****WARNING - Over 18s Only****
Summary: Sometime after X-Men 97, Gambit is back from death and by Rogue's side. Despite the Cajun's insistence that she has nothing to be sorry for, Rogue cannot shake her feelings of guilt. Written by commission.
Short story featuring Rogue and Gambit. Features BDSM, CNC, consensual sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, masturbation, cum play, spanking, punishment.
Long-fallen leaves crumpled under her boot as she breathed the deepest sigh her super-powered but exhausted body would allow her, and paused to rest against an ancient, oak tree, a short way into the forest she walked through.
The ordeal was over, Rogue allowed herself to accept. It was over, and he was back. The Cajun thief whose card-throwing skills and mastery of biokinetic energy had led him to a hero’s death in the fall of Genosha, after so-long and against such odds, was returned. Though their skin remained separated by the cruel necessity of unwanted materials, the intensity of their first embrace transcended the merely physical, as though their souls themselves entwined in celestial ecstasy. As much as he had suffered, so too had she, as she fought her unrelenting fight first for revenge, then justice and, finally, hope. Now, hope was fulfilled, and he was returned. Mutantkind had recovered the hero named Gambit, and she had recovered her love, a man named Remy LeBeau.
Her love for her man, her Remy, burned with the ferocity of a thousand suns and the merest look from his beautiful, dark and red eyes was enough to show her the depth of his reciprocation. But though she had battled to bring him back to her side, so much within her refused to forgive herself for what had gone before. The knowledge that her beautiful love, who could have any woman or man he wished, but who chose to give his all to the one person he couldn’t touch, had gone to his death believing she did not love him back. The yearning she felt for physical connection had made the offer of Magneto too much to resist, if only for a moment, but it was a moment Remy never knew had ended, before he sacrificed himself to save thousands.
Now he was back, here, their love finally open and official for their friends to celebrate with them but the pain of what she had done gnawed at her incessantly, despite his reassurances that there was nothing to forgive, that he understood her need for touch, that he would have waited an infinity to be there for her, however she needed him to be, his love eternal and undiminished. In return, she had begged him to show anger, to release the pain her rejection of him had caused; to let it all out so they could purge it together and be free. And each time she had begged, he had refused, declaring he had no right to show anger, and no desire to show anything but love, despite whatever pain he had felt.
Just minutes earlier, she had pleaded again, but to no avail, and so, into the black Westchester night, she had stormed in frustration, determined to shout her anger at herself and at Gambit’s stoic martyrdom. Once her body was emptied of rage, she thought to herself, she would return and slip into the bed they now shared since his resurrection. She would, she began to plot to herself, gently wake him with a gloved hand stroking his chiselled, warm face, before moving it further down his body, fixing her eyes on his as she wrapped it around the perfect cock she imagined already stiffening beneath her touch.
Surrendering to her outdoor daydream, Rogue felt the same hand she planned to employ, reach downwards, brushing and pressing against her uniform-clad crotch, the unmistakeable sensation of her pussy dampening in anticipation thrilling her as so often it did. She began to press harder, but then…
Something wasn’t right. The softest of cushioned steps sounded from behind her. Perhaps, had she not been so engrossed in self-pleasure, she might have heard them before it was too late, but before she could even move her hand away from her pussy, the sensation of cold metal surrounded her neck, followed by the click of a clasp, locking into place.
Rogue gasped, half in shock, half in delight, as the owner of her collar stepped out from behind her, into view. Remy LeBeau. Gambit. But Gambit as she had never seen him before.
Although she had felt the touch of such restraints before and knew their power-dampening properties, she gave a perfunctory struggle, both to confirm she was, for now, powerless, and to indulge what the darkest part of her hoped was about to happen.
“What the hell d’ya think you’re playing at, Swamp Rat?”
Gambit’s stare was austere, strict and, Rogue thought, a little dangerous. Beneath his trench coat, the usual pinks and blues were gone, replaced by pitch black, which only added to the uncertainty of what was happening.
“I figured you weren’t gonna let ‘dis one go, chère.” His voice, though as intoxicating as ever, was bereft of the lightness she was accustomed to hearing in it, instead, each word was imbibed with an air of authority, of a type Remy LeBeau would typically scorn. “You know how much you’ve pressed at ‘dis, you know how hard you’ve tried to get me to let go, completely of every restraint I ever placed on myself, of every rule I ever made.”
Rogue could only nod. She knew only too well. From their fateful first kiss so long ago, they had known everything about each other, the good, the bad and the dark. And it was that side of himself she had begged him to explore in order to make her atone for the pain she caused, to pay the proper penance. Until now, he had always refused.
“You spent so damn long chipping away at ‘dis,” Gambit continued, his eyes never leaving hers. “So damn long trying to make me break, ‘den comin’ out her and playin’ wit’ ‘dat sweet pussy of yours when I wouldn’t crumble. You think Gambit a fool, chère?”
“Wh… what? No, Remy, ah don’t...”
The words wouldn’t come, whether through shock at the language her love used or the thought that his use of them meant she had finally broken through his armour, and he was about to truly let go.
Rogue shook her head. Remy LeBeau was many things, some of which the nervousness inside her told her she was about to find out, but a fool he was not.
“I already told you chère, there ain’t nothin’ to forgive. But you still want the goddamn punishment, oui?”
She nodded, eagerly, taking herself by surprise at how badly she wanted it.
“Damn it Cajun, I need to be punished,” she exclaimed in earnest, “I deserve it!”
For the first time, a hint of his typical smile appeared at the corner of Gambit’s mouth, though etched with just a hint of cruelty.
“’Den come a little closer and stand in front of me, petit.”
Rogue hesitantly began to move, then more quickly as he ordered again, his voice harsh and domineering, displeased with even momentary delay. Her arrival before him was greeted with a thumb and forefinger under her chin, forcing her head up to look up, her eyes staring into his, wide in uncertainty.
With his other hand, Remy remove a long, shining pair of tailor’s scissors from his coat pocket, snipping the black handle in the air between them. Her eyes moved to the blades as he slowly, so, so slowly moved them down Rogue’s body to the hem of her uniform.
Rogue began to object but a sharp, firm tap from Remy’s hand on her cheek told her that her protestations were useless. Another small, sharp slap reinforced the message before the hand returned to its position under her chin. Rogue gulped, beginning to wonder if it was really so wise to beg for so long for the Cajun thief to unleash his darker side.
She gave no objection this time as the scissors reached the collar of her ruined uniform, which fell open to reveal her breasts, cupped in the red, lacy bra she had thought to tease him with again, and she saw for the first time how full of lust his eyes were. Lust for her. Lust which she knew damn well was about to be satisfied.
The scissors moved once more, the cold steel sending goosebumps through her as he slid them carefully, but wilfully behind the waistband of your green and yellow uniform bottoms.
“Magneto not the only one good with metal, chère, no?”
A pang of dizziness shot through Rogue’s mind at Gambit’s pointed barb, and she gulped once more as he cut down the left leg of her uniform, down to the knee, then the same on the right.
They fell away, hanging around her knees, leaving her red lace panties in full view. Panties which they both knew she had made herself cum in already that day, and which now, despite the tingle of anxiousness she had started to feel, were damp again.
Remy discarded the scissors, pulling the remnants of her uniform shirt from her shoulders and ordered her to rid herself of her shredded clothing.
She hesitated again. Another error.
The Cajun’s thumb and forefinger under her chin became an instant full clasp of her throat, pushing her backwards until Rogue felt the cold, rough bark on her exposed and vulnerable flesh. He gave his order one more time, and she scrambled to comply, standing before him again, awaiting instruction, her eyes wide.
“How much you play wit’ your pussy today, chère?” Gambit asked, his voice soft but commanding. Her voice uncharacteristically nervous, Rogue stated the number, only for his eyes to narrow in disapproval.
“’Dat’s not enough, chère,” he tutted. “No-damn-where near enough. On your knees, petit, put ‘dat hand of yours inside those panties for me.”
A wave of sudden embarrassment shot through Rogue, but Remy’s grip moved at lightening pace from her throat to the back of her head, clumping her hair and pulling it down, hard. She obeyed his command, dropping to her knees and slipping her into her panties, the intensity of the moment forcing her to comply and rub at her swollen, aching clit.
As she knelt before him, her eyes locked into his as she bucked and rubbed onto her hand, she felt him roughly pull the bra straps from her shoulders, freeing her breasts for his enjoyment, his hands greedily pulling and tugging at her hard nipples as her orgasm built inside her. Just as she began to feel the cusp of the crescendo, her lover’s hand clamped onto her arm and pulled her hand from her panties.
Rogue looked up in frustrated pleading, unable to find the words to complain.
“You don’t have my permission to cum yet, petit,” Gambit said, his face set in enjoyment. “You have to earn it.”
Rogue’s eyes widened further still as Remy pulled the coat from his shoulders and the belt from his waist, her mouth salivating as he finally pulled the aching, hard dick from his pants and commanded her to open her mouth. At once eager and scared to take it in, Rogue leaned forward, tasting the tip as Gambit pushed it over her tongue until she felt it push against the back of her throat, spit filling her mouth as his hands pulled at her hair and he thrust into her face.
She had pleaded for him to punish her like this but now, in the moment, in the open air, exposed and powerless, the rush was unlike anything Rogue could have expected. Her eyes began to water at the intrusion in her mouth and her ears filled with the sound of herself sucking and gagging on her lover’s insistent cock, as his voice commanded her to thank him for the privilege. Trying her best to mumble a few words, Rogue jolted as a sharp slap connected with her ass cheeks.
“Elocute, chère,” she heard Gambit say as she looked up to see him brandishing the cane he had begun to punish her ass with, with the firm strokes of a strict disciplinarian. “Let Gambit hear you say it like you mean it.”
She struggled to shout thanks past his hard, relentless mouth fucking, a fresh cane spank on her ass for each failed attempt. The unfairness of it began to overwhelm her before the Cajun relented from his spanking and pulled his dick from her mouth, relishing her gasps as he granted momentary respite.
Breathless, she asked if she had pleased him, and if she might be allowed to cum, expectantly making to return her hand to her panties. He pulled it away, binding her wrists together with cords pulled swiftly from a burlap bag behind him.
“’Dat pussy, chère,” he whispered as he secured her restraints, “belongs to me. Not you, not Erik, but me.”
Pulled up from the floor, Rogue felt herself pushed back against the tree as Gambit slid his own hand down the front of her panties, delighting in the wetness and sliding two fingers straight into her warm hole.
It relaxed to accept him at once, recognising its new Master as he pushed another finger inside, curling them back to find the spot they both knew would make her fold.
“Keep looking in my eyes,” he ordered, as his wrist movements quickened, her pussy responding in instant, orgasmic intensity. Rogue screamed profanities, the pleasure overtaking her senses but still Remy’s voice cut through, ordering her to keep her fucking eyes on his. Her legs turned to jelly, and her knees buckled, her body supported only by her lover’s grip on her throat and pussy.
Overcome, Rogue attempted to rest against the tree, but Remy warned you that she wasn’t finished yet. Punishment was what she had demanded, and it had only just begun. Pulling his lover away from the trunk, Gambit retrieved a thick, strong rope from the bag and hooked one end to Rogue’s helpless, bound wrists, throwing the other over the gnarled branch above her head and pulling it down until her arms stretched high above her.
Goosebumps broke out over every millimetre of the young mutant’s flesh, the intensity of the lust behind Gambit’s red eyes impossible for her body, mind or soul to deny. His fingers delicately teasing her bare arms, he pulled away the remnants of Rogue’s red, lace bra, pausing only to enjoy the wriggle she made as she tried to twist and turn in any way that might satisfy the calls of her throbbing clit. Toying with his captive still further, the Cajun ran his fingers down her exposed body to the edge of her soaked, ruined panties, inching them into place over her clit and pulling at them, allowing the friction to tease her.
As Rogue felt herself begin to surrender once more to the building ecstasy inside her, she felt a rough tug as Remy pulled her tattered and torn panties from her body and pushed the cum-soaked lace into her open mouth.
“You belong to me chère,” he said softly in her ear. “Now and forever, you belong to me.”
Swiftly, deliberately, the Cajun shed himself of his shirt. Her eyes followed him as he walked slowly around her, until the limited mobility he had granted her hid him from view.
She sensed him, at last, behind her, his fingertips brushing ever so delicately on the skin of her neck, moving down, over her armpits, tracing her ribs, taking in the curve of her hips, until his palm connected with her right ass cheek, and she gave a shout through her panties at the sting. The noise invited a second, harder spank as he stepped closer into her, his face by her ear, as he softly reminded her not to make a sound without his express permission.
Rogue nodded, helpless to do otherwise.
She felt his now naked body pressed against her own and his face nuzzling into her neck; the familiar warm sensation growing in the pussy which she knew would soon be claimed again. She supressed the moan she yearned to give as he bit down, just hard enough, on her shoulder, her neck, her ear… his left hand exploring her right breast, pinching and pulling at the stiff, still hardening nipple, while his right squeezed and spanked at her ass.
He asked, in that dreamlike Cajun accent, if she understood why this has to happen this way, and Rogue nodded before another harder slap connected with her pink, stinging ass cheek.
“Speak when your Master speaks to you,” he demanded.
She shouted the words as loud as she could, through the ruined panties filling her mouth, and he pulled them from her mouth, discarding them on the floor. Her heart raced as he stepped back in front of her and she took in the full sight of his nakedness for the first time that night.
“You broke my heart, chère,” he said, softly.
Hearing him say the words flooded Rogue’s senses with the guilt that had taunted her thoughts for so long. But though she had yearned for him to admit the pain she had caused him, to blame her for it, the vocalised admission she had screamed at him to make was almost too much to bear, and she shook her head in sudden denial.
His fingers spanked sharply against her clit.
“Say it, chère,” he demanded softly, ignoring her recoil and spanking her pussy again. “Tell Gambit out loud what you did.”
“I…,” she faltered, another spank connecting with her clit in response. “I broke your heart.”
“Louder, chère,” he ordered. “Louder for the whole damn mansion to hear.”
“I BROKE YOUR HEART!”
“You broke WHO’S heart, chère?”
“MY MASTER’S!”
“You spat in my face, petit,” Gambit recounted, slowly, the memory of the agony she had placed in his heart breaking through the shell he had crafted for the night. “You tore Gambit’s heart into pieces and spat in his face. So do it now.”
The pleasure, the discomfort, the intensity of the beautiful torture he had trapped her in was intoxicating enough but the Cajun’s latest order overwhelmed her and, like a volcano of ecstatic rage, she finally, screamed her refusal, to the forest.
Gambit’s hand spanked once more onto her pussy, remaining there as though to hammer home his ownership of her, pushing two fingers once more inside his squirming, ecstatic, overwhelmed lover.
“I said,” he began, his voice cracking under the tumult of conflicting emotion, “spit in your Master’s face.”
The Vesuvian waves of shared emotion had long been heightened by the touching of their souls, and Rogue felt all the rage, regret, hurt, joy, wonder and love burning as one inside her. She spat it out at her lover’s face, her head dizzy once more at the splendour of seeing his handsome, charming, beautiful face, adorned with her own saliva. He grinned wide and took hold of her throat once more, spitting into her open mouth, forcing his own onto it as their tongues combined and they screamed their long-repressed pain into each other’s bodies.
Refusing to unclamp his mouth from hers as she moaned in tortuous pleasure, his fingers pushed deeper inside her, as her pussy widened to accommodate three, four, five… his whole, damn, fist.
The rage Rogue shouted into him turned to orgasmic chaos as she came again, her fluids squirting past Remy’s knuckles and onto the forest floor as he squeezed her throat tighter, restricting the air to her brain and making her surrender to the insanity of her punishment.
Finally, he pulled his mouth from hers and she heaved air into her lungs. Mascara stained her cheeks and sweat had matted her brown and white hair, but she knew she would be allowed little respite. The hand that seconds ago had been inside her was now by her face, as one by one, the fingers Gambit had used to get her off were pushed into her mouth; her tastebuds relishing the flavour of her own pussy.
“You know what you still don’t understand, chère?” Gambit asked, as she sucked and nibbled at his fingers. She shook her head.
“You ain’t even been punished for what you think Gambit punishing you for.”
Rogue looked into his eyes in silent, exhausted confusion as he began to softly caress her face.
“Gambit never hated you for breaking his heart,” the Cajun gently intoned. “I resented it, sure, I hated him for taking you. But you won me heart and soul a long time back, chère. You have me. You will always have me. You might think you’re in the Gambler’s Grip right now, but I been in yours forever. Your punishment ain’t for seeing if you could work something out wit’ a guy who could touch you. It’s for thinking you had something to be sorry for, and for not believing ‘dat there ain’t nothing you could do to make Gambit stop loving you.”
Reaching up, Remy unhooked his soulmate’s arms from the branch unbinding her wrists and freeing her aching limbs from their restraints, standing before her, as naked and vulnerable as she, with only the silence of pure love between them.
“Remy, I…” Rogue began, her voice faltering as the words refused to come.
“We equals, chère,” he said, picking up her sentence. “We both gon’ do stupid things, both ‘gon make mistakes. But we both always ‘gon be here for each other forever. Ain’t nothin’ or nobody can stop ‘dat. Not even death.”
Rogue blinked back the tear she felt forming in her eye and pulled her lover to her, clasping her arms around his neck and accepting the warmth of his body against hers, not wanting the moment to end.
“Ah love you, swamp rat,” she softly said, looking into his deep, loving eyes. Spying the Cajun’s discarded trench coat on the ground she crossed over and slowly knelt down upon it, casting a lustful glance over her shoulder at the man she loved.
“Ah suppose,” she began, her customary mischievousness returned to her voice, “we should make use of what time we have before this old collar needs to come off. What d’ya say, Cajun?”
It was Gambit’s turn to be lost for words, before the opportunity presenting itself made him realise that on this occasion, actions would speak louder.
Her face down on the stretched-out coat, Rogue felt him kneeling behind her, his hot breath on her most intimate places, before the first sensation of his tongue reached her labia, gleefully lapping up the cum she had already spent, then moving to her clit, seeking to generate more. She moaned uncontrollably as Remy expertly sucked, licked, nibbled and played with the pussy she had surrendered to him, until she felt herself building to cum again.
As she shook on all fours, recovering from her latest orgasm, Remy LeBeau assured her of his eternal love for her. She reciprocated with a gasp as she felt his hands squeeze and spread her ass cheeks apart and felt the sensation of his tongue exploring each, sweet inch of it. Pushing two fingers back inside her pussy, Gambit pressed his thumb into Rogue’s tightest, most private hole and she moaned in profane delight as he complimented his anal assault by tugging her hair back, hard. Another, still louder moan accompanied the all-consuming joy of Remy’s achingly hard dick being pushed, slowly inside her pussy, as his fingers continued to explore her asshole, the combination of penetrations making her body shudder and jerk.
Satisfied with you latest pulsing climax and the loosening of her asshole, Gambit waited for the throes of her ecstasy to subside before easing his cock from its home and pressing its tip against her ass, marvelling at how readily it gave way to him.
“Oh, fuck, oh fuck…” Rogue panted her expletives as Gambit sunk his full, impressive length deep, deep inside her asshole.
“You like ‘dat, chère?” he asked her, his voice cracking with pleasure.
“Ah fuck, ah love it, sugah,” she answered in surprised and absolute honesty. “Ah love you, Remy, an’ ah love you fucking my ass.”
The pace of the assfucking increased, and Rogue knew her man was nearing his limit as he pulled out of her ass and pressed her cheeks apart, sensing him staring in adoration at her gaping hole. She grew desperate for the sight, feel and taste of his cum and scrambled forward, turning to face him on her knees as he clamped his hand tight around his dick.
“Give it to me, Remy,” she ordered as his hand moved rapidly up and down his long, thick shaft. “Give all of it to me, and nobody else. No-one else, ever.”
She knelt, mouth open wide and tongue out waiting for him to deliver as ordered, her heart bursting with love, lust and devotion. His face twisted into orgasmic contortions and a stream of thick, white cum spring from the tip of his dick, landing hot and sweet on her face and tongue, dripping down onto the power-dampening collar that had made their night possible.
As his knees buckled and the stroke of his hand grew slower, the remaining droplets of cum leaking from his slowly softening dick, Rogue gently pulled him down onto the coat with her, embracing her man and being embraced by him. Their lips met in a passionate, loving kiss, as they tasted and shared each other’s essence, becoming ever more entwined together.
These two had been through everything this world and the next could throw at them. They were joined for eternity, body, heart, soul and mind. And they each knew as they lay together, embracing on the forest floor, that whatever challenges, whatever pains the future might hold, they would face them as partners, lovers, and, one day soon, spouses. They would face them together. Gambit and Rogue.
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