman, who, as she now realized, was likely as sadistic in bed as he was with his tireless desire to exterminate humanity.

"Oh gawd," she moaned, crying out in dismay and lust as the motions of the washcloth caused another wave of euphoria to wash over her. Her head dropped back on his shoulder as her eyes fell closed.

"Touch yourself," Magneto whispered in her ear, his tongue tracing the edges of the pliable cartilage.

Emerald eyes flew open in shock as she lifted her head to stare at his reflection.

"What?" she asked nervously, her voice hoarse from overuse.

"I said, 'TOUCH Yourself'."

Her chest rose rapidly as he pinched her nipples again, increasing the pressure on the bruised nubs as the washcloth below moved faster as well.

"I don't…" she began when Magento grabbed her hands roughly, splaying her fingers against her folds as the white cloth crept up to her chest.

"Like THIS, my dear," his digits guided hers, thumbs caressing her clit, fingers toying at her labia before inserting both his and her index fingers into her vagina.

She moaned again, back arching against the cage of his chest and arms, simultaneously wanting to free herself and increase the pressure.

"Have you never pleasured yourself before?" he asked sensuously, tongue licking down her neck.

Her mind was fuzzy, body buzzing with a thrum of electricity against her back, and a stinging heat between her legs and across every inch of submerged skin. She couldn't form the words to answer.

She gave a slight twist of her head instead.

"Say it," he demanded, sucking lightly on her other earlobe while he forced the fingers of her right hand to increase pressure.

"N-no," she gasped, his left hand pulling her corresponding arm behind her back to gently grasp his penis. He dragged her fingers to the base of his shaft, her smooth, lithe fingers curling around the pulsing organ, relishing in her gasp of surprise.

"A prude, hmm?" he teased softly, nipping her neck as he steadily increased the pressure on both hands.

"I - I, oh gawd," she mewled, arching into their combined touch and accidentally tightening her grip on his member.

In response he gasped as well and forced another pair of mirrored digits into her vagina, stretching her painfully. Her thumb - guided by his - pressed circles into the oversensitized bundle of nerves.

"Ohh," she groaned, pressing harder against his back and tightening her grip on his shaft again. He guided both her hands faster and faster, the fingers in her vagina squelching within a vacuum of desire and pain. Her entire body was shaking with such violent tremors she could barely maintain a rhythm even with his guidance. Every muscle from her toes to her jaw was tight and coiled with desperate need.

"Come for me," he commanded. He forced the pressure on her thumb to increase on the clit as the nearly forgotten washcloth swirled across her nipples.

Moments later her entire body spasmed in an intense orgasm, legs jerking, head thrown back, hand pulling so roughly on his throbbing erection that he followed her over the edge immediately thereafter.

Both were left panting, gasping for breath in the intense humidity created by the hot water and their own activity. Gradually, Magneto removed his fingers - and Rogue's - from their bodies. He picked up the washcloth, which had dropped into the water, and squirted a new round of cleanser onto the soft white linen.

With incredible gentleness, he drew the soapy cloth across her chest sensually but not sexually, pulling it down one arm and up the same leg before repeating the action on the other side. She was as yielding as the quickly cooling water surrounding them, and he bent her forward slightly, slowly washing the curve of her spine and the taut, trim muscles of her back and shoulders.

She moaned again, head full of chestnut curls drooping on a boneless neck. He chuckled, kissing her shoulder affectionately as he finished washing her body. He took great care to cleanse her breasts and between her legs without the undertones of desire and sensuousness. Neither was he cold and cavalier in his ministrations, however, making sure to kiss her neck and back as he quickly completed the task.

Once they were both clean, Magneto summoned an attached spray nozzle and turned the water back on. He made sure the temperature was not quite as hot as before, knowing how uncomfortable she had been upon entering the tub.

Washing her hair for the second time that night, he smiled at how she murmured contentedly and reclined against his back and shoulder. Only time would tell if she would be quite so complacent once she had fully regained her sensibilities and the drugs wore off.

He massaged the shampoo into her wavy locks, recalling how he'd brought her back to his apartment nearly six hours ago. She'd been covered in blood and tissue from the men he'd slaughtered, completely inebriated and unconscious. He'd immediately, and cautiously, removed her ruined dress with gloved hands, then draped her body - clad only in matching white lace bra and panties - across his kitchen island, holding her head in the sink as he manipulated the faucet's hose with his powers of magnetism.

During those first initial moments, he'd not considered any sort of sexual forays with her. He'd appreciated her lithe, muscular body, and the way she'd filled out her C-cup bra, of course. But, his mind hadn't quite concluded on intimacy until she'd looked at him with such wanton lust in her eyes. Regardless of her drugged state, it had given him certain…ideas… that he was inclined to enact.

The girl in question stirred in his arms, pulling him from his ruminations as he rinsed her hair with the tub attachment. Turning off the water and releasing the plug with his powers, he grasped Rogue's jaw and turned her head toward him, kissing her swollen lips tenderly.

She melted further against him and trembled anew as he lifted her into his arms, stepping out of the tub in the same fashion they'd entered it.

Matching white towels floated from the closet and Magneto placed the girl on her feet, his arms around her waist as she tottered unsteadily.

Rogue blushed deeply, keeping her head tucked under the older man's chin to avoid his gaze. She tried to suppress a shudder as he wrapped the towel around her body with his hands while his own towel secured itself around his waist. Her legs wobbled as if made of gelatin and she knew if he released her she would crumble to the floor like a pile of goo.

At least her head felt slightly less heavy. Less clouded by lust and need. The euphoric weightlessness was fading quickly, replaced by exhaustion and a touch of nausea. Rogue's red cheeks turned pale, almost green in fact, as Magneto suddenly swept her up in his arms again and carried her from the bathroom back into the expansive studio apartment.

With one pale, bruised arm around his neck, Rogue looked around the apartment warily. A large gray sectional sofa sat before a massive television screen. Next to the screen was a cherrywood desk with a computer and a few piles of paper. There was a coffee table between the t.v. and the sofa, and she saw her small black purse with all its contents spilled out on the polished wooden surface.

Her phone sat beside the purse, silently beckoning to her with a blinking green light to indicate she had unread messages. Her stomach clenched. Would it be from Remy? Perhaps another heartfelt apology for their ruined lunch date and the way he'd stormed off.

Or would it be from Kitty, wondering if she was okay? She snorted softly. Perhaps it would be from Scott, reminding her of her responsibilities to the team and the Danger Room sessions she would be missing without proper prior notice.

"What, pray tell, is so amusing?" Magneto asked, his tone dark, yet entertained.

Rogue cleared her throat, clutching the towel to her chest as he deposited her back on the bed. "I -" another cough as her dry throat protested. "Ah was just thinkin' how Ah might answer my friends about where I am right now." She blushed again, casting her eyes at the lush gray carpet under her toes. "Doubt any of 'em would believe THIS."

She reached for the half empty water bottle on the nightstand, but Magneto snatched it first. She expected him to hand it to her, but instead he walked to the kitchen and dumped it down the sink.

"I shall get you a cold one instead."

Rogue gave him a look of suspicion and incredulity. "Did y'all really just waste that water 'cause it ain't COLD? Don't ya have an ice maker in that fancy lookin' fridge a' yours?"

He chuckled lightly at her sassy Southern drawl as he returned with a fresh water bottle, cracking the top open and passing it to her. Her hand shook lightly as she drew it to her lips and immediately drained nearly the entire thing.

"How are you feeling?" Magneto smiled knowingly. He looked ALMOST apologetic.

"I, uhm," she cleared her throat again, taking another small sip as her pulse fluttered wildly. "Ah don't know. Confused, Ah guess."

"And SORE, I'd imagine?" the older man replied.

Another wash of crimson upon skin nearly as white as his marble floors. She nodded shyly and shifted, wincing.

Watching him from the corner of her eye, she saw him bend to open the drawer of the nightstand and twist off the lid of a prescription bottle. He held out a large white pill, but she did not take it.

"Uh, no offense or anything, but Ah think 'takin' prescription drugs from your enemy' is pretty high on the X-Men's list of what NOT t' do." She tried to make her voice light, but swallowed nervously as he watched her with a raised eyebrow.

"And where does SLEEPING with one fall?" he quipped. His tone matched hers in amusement, but the edges of his words were tight with irritation.

Rogue paled considerably, a hint of gray-green returning to her expression. Magneto moved the emptied wastebasket closer, but she did not reach for it.

After a moment, her chin quivered and she made a noise that was indiscernible between crying and laughing.

"Not sure," she finally murmured, "guess Ah'll have t' ask Kitty." A muted chortle followed her statement and she found herself laughing rather ridiculously at her own joke.

Even Magneto chuckled lightly at her sudden shift in mood.

"In that case I suppose I should have a chat with Mr. Alvers about consorting with the enemy."

Rogue snickered loudly and readjusted the towel across her chest. "Hypocrite."

"I'm the boss. Call it a perk."

At this, the young woman giggled almost hysterically for a moment, then slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. "Oh gawd. Sorry, Ah think I might still be a little loopy."

Magneto sat next to her on the bed, reaching for her hand and kissing the back of it gently.

It reminded her of Remy, and her stomach jolted again.

"I'm afraid I must apologize as well my dear. I believe I took advantage of your inebriation and striking beauty."

"I -" she cut herself off as her pulse hammered in her skull like a jackhammer. She couldn't really argue with that. Swallowing hard, she tried to make her brain focus on what had happened. Things had spiraled so quickly, and she felt like she was trying to wade through a murky tide of memories that were years old instead of hours.

"Do you have any regular old Ibuprofen? Mah head's killin' me." She sidestepped the issue. Thinking about it made the pounding worse.

"This would be better," he offered the pill again. "It's prescription strength and will be much gentler on your stomach."

She sighed. "Oh well, ah guess. In for a penny, in for a pound, right?" She begrudgingly took the pill and threw it back with some water, finishing the rest of the bottle.

Magneto grinned and took the empty bottle from her, depositing it in the recycle bin before he walked back to the wardrobe from where he'd retrieved the comforter earlier. He returned to her with a crisp white sheet, draping it around her shoulders before beckoning her to stand.

Rogue's brows furrowed in confusion and a bit of concern as he wrapped the sheet completely around her three times before tying it across her shoulder. She could still move her arms and hands beneath the white linen, but only just.

"What uh, what's this all about?" she managed to ask even though she was starting to see black spots dance in her vision - the makings of a serious migraine.

Magneto chuckled, lifting her back onto the bed carefully before covering her up with the soft blue blanket. "Well, you did a great deal of thrashing about while you slept earlier, and I cannot protect myself from your skin while we sleep. I'm afraid this will have to suffice for the night until I can find a better solution."

The X-Man balked, the color draining from her face once more as she struggled to sit up. Her abdominal muscles (amongst others) protested loudly, however, and she flopped back down against the mattress.

"I - Ah thought you said Ah could LEAVE. That this was just a one time thing…" Her pulse and breathing increased rapidly as the trembling began anew.

"I did. And you may. But not tonight."

"But I -" she started to protest again, tried to free her hands from the confines of the tightly wrapped sheet.

"Rogue," Magneto sighed, sitting next to her on the edge of the bed. He put his hand on her waist to halt her struggling. "It is nearing midnight. Keeping my shield up against your deliciously dangerous skin takes more strength and effort than I'd care to admit. Not to mention that of our rather taxing, yet enjoyable, sexual exploits."

She blushed again and he sighed.

"In short, my dear, you have EXHAUSTED me. I do not have the strength to safely return you to a hotel, nor can I simply let you leave and discover the whereabouts of my domicile. I rather LIKE this place and do not wish to vacate it when you and your X-Men try to apprehend me for the deaths of that scum."

"Ah wouldn't -" she tried to protest, finally scooting up to recline on the pillows.

Magneto held up his hand to stop her protests. "Aside from which," he continued, "You don't have a STITCH of clothing to wear. I'm afraid your previous garments are beyond remedy, and I doubt you'd enjoy flying over New York in a sheet."

Rogue swallowed as she felt the heat return to her cheeks. She'd LIKED that dress, damn it. And she knew full well he hadn't tossed the garment because it was supposedly 'ruined'.

"I will send for some clothes for you tomorrow morning, and then - when we are both fed and properly clothed - I will take you to your hotel whenever you wish."

Biting her lip, Rogue finally acquiesced, nodding slowly. Her head hurt so badly she could hardly see straight anyhow. Somehow or another, she figured she was probably better off here with Magneto than sitting naked in a dingy hotel. Aside from which, she had no doubt there was not a nicer, softer bed in all of New York.

A sudden yawn caught her off guard, and she turned her head into the pillow to stifle it, unable to lift her arms.

Magneto chuckled and stood from the bed, dropping his white towel and smiling wickedly as Rogue's eyes widened in awe and trepidation.

"Magneto, Ah, Ah CAN'T," she begged, anxiety replacing the contentment of a moment ago.

He held up his hand again, stopping her quickly forming tears. "My dear," he tutted, "did I not just say you have worn me out? Please do not misunderstand." He reached under the bed to pull out a drawer, withdrawing a pair of blue plaid pajamas bottoms and a gray, long sleeve shirt. He quickly put them on, then moved around to the other side of the bed to climb in next to her.

With gentle hands, he drew her back against his chest, his body spooned softly around hers.

"And please," he kissed her covered shoulder, "call me Erik."

Rogue sighed, relieved, and closed her eyes, ready to succumb to sleep…

Until she felt something hard and metallic wrap loosely around her ankle.

With a gasp, she tried to sit up, but was hindered by the blankets and Erik's arm around her covered waist. Before she could yell out, he petted her stomach, kissing the back of her hair.

"Shh, shh," he murmured. "Just a precaution. You ARE an X-Man, after all, and - as I've mentioned - I DO rather favor this location." He smiled against her hair, softly nuzzling her neck and pulling her even closer.

Rogue half wondered if she could loosen a hand and absorb him before he could put his shields up.

"Please don't try anything foolish, my dear," he said as if reading her mind. "I don't want to have to punish you again."

At his warning - and the reminder of the deliciously agonizing pain he'd caused - her stomach coiled in fear rather than desire.

She wouldn't try anything YET, Rogue reasoned with herself. She'd feign sleep until he drifted off, then figure out what to do from there.

She was fast asleep in less time than it took her to finish her thought.

~X~X~X~

Sunlight filtered through cracks in the deep red curtains that hung near the silver four poster bed. Delicate metal latticework created an artistic head and footboard that had gone relatively unnoticed the night before. A slight lump wrapped in a white sheet huddled under a luxurious blue blanket. One pale leg peeked out from the bottom of the blankets while a halo of chestnut curls lay splayed across the silken white pillowcase.

The other side of the bed was empty, having been carefully made up around the sleeping woman.

The delectable aroma of french toast, and bacon slowly roused the slumbering X-Man and despite the pleasantness of the smell, she groaned as she clawed her way to consciousness.

Her whole body ached, but the space between her legs was positively RAW. The thought made her heart race with excitement and trepidation, but a warm, deep voice interrupted her reflections.

"Good morning, my dear. I trust you slept well?"

Bleary green eyes fluttered open to stare at the silver haired, muscular man who was currently flipping bacon, tending to eggs, and dipping french toast in quick succession. He was holding a bright red silicone spatula in one hand and a pair of silicone tipped tongs in the other. A deep red apron protected his black slacks and blue-grey button down shirt.

The southerner blinked again and carefully unraveled herself from the blankets, which had been untied at some point. So, too, was the silver chain at her ankle missing, and she sighed in relief.

Magneto - ERIK - she reminded herself, cleared his throat and feigned irritation when she didn't answer his question.

"Sorry, yes. Ah did. Thanks," she muttered quickly, keeping the sheet wrapped around her body as she stood up.

"Ohh," she moaned again, her eyes closing briefly against the pain in her abdominal muscles. She didn't even know what the other muscles WERE, but she knew they were horribly sore. No amount of kegals and crunches in the world could replicate that distinct burning of pelvic muscles caused by multiple, intense, orgasms.

"Would you like some ibuprofen?" he teased lightly as he stirred the scrambled eggs.

"In a minute," she answered through her teeth, trying to take baby steps.

"Do you need something?" His amusement was growing as he watched her struggle.

"Bathroom."

"Ah, I see," he commented again, barely keeping the laughter from his voice. "Do you need help getting there?" She had barely moved two feet.

"Mmm," she deliberated, still waddling to the facilities, but somehow managing to increase her pace. "No, thank you," she said at last. "Sides, if you pick me up right now Ah might pee on ya."

This time he laughed loudly.

"I left you a special skin cream on the back of the toilet. Do use some - it will help tremendously with the chafing. And there are clean clothes for you on the sink - although I'd be more than happy to see you walk around with just that sheet - or without it."

Rogue was thankful her back was to him so he couldn't see the bright crimson that rose in her cheeks. The hungry overtones in his voice nearly made her pause, but she simply scuttled to the bathroom at a faster waddle.

Rogue had already relieved herself, opting to use the cream against her better judgment ('in for a penny' indeed). The second the light blue goop hit her raw flesh, however, she sighed in relief. It had soothed and cooled her oversensitized skin so quickly it was almost like magic. She put a dab on her nipples as well, marveling at how the tiny pinpricks of red scabs and the rawness of her skin began fading almost immediately. A knock on the black metal door startled her, and she dropped the tube of cream into the sink.

"Rogue?" Erik asked without entering. "Are you nearly done? Breakfast is ready." He paused, giving her a moment to respond.

"Uh, yeah, nearly." She snatched the burgundy-black dress off the bathroom counter and quickly tugged it on. The padded bodice was scalloped with long, off the shoulder sleeves. The entire thing was skintight all the way to the thigh, where a long slit ran up the left leg and the rest fell in elegant waves to her ankle. It definitely wasn't a 'casual' dress (or cheap), and she sighed, marveling at just how deep she'd gotten.

"Does the dress fit? I do I hope I matched the size correctly," he asked, his voice muffled from the other side of the door.

"Uh huh. Like a glove." She looked around, opening the linen closet hopefully. "Speakin' of, there seems t' be some PIECES o' mine missin'."

"Oh? Like what?" the feigned innocence in his voice made her roll her eyes.

She opened the door, arms crossed over her chest as she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Like UNDERWEAR for one."

Erik smiled deviously, and she struggled to keep the annoyance on her face.

"In the wash." He chuckled, blue eyes dancing.

Her hands flew to her hips, lips pinched in anger.

"Well they damn well better not get 'ruined' along with mah favorite dress!"

Blue eyes narrowed disdainfully. "Language, Rogue."

She chortled, her stomach muscles contracting painfully. "Y'all serious? LANGUAGE?"

"Yes, please. Foul language is for the uncivilized or uneducated."

Rogue rolled her eyes. "You sound like the Professor."

"Hmm," Erik's amusement faded as he led her to the kitchen island with a hand on the small of her back. "Well, I suppose I can concede that he may be right from time to time." He pulled the bar stool out for her, grinning salaciously when she sat down and winced.

"Did you use the cream?"

He went around the other side, plating up the quickly cooling food and handing her a dish and fork.

"Yep," she snatched her bacon eagerly and took a bite. "Works like a miracle."

"It should. Cost me $5,000."

She choked, throat spasming around the food she'd just swallowed and coughed violently while Erik poured her a cup of orange juice.

"WHAT?!" she finally managed after a few moments of coughing. "Why the He - HECK - does it cost so much!?"

The master of magnetism shrugged and ate a forkful of eggs, chewing and swallowing politely before speaking. "Only one mutant in the world can make it. And, as you've pointed out, it works like a miracle on any open or raw wound. It won't help the bruises or internal injuries - just the ones that have direct access to the upper epidermis, below the surface layer."

Rogue's face had gone white. "Oh mah lord, Ah used so much of it…"

In reality, it had only been a few pea sized amounts, but a single drop cost more than a month's worth of her 'stipends' at Xavier's.

"Where?"

Rogue blushed as she picked at her eggs. "You know… down THERE."

Erik raised an eyebrow at her. "You mean your labia? Or the vagina? Or perhaps your clitoris?"

Pink dusted cheeks turned crimson, making Magneto laugh grandly.

"Then you really ARE a prude, hmm?" he asked.

"Ah AIN'T!" Rogue railed at him. "There's just some things a proper lady shouldn't say out loud."

"I very much doubt a 'proper southern lady' would be drowning her french toast in syrup before even trying it," he quipped as he watched her pour the viscous liquid over her meal. "Nor would she partake in our 'activities' last night."

At that she gasped, ducking her head shamefully and putting down the syrup.

Erik put down his own fork, having already finished his eggs. He came around to the barstool where Rogue sat and lifted her chin up to look at him.

"There is no SHAME in enjoying your body, Rogue," Magneto growled lightly. "You and I are consenting adults, are we not?"

She tried to pull her face from his grasp, but his fingers tightened along her jaw.

"Are we NOT?" he asked again with more vigor.

"Y-yes," she responded at last, unease and embarrassment flashing in her eyes. She licked her lips as her body remembered that same hungry look in his eyes from last night.

They ate the rest of the meal in silence with Rogue shifting uncomfortably every few minutes.

Magneto tried to make small talk with her as they cleaned up breakfast. She managed to get a few words out, insisting that she would wash the dishes since he'd prepared the meal.

She wore dish gloves to protect the sleeves of her long, elegant dress, and Erik had transferred his cooking apron to her as well.

He stood next to her, silently drying the dishes as she washed. When she tried to scrub a particularly stubborn pan with the abrasive side of a sponge, he grabbed her wrists from behind.

"Not like that, Rogue," he chastised, "unless you wish to buy me a new pan."

She snorted, but did not try to move away from his hands. "Not likely. This probably costs more'n mah purse."

"A few hundred, yes."

An eye roll. "Mah case in point."

He manipulated her hands, much as he had done the night before and flipped the sponge to the soft side, adding soap and rubbing gentle circles into the black carbon steel.

As he did so he accidentally prodded her bottom with his growing erection and Rogue felt a familiar heat rising again. She shifted uncomfortably, about to say something, when he walked away to the bathroom without another word.

She sighed in relief, grateful that she didn't have to confront that confusing mix of emotions. She couldn't tell if his attentions and innuendos made her uneasy because of the strangeness of the situation, her own uncertainty, or because her

When he returned a few minutes later, she was finished washing and was putting away a few of the glasses. She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach the cupboard, and as she reached up to put a tumbler away, she nearly dropped it as Erik came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

The master of magnetism caught the glass and quickly stored it with one hand while the other snaked up the slit in her dress.

"Er-Erik," she breathed, shaking lightly. She tried to turn in his arms, but he put a hand on her shoulder.

"I won't have you squirming and wincing all day, Rogue. Now hold still."

He bent her over the counter almost roughly and hiked her skirt up past her hips, kicking her feet apart with his.

She was panting wildly now, feeling something between panic and desire, as the hand on her shoulder kept her from standing up.

"Er-" she started to protest again when she felt his cream-covered finger rub along her labia and slowly, gently push into her vagina.

"Oh!" As soon as the blue goo coated her insides she sighed in relief. The painfully grated flesh was immediately soothed even against the unexpected intrusion of a long, thick finger.

"I told you to use the cream, Rogue," Magneto said darkly, pressing his finger in a little further and swirling it around deliberately. "And what did you agree to last night, hmm?"

She balked, unable to form a thought as he invaded her body.

"Ah can't - "

"Honesty and compliance, my dear. Honesty and compliance." He swirled his finger once more before hooking it in a 'come hither' motion.

"Tell me, Rogue, does that feel better?" he asked, stroking her languidly.

"Yessss," She hissed, voice barely above a whisper, forehead dropping to the cool black granite countertop as she tried not to squirm.

He kicked her legs farther apart, inserting another finger, and she unintentionally bucked against his hand.

"And now?" His voice was heavy with lust and need, a dangerous glint sharpening his words so acutely she thought it might actually cut her.

"Oh …sh-shit…. y-yes."

A hard slap on her ass had her jerking forward, hips slamming painfully against the dark wood and granite. The sound was so loud it echoed in the room, bouncing around in her ears like an executioner's drum.

"OW! Fuck!" she screeched, humiliated and enraged. The second she uttered another curse, however, Magneto's fingers pulled out of her vagina abruptly. His hand came down on her other cheek in a hard spank that was even more painful than the first.

"AAAHH!" She tried to stand up, tried to push him off, but he was laying against her back, his full weight pushing her into the counter so hard she could barely breathe with her inflamed ribs.

"I told you to WATCH. YOUR. LANGUAGE." The danger in his voice became cold and sharp, cutting deeply indeed, and Rogue fought back tears.

God help her, but as much as she hated him, hated what he was doing to her, she RELISHED it, too. Drank it up like an alcoholic with his last drink, or a prisoner deprived too long of water. The pain - his PUNISHMENT - shouldn't turn her on as much as it did, but she couldn't stop her body from responding.

She would never ASK for something like this - would do much to avoid it, in point of fact - but the sensations it caused twisted and curled in her belly. It slid sensuously from her stinging ass up to her apex, setting everything in its wake aflame until she was wet with need.

"What do you have to say for yourself, my dear?"

My dear.

Mon chere.

Same words. Two languages. So similar, yet so different. Just like the men who spoke them to her. One in dark, harsh tones that made her legs and loins quiver. The other in warm, melodic timbres that made her heart squeeze and flutter to the point of bursting. One who demanded obedience and submission, the other who demanded consideration and affection.

Tears fell from Rogue's eyes onto the dark counter, disappearing into the black granite as if they never existed, leaving her soul feeling empty.

"Ah'm sorry," she whispered, chin quivering. The words were for one man. The sentiment for the other.

The tears she kept for herself.

"That's a good girl." His voice was consoling, yet demeaning, and it made her whimper. She hated being praised like a child, or a dog - it made her want to punch him so hard he'd fly through the window. Even still, it also made her limbs turn to jelly as warmth and wetness pooled and dripped between her legs.

The pressure on her pelvis and ribs lessoned as lips found her bare shoulder where the material fell below her shoulder blades. She heard his zipper descend, felt his pants pool between her feet, and she fought against simultaneous, juxtaposing reactions. She tried to push off the counter with her hands, wanting to move away somehow, but her plump, pert bottom seemed to act of its own accord, thrusting out against his erection eagerly.

Twin towel racks in shimmering gold pulled away from the cabinet, securing Rogue's wrists in matching bracelets. Her hands were forced against the backside of her hips, pushing her down against the countertop once more, albeit with slightly more gentleness.

Magneto rubbed the tip of his penis against her glistening vagina, hissing at the wet heat he found awaiting him.

"You're ready, aren't you my dear?" he asked, rubbing and stroking teasingly.

"Yes." A resigned affirmation, wrapped in lust and grief.

"Do you want me, Rogue? Do you want me to fuck you now?" Magneto bent over her again, nipping down her spine.

She hesitated. Almost said no. But she remembered the rough, painful treatment of the night before when she'd lied to him, and reconsidered.

"Y-yes," she wavered, sounding almost as unsure as she felt.

But then his thumb found her clit and she was jerking reflexively into his hand, mewlingas eagerly as a kitten for a meal.

"Do you want me to fuck you NOW, my dear?" he asked, rubbing and pinching and pulling faster and harder against her clit until she was practically convulsing against him.

"Yes! Oh gawd, yes!"

Magneto guided the tip of his penis just inside her opening, letting her adjust for a moment before he pushed in, slowly and deliberately, teasing her even as he continued his fast pace against her clitoris.

Rogue groaned against the cold granite as he fully sheathed himself, then pulled out, repeating the process over and over as he built up speed. Within a few moments he was thrusting into her with almost as much speed and force as the previous night, but with none of the harsh, painful treatment.

The slapping of wet flesh echoed around the room, filling the quiet space with the perverted orchestra of sex. Their groans were the choir, rising and falling in time with their thrusts.

Soon Rogue was crying out in a powerful climax, and after a few more minutes of furious pumping, Magneto followed.

As soon as he had recovered, the gold bracelets around Rogue's wrists resumed their shape and returned to the cabinets as towel racks.

Before she could fully sit up, however, the older man dragged the burgundy-black dress up over her head, lifting her arms to remove it completely.

Rogue was left to stand nude in the kitchen as he turned his back and walked away from her.

"Go take a shower. Then I shall take you to your hotel," Erik commanded, hardly glancing back as she wrapped her arms around her buxom breasts and shivered.

"I have business to attend to. The Friends of Humanity have plans to strike in the Bronx tonight. I just hope my cover hasn't been blown after last night's 'rescue'. They are likely to be much more wary of my presence in the bars from here on out since the bartender saw me leave right after your attackers." He sighed and pulling a pair of black jeans and a long, deep purple button up blouse from his wardrobe.

"'s a shame I don't have someone like you in my employ to work as a decoy. I'm certain I could obtain much better intel and save many more lives." Another drawer contained a lacy black bra and matching panties, as well as a black fishnet bodysuit. He held the lot of it in his arms, waiting for her to come out from behind the kitchen island and take the items.

Timidly, Rogue came and took the bundle of clothes Erik offered, and for a moment stood, thinking.

Magneto turned his back on her, unable to keep a dastardly smile off his face.

He had baited the trap perfectly, manipulating her sensibilities of justice and heroism while giving her body just enough satisfaction to continue being a willing (albeit hesitant) participant in his game.

Whether she realized it or not, she was ensnared.

And he had no plans of letting her go.

~X~X~X~X~X~