SHADOW MAN--CH10: BROTHERLY LOVE 10/15
- Chapter 10-Brotherly Love
She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Female,
definitely, with her firm, jutting breasts and long, sinuous limbs.
Her blue scaled skin and golden eyes might be those of a serpent or a
mermaid. Exotic, mysterious, alluring He stared at her, trying not
to, feeling himself growing hot and hard, limiting himself to brief,
flashing glimpses of the table where she sat with Toad and the Man as
he went through the fighting routine the Man had set for him. Leap,
slash, duck, attack, spin, thrust, turn, slash, repeat, repeat,
repeat, faster, faster, faster
He snapped to attention and at the Man's beckoning finger went to
stand by his side.
"Mystique, meet our newest brother."
She regarded him openly, smiled, and her pink tongue wetted blue lips
in a slow, sensuous caress. "Him?" she asked. And her voice, low,
rumbling organ tones, reverberated in his loins. Her musky scent, one
of sea spray and leaf mould, made him dizzy.
Now the Man smiled as well. "He has seen the error of his ways.
Haven't you, my boy?"
"And what are we fighting for?"
"The Brotherhood of Mutants fights prejudice with power, fear with
fire. We are the advanced, we are the evolved. We are the future of
mankind and we will be accepted and honored."
She laughed, and it sounded like water chuckling over a rocky
streambed. He was enchanted.
"Sabertooth will be amused," she commented.
"The fervor of a new convert," the Man agreed, "but heartfelt,
nonetheless. The poor boy needed focus in his life and I have
provided that. Sit! Sit!" the Man now ordered, and Boy sat beside
good, old Toad so that he could gaze and gaze at the lovely creature
"comes at a bad time," the Man was saying.
Boy realized that he hadn't been paying attention and tore his eyes
away from the woman to concentrate on the Man. To be inattentive
meant pain. Although, recently he had received fewer and fewer
reprimands. He was finally 'shaping up' the Man said, and that was
good. He wanted to make the Man happy. So frequently, the Man was sad.
Once he had dared ask if it was something he had done to make the Man
so despondent. And if so, to punish him harshly. And the Man had
drawn him to his side, and smiled a sad smile, and mussed his hair,
and said no, no, that he was a good boy, a brave boy, and that the
Man was just remembering. In that way telling him that 'remembering'
was a bad thing.
"I'm on the point of breakthrough in my research," the Man
continued. "The newest DNA tests look promising, very promising. To
leave now would mean almost three months of wasted effort."
The Man frowned at the table top. "And the experiments are taking
even longer now that my assistant has inexplicably disappeared." He
fixed Toad with the unforgiving, steely gaze Boy dreaded so much and
that one felt a tremor of fear run though him. "You didn't have
anything to do with Fawn's abrupt departure, I trust?"
"Me?" Toad honked indignantly. "I juth know what I already told you.
Thee didn't come to work and thee wathn't at her houth either. And
all her animalth were gone. The cageth were empty."
"Peculiar. Well, it can't be helped. However, you see the situation."
He turned to the woman. "If I could have two weeks more, even
one . . . "
She shrugged, and Boy was charmed by how the scales ruffled on her
shoulders like a bird fluffing its feathers. "It's your decision."
"They won't be able to find me as long as I wear this." The Man
tapped a finger on the dull, reddish helmet he had put on soon after
the woman's arrival. "How did they discover that I was missing?"
Her eyes shrank to little gold sequins. "I've been wondering that
myself, and I don't know. One day they thought I was Magneto, the
nextI had to morph through five people to escape."
The Man addressed the table's last occupant. "Does anyone at the
school know you're here?"
They all stared at him, waiting. Boy gaped, gasped. Fear made his
breath ragged and his eyes frantically searched the familiar, cozy
lab for some answer that would please the Man. He found nothing.
"S-s-s-school?" he stuttered at last and unconsciously cringed.
Toad hic-hiced. "Heth forgotten!"
"Yes." The Man looked with mingled sadness and displeasure on his
creation. "We'll stay one more week, then. Meanwhile, Toad, you will
The woman rose to her feet in a languorous, lithe movement like water
flowing up and came around the table to stand behind the crestfallen,
newest brother. "I'm tired. Want to take me somewhere I can lie
down?" She draped an arm over his shoulder and laid her palm on his
He stiffened at her touch and his flesh burned under her cool hand,
but he kept his eyes on the Man. "I- I haven't been dismissed yet."
Water tumbled over rocks as she laughed. "Magneto, what did you do to
The Man looked up, apprised the situation at a glance and gave a sour
smile. "Go ahead, my boy, show her a room, you're dismissed. And you,
Mystique, be careful with him. He's fragile still."
She would sleep in neither the Man's room nor Toad's room, would have
nothing but his room, even though it had no door and just a mattress
laid out on the concrete. She laughed when she saw it. "You'll be on
the bottom, then, but for now . . . ."
She pressed him against the broken wall and began to unbutton his
black shirt, one of the Man's discards, button by slow button,
slapping away his hands when he would fondle her breasts, and gouging
deep, bleeding furrows down his chest and around his nipples with her
nails, yanking out tweaks of hair, biting.
He stared up at the ceiling, quivering, panting, his own nails
digging into his palms as his flesh ripped open under her touch. Pain
was good, it meant he was alive. It seemed that only fear and
suffering could bring him out of his usual deathlike stupor, and her
petty cruelties of smarts and stings, pricks and hurts did not wound
him so much as make his skin burn and tingle, his groin ache. Fire
ran through his veins as first punishment then pleasure followed one
another in rapid succession and he moaned in delicious agony. For no
sooner did her scratches draw blood than the skin healed, leaving a
trace of red to mark her passage. Eventually, he was in this manner
tattooed all over his chest and the shirt was in her hands.
"Turn around," she ordered, and he obeyed.
She drew his arms behind his back and began tying them together with
the shirt twisted into a rope.
He tried to look over his shoulder and she struck his face with the
back of her hand.
"Hold still! It's more fun this way."
He was on the mattress now, she having pushed him there, and he
submitted. The Man had long since burned out all rebellion.
She pulled down his jeans and his manhood sprang upright. With a
delighted laugh she encompassed him with her loins and rode him and
rode him, beating his chest with her fists, clawing it with her
nails, nipping his flesh with her teeth, kissing, licking. He groaned
as the fire grew and grew, finally surged through him to suddenly
explode in a shuddering rush.
Laughing breathlessly, she threw herself on him, rubbing her breasts
against his chest even as she raked her nails down his ribs. He felt
himself rise in her again and closed his eyes in ecstasy.
"I can be any woman you want." And she cruelly bit his nipple.
He cried out, looked up to see a woman with fair skin and long red
hair straddling him. One of the dreams! He struggled to free himself,
attack, but his bound arms were beneath him and her added weight kept
them pinned fast.
"I can also be your own worse enemy." The red haired woman stood and
turned into a ferocious, hairy, animal-like man with claws jutting
from his fists.
It was himself, he realized, but a violent, frightening self. The
beast looked at him, laughed, and drove his claws deep into the bound
victim's chest. He screamed, writhed, coughed up blood.
The next instant the beautiful blue creature was at his side, running
cool fingers down his face. "Now we're even," she said, and kissed
him long and slow on the mouth. Her blue lips were smeared with red
when she left.
After a time he emerged from his former cell. He knew it now as such,
knew also he had deserved to be prisoned there, punished. Had he not
dared to defy the Man? He remembered allwhat he had been, what he
had doneand was shamed and sickened by his perversity.
For the shock of self attacking self had completed Magneto's work.
The strong had killed the weak. Shaped by the Man, forged by fire,
now tempered by blood, what rose from the crimson-stained mattress
was a fighting machine dedicated to the Brotherhood. Wolverine.