Disclaimer: The X-men and their world belong to Mavel/Fox. No profit or copyright infringement is intended. This is an X-men Shared Universe, orignally imagined by Tarchannon, Dark Legends is a dark future where the next generation of the Legacy virus has triggered disturbing changes in the X-men. For further stories by a variety of authors and poets, go here.

 

Bad Dog

The brat had done something stupid. Logan could smell it on him - Jean. And he could feel it in the painful call in the back of his mind. Jean. She was calling him and already aroused and impatient. Logan hurried.

When he came in, Scott was on his knees, naked but for the tight collar. He was already bloodied, Logan caught the scent and his cock stiffened in anticipation. Jean snapped her fingers at him and Logan quickly stripped and sank down.

The carpet was rough and familiar. There were dark stains where the blood simply would not wash out despite Scott's best efforts. It was late at night and a broken windowpane let in a cold breeze, fluttering the torn curtains and making the two men shiver. Jean was caught in a breeze of her own making, fire red hair a tangled halo, bits of broken glass glittering wickedly as they drifted around her, caught in her telekinetic currents.

"Dog!" She hissed, stalking up to him, her heels sinking like knives into the thick carpet. Behind her, Scott choked as she yanked his leash then crawled after her. Logan sank lower, whining, and kissed her boot. Still, she wasn't appeased and Logan cursed the newcomer under his breath as she brought the crop down hard on his shoulders. "You've been straying on me!"

"No -" Logan choked, gagging as the dog collar around his neck snapped tight.

"Shut up!" Jean stalked around him, Logan bowed down, watching her boots from the corner of his eyes. The tip of the crop teased down his back and he shuddered. "How's that pretty thief's mouth, Dog? Hot around you cock? Did you fuck him yet? Has he fucked you?"

Logan shuddered at the anger in her voice. Lose items rattled, a comb falling off Scott's dresser. He glanced at their leader. Blood trickled from a cut on his lip and Scott's eyes were glazed, almost glassy. He looked exhausted, darks circles under his eyes. Logan could see his hard, dark cock and the steel rings that confined it. The crop snapped down, biting the thin skin of his lower back and Logan gasped.

"Pay attention to *me*, Dog!"

She went after him with the crop. Logan, formerly the X-men's most violent member, only whimpered and sank lower until his forehead was pressed to the floor. He felt the first warm trickle of blood slide down his side. It heightened his arousal, and hers. Which made her hit him harder and Logan groaned, cock aching as much as his back.

"You're hungry Dog, aren't you?" She hissed behind him. "That poacher can't give you what I can. Can he? Can he? Answer me, Dog!"

"No, no - " Logan growled. "You, Red. O - only you. I love ya. Ya know it."

"We both love you, Jean." Scott said, trying to deflect some of Jean's savage attention.

It was their only strategy. The only one they could remember, even in the depths, when Logan lost in the animal she'd created and Scott had surrendered in order to survive. They shared. The two men shared everything they could, tried to keep Jean for focussing on just one of them because her undivided attention could be fatal.

"That's right, Puppy." Jean crooned, abruptly pleased and she stalked over to Scott. She knew they were both telling the truth. Even now, they loved her. The field leader rubbed his cheek against her boot and closed his eyes as she petted his head. "You love me. Both of you. You'll do anything for me, won't you Pup?"

Scott nodded, gleaming red eyes flicking momentarily to Logan as he judged how much the man had healed. He cautiously kissed his wife's thigh. Licked her when she didn't protest, his cock twitched in the agonizing confinement of the metal rings. Caught up in the pain and pleasure of it - Jean's smooth skin under his mouth, Scott begged softly for more.

"Down, Pup." She whispered, pleased as he unhesitatingly obeyed her. Logan rested, while Scott licked his wife's boots. "Pretty Pup, much better behaved than Dog."

Jean pulled Scott over to where Logan knelt. "Clean him up!"

Scott nuzzled Logan's skin. They both shuddered. Scott responding to the familiar taste of Logan's blood and Logan wincing as his soft tongue found the freshly healed cuts. That mouth worked busily on him, licking up the still wet blood and revealing the new pink skin beneath. Jean's boot nudged Logan's chin and he licked the leather, the scent and Jean's nearness, Scott's mouth moving lower on his back, made Logan growl. He bit her ankle, leaving small tears in the leather.

"Greedy Dog." Jean whispered, trailing the end of the crop across his shoulders. Logan shuddered, nuzzled the bare skin of her thigh, aching, hoping she'd let him taste her. Maybe even fuck her. He groaned at the thought, hips hitching uncontrollably. He do anything to fuck her.

"Jeannie - " He begged.

"Sshh, Dog." She crooned, petting him. Logan rubbed his head against her hand. Her hot fingers traced his face, stroking his lips and he sucked on them eagerly. "I know what you need - you're my good Dog."

Scott nipped and nudged at Logan's back and at the telekinetic tug from Jean, he shifted to his hands and knees. Scott's tongue dipped lower, the man nuzzled his crack and Logan snarled, struggling in Jean's invisible grip. He lunged forward, snapping at her fingers, outraged and frightened.

"No - no I ain't!" He growled. "He -"

"Dog!" Jean shouted. The collar snapped tight, cutting off his air and Logan gagged and choked and shuddered as Scott's tongue teased and stroked and went *inside* him. Inside him, wet and warm and silky soft. The probing was horribly invasive and Logan moaned and shook at the pleasure of it. It felt good. It felt good and he didn't want it but it felt so, damm good.

"You want a cock, Dog?" Jean was saying as Logan struggled and responded. His cock was throbbing frantically at Scott's gentle stimulation. Scott had reached between Logan's legs and was playing with him as he tongued Logan's asshole. He rubbed against the touch and whimpered. "You want some pretty boy? Some stranger bent on breaking us up? You have everything you need right here - everything - and I'll give it to you. Feel it. Feel my Pup. I'll make him give you whatever you want."

Logan, flushed dark, half choked by the collar, glared up at her. He couldn't let Jean get her hands on the spy. She'd destroy him and Remy didn't love her. Not like he and Scott did. "Not - the new boy - don't - don't do this! I fuck him! He's m-mine! *My* toy."

"You don't get any toys but what I give you!" Jean shouted. "You don't play any games but mine! If you want that thief, bring him *here* and I'll give him to you!"

"No!" Logan shouted, vision washing red. He fought her telekinesis, snarling. Scott's hand tightened around his cock, thrust his tongue deep and Logan howled. "No! Mine! That boy's mine!"

"Yours! Yours?!" Jean yelled, another windowpane shattered, and the dresser drawers were rattling. The sheets rose from the bed like deadly, smothering ghosts. "You don't get it do you? Nothing! There's nothing but me! You don't have anything but me! Bring him here! Fetch him, Dog! *Fetch!"

Logan howled and fought her. "No - you don't get him. Mine! M-mine!"

"Dog -! Bad Dog!" Jean sputtered, so furious that she could hardly speak. They felt her rage though, both of them, like a hook in their heads, twisting. Scott wailed at the pain and pulled away from Logan, curling up on the floor. She snapped the crop across Logan's face, his lip split, he tried to jerk back, turn away but she held him motionless as she beat his face and shoulders. "Obey me! Obey me!"

Logan snarled and snapped, blood running down his face. He caught the crop in his teeth and bit the bloody end off. Jean screamed in rage and the room exploded. Logan instinctively threw himself on top of Scott, shielding him from the glass shards and broken wood whirling about them both.


 

Remy gave them a few moments to get occupied then hurried down the hall. He tried very hard not to listen to the noises from the bedroom on the second floor but someone cried out and he winced. He was grateful that his empathy remained short range. He didn't want to know what price Logan was paying for his challenging Jean.

At the basement, he leaned on the buzzer and waited for the hidden scientist to let him in. If they were all lucky, Jean and Scott would be occupied for the rest of the night. Kurt would be able to retrieve food and the supplies Dr. McCoy needed and Remy would be able to move freely in the mansion.

Remy's lip curled and he rubbed his palms across his leather pants as if wiping something away. He'd barely been able to touch her at all. The thought of her putting her hands on Logan was sickening. He didn't know the man at all, except that he was willing to risk his life and betray his friends by working with an old enemy so that thousands of lives could be saved. That he fought against the plague poisoning his mind and twisting his body every day. Fought it when most everyone else in this nightmarish place had surrendered to it and some people reveled in it.

The elevator doors opened onto the clean and sterile pewter walls. Remy hurried, boots clicking, to the lab. The doctor was waiting, pacing restlessly.

"Allo." Remy said.

"Good evening." The blue lion looked up from a gene assay printout. Remy shook his head slightly. And he'd thought his life was strange before. These people were like a cheap movie. They even had the butt-headed psychic madman upstairs. The other blue furry mutant was here to - Kurt - perched on a fucia couch, watching them both with luminous yellow eyes. Remy tried not to cough at the stink of sulfur in the air.

"Dis better be good, eh?" Remy snapped. "'Cause it's costing a lot for Remy to come here now."

Dr. McCoy's ears flicked. "I'm afraid I need more samples, my dear boy."

"Ain't your chile." Remy said automatically. "W'hat for?"

The scientist slipped gratefully into lecture mode. He even had a little visual presentation and Remy leaned on a treatment bed, watching with a scowl. He didn't know how much time he had before he was missed. "As you already know, the Legend virus crosses the blood/brain barrier and attacks nervous tissue. It is most strongly attracted to those genetic patterns known as the X-factor. Unfortunately, it's flexible enough to find a home in the non-mutant population as well."

"Oui - oui. Get on wid it, homme."

"We are immune despite the obvious presence of the X-gene. But it's not a response of our immune system, unfortunately, as I'd fist thought." The doctor hurried on. "And that's because this virus in not truly a virus. It's more like - a symbiote. It embeds itself in the hosts DNA and replicates there. It becomes *part* of the host. The better adjustment the host makes to the presence of the Legend virus - and I'm only calling it a virus for convenience, you understand - the more extreme the symptoms. I must thank our former enemy, by the way, for the information on how the virus progresses, unfortunately I have no cooperative patients here."

"And you w'ant more blood from me why?" Remy asked again. He doubted Sinister had any cooperative patients either, but morals had never stopped him before.

"No, unfortunately it's not blood I require." The doctor tried a smile, disconcerting with those fangs. "I can't simply spin down for the proper anti-bodies, that's not what I'm looking for. I need cellular material."

"De pound of flesh, eh?" Remy sighed. "D'accord. What you w'ant Remy do?"

"Out of those - rather striking - clothes, if you please." The doctor already had a cart ready. There was a six inch needle on it. "I need a bone marrow sample and a few cheek swabs."

"Dieu!"

"Please, my new friend." Dr. Hank McCoy said softly. "I'd use my own marrow but it's a tricky procedure and there's no one here to help me - except for you."


 

Logan knelt, muscles straining against the invisible grip of Jean's telekinesis. He stared up at her flushed face, snarling, eyes watering from the pain. He was blind in one eye from a mis-aimed blow and there was glass imbedded in his back from her earlier temper tantrum. Scott was kneeling at her feet, face pressed to her crotch while she stared at Logan's healing body, panting in frustration.

He watched her hands tighten on Scott's head, pressing him close, her head fell back, beautiful muscles in her thighs shaking and moaned as she came. Logan scented Jean's heat and growled, jealous of the other man. Scott writhed, making muffled desperate noises, muscles clenching hard in his welted back and ass as he fought the restraints on his cock. Jean pushed him away and Scott collapsed onto the floor, nearly weeping with misery, pain and sexual frustration. He'd worked hard to distract Jean and buy Logan some desperately needed time to heal.

"Wicked, bad Dog." Jean breathed, catching her breath and smoothing her skirt down. "Don't you know that thief's only trying to steal you from me?"

"M-mine - " Logan growled, the only word he had left. The only thought he had left. The thief was his. Jean hissed, hand clenching on the ruined riding crop.

"I won't let him take you!" She yelled, green eyes as blank as a doll's. "He can't have you. He can't have any of you!"

Logan only snarled, rocking in her grip, half mad with fury and pain. He wanted to - to attack her, throw her down and savage her. He groaned. He wanted to sink his cock into that hot, wet hole. Taste her forbidden blood. Tear off that leather and make her scream. His blood pounded in his ears, trickled down his face from his slowly healing eye. Everytime he moved, each piece of glass imbedded in his skin flared in agony. He was rock hard, cock leaking and dark with the raw depth of his need.

Jean stalked closer to her immobilized prey, her voice softening as she tried another tack. "Why do you want that skinny boy, Dog? What does he have that we can't give you? Don't you know we love you - Scott and I? He's nothing, some street brat - some whore. Pup -"

Jean brought Scott over and the other man, prompted by a mental nudge, bent and kissed the head of Logan's cock. The Canadian cried out, arching up, crying out again at the pain in his back. He felt Jean's mind in his and shook his head as if he could shake her out. He knew she mustn't have the thief, couldn't quire recall why. He fought instinctively, feeling her ruffle through his memories.

The first sight of the kid, lying in the street at Creed's feet and the scent of his blood. The feel of breaching that tight ass, the kid wailing and weeping under him. His. Snarling in the boy's ear at each thrust. That sweet mouth wrapped around his cock - Logan groaned, his cock jerking in Scott's inexperienced mouth - the taste of the kid's blood and the give of his skin under his teeth. His. That boy was his. Logan's possessive instincts were fixated on the newcomer and he raged at the thought of Jean putting her hands on him. He fought Jean, focused instead on Scott sucking him off, his rage, his lust, his love for her. "Jeannie - "

"You think that brat wants you? He's just using you." She hissed in his ear, kneeling behind him. She ran a hand down his back, driving the shards of glass imbedded under his healing skin deeper. Logan whined, shaking, cock softening slightly at the pain. Scott sucked insistently, knowing that both of them would be punished even more severely if Logan lost his erection. "You think he knows what you are? Dog. No one wants you but me - and my Pup. No one's going to want you after I'm done - you're mine, Dog. Mine."

She ran the blunt handle of the crop down his spine and Logan howled struggling madly. He knew what she was going to do. She let him know - let him anticipate, let him fight, let him know how helpless he was.

"Do you think anyone wants an animal like you? That anyone would touch you - worthless, stupid beast that you are? Begging and groveling at my feet as if you deserved anything from me!"

He felt the hard press against his asshole and flinched, clenching uselessly. Strained his arms against her telekinesis. They remained motionless at his side, claws flicking in and out to impale the blood spattered carpet. "Jeannie - please - god - *god*. No! NO! Jeanie - !"

Jean rammed the crop into him and Logan screamed. The wrenching, violent agony drowned out any other pain, any dignity, he screamed and begged as she fucked him with the riding crop. Stabbing pain, grinding deeper, tearing into him. Tearing him up inside. She shoved it hard and fast, blood slicking her glove. He screamed and screamed and rocked into Scott' s mouth, sobbed, shuddering in pain, half fainting, driven up and forward by Jean's brutality. He couldn't stand it, couldn't - howling, Logan exploded into the other man's mouth.

Scott was crying as he swallowed, choking. Logan could feel it and smell it amid the scent of his own blood and shit. Jean pulled the crop out of him and he groaned, tears of agony and shame streaming down his face. Her head fell onto his shoulder as she sobbed.

"Dog - D-dog - why? Why did you do this? All you have to do is obey me. Be m-mine. That's all Dog. Thats all. Fetch me the thief, Dog."

"No-." Logan whispered, shuddering in pain, blood running down his thighs. "No. He's - he's mine. You can't h-have him."


 

Remy froze in the kitchen, hands full of cold chicken, then sidled quickly into a shadow. That crash had come from the second floor hallway. Someone coughed in pain and the thief glided silently up the stairs, limping a little from the pain in his hip. The painkillers were already wearing off and hadn't done much to ease the pain of having someone drill a hole in his hip. He wondered what was going on. Someone had been hurt, that was clear enough. Who?

Shattered porcelain glittered faintly in the dim monolith. A broken table lay in the hallway, wilted flowers were strewn across the hardwood floor. Remy stilled at movement farther down. A dark, hunched shape was staggering down the hall, panting harshly. The thief's excellent night vision quickly picked out Logan's distinctive hair and wide shoulders. "Oh - mon Dieu."

Remy hurried down the hall and Logan spun around, claws flicking out, ice bright and razor sharp and he snarled. The thief froze. Logan braced one hand on the wall and growled at him.

"Easy, Logan." Remy said carefully, softly. He didn't think the man recognized him. He lowered his voice, trying out the charm. "It's only Remy, homme. V'amis, eh?"

Logan growl rose and he shook his head sharply like a horse shaking off biting flies. From what Remy could feel, his mind was lost in the exaggerated instincts of his animal side. Remy tried to look non-threatening. Logan shifted uneasily, raising his head to sniff the air.

"Dat's right, homme." Remy murmured hopefully. "You know dis t'ief. Come on, homme. Let me help you."

He eased closer, wrinkling his nose at the stink. The man smelled of blood, sex, bile and shit. Swallowing nervously, Remy put a light hand on the man's arm. Logan shuddered, jerking his face aside. He swayed, leaning against the wall, retched and spat out a mouthful of bile.

"Merde - homme, you hurt bad." Remy tried to take some of the other man's weight and staggered. Logan gasped, his hand tightening on Remy's shoulder. "Come on, Logan. Dat's it. Not so far to go."

Throat tight with fear, Remy led the big man back to his room. In the brighter light, Remy could see the blood striping the man's naked body. Blood was thick and dark on his thighs and one eye was swollen shut and leaking clear fluid. Remy shuddered, hissing through is teeth at the sight. Logan seemed in shock, heading single-mindedly to the shower and struggling to get the water on. This was the price for Remy's freedom.

"Remy h-help you, homme. Dieu - sweet god, forgive me for dis." Remy whispered. Logan growled at him as the thief's voice broke.

"Remy t'ought you heal, homme?" The thief muttered to himself. Logan had sunk to his knees in the shower, letting the water run over him, hands fisted against the porcelain. Pink water gurgled down the drain. Something was wrong, the man was obviously in pain. His mind nearly broken under some terrible strain. Remy could only sense some terrible mix of rage and hate and love and overwhelming shame.

Desperate to do something to help, Remy got some soap and began to carefully wash the blood off of Logan's face. For some reason, the man seemed to be tolerating him, though he watched Remy silently remaining eye wary and feral. The blood stains suggested serious wounds but the skin underneath was unmarked. Remy touched the damaged eye but Logan pulled away. "W'hat she *do* to you?"

Something bright glittered on the man's back and Remy reached cautiously down and tried to pull it off. Glass stung his fingers and Remy hissed in pain. Logan groaned and flinched. Remy looked closer with a surge of nausea and horror. Glass glittered across the man's back and shoulders, half buried in healing skin.

"On, lord." Remy squeezed his eyes shut, trembling. This was the pain he was sensing. He knew the doctor would never leave the lab and Logan was to heavy to move again. There was no one to help them. He reached out, carefully, and pulled. A shard of glass, and inch long, came out of Logan's back. Blood welled up and washed away. Remy watched as the skin closed up again. The Canadian whimpered, shaking, and bowed his head in silent plea for help.

"Remy sorry - Dieu. Remy so sorry." Tears trickling down his face, Remy reached out again, clever hands trembling and pulled out the next piece. "God 'ave mercy on dis thief."

END