This is the third fib of a much retentive story arc, which is best read in the rules of order of the List at the end.

transformation of German language words or musical phrase at the end. However, I have tried to ready the meaning fairly open in context.



PRAY FOR US SINNERS
Part 1

"Hail, Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with Thee. Blessed art thou amongst cleaning lady, and blessed is the yield of thy womb, Jesus.
sanctum Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and in the hour of our death. Amen."


Leaning over to the nightstand beside my bed, I take the prayer beads that Father Bauer gave me so long ago out of the top draftsman and hold it in my paw. It is different from most Catholic rosaries in that it has an discharge cross formed from four capitulum, rather than a mere cross with the Good Shepherd on it.

Just the feel of the beads brings back memories of my untested daylight. Once I could believe with my whole heart that there was a God Who looked out for this domain and its people, but that was a hanker fourth dimension ago. Once I thought my God could only love, but now I am no longer so sure. Yet still the astragal have me comfort and the prayers create a pocket-sized corner of peace in my soul.

I desperately need that peace just now. Logan has gone off on another of his secret missions and I am once Sir Thomas More solitary. I do not bed where he is or what he is doing, but I know it is severe and possibly cruel and barbarous also. I do not know how much longer I can deal with this, but what is even high-risk is that I do not know how practically foresightful Logan will be able to deal with this. He thinks I do not realize that it is tearing him apart, but I do, and I fear for him on many levels. Enough ! Let me pray.



When I finally swan off to sleep, I am still holding the prayer beads between my fingers.

I am awakened by hired man grabbing my hips. As I am turned ungently over onto my side, I catch a quick glimpse of Logan's naked body. He smells of sweat and blood and gasoline, and there is a look on his cheek that I have never seen before, a gaga grimace of hatred, storm, or lust, I am not surely which. As he climbs onto the bed and pulls my naked rear up in the air, I am not even sure he recognizes me. His arduous cock military press against my ass, roughly seeking to open me.

I must be lashing my tail in agitation since I feel it strike something. His helping hand grabs my poor shadow near the far end, forcing it sharply upwards toward my point. I can not stop a cry of pain as I struggle to get away.

"Hold still,"comes his interpreter in a oceanic abyss and vicious growl.

"Logan, was ist los ? !"

"Halt's maul !"he hisses, the crude bod of"Shut your mouth !"No, this can not be happening !

Shocked, I stop struggling, trying to rive my seat over to the side in the distinctive motion of a distaff cat inviting entrance, hoping that will signal my designate cooperation, if he will just blockade and tell me what is going on.

He releases my tail when he realizes what I am doing. With one hard poking, he enters me. I concentrate on adjusting to this sudden insight. My hands clench into fists in the mainsheet and I realize I still have my prayer beads in my right helping hand as the edges of the Cross dig into my palm.

"Please, you are hurting me !"

"Shut up, you fuckin'hussy ! You love it. You know you do. You were trained to love it."

"I do not ! Stop !"

That gets me a gruelling slap against the side of meat of my thigh, along with a deeper thrust into my burning ass. I am no unknown to rough sex, but this is different. This is not just rough, this is vicious. It is deliberately meant to pain, and certainly not what I want just now.


The initial stupor has begun to wear off and I have managed to loosen enough to accept what he is doing, as I must if I do not wish to be mangled candid. But it is like being fucked with a tire smoothing iron.

"Oh yeah, baby. That's it. Take it. Show me how much you like me to regale you this way."

"No. Please !"

He reaches around and takes hold of my cock, which is half surd by now. I am shamed that my consistency would betray me like this, but I know that it can happen.

He seems angry that I am not more perk up. His finger's breadth wrap around my spear, pulling as if he is trying to milk a stubborn cow. Why is he doing this ?

Suddenly I do not deal why anymore. I am only furious. In an try to stop him, I teleport us both across the elbow room, then back again. Although under ordinary bicycle fortune I can insure whether or not I take someone, or part of someone, who is touching me along with me, I am not sure how it would mold with him already inside me. Possibly I would take along only his cock. Even as tempestuous as I now am, I am not unforced to take that risk. However, Logan hates the touch of being teleported, so perhaps I can use that alone to bring him to his senses.

We end up back on the bed, only now I am flatcar on my face. He has let go of my phallus and is still for a consequence. I begin to desire that it is over. Then I feel his fist press against the rear of my neck opening and see his claws extend on either side of meat. Since I am still alive, I know it can be only his outer pincer that have skewered the canvas on each side of my throat. That leaves the centre one, which is pricking slightly into the binding of my neck.

"Do that again and you're a deadened man."Very calmly spoken, which only makes me more certain that he means it. But how could he ? This makes no sense. Am I having a nightmare ?

I can perhaps still terminate him, if I can teleport us dissipated than he can cover his claw, and then -- No ! I have sworn never to do that again. It is far too dangerous.

He goes back to what he was doing, driving his cock repeatedly into my ass, with no lubrication, nil to still its way. All right, this is not the first fourth dimension such a affair has happened to me. He will not last forever. No man can. I will distribute with it as I have dealt with it before.

I picture again the basement door in my piffling House of Pain. In my mind, I push it give, and stare into the terrifying iniquity at the backside of the stairs. sight of way down there, Kurt. more than enough for this.

The brand on either side of meat of my neck touch anatomy as my body is pushed repeatedly forward by his jabbing. I feel his tongue lick at the fresh slice. The predilection of my blood only spurs him on to capital efforts, but I lie there hitch and unaffectionate, my judgment absorbed in imagining the painfulness as a nasty tight tangle of barbed wire the size of a soccer ball, zip nearly as bad as nigh of what I have dumped into that repellent basement over the age. In it goes, to bring together all the rest.

But my emotionlessness is not what he wants. His unfreeze helping hand gropes underneath me once again, searching for my penis.

"Come for me,"he commands, leaning down on top of me. I feel his panting breathing time against my ear."I wan na feel your muscleman spasm. Want that around me as I empty myself into you."

He works my cock hard, his fingers so pissed that I feel it more as pain than as pleasure. But there is pleasure, nevertheless, and I start to react.

"No, I vill not do this."

"Yeah, ya will. I'll make ya. You enjoy what I'm doin'to you. I know it."

"Nein,"I reply, through clenched teeth.

"Ja,"he insists, one finger now persistently rubbing over my slit. The angle of his pelvic girdle shifts deliberately and he pulls back a little, which allows him to hit that toothsome place inside me.

I suck in my breathing spell and shudder, despite myself.

"You're gon na do it, or I'll give this finally for a full long while yet. I wan na feel you come."I have never heard such a gloating note in Mount Logan's voice. Is this what he sounds like to his enemy ? But I am not his enemy. My heart sinks, as my cock stiffens further. He is right. I can not even admit back this much of myself from him. If he can make me enjoy this against my will, then he has violated me far more deeply than he imagines.

At that persuasion, my anger flares again. No, this satisfaction he will not own. Two can act at this peculiar game.

For a few moments, I allow him to continue what he is doing without any response, then I gasp a little as I imitate the cover girl wave of tenseness that normally would flow through my consistence when I am being fucked.

I start to run against him, contracting my inside tightly in time with his strokes, rocking my pelvis as I do so. It creates in him the sense impression of being drawn deeper inside. This is something I can do very well and it never fails to get to him, just as it does not break down now. I feel the enthusiastic response of his body, and I rejoice in it, even as I push the pain it is causing away from me, rejecting it, refusing to recognize it as my own. Away, away, into the wickedness, where the so-and-so and dirt ball will devour it, the screeching demons that hide in the corners will tear it apart and nominate it gone.

Away with any pleasure I may be feeling also. I do not require it. It does not belong to me. It is rejected, to die of starvation and forlornness in the terrible confines of that dank basement.

He is close to his climax, and he knows it. He can not hold out much longer. His script is jerking my cock so surd that I think he wishes to buck it off.

"Come, damn you !"he gasps."I wan na feel it ! I want to reach you find it ! !"

"Aahhh !"I oblige him with a long pant of ersatz ecstasy, convulsing my entire body, pushing myself forward on the bed so that his fingers are no longer near the tip of my phallus, pretending an orgasm that does not live as I jerk my hips and tighten my insides as hard as I can around the twitching prick in my rectum.

So tightly am I focused on this pretense that I hardly feel it when Mount Logan does the Sami thing, filling me with his cum, with a hanker hesitation moan that reminds me of a bruise creature. He is usually much noisier.

I smile to myself over the evident success of my conjuring trick.

His free weight presses down on me briefly as he relaxes. I have to try hard to draw in a intimation, but his claw still bracket my neck and I do not wish to say anything that might cause him anger. I am aware that I have made his claws printing press deeper into my shoulders with that last move, but I had to get to a military position where he would not be able to feel my lack of ejaculation.

rakehell trickles from the paw that still clutches my rosary, but even more is running down from the cuts on my shoulders. I can see it soaking into the sail next to my cheek, where his blade have impaled our mattress.

He lifts his system of weights slightly, allowing me to rest loose. The blades retreat into his forearms. Is it finally over ? Yes, I think so. He pulls his softening cock out of my ass. I wince and bite my lip against the brief muscle spasm of pain in the ass from my raw sphincter, then sigh with relief as the rasping pressure level is gone.

In the sudden tranquillity, I can almost feel his eyes boring into me from the rachis. He still kneels between my knees. What will I see when I turn to face him ? My fan or my rapist ? Either way, I am going to amaze the shit out of him.

In one smooth motion, I pull myself forward then flip over and up into a scrunch up position, glaring at him with eye that would have been glowing red, not yellow, if I had any mastery over their vividness.

He kneels there, his regard flickering over me quickly. He can not assist but see the blood running from my shoulders, just as he also can not miss the fact that there is no smell of my cum, and no white smear on the moody skin of my belly.

His centre narrow and he cocks his forefront slightly sideways, questioning what he has noticed. My frown deepens. I confirm his realization that I deceived him with a brief shake of my head.

I see a wild hatred hybridizing his face and I am afraid. If I had any sense, I would teleport out of the way right now. But I am too enraged to run away.

"Vhy, Logan ? Warum hast du das getan ?"I demand of him viciously, set up to move if he so much as twitches in my charge.

He looks as if he has walked through underworld and somehow lived, but still is not sure he has survived. honey God in Eden, what has happened ? The flavor on his case is something that I have seen only during his insane fighting cult, but why would he be that raging with me ? Then I look closer and see the bleakness. It is not me at whom his rage is directed ; it is himself.

Fine. That's where my own fury is directed just now.

"Do you reckon I enjoy being treated like that ?"I hiss.

Finally, I get a response, a kick the bucket"No."He covers his face with his hands."Omigod, no ! ! No, no, no ! ! I can't bandstand this anymore !"

As I watch dumbfounded, he grabs his private parts with one helping hand and stretches them out away from his body, while the vane on his other hand flash bulb out.

The moment I realize his aim, I am in front of him, both of my hands grappling with his arm but barely managing to bind him."Logan, no !"I scream. Then I remember the word he said would always produce him freeze, no matter what, the Japanese command to stop, the safeword he gave me when he fisted me."lusterlessness !"

To my astonishment, it works. He looks at me as if soul has turned a fire hosepipe on him. I think, I hope, that I see some sanity coming back into his eye. The leaf blade retract. He collapses forward onto me, catching me off balance. We topple sideways, to end up lying typeface to face but at least still on the bed. He curls up against me, trying not to cry but failing. His interpreter is muffled, dire, pleading."Help me, Kurt ! You've got ta aid me ! I'm losin'it ! delight !"

I wrap my implements of war and empennage around him securely."I am here."

Have you ever held someone like Logan while he cries ? It is a painful thing to sense a unassailable man's body shiver as he fights against the SOB that force their way out of him. It is heart-breaking, for you know there is no consolation that you can pass, but only your arms around him.


It is not long before he starts to get himself under control. Meanwhile, I take some farseeing deep breaths myself, in an attempt to get past my angriness and harm over what he did, in orderliness that I will be able to utter about it more or less calmly and rationally. Perhaps I am somewhat at fault. After all, it was not long ago that I begged, no, I commanded, him to take me punishing and with no consideration for my needs. In a crisis of self-loathing and disgust, I truly wanted it then. But now, I have begun healing after sharing my shame with Logan. I need love and patronise, and gentleness. But how could he know, if I did not narrate him ? And what is it that he needs now ? Sex is not governed solely by reasonableness and system of logic ; I know that.

I must decide what is to be done succeeding, and so I hold him and relieve oneself occasional soothing haphazardness, as my idea considers the uncommitted options. Of one thing I am sure ; this can not be dealt with in ignorance and silence between us.



Finally, he pulls himself back and away from me, even as I relax my detention on him.

His face is a wreck, so I grab an bound of the bedsheet and hand it to him. He wipes his optic and blows his nose into it. Well, why not ? The entire bed is a spate anyway.

time to try program A, the target plan of attack."Now you vill narrate me vhat that vas all about."

"I - can't tell you."

I frown at that. I have heard that sentence far too often lately, whenever I ask him about his solo deputation. I go back into a crouch, to gain some space from him. He looks at me, assessing the legal injury he has done.

"Are you all right ?"

I nod my head. In all essential aspect, my soundbox is not seriously damaged.

"Let me adopt you down to the infirmary,"he offers."There's parentage on your shoulders."


"Nein. I do not need that."I make a damaging gesture with my hand, forgetting about the rosary now tangled around my fingers.

He grabs my wrist to take care at it tightlipped."Jesus piece of ass Christ, Elf !"he gasps, seeing the all-fired beads.

"Logan, nein, bitte."

"Sorry. I know you hate for me to say that. But were you holding your prayer beads the intact time I -- ?"

I jerk my wrist free from his grasp and unscramble the string of beads as scoop I can. I set them down on my pillow, still keeping my eyes on him.

"Nein, Dummkopf,"I reply, my voice dripping with sarcasm."I picked it up just now and cut myself on it. Happens all the time."

Logan winces at the rancour of my words."You still want to go to the hospital,"he insists, as if that will make everything all right.

"Do not vex. The track are not deep and will heal."Time for Plan B, Distraction and Persistence."There is something else you could do for me though."

"What is it ?"

Suddenly, he is anxious to make reparation. Good.

"Five things, actually."I hold up my undamaged left hand, unfolding one finger."First, get me two aspirin and a glass of vater."I unfold a endorse finger."Next, help me into the lavatory and get into the shower vith me. Ve are both a mess."I start on my former paw, unfolding the fingers more gingerly."Three. Put clean linens on the bed."He nods."Four. Go downstairs and get us something to eat. I do not like vhat it is, but chocolate ice emollient vould be nice."He nods again. So far, so good. I run out of fingers, unless I wish to use one of my thumb."Five."I look hard into his optic."Vhen you have done all that, you vill lie down beside me in our bed and tell me vhat is the cause for vhat you just did."

"I already said I can't do that."

"If you expect me to ever parcel this bed vith you again, you vill do it."And if he does not now realize that I mean it, he is deaf, dumb, and blind. I can not deal with this if I do not jazz what it is.

Finally, he looks at the floor, takes a breathing spell, and nods."You got it, Elf."

I smile at death, as he heads for the door that leads to our bathroom to get me my aspirin. Perhaps that will ease the hurt of my sliced shoulders and the painful sensation from his fell onslaught.

When he returns and holds out the pad of paper and the water glass, I reach for them with my uninjured handwriting, take the aspirins and pop them into my mouth, then gesture for him to give me the water. I drain the integral glass before getting up from the bed. My genu are suddenly weak and my legs feel shaky. Probably a delayed reaction to what happened.

Leaning forward, Logan scoops me up in his arms."We're goin'into the john to patch you up."

I rest my promontory against his shoulder joint, reminding myself that I will go on composure and we will peach this over rationally.

"Shower first, or houseclean up your cuts ?"

"Shower."

He sets me on my human foot, one arm still around my waist to stabilise me as he fiddles with the water.

"C'mon, darlin ’. Can you step over the edge of the cascade stall ?"

"Ja. I may be a bit precarious but I am not an handicap, you know."


A unawares time later, I am back in bed eating the ice cream he has fetched for me, feeling often advantageously for the exhibitioner and the patch that cover my various small wounding. Mount Logan has even cleaned up my rosary, and it is again in the drawer of the nightstand. My sore ass has given up most of its complaining. The only if thing that still hurts badly is my heart.

Logan lies on his side of the bed in silence, looking rather rueful but saying nothing.

I hold out the ice cream container to him, as a kind of pacification offer."Vould you like the quietus of this ? It is really quite delicious, even if it is called mouse Tracks."

"That's elk Tracks, darlin ’."

I look closer at the container."Du hast recht. But it is still not a very appetising name."

"No, it isn't, is it ?"Now he sounds only very weary."You eat it all, Elf. I'm just not very hungry right now."

Unusual, where ice cream is concerned.

"There is a suit of beer in my study,"I suggest.

He shakes his head.

Even more strange. I am no yearner surely I want to hear the explanation I so viciously demanded of him earlier, but I know I must.

I scrape the close few spoonfuls of ice ointment into my mouth and set the container on the floor. I move over until I am lying close to him, but not quite touching.

"If you vould like to smoke a cigar, I vill overturn the ban against smoking in our room for one night."It is the only matter I can think of that might put him More at ease.

"That's not necessary."He gives a resigned sigh."OK, I'll tell ya. But you've got ta do something first."

"Vhat ?"I ask suspiciously.

"I want you to cuss that you will never tell anyone else what I tell you now."

"Is this really necessity ?"

"Yes, if you want an answer to your question."

"Very vell. Before God, I svear I vill never tell anyone else."

Tentatively, he draws me airless. I lean my head against his shoulder, scrunching down a little in order to do so.

"All right, Elf. This is what you wanted. Just listen. Don't say anything until I'm finished."

I nod, just enough that he can feel my oral sex relocation. What happened next is something that I do not like to believe about, but it can not be avoided.

"There was this woman. Let's scream her Mary -"

I wince at his alternative of epithet, but say nothing.

He goes on to trace what happened in a flat all in tone of voice that only now and then chap and threatens to break with unshed tears. He recites the wholly matter coldly and clinically, almost as if he were reading it from a police force report. Perhaps that is the merely way he can deal describing it.

"The Virgin was a teleporter. She was also the loss leader of a mutant terrorist chemical group that had pulled off a bombing at a chemical manufacturing facility in Canada last year. At to the lowest degree 30 the great unwashed died in the explosion and a lot more were seriously injured, not to observe the environmental price from the toxic hooey that got spread all over the local area. That same chemical group had threatened another flack, this time at a nuclear baron industrial plant, with The Virgin playing a pivotal role, once again. Given their by success, the threat was more than believable. We had to stop it, but we also wanted to get the names of the others involved. We had learned her whereabouts from an informer, and I was supposed to get to her, make her tell their public figure if I could, but either way, I was to kill her."

I want to arrest and ask him who the"We"was that he mentioned, but I had promised not to disturb. I file that away for tardy retainer and say nix.

"As you can imagine, it wasn't easy to capture a teleporter, even though I had been given a collar that was supposed to be able to nullify mutant powers. If I hadn't been so accustomed to dealing with you, I very well may not receive been able to get close plenty to her to get the neckband on her. It took me awhile to figure out her limit and weaknesses, but it was a long and deplete chase even so. Although she was able to jump into station without seeing them, her range was zero like yours and she tired easily if forced to jump more than a dozen fourth dimension. Once I knew that, I had her on the defensive. It was only a affair of time before I knocked her down and collared her, after having chased her into an abandoned warehouse. But we had been seen and followed for much of the way, so I knew I didn't have often time before her fellow terrorists would figure out where we were and make out to her rescue. I had her tied up securely, but getting the information quickly had to be my boss objective."

"‘ You're dead either way, dame ’,"I told her."‘ hold me the names and I can make it fast and easy. Don't, and it'll be much more painful. And you'll tell me anyway. Your choice ’."

Abruptly, he extends the claws on the arm draped over my shoulder, then retracts them again, so fast I have no time to react.

"I showed her how my pincer work, in causa she didn't know. I was trying to scare the selective information out of her, hoping she'd just talk and I could get this over with fast.

"She refused. I tried a few Sir Thomas More meter to convince her to change her mind, but she wouldn't. I knew there wasn't much meter left, as I could find out people sneaking around outside the place where I had taken her. She, of row, didn't have any idea that saving might be near at hand.

"I held the knucks of my clenched fist just above her pubic bones."He demonstrates on me, his brass knucks resting a few inches above my groin. I flinch, but he ignores that.

"I slowly extended my nipper, doing my best to overleap the abdominal muscle aorta or other major blood vessels to avoid killing her too quickly."

Before I let my panic overwhelm me entirely, I realize he has not actually matched his activity to his words this fourth dimension, but is only pressing down hard on me with his knuckles.

"I dragged them up through her abdomen, still very slowly."

Only his fist mimicked what he had done, but I am far from being reassured. It is both absolutely inconceivable and entirely too easy to reckon how it would sense if done in reality.

"She had courage, I'll give her that. She lasted until my blade were only an in below her ribcage before she gave me the information I wanted. I ripped upwards and into her centre, making undecomposed on my promise to make water it fast if she cooperated. As I saw the stemma spurt out around my hands, anger flared through my brain. ‘ Why didn't you just make it wanton, damn you ? !'I shouted, retracting the leaf blade so I could grab her corpse and shake it in a fit of irrational fury."

He hangs his head, his closed fist still resting heavily above my xiphoid process.

"There is something more ?"I ask, as he remains silent. I refuse to let my shock at this confession show in my voice.

He shakes his head, but the mitt pressing on my chest is trembling.

"Ja, there is. Say it."

"You really wan na know ?"

"Ja."

"My dick was hard during the entire time I was torturing her. In fact, after she died, I almost raped her dead body."

I have no worry believing that. My phallus lies limply between my legs, but I can see the bulge his makes beneath the flat solid, half erect even now. Besides, I have good reason to recognize that reaction.

"Vhat did you do then ?"

"I had to fight my way out of the place. But that was no literal job. In fact, it was a relief. All I could think of was how badly I needed to get myself off. I've never been that screwball with luxuria in my life. I was afraid I was going to spoil the side by side mortal I saw. It was insane. I knew it, but I couldn't break off it. Sex was all I could think of."He shrugs helplessly, finally withdrawing his hand."Maybe it was a way of diverting myself from the murder I had just committed.

"I rode straight here on my cycle, stopping only to phone in the data I had gotten from Mary, to clean up as well as I could beside a lake, and to get gas, avoiding people as much as possible. I even stopped a few times to jerk off. But that didn't help much. I needed to take mortal, needed to feel them struggling against me, needed to get it on I was forcing them. The just matter I could think of was to focus that lust on you, convince myself it had to be you, no one else would do. I hoped by doing that I wouldn't be tempted to go after some random stranger. It worked. It worked only too well."

This is the man I have dared to have a go at it ? This frigidity and deadly killing machine ? beloved God in Heaven !

He doubtlessly detects a change in my olfactory property as I struggle to process what he has just told me.

"Kurt, I had to. sinless lives depended on getting that information. I had no early choice."

"There is alvays a choice."But I do not vocalise very convinced of what I have said.

"I had to,"he insists again."But that doesn't mean value I feel salutary about it. You know that."

I have never before heard him vocalise so defeated and hopeless.
For several farsighted min, there is only secrecy, as I try to retrieve of a answer.

"Ja, I know that. I also know that ve could pass the remainder of the night arguing about vhether the end can ever apologise the means, and get novhere, just as philosophers down through the ages have failed to settle that enquiry satisfactorily."

He nods, but says nothing. Neither one of us is in the mood for a discussion about philosophy.

So I ask my check question, trying my easily to say the W correctly."Who is the ‘ we'you mentioned ?"

"I can't -"he begins, but he stops short when he sees the spirit I am giving him."I've been working with a smuggled ops partition of S.H.I.E.L.D. that was established specifically to do in this grouping of sport terrorists after their first of all approach. nick ferocity approached me to do this previous last year."

He hangs his head."What I just described was the most recent mission. There have been others that involved killing, but this was the worst."

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no ! But what did you expect, Kurt ? You knew it would be something awful. Now what ?

"But vhy did S.H.I.E.L.D. enlistee you ?"

"For one thing, I'm Canadian. For another, I've had very extensive military experience, even if I don't think back it all."

He takes a hint and glances down at the bed."There's also the fact that I owed them one for a party favour in the past. Fury called in my marker. They needed person who could sour on his own, soul who could get hold of out specific people with what they like to call off surgical precision."He shrugs."If I'm not safe at that, who is ?"

"But the X-Men are not cause of death. Or at to the lowest degree, we try very hard not to be. This is nix but assassination."

"That's right. Sometimes that's the only if thing that works."

"And premeditated torture ? The good guys do not do that."

"Ever heard of waterboarding, Elf ?"

I have no answer for that.

"Are you sure, really certain, that these people are telling you the Truth vhen they send you to kill someone ? Could they be lying, using you to do their dirty vork ?"

"No, I can't be that certain,"he admits."Things aren't usually that cut and dried in real life history, you know. But S.H.I.E.L.D. is fairly decent, for a confidential authority. After all, it works under the aegis of the United Nations, not just for one country.

"Be that as it may,"I persist,"is it not possible that your ‘ Mary'vas innocent ? Or merely a suspect ?"

"She knew the names, Kurt."

"A person under torment may tell you anything she thinks you vish to find out. It is not a certainly indicator of truth."

"Elf, I can't go there right now. I just can't. Please don't ask me to."

"You vill go there, and further, before this is finally resolved betveen us."If I had known then how very rightful that was to turn, I may very well not have said it.

"I will. I promise. But not now, not here, not like this. So far, I've been able to keep my head together. It just seemed to hit me harder this clock time. I - I cracked under the strain."

That is the understatement of the 100.

"I do not jazz if I can take this, Logan."

"You insisted on knowing."He shrugs helplessly."This is the reality of the globe. And of my existence."

"Nein !"

"Kurt, you know it is. You know what I'm like. You know some of the things I've done. Now you know about one more affair I've done, that's all."

I shake my headland."It vas not so long ago that you told me I did not have to be ruled by my past. Have you yourself not learned that deterrent example ?"

"It's too late for me. I'll never be anything else."

"Vhy not ?"

"Aw, darlin ’, don't do this to me. I'm the best there is at what I do. And what I do best is kill people. You know that. red region and eternal damnation, you've seen me do it ! I've even killed the adult female I loved ! !"

I could not meet his eyes, because I could not bear to see the bareness I knew would be there. Yes, in my gist of warmness, I knew all this. I just did not desire to realize that I knew it. He has more blood on his hands, not to mention on his claws, than anyone has any right to have. He is a killer whale many meter over, and he will not vary just for me. I should not know him so much. And yet, I can not not love him. There is too much that is right, and kind, and brave, and baronial about him also. If I want the Wolverine, I will have to take him as he is, not as I might wish him to be. I can not control him and I can not change him, any more than he can control me or change me. So what do I do ?

"I know what you're thinkin ’, Elf. You're debating whether you want to bide with me."

"I could never give you."But my voice does not post the article of faith needed to say those news, and he knows it.

"Sure you could. And I wouldn't even blame you if you did."
I glance at him sideways, not knowing what I should say. His head is down, his Kuki-Chin resting on his chest. He is the image of hopelessness.

"I don't think I can go on without you here, darlin ’, especially now. But I'm also not sure I have the right wing to even ask that of you, especially now."

I consider my own many sinfulness and misdeed. In my nous, I hear begetter Bauer's voice reading the write up of the woman
caught in adultery :"He that is without sin among you, let him cast the first Isidor Feinstein Stone at her."

A part of me wants to reach out to him, to touch him and reassure him. But another portion is afraid to do that, so I only say,"Ve vill vork it out. It is OK."

"No, Elf, it's not OK. Things have been gettin'to me in a way they never have before. Ever since I started doing these missions -"

He runs his men back thru his waste hairsbreadth, grabbing his brain as if he fears it may explode."Maybe this time was worse because Mary was a teleporter, like you. Maybe chasin'her reminded me too much of trying to trance you. Maybe killing her somehow got miscellaneous up in my mind with killing you. I don't know for sure what it was. Maybe I'm just goin'crazy."

I gather my courage into my bridge player and touch him gently on the side of his face, which is still turned away from me in shame.

"I vould vorry more about your sanity if this did not disturb you so deeply."

He takes my hired man and touches it to his lips in a candy kiss, then sets it down on my own second joint."I think I know now why Xavier didn't just go ahead and restore my computer memory. He knew I wouldn't be capable to do by it, if I knew the full extent of my guilt."He shrugs."Maybe Charlie was right. I can't face the accuracy of what I am."

"Enough !"I say abruptly."If I ever leave our bed, it vill be because you no longer vant me in it."

This time I manage to sound as if I mean it. And I do mean it. I think.

"How can you still stay on with me ? Fuck, I just raped you !"

"You did not."

"Whaddya mean I did not ? ! You didn't want it. I knew that. You tried to stop me by teleporting, in typesetter's case you've forgotten. I had your neck opening between my claw, and I know I hurt you. I don't know what you call that, but I call it rape."

"If there can be a distinction made betveen slaying and manslaughter, can there not also be such a distinction made betveen rape and an act of desperation undertaken to spare others, especially if one is not entirely sane at the fourth dimension ?"

"wellspring -- -"

"I know you, Logan. I know vhat it takes to do you act that vay. This is not the foremost time you have used sex to rid yourself of the rage vithin you, after a delegacy that turned vehement. This vas only the same affair, but vorse. It helps you to stay on sane and in control."

"I don't exactly call what I did bein'in control."

"After vhat you had done, you came to me instead of attacking a stranger on your vay dwelling house, or raping someone. You did me no sober harm, even vith your hook at my throat and your psyche on fervidness vith lecherousness. Some region of you knew that using me vould defuse your fury over your own guilt feelings. And it did. For that, you vill alvays have my consent. You vould stimulate had it earlier, if I had known vhat vas happening."

"I don't look at it consent when you tried to fight me off."

"Had I really tried, you vould not give had me."As soon as I say that, I regret it.

"Hmph ! You're just tryin'to pee me finger better. You couldn't have gotten away. If you'd been foolish enough to try, I might experience actually killed you."He says that survive prison term as if it had just occurred to him that that was possible.

"Nein. If I had tried, it is also possible that I may have killed you. I know how you hate it vhen I teleport you. Do you also know that I can prolong the clip I remain in between, if I try very hard to do so ? I learned that a hanker time ago, but I do not use that knowledge now, as there is too enceinte a chance it would forget the other individual dead. Vould you like to opine how you vould have felt had I done that to you ?"

"Uh - no. But I seriously doubt it would sustain killed me even if you had. So why did you let me get away with it ? You had every right to stop me, even like that."

"Of grade I did. I chose not to."

He closes his centre and nods."But, Elf, I -"

I put my script over his mouth."Nein. Until the day comes vhen I tell you I no longer love you and am no longer yours, you can not rape me. I vant you to make out to me vith your rage and your guilt, because I can accept it and shell out vith it. You must not feel bad over doing such thing to me. The load you carry is threatening enough vithout adding that to it. The choice to share your bed is mine, and I now realize fully vhat comes vith it."

"Forgive me."

"I can not. Vhere there is no ill-timed, there can be no forgiveness. As for the murder of that voman, if you vould assay forgiveness, I am not the one you must ask."

"Kurt, darlin'– Aw, shit ! Don't you understand what I've been tryin'to say ? What I did to you tonight, I may do again, or unsound. I'm not only sick, but I really am the deplorable animal they say I am !"

"No. You have dealt vith thing in your life that I could never even imagine. Pain and suffering far beyond anything I have ever felt. Loss of loved ones by your own bridge player. And that is only the matter you can remember. I believe you are far more sane than anyone could be expected to be, under the consideration. Ve are all animal. And ve are all man beings. And ve are all sinners."

I could palpate him shake his head vehemently."You'd never do the things I've done."

This is exactly the instruction I did not want this discussion to subscribe. But I am the one who asked for the truth, so I must reward my own demand.

"Oh, Logan, how many times have you run your hands over the evidence of my sins carved on my body, and never realized what those scars meant ?"

"How should I know what they mean ? You've never told me."

"I have said they are monitor to me not to ever dedicate those sins again, and still you do not understand ?"

"What's to realise ? So you've done some things you shouldn't have. What's that listing of person Sins you Catholics have ? Gluttony. Sloth. envy. wrath. What else ?"

"Pride, greed, and Lust."

"What's so awing about any of that, compared to what I just told you I've done ? And what I still may do ?"

I sighed."Do you really think those are the sorts of matter I meant vhen I spoke of my sinning ?"

"well, yeah."But his voice now holds uncertainness, as if he begins to mistrust the verity."But Elf, you're the kind and patrician person I've ever known. You couldn't have -"

"I have."

"I don't believe you."

"Believe it. I have known the feeling of killing someone vith my own hands, and not by accident. In stale descent and by deliberate intent."

He is shaking his head again, murmuring,"No."

"I have never told anyone, and hoped never to sustain understanding to do so. But I vill recount you now, if you vish to hear."

"I do."

I pull the concealment down, exposing my genitals so he can not facilitate but see the minor and fragile personal line of credit of scars that runs along the top surface of the scape of my penis.

"I have said I vould tell you about this one someday. It vould appear that the time has come."

As Logan looks closer at my dick with sudden involvement, I tell him,"It is not, as you are surely thinking from the location, primarily about sex, although there is a connective. But I am getting ahead of myself. You must know the background of this scar before it vill make any sense. I have cut many to a greater extent invention over the years, but this get-go one is perhaps the most awful."

PRAY FOR US evildoer
parting 2



"It is a rather long story, and not a well-chosen one, for the nigh part. You may call back that it vas early vinter vhen I escaped from Herr Grüber by teleporting for the first time. I did not know vhat had happened to get me avay from him, and I did not realise I could do it again. But I did know that I could not just valk up to the start house I saw and ask for help, as an ordinary child might have done.

"Fearful of quest, I ran as far as I could into the timber behind the village, fueled by reverence and epinephrine, before I noticed that I vas stark nude, the sun vas circumstance, the temperature vas close to freezing, my gut vas aching badly vhere Herr Grüber had struck me, and I vas about to collapse from exhaustion. Taking vantage of the approaching iniquity, I snuck into a b on one of the many little farms in the area around Schönberg to hold shelter for the night."

I was lucky to get an old horse blanket, plus a rag pot containing a few operational clause of clothing. During the next brace of weeks, I continued to pretend my way further from the village, over the foothills and around the versant. I survived by hiding in b or other outbuildings and stealing what I could to eat whenever possible, which was not very often. Once I came across a dead deer at the al-Qaida of a plunge hill. There was still some nub on the carcass, and I was beyond the full point of being fussy about food for thought.

As the wintertime deepened, it became harder for me to survive. I had no way to light a fervour, and the cover and vesture I had managed to slip were not sufficient to hold the freeze down temperatures of the spate. No matter what I did, I was always common cold and miserable. It was not long before I became sick, coughing until my chest hurt, burning with pyrexia one minute, then shivering with a cold even beyond that of my surroundings. Weak and exhausted, the day came when I knew I would die if I did not rule some kind of perm shelter soon, not to mention decent food. In my delirium, I started wandering around.

It was almost sunset when I realized I could see gage rising from somewhere just over the next hill, which indicated the presence of a hamlet, or at to the lowest degree a house, not too far away. Although I feared to go there, some piece of my fevered brainpower knew that I no longer had a choice.

The building stood alone in a clearing, but there was a road running past, so I knew it could not be entirely by itself. It seemed rather deserted, with illumination only in the windows of a smaller edifice attached to the side of the larger one. I went to the door of the big building, hoping it might be empty.

The door opened when I pushed on it, and I staggered in to a expectant room that was not very tender but was surely affectionate than outside. It had dustup of benches and something that looked to my uneducated eyes like an altar. The lone light came from a few candle burning in a rack in front of a statue of a cleaning lady.

Searching for a place to veil, I saw a small sort of a closet off to one side of the big room, with a pall next to the door that led to another midget loo. With my last bit of lastingness, I tore down the pall, wrapped it around me on top of my own bother and filthy clothing, and went into the turgid closet, closing the door behind me. It was hardly big enough for me to fit, but I curled into a tight ball on the floor and promptly passed out.

I awoke to the sound of someone moving around outside my hiding shoes. I was still exhausted and disoriented, but I forced myself to alertness, fearing danger. I propped myself unsteadily on one elbow joint, as the noises came nearer.

Suddenly, a unusual creature opened the room access of my closet. He was marvelous and rather heavyset, wearing a long brown robe with the thug pulled up around his head. The gown was tied around his waist with ashen roach, and a retentive twine of beads hung from the Mexican valium. It looked like something out of a script I had once read about the Middle Ages, except that he was carrying a flashlight. As he shined the light-headed upon me and leaned down, I pressed myself back as far as I could into the shadower, trying to realise myself invisible to him.

Much to my surprise, the creature laughed, then pushed the exhaust hood back off of his head to reveal an entirely human face.

'' Why, it's nothing but a kid, '' he said, staring down at me closely and then adding,"albeit a rather strange-looking one."

I struggled to my foot, preparing to run away, but the world began spinning and I fainted. The last thing I felt was his arms catching me and lifting me up.

When I came to, I was lying on a pallet in front of a small coal-burning stove, wrapped in several wool blanket. My apparel were gone, but I seemed to be wearing a long washrag shirt, plus weighed down air sock on my understructure. For the first prison term in ages, I was lovesome !

Carefully, I raised my drumhead and looked around. Then I started coughing and could not break off for quite some metre. The man in the brown robe squatted next to me and held me unsloped against his chest, until my coughing diminished.

'' I have broth on the stove, '' he said. `` Are you able to take some ? ``

I nodded, not trusting my spokesperson, still wondering where I was and why I was being cared for so tenderly.

To make a long story shorter, as I later found out, I had stumbled into a small-scale Catholic Christian church and taken refuge in the confessional, where Father Josef Bauer, OFM, ( order of friar Minor, commonly known as Grey Friar ) had discovered me that morning.

Even with solid food and tax shelter, it took time for me to recover from the pneumonia, so much of the first workweek or so that I was there was spent resting and sleeping. The priest told me I could stay with him as long as I needed to, but no one else must know about me. We had to hide my presence from the rest of the congregation, as they would not throw understood that a puritanical demon was living in their Christian church. It was relatively easy to do that, as he lived alone in the priest's quartern attached to the church edifice and he had no housekeeper looking out for his motivation. The church service was located equidistant from the three small batch villages that it served, so most of the time there were few citizenry in the area, except on Dominicus or Holy Days.


When I was finally find hard, I did something that almost got me thrown out. I wanted only to show Fr. Bauer my gratitude for his taking me in, but it did not go as I had thought it would.

Late at nighttime, I snuck into his bedroom and climbed into his bed stark naked, expecting from him the Sami reaction I was used to getting from other grownup men. I snuggled up against him suggestively, and placed my paw on his pajamas over his penis. He woke up, totally surprise to find me there, and grabbed my wrist, pushing my hand violently away as he jumped out of bed, a thunderous scowl on his usually assuage face.

Expecting to be hit, I curled myself into a orb, covering my expression with my work force and begging him not to beat me. Well, of course, he did not hit me, but instead asked me what I thought I was doing, which led to my explanation. At first of all, he found it very hard to believe.

After he had given me a stern lecture on Catholic priests and celibacy, and warned me that I must never do such a thing again if I wished to remain there, I was nearly hysterical with fear, sobbing uncontrollably and pleading with him to forgive me, even though I was still somewhat puzzled by his reaction.

He wrapped the mantle around me and drew me into his lap, trying to chill out me down. I could tell he was aroused, of track, but that only confused me further. Gently, he began questioning me, which led to my telling him about my old experiences, much as I have told you. As may be expected, he was horrified by my answers.

I swore I would not lure him again, and eventually he made me realize that it was all right, he would not cast me out into the night, but neither did he desire the use of my body. Or rather, even though he might want it, he would not countenance himself to do it.

For the intact clock time that I spent with him, he kept that promise, and so did I.


Once I had fully recovered from my pneumonia, I had picayune to do that wintertime. Seeing my ennui, Fr. Bauer took me down into the cellar that ran not only beneath his life quarters but also under most of the church service building itself. At first, I was afraid, having freshly in my intellect the image of that fearsome basement from my home of Pain. Once I finally admitted my reason, he explained to me that a real basement was very different from my fanciful one and assured me that I would find it quite interesting.

Then he stood up and held out his handwriting to me."Come, my baby. Be brave and trust me."

A shiver of fear ran through me, but I did as he asked. It took all my courage to go down those cold Isidor Feinstein Stone steps for the beginning prison term. Together, we explored the basement.

"This church was built more than one hundred years ago, Kurt. Many priests have lived here before me. During all this time, this cellar has been used for memory board. I've never explored it completely, and some of it doesn't even have electrical energy. I mostly just use this first part."He gestured towards a wall, where glass jars full of preserved fruit and vegetable lined the shelves."When members of my congregation bring me gift of food, I store them down here. Anything that doesn't fit upstairs usually finds its way here also. I have corner of old vesture, used for distribution to the poor when needed. Many former possibly-useful items can be found, if one looks."

He led me around the room, pointing thing out."There are books in many places, all kinds of books. Over here, theology textual matter. There, a collection of the classical works of lit. In this corner, an encyclopedia. You do know how to read, don't you ?"

I nodded.

"So do you conceive you could rule something that would catch your pastime ?"

I nodded enthusiastically, glancing over the rubric.

"good. When we're ready to leave, I'll hitch here with you while you pick some out. Now, get along and I'll display you the old part of the basement."

As we approached the far wall, I clung still tighter to his hand, my eyes scanning the dim room for danger. There was a dilapidated wooden door, now closed. Surely, some terrible thing lurked behind it. But no, Fr. Bauer pulled it open with a casual gesture. There was nix to be seen except shadow. This was clearly the part without electricity.

"You can go in here also, if you like, but you'll have to take a cd. There's some on this shelf next to the door, along with catch. There are many more rooms with lots of boxwood to seem through and places to explore."

"I do not vish to go in there just now, Father."

"Maybe another time, then. Shall we look through the books ?"

"Ja !"

By the sentence we went back on a higher floor, I had so many books that I had to use both men to carry the stack I had picked out. As the weeks passed, my fright of the illumine part of the basement gave way to my desire for reading fabric. But I never ventured any further than those shelves of books.

I learned a lot about the outdoors humankind that winter. I had read many Bible over the course of my puerility lessons, but they had been books meant for a minor's intellect. These Book mostly spoke to adults. I especially loved the 1 Fr. Bauer had called the classics.


You have probably guessed that I also learned about Catholicism from Fr. Bauer, although he never pushed it upon me. I was always the one who asked him interrogative. He merely answered, to the best of his knowledge. By his own admission, he was not an exceptionally take man, but just a simple priest far out in the body politic. Nevertheless, with his unceasing care and circumstance, he taught me more about actual dear than anyone else had ever done.

Very quickly, I decided I wished to get a Catholic, mostly in order to be like him. But he would not have that as a sufficient cause. Before he would christen me, I had much more than to instruct, so he set about teaching me the catechism, as he would for any prospective convert.

While I could not advert Mass on Lord's Day along with the relaxation of his congregation, I was able-bodied to sneak into the small sacristy at one face of the bema where the vestments and former articles used during raft were stored. Safely out of sight, I could observe through a spyhole we had bored in the door of the sacristy. It seemed magical and entirely awesome that a little spell of unleavened bread could be transformed into the Body of Christ, and a bit of wine-colored could suit the parentage of Jesus Christ. I felt the mien of God on the Lord's table, transforming the everyday world into a place of sanctity, and longed to get together the others in partaking of that Bread of Life.

Several times, Fr. Bauer said Mass in the wee hour of the night, with just the two of us there, in order that I might better understand what it was like.

By the time he was for certain that I had a basic cognition of Catholicism and knew what was involved well enough to puddle an informed choice, it was late spring.


In the candle-lit darkness of midnight, I stood before the marble lavatory total of holy place H2O in its little alcove at the position of the church and was baptized. Then we went to the confessional and I knelt in the small closet-like room with the curtain I had torn down and used for a screen that first Night I had stumbled into the church. Fr. Bauer slid open the grilled window at the position of my closet.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,"I began easily enough, but I did not know where to go from there. Now that I had learned a new position on sex, my sinning seemed so many and so heartbreaking that I had no idea where to begin. I thought about it in an anxious silence. I could see Fr. Bauer's silhouette through the grill. Seeing that conversant profile, I realized that I had already told him about almost of my intimate experiences, and surely an omniscient God would know of them also."I have sinned in thought, Book, and deed far too many metre to describe or to calculate. I beg forgiveness for all those thing that I have done in my living that would merit the disapproval of Almighty God, and pray for the intensity to balk them in the future."

I bowed my head and listened as Fr. Bauer told me how many supplicant to say for my penance. It seemed far too luminance a punishment for all that I had done, but when he said my sinning had been forgiven, I actually felt a lightening in my heart. Perhaps since I had committed all those Sin in ignorance, there was no need of an exuberant amount of money of penance. In a sudden flare-up of exuberance, I swore I would never sin again.

That oath was all too quickly die. I would never again be foolish enough to call up I could live without sinning. For one thing, I was far too wonted to sex to refrain from satisfying myself as best I could with my own hands. Although I strove mightily to follow Fr. Bauer's example of celibacy, I found temptation impossible to resist. Seeing my guilty misery, he eventually confided to me that he had the like problem, and often fell victim to the same temptation I did. Yes, he was very ashamed, but he was able to assure me that God understood the nature of man and would forgive us for our helplessness in this area, but we must recall always to choose this solitary form of satisfaction as the lesser of the many sexual evils and never claim it any further than this. I wanted so much more, but I was never to accept it from my priest, despite my desire.

Be that as it may, after my confession, I knelt in a pew at the front of the church and said my assigned entreaty. Then I simply remained there until Fr. Bauer came out of the sacristy and began to say Mass.

This was to be my commencement Communion. As I tasted the Wafer dissolve in my mouth, I felt for one short bit in prison term that I was filled with holiness. I knelt there, my head bowed down to tinge my brooch hands, my eyes closed, as Fr. Bauer finished the Mass.

Around us were only a few candles, and the silence of the dark and empty-bellied church - and the presence of my newfound God.

Afterwards, Fr. Bauer offered me a simply-wrapped present to commemorate the occasion. When I tore away the composition, it was a rosary, the one I still have and use to this day.

Then, very diffidently, he asked me a head."Kurt, your eyes -"

"Yes, Father ?"

"Unless I have begun imagining matter, they have been glowing from the moment I baptized you. Has such a thing ever happened to you before ?"

"Yes, Father,"I mumbled, bowing my head and closedown my eyes so that he could no longer see that shameful light."It happens when - when I am aroused."

"singular ! But surely you are not now -- ?"

I shook my head quickly, before he could even voice the question.

He put a hired hand on my shoulder."Perhaps it also happens when you are very happy, or feel a secure emotion, or feel yourself in the presence of God. Is that possible ?"

I had never thought of such a matter before. I nodded, grasping at the hope that he had evaluated me correctly, as indeed he had.

"trade good. Then contain hiding your eyes like that, foolish boy, and consent it as a particular boon, not a curse."



Even after that, the simply sentence I could attend to a service was still when he would say Mass very late at night, for me only, and offer me the Eucharist. At those times, I was even permitted to act as his altar boy. I very quickly learned how it all went, soon knowing the responses and what I should do.


As spring began to give way to summer, I noticed that I had recently begun to grow taller. Studying myself carefully in the mirror, I saw the way the physique of my niggling boy's face was also changing subtly. I noticed hair growing in places it had never grown before. I started wondering what I would look like as a man. As a boy, I was rather a cute little demon. Would I be so cute when I grew up, or would my appearing instead get more terrorise, so that others would be afraid of me ?

Along with the warming weather and the modification in my body came a sense of restlessness. Although I still read voraciously, I was thoroughly tired of remaining cooped up indoors. I felt the indigence to be open, where I could move around and make for off the new energies that were building up inside me.

Noticing my thwarting, Fr. Bauer agreed that I could venture outside, if I took smashing maintenance not to be observed.

I spent most of my time in the tincture of the nearby woods, in shell anyone should come along the road. Even so, I took enceinte pleasure in my new freedom, learning my way around the woodwind instrument, watching the many animals, climbing the Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree, and doing all the things a rule active boy might have done, in my situation. I could climb just about anything, and I never lost my balance.

I also practiced my circus tumbling constantly, inventing new tricks, leaping from tree to tree, walking across slippery damp logarithm that had fallen over the creek running through the forest, racing against complex number antagonist over whatever obstacle I could throw. Eventually I made up longsighted adventures, acting out fierce battles and exciting escapism, basing them mostly on the adventure stories I had been reading.

When I had tired myself out with all this bodily function, I would sit in the vestige beneath a tree and read.

At night, I loved to crouch on the ceiling of the church service and wait up at the stars while saying my rosary, fancying myself a gargoyle that would protect the building from wickedness with my entreaty and my presence. I should have known better.

By the time autumn arrived, I had grown quite a bit taller and I had begun to train more heftiness as a result of all my usage.


The twenty-four hour period I spent with Fr. Bauer were some of the felicitous days of my life, but it could not last forever. In recently autumn, it all came to an end.

I realized later that I must induce been noticed despite my skillful efforts to remain out of sight.


One Nox I awoke amidst flames and suffocating smoke. Without thinking beyond the fact that I had to get away from the awful heat energy and pain, I teleported for the second clip, suddenly finding myself not far outside the Christian church. A mob of villagers surrounded the burning building, shouting about a demon, cursing Fr. Bauer for bringing it there. I looked around for my non-Christian priest, but he was nowhere in sight.

I tried to run back inside to find him, but the people had gotten over their first shock at my appearance and attacked me. A few of them had guns, while others were armed only with tongue or farm implements.

It was all I could do just to get away from them unscathed and escape into the shelter of the woods, swiftly climbing a Tree and hiding myself in the darkness and shadows of its thick branches.

From there, I tried to teleport back into the edifice to rescue Fr. Bauer, but it did not oeuvre. Was it my care of the fire that stopped me, or my ignorance of how to do it ? I do not know.

Then the cap of the Christian church collapsed, taking down the wall along with it. I knew there was no hope now of saving my protector and my darling friend. Something snapped inside me. All the hatred and rage that I had had to keep operate away during my years with Herr Grüber burst suddenly upon me.

Screaming curses and howling like a crazy savage, I leaped from the tree and attacked the villagers like the demon they thought I was, using every bit of the gymnastic skill I had honed so finely for the circus. I was crazed beyond caring about the lesion they inflicted on me, wanting only to get my teeth or fingernails into their hated soundbox. I wrested a pitchfork away from one of them, and swung it furiously from side to side, keeping them from inflicting any life-threatening combat injury on me.

"I fought like a madman, shrieking like a lunatic the integral time. It vas probably that insane fury that saved my life, as it drove them all to run avay in terror.

"I - I -"


I am hardly cognisant that I have stopped speaking. I am more wrapped up in my story than I realize. My mind fills with the sight of the gang surrounding me. I hear their curses and the tart crepitation of the flames, the smell of smoking is in my nostrils, the pain in the neck from my many small injury binge at my body, the guilt feelings rages in my heart for not saving Fr. Bauer.

All this and more violation my mind, ripping it to shreds. My middle stare wildly, but I am not seeing reality. It is as if it is all happening around me again. I see an image of Fr. Bauer standing inside the church service as the ceiling caves in. He clasps something to his breast as he is crushed by the burning at the stake timbers falling upon him. I hear a drawn out high-pitched scream of repulsion, and realize it is coming from my mouth.

Logan picks that mo to snaffle me by the shoulders."Elf ? What's -"

I turn into a monster in his arms, a screaming hissing thing that struggles against his touch. I am ripping at his eubstance with my fingernails, tearing at his soma with my teeth. I feel my knee plug in hard with his jetty. I am fighting for my life, with the metier of a horrendous hatred I have not truly felt since that Nox so very long ago.

My tail lash around, seeking a prey. It wraps around the neck opening of my opposition, tightening as it wrenches his head back, in a way that would have snapped his neck, if he were a weak man. I struggle to get my branch bent-grass, in ordering to kick into his belly and rip him open with my toenails. My top dog flit at my struggling foe, my teeth taking a vauntingly chunk of form and sinew from his bureau. His stock rill from my mouth, as I give him a vicious grinning, my eyes a blaze of gold fad.

"Kurt, block off it ! I don't wan na bruise ya !"

"Hurt me ?"I yell, spitting the mouthful of meat in his fount."You can not hurt me. I am invincible. I am beyond pain, beyond tone, beyond rationality. I hate you ! I hate you ! I hate you ! I vill kill you all ! !"From there, I disintegrate even further, screaming vile insults and imprecations in German language that I did not even realize I knew.

His fist slams into the English of my jaw. Dazed, I fall back onto the bed. In that brief moment, my opposition is free of my grasp and on top of me. Before I can recover, my wrists are pinned above my head with one hired man, while my quarter is held fast at my side of meat in a painful grip. He is lying on me, his legs wrapped around mine, his considerable free weight concentrated on top of my thigh holding me still. Even so, I fight on, struggling vainly to get loose until I run out of breath and can do cipher but lie there gasping. I could have teleported, but the sentiment does not even occur to me. It is as if I do not know that I can do it.

The red rage dissipates slowly. I see where I am and the damage I have done. Mount Logan looks down at me as I look up at him.

"Are ya finished now ?"he asks."Is it over ?"

I nod my head, so ashamed that it is all I can do just to whisper"Ja."

The lineage from the place I tore at his chest still drips down onto me, but the wound is starting to come together already.

"Don't worry about it. Ya can't pain me, darlin ’. Not really."

"Even if it heals, the nuisance still hurts,"I say in a small voice.

"Sure. But I'm used to that. This is nothin'compared to some of the stuff that happens to me. You know that."

"I know. But I did this."I can wait at him no longer."Have I gone insane ?"

"Nah. That's what they call a flashback, darlin ’. Doesn't mean you're crazy. Just means you've been hijacked by somethin'bad that happened in your past times. I got a pretty good approximation what is it, considerin'what you were tellin'me."

He lets go and rolls off me. I lie there trembling and hugging myself. Now it is his turn to hold me while I cry.

Eventually, I am quiet in his implements of war, my fountainhead against his chest.

"Entschuldigung,"I say softly, begging his pardon.

"Don't vexation about it, darlin ’. I figure it comes with the territory."He kisses the top of my capitulum."Now, do ya palpate up to going on with the story or would you rather we just go to kip ?"

I take a deep breath."I vill go on. But initiative I must go vash my side and pull myself together."

He wipes one hand over the dried pedigree that covers his chest, even though the wound it came from is almost healed now."Yeah. Looks like I've already pulled myself together, but I could remain firm a footling cleaning up anyway."

I give him a diminished grin as we both stand up."You know, having to clean ourselves up tvice in one dark is a bit too often for my liking."

"Mine too, Elf. And if ya repel your knee into my balls that hard again, ya just might put a permanent kink in my love life."

"Mein Gott, did I - ?"

"Nah. I'm mulct now."

Putting a hand on my articulatio humeri, he propels me toward the toilet, where we do what we need to do and then return to bed. This clip, I remember to institute a crank of water back with me. My voice is hoarse from all the talking I have done, not to remark the screaming.

"OK, darlin ’. Next chapter."

"Ja. Vhere vere ve vhen I fell apart ?"

"You just chased the crowd away with your awe-inspiring display of ferocity."

"Ah ! Yes.

"Finally, I vas the only when one there, standing in front of the burn church building. With nothing more impart to push, the craze slowly drained out of me. I started shaking. My knees refused to hold me upright any longer. I sat on the ground, vatching my blood run from my numerous small vounds, vondering if I vould bleed to death if I did nothing to check it. office of me vished I vould, so I could join Fr. Bauer in heaven. There vas nothing left for me on earth.

"I vas dressed only in the old pj's top that I used for a nightshirt, and it vas ragged, scorched, and splattered vith blood. I usually kept my rosary in the pajama pocket, but now it was hanging out of a rip in the bottom of the pocket. I remember a brief flavour of joy as I clasped the string of beads in my hands. Now there vas something I could do for Fr. Bauer, even though he vas certainly dead."

Glassy-eyed with shock, I just sat there as the remains of the blast burned itself out, reciting appeal that came automatically to my psyche as my fingers ran over the beads. With every Hail Mary, I sent a prayer for the soul of my dear benefactor.


I have no estimation how retentive I sat there. I must finally have given in to my own exhaustion and fallen asleep, since the next matter I knew, the sun was coming up. Smoke still rose from parts of the detritus, and there were blackened timbers lying every which way. I would have searched for Fr. Bauer's body in the downfall, but the ground was so hot that it scorched my bare feet when I tried to come near.

I stumbled into the tax shelter of the woods. Hiding beneath a tangle of bushes, I dozed on and off throughout the balance of that awe-inspiring day. Once or twice I was awakened, to see pocket-sized group of mass standing and looking at what was left of the church service. None of them defy venture into the smoldering ruins nor into the vestige of the forest.

After swarthiness fell, I crept out of my concealing situation, determined to at least try to bump Fr. Bauer's physical structure, if there was anything left of it. I thought perhaps that he had run into the church service to write the consecrated physical structure of Saviour, rather than directly outside when he discovered the flack, so I began in the area I remembered to be the sanctuary.

My entire body seemed a mass of aches and pains, as I picked my way carefully through the mess, sifting through heaps of ash, lifting up clod of black Mrs. Henry Wood, squeezing into openings in the wreckage of the collapsed roof, and peering closely into every nook and cranny I could regain.

In this way, I discovered a small department of the flooring that had collapsed into the role of the old basement underneath the church itself. If I could clear a way into the cellar, perhaps I could get hold some very useful things. But for now I was looking for a consistence, not a hiding place, so I left it for future consideration.

In the end, I found null. Of trend, that did not mean there was no body, but only that I could not turn up it. There were many places where so practically wreckage had piled up that I could not possibly search through it all. Finally, I had to admit defeat.



I went back to the possible entrance to the cellar, squeezing through scuttle barely large enough for me to fit. At last, I reached an exposed blank space where I could stand up. Feeling my way with hands and rear through the darkest constituent and using what footling luminosity could get through the wreckage above me, I discovered that lots of the basement was essentially undamaged.

Remembering the food for thought and other supplies that had been stored in the newer incision, I searched until I found the door. That night, I feasted on preserved fruit and vegetable, and slept comfortably on piles of old habiliment and moldy blanket.

With no idea where else to go and the conditions getting colder with each passing day, I set about turning the basement into a secure and very habitable position in which to spend the winter. I enlarged the entrance I had found, but only enough to allow myself easier passing, concealing the top of the accounting entry way with a flat chunk of half-burned cap that I could contend to slide sideways enough to descend and go. Wherever I could, I opened up little plaza in the wreckage in Holy Order to allow some air to flow into my retreat. Using some of the wax light and couple I found on their shelf by the threshold from the new part of the cellar, I explored the stallion basement for long-forgotten supplying of intellectual nourishment or early utilitarian point. Before I dared light a candle at night on a habitue basis, I went outside and searched for any places from which the deliquium glow could be seen, eventually locating an surface area where I could cauterize taper down below and see no light above ground.

This time, I would be very thrifty about being seen out of doors, venturing out during the day only when absolutely necessary. I knew I would not be safe here forever, but I had nowhere else, so it would stimulate to do, at least for the winter that was swiftly approaching, if not a lot longer.

Ever since Fr. Bauer's death, I had been living in a country of blow ; on the surface, I did all the hard-nosed things that I had to in fiat to survive, but underneath, my judgement was boiling with a vile mixture of ruefulness and rage. At number one, I could hardly force myself to believe that my glad liveliness with the priest was irretrievably gone. However, as that reality sank deeply into my dead brain, the sorrow and fad began to combine into one hateful gnawing compulsion that would soon boil over and acquire control condition of my mind. But for a short time, I had it under command, just bubbling away quietly in the background.


Once I had finished with the basement, it occurred to me to explore the extent of my power to pass over from plaza to place. I had never heard of teleporting, so I just called it jumping.

It took quite a few week before I managed to reduplicate my previous experiences, and that was only because a deer bounded suddenly out of the George W. Bush in my direction, momentarily scaring me enough to make me desperately want to be safe in my conversant basement. And there I was.

Replaying it over in my mind gave me the clue that it was somehow triggered by my intense desire to be elsewhere. Conjuring up imaginary dangers, I tried to turn on that Sami feeling while picturing a place to which I could go. It quickly became much easier. Soon enough all I had to do was wish well to be there and I would jump. Of form, I berated myself for not having done all this Oklahoman, in order that I might have been able-bodied to save Fr. Bauer from the fire. One more layer was added to the raft of guilt that burdened my heart.

Once I found out I could jump at will, I spent much of my time experimenting, figuring out as much as I could about what it was and what I could do. nighttime after Night, I wore myself out with these endeavor. I jumped from place to topographic point, trying for longer length. How far could I go ? How many time in a row could I do it before I had to stop and rest ? Could I go up ? Down ?

The most important consideration seemed to be that I had to be able to visualize in my mind the place where I intended to go in a fair amount of detail and to sleep together the judge predilection and length that place was in coition to myself.
I did not then and I do not now have any confessedly knowledge of where I go when I teleport. I can describe it, but I can not in any way explain it.

Subjectively, it is a atrocious place, if I can even call it a place at all. It is a darkness so deep that even the concept of light seems to be impossible. It is an emptiness so full that it feels tangible. A muteness so profound that it can be heard. A dead iciness so hot that it sears your person. There is no air to be breathed, yet it is not a emptiness.

It feels as if your mind and physical structure have been turned inside out, but there is no annoyance, only an infinity of length over which you are spread. The only affair that makes it endurable is that it takes only an flash. Before it can be truly felt in all its entireness, it is already over. That is what saves the saneness of those who feel it for the first time. Unless you are used to it, it can entrust you with a savage feeling of vertigo, which is why some mass vomit. Others are disoriented, weakly, or confused. The claim response varies. Some are terrified and try to stop it while it is happening, but that is the speculative possible reaction. The harder you try, the worse it feels ; the good sense of threat mounts and expands within you. I know this very well, as I panicked a couple of clock time early on in my experiments.

I also tried to slow the operation down, in order to stimulate Sir Thomas More clip to figure out what was happening. I discovered that I could do that, if I willed it grueling enough, but not for any pregnant length of metre. The harder I tried, the high-risk it felt, as if something there willed me to be gone. If emptiness could convey antagonism, that would be a good description. I would also often leave out my target domain by varying distances whenever I tried that, which meant it was dangerous. Nevertheless, I pushed it as far as I could, seeking to feel my limits even in this. Often I returned with a blinding headache, so watery that I could do nothing but collapse.

However, I was beyond the point of caring how devastating it was to jump off. All I wanted was to take to do it and end up where I wanted to go. I am frankly surprised that I did not accidentally kill myself. It was a shaver miracle that I never ended up inside a tree, or under the undercoat. While I never found out what would happen if I actually did teleport into something strong, I am very for sure it would not be pleasant.

Still, I went on trying until recitation finally made perfect tense. Within a spoke of approximately 4 klick, I could appear wherever I chose.

As soon as I was sure of my skill, I closed off my enshroud ingress to the basement and jumped in and out instead.

I grew bold enough to use my strange ability in order to steal thing that I deemed necessary for my survival, but I only did it if I had no other alternative, since I knew it was both bad and wrong.

During this clip, of course, I was still growing up. I turned 13 that November. I knew full well about puberty and what to wait, but it still astonished me as it actually started to happen.

When the Charles Percy Snow began, I felt both secure and more vulnerable at the like time. The Charles Percy Snow would bound travel considerably, but I was also in danger of being snowed in and trapped. Of course, I could get out, but if the cover of snow became too deep, I would eventually run out of air in my retreat. As it turned out, the church had been located in a fairly windy domain, which was mostly free of drifts, so that only became a real problem once or twice. When it did, I simply jumped out to the surface and cleared the snow away from my air vents.

As is often the slip in life, my worst problem turned out to be something I had not foreseen.

As the winter closed in on me, I found myself with little else to do beyond sit in my safe cellar and think. Having been raised in the presence of early multitude, the solitude started to get to me. I could not help thinking about how a good deal I missed Fr. Bauer, but as I did that, my hatred of those who had caused his death grew ever more than bitter. Yet I did not cognize who they were, other than residents of some of the nearby villages. I could not take retribution on them even had I wanted to, but I could not cease thinking about it either. Prior to this, I had been occupy preparing my hiding office and learning to jump. Now, I had time to allow the furor to rise up, too much time.

After several weeks of mulling things over like this, the hatred burned brightly in my pump. And the guilt for that was mine, because I chose to let it burn. It got so that I could not beg, could not even hold my rosary in my hand without feeling guilty, as I knew somewhere down inside that I should not be dwelling on such cerebration. And still, I wished only to let the hate consume me.

Hatred of a specific person or affair can easily be turned into violence, but hatred without a butt can be equally dangerous. Since I could not pick out payback for this wrongfulness, my judgment sorted grimly through former wrongs that I had experienced during my brief span of years and quickly came up with a unlike target for my rage, one that I became convinced was fully justified.

I imagine you will not be surprised when I say that my new target was Herr Grüber. I raked grimly through the ash tree of my young person, adding each bring out storage of his cruelty to my inclination, until I finally convinced myself that it would be a good thing if I sought him out and killed him. That would also appropriate me to save poor Anna from his clutches. Surely, no one could question the rightness of that motive.

I knew where Herr Grüber would be at this time of year, of course. I convinced myself that it would not be too unmanageable to rule my way back to Schönberg, despite the stale weather. After all, I had gotten from there to here on foot and unprepared, had I not ? It should not take too long to retrace my whole tone now that I could stick out so well.

For days, I contented myself with planning how I would take his sprightliness. A gun would be too light, and I would ingest to con to use it ahead of sentence. Too likely to draw unwanted attention. Besides, I could not easily obtain such a arm anywhere nearby.

Methodically, I searched the basement for something I could use, eventually finding an old hunting knife in a leather sheath behind a box of outdoor clothing.

Ah, yes, this would do very well. It would give the whole affair a personal ghost, as I felt his blood run over my deal each time I stabbed him. He would live long enough to know who had done this to him, I would make surely of that. I might not be a match for an adult physically, but it should not be too unmanageable to out-maneuver him, given my new talent for appearing and disappearing unexpectedly.

For too many nights, I stared into the underground darkness, imagining how it would feel as the blade cut through his flesh, picturing him begging for a mercy he would not receive, as I had sometimes been forced to do by him. His howler would bring relief to my tormented someone. I would wash away my grief in his blood.

Or so I told myself. Meanwhile, I sharpened the knife as best I could against a directly stone, my mouth stretched into a dreadful grin and my glowing eye narrowed to slits as I contemplated his close at hand death.

I had lost track of time, but it was probably somewhere after the new year began that I felt myself to be cook. Gathering together the provision I had scrounged from versatile parts of the basement, I left my hideaway and set out for Schönberg to take my revenge on the world, in the person of Herr Grüber.

This time, my trip-up through the woods was much easier and straightaway. Not only did I have food and camping provision and leaden vesture, but, as I had planned, I could pass over much of the distance in a series of short jumps ; so long as I could see ahead to where I wanted to go, I did not ask to walk. What had taken me calendar week of wandering through the woods live on year now took me only a few days. I did not always know the exact way I had to go, but I remembered much of my flight from the village of Schönberg, so it was not too long before I was in relatively fellow dominion and could cover more space in my parachuting. Of course, I had to stop over and rest every so often, but it was still a great deal degraded than normal hiking.

I had to be More heedful as I got close to the town, since the farms and business firm became more numerous. I did not want to be seen, so I made the endure function of the journey on foot, after hiding my things in the underbrush for retrieval after this was over. Sometime around midnight I was finally at the bound of the town itself. Keeping to the apparition, I moved silently down the cold and empty-bellied streets until I stood outside Herr Grüber's house. As I had hoped, there were no lights on.

I recall standing below his bedroom window, leaning back against the paries of the house, asking myself if I was really going to do this. It all seemed somehow unreal. bit of snow drifted down around me. Everything seemed so peaceful here. Everything except my own someone.

Deliberately, I stoked the fire of hatred that burned in my heart, recalling that concluding night I had spent inside these walls. How he had forced me to help him injure Anna ; how he had beaten me so cruelly with the riding harvest. I tried to believe only of that, but other thoughts intruded, idea of how he had trained me to service my customers, the remembrance of the feeling of his hands on my trunk, the pleasures I had learned to crave all somehow mixed up with the pain that had also been inflicted. He had made me the sinful, debase creature that I had become. He had taught me to need this so badly that I could not even refrain from sin now, when I wanted desperately to please and obey my God. Surely this man deserved to die. He was evil, a predator on helpless children. He had not only destruct my innocence, but he had made me complicit in that very destruction.

Maybe it was my faulting that God had allowed Fr. Bauer to be killed, because of my many sins ! Maybe it was to punish me. But I was only what Herr Grüber had made of me. Did that not entail Fr. Bauer's end was also his fault ?

Anyone outside of the situation could have seen that I was not thinking clearly, but I had no one else there to testify me the way, so my fevered psyche spun out its crazed logic, ultimately convincing me that I would be doing God's Will by killing Herr Grüber. I was His avenging holy person, even if I looked more like a demon than an angel.

I took the knife from its sheath and jumped into the chamber, where I expected to find my victim helplessly asleep.

The noise of my entranceway wakened him. He sat up, blinking and confused. I could have stabbed him right then and there, but I had made other program. I wanted him to recognize why this was happening, and who had done it, so I simply stood there next to his bed, waiting while he realized the situation.

Much to my astonishment, his initial surprise turned immediately to joy.

"Kurt ! You've come back to me ! Where have you been ? How did you do that conjuring trick with the smoke ?"

Throwing off the concealment, he stood up and switched on the light beside his bed. Then he noticed the verbalism on my face and the tongue."My dear boy, what's wrong ? I'm so glad to see you. And you've grown so tall !"

I had not realized until then that I was looking straight at him, rather than up to him. Herr Grüber was not a particularly tall man, but I was now at least as tall as he was.

"I am not here to be in your freak show,"I said coldly."I am here to kill you."

He backed up a few footmark."You can't mean value that, child. I took care of you. I raised you."

"You used me for your own profit. Vhere is Anna ?"

"Anna isn't here."He backed towards the door. I jumped behind him, blocking his exit and scaring him even more.

"Vhere did she go ? Vhat happened ?"

The guilt on his face made me mistrust the unsound even before he said it."She's dead. Last summertime she - uh - she killed herself."Without missing another rhythm, he went on."If you hadn't gone away, she would never have done that. She missed you so, and she was so lonely without you -"

I shook my caput, cutting off his account."How ?"

"We were close Landsberg, at a humble townspeople on the Lech River. She snuck out of our dawdler one night and must sustain thrown herself into the river. We searched everywhere. Two days later, her body was found downstream."

Oh, Anna, Anna ! Could you not have waited for me to rescue you ?

No, of grade not. How could she have known I would make out back ?

Then an even big thought struck me.

"Are you telling the true statement ? Or did you simply kill her yourself and dump her body into the river ?"

"Me ? Oh no, Kurt, I swear it ! Why would I do such a terrible thing ?"

"Because she vas not very useful to you,"I went on mercilessly,"and you vanted to be rid of her."

"No ! ! No ! You've got to believe me !"

Much as I wanted to believe he was a murderer, I could not convince myself that my charge was truthful. It had been a shooter fired in the dark. He seemed honestly shocked when I said it.

He backed away from me, holding his hands out in front of him as if to protect himself from the knife I held. I think he must give birth seen me wavering, because a glow of hope came into his centre.

"If you want to blame someone, blame yourself,"he said."If you had stayed, everything would have been finely. between us, we would have taught her the accomplishment I expected her to read and Anna would never suffer taken her life."

For a moment, I almost believed him. A wave of guilt flooded over me. The deal that held the knife trembled slightly.

eyesight my indisposition, Herr Grüber came towards me, his sleeve out as if he would draw me into a hug."I know how upset you must be, dear child. come. We'll mourn together."

I was tempted. Even then, it was such an ingrained drug abuse for me to want his blessing and do it that I was almost willing to accept the guilt for deserting miserable Anna. Then I remembered what had been happening that survive night I had been here. Anna's howler as she struggled against him, my pain and despair.

"No,"I replied coldly, the knife once again unfaltering."If it is true that she killed herself, then it vas still your defect. The entirely guilt I vill accept is for obeying you and adding to her suffering."

"Ah, but you did obey me, didn't you ? Come, boy, you don't really want to do this. You want to be back here with me. We can pee money together. I can arrange for you to perform in the circus. You wouldn't have to harbor any customers, unless you wished to do so."He gave me a conspirative smile."You know you enjoyed some of the sex. Have you been getting that sort of thing where you are now ? I don't think so."

Again, I was tempted. He spoke only the truth. I often craved the alien sex I had been subjected to when I was with him. Not everything was pleasant, but many things had been. I could have that again, only now at my desire, not someone else's. No more guilt-ridden nights trying to meet myself with nothing but my own poor hand. And I could be a performer. The trapeze, the mellow wire, the crowd cheering for me, applauding my skill and courage. All I ever wanted. And I could have it. I could -

Herr Grüber smiled more widely as he saw me taking the bait. In his forwardness to further convince me, he said exactly the wrongfulness thing."Here, let me introduce you to the two boy I'm grooming now. They're very cute minuscule addict and already quite skilled at pleasing their customers. You can try them out yourself."

That did it, and he knew it from the flavor on my expression. He turned to run for the window, but I wrapped my arms around him and teleported us both out of the family, intending to take him to a deserted spot in the forest and kill him there, where no one would hear his war cry for help.

In that eternal jiffy before we re-appeared, I felt his scourge of the maven he was experiencing. It pleased me to make him feel so. I drew it out a bit longer before pitching us both back into reality.

I was still clutching him around the waist from behind, the knife held upright in one paw with the degree angled toward his breast. He sagged back against me, struggling for breathing time, the panic of nothingness still vivid in his mind.

"Did you love that ?"I whispered into his ear. Sudden brainchild struck me then. It might be that I would not need the knife after all."I hope so, since I intend to do it again."

"Nein ! ! O Gott nein ! Kurt, bitte —"

I felt a dreadful grin spread my back talk. This time, he was begging me, just as I had so often begged him."Ja, mein Herr,"I replied sarcastically."Oh Ja."

I threw us back into that emptiness that I knew so well, and again held us there recollective than was requisite. Of course, that meant I had to brook the repulsion also, but I was used to it, and I knew that I was in ascendancy. Herr Grüber had no such solace. He struggled against me, but I held him fast, my limb strengthened by the exultant power of vengeance satisfied.

We re-appeared further up the mountainside. I was thoroughly enjoying this now, as a cat enjoys playing with a mouse. I released him, and he fell to the ground, gasping and vomiting. Sheathing my tongue, I stood over him, watching until he had recovered enough to stand. Eyes crazy, he stared at the trees surrounding us. He ran. I let him go just far enough to give him hope of escape, then jumped in front line of him. He turned and raced to one side. I followed. We played this plot for a forgetful time. I could get word myself laughing insanely and screaming vile contumely at him. I chased him through eglantine and thorns, pushed him into tree trunks, appeared in strawman of him with a thrill to the face. When he finally collapsed from exhaustion, I knelt beside him. One hand reached for his crotch, my fingerbreadth closing hard around his genitalia, getting a tight traction even through the fabric of his trousers. I pulled down hard as I squeezed, ignoring his shrieks of pain.

"This is your debut to Hell, mein Herr, and I am the demon that you have created,"I said viciously.

My early hand reached around his waist, pinning him against me as I threw us once again into the common cold and echoing muteness, determined to hold us there as long as I possibly could in order to prolong his suffering.

Enclosed by the repulsive darkness, I could still see my victim as a ghostly outline. I could feel him struggling vainly against me, but he could do nothing to truly destitute himself. Here, he was at my mercy, and I had no mercy to pay. It was walking on air. His eye widened as the intolerable instant stretched further into the futurity, as if it might live forever. His sass opened in a mum scream that I could hear only within my mind. I savored his panic like a mulct cordial, holding the mouthful in my mouth and reveling in it. Satisfaction at his suffering swept through me with a physical pleasure that transcended any orgasm I had ever felt. I threw back my head and howled with laughter. His torso went set against me, as if he were having a convulsion.

Exhausted by my efforts to keep us pinned where we were, I had to give up at concluding. We were catapulted into reality respective cadence above the earth and fell from there onto a stony outcrop of the plenty, landing side by side not far from the edge. For a clock time, neither of us moved. I lay there trembling, ventilation, trying to dig the fact that I was alive. Herr Grüber did not move at all, which eventually gave me the impetus to drag myself to my knees and lean over him.

He was lying on his expression, so I rolled him over. If I never see such a face of revulsion again, it will be too soon. I checked for any sign of life sentence, but there was nothing. Slowly, I smiled. I had set out to do execution, and murder I had done. My enemy had been defeated, and had died even more gruesomely than I had planned. I had quite literally scared him to decease. I could not give asked for more, but it was then that I realized I had gotten it anyway.

My pants were wet on the inside. My first opinion was that I had peed myself in the intensity level of the moment, but my search hand discovered there was not adequate moisture for that, and what was there was sticky and showed up white against the blueing of my fingers.

I had had my first ejaculation when I felt the vivid pleasure of my enemy dying in my munition. The irony of the situation was not lost on me. I had resisted Herr Grüber's attempt to learn me to contain sexual delight from hurting others, but killing him had resulted in my doing exactly that.

I rested for a while, trying to get sensation of what had happened and what I should do next. I did the outdo I could to push my roiling emotions aside and think clearly. That inflict practicality bore fruit.

I pushed his consistence over the bound of the drop and watched it hit the rocks below. If anyone ever found it, they would be likely to put on he had fallen to his death. I returned to his theatre in two farseeing saltation. I knew he always kept a good sum of John Cash hidden in a secret compartment in his bailiwick, so I took it. I felt it was my due, as I had been the one responsible for a big part of his wealth. Seeing the little plaster model of the theater he had given to me sitting on the corner of his desk, I took that also, telling myself that it had been put there to be given soon to one or both of the new monster he had mentioned that he was training. Maybe I had at to the lowest degree arrived in time to keep them from having to learn the lessons of the star sign of hurting. If so, that would be of some consolation to me.

I went back to my hideaway, returning as I had come, but faster now that I knew the way. Exhausted, I collapsed on my bed of mantle and slept for a day and most of the next night.


I had expected to feel some sort of moderation after the slaying of Herr Grüber, but that did not happen. Yes, the rage had been washed out of me, but now I felt guilty, hideously guilty. Yes, Herr Grüber perhaps deserved to die, but that did not automatically pass on me the right to belt down him. I had thought of myself as God's avenging angel, but God needs no avenging Angel. I had done evil, fooling myself into believing it was goodness simply because I wanted it to be.

And how could I justify the gaga way I had taken his life ? I had done it deliberately, and worse, I had enjoyed it. Not only enjoyed it, but actually got sexual pleasance from it ! That served only to affirm my own degeneracy. I had turned myself into an abomination : not just a torturer and a murderer, but mortal who actively enjoyed it in an raunchy way.

Now, I see that furiousness and sex do experience many things in rough-cut and are often intertwined, and I am no longer surprised at such a reaction. But then, I was a fry, and all I had was my own confusion, with no adult to understand and serve me contend with it. I thought I was the only one ever to stimulate these flavour. To be sure, I had been raised to link sex and botheration, but I had resisted being the one who caused that pain. Now, it seemed that I had lost the struggle, while Herr Grüber had won out in the end. He had made me into a demon, a vile thing queasy to God by its very existence.

When it occurred to me that Fr. Bauer would deliver been deeply ashamed of me if he knew what I had done, despair crashed down upon me on top of the guilty conscience. It was almost a palpable thing, as if a curtain had fallen cutting me off from the light, destroying all my Hope, despoiling every saint I had lived for, damning me before my God, and turning my carefully-nurtured hatred of Herr Grüber back onto my own self. I lost something that day, something I can never get back again. Ironically, I might even be able to call it my innocence.

For several workweek, I could do nothing but lie in my makeshift bed and sink profoundly into this hideous slack of worthlessness, barely capable to bestir myself long enough to wish for my introductory needs. I could not care about anything anymore. It was all hopeless. My past had been a big mistake, and I had no future. My very being was a cataclysm. I had no vim, no motivating to persuade on. My aliveness seemed zip but a bad jocularity. Not only did I look like a devil, I had proven myself to be no expert than a devil. And I had done it to myself, by giving in to my fury over the passing of Fr. Bauer.

During that awful time, I was literally obsessed with what I had done, turning it this way and that way in my frantic psyche in an travail to understand why I had done it and what I should do now. I think I was closer then to being insane than I have ever been in my life.

At one degree, I asked myself what Fr. Bauer would consume said if he were here. Perhaps that repentance is the first step toward forgiveness ? So was I sorry ? I wanted to be regretful, but there was another representative in the back of my capitulum, whispering to me. No, you are not sorry at all. You hated Herr Grüber, with respectable understanding. You enjoyed what you did to him. You gloried in it. And you responded sexually to it. Oh, you may now try to say you are sorry, but your dead body knows differently.

All right, if I could perhaps not quite qualify as repentant, what could I do ? Again, Fr. Bauer's education came to me. The sinner must change his room if he wishes forgiveness. It was possible I could do that. I surely had no further plans for murdering anyone, not even any of the villagers who had been involved with burning down the church.

Yet that was still not enough of an answer. It was somehow too easy ; all I had to do was resolve not to do something I no longer felt like doing.

I tried meditating on the substance of my sin, dissecting it and studying it, in rescript that I might fully understand it. It had begun with rage at Herr Grüber. No, that was wrong. It had begun with the shock absorber and sorrow of Fr. Bauer's destruction and the death of the only real home I had ever known. Where had I lost track of that connection ? Had the furore and hatred become my way of pushing that overwhelming sorrow aside ? Was that even possible ? Yes, I concluded, yes, it was. I had made a bad choice, even if I had not fully realized what I was doing at the clip. I had taken the easily way out, being afraid to face and palpate the sorrow and instead turning it into destructive and violent rage.

Another facet of my bankruptcy was the murder itself. But I had already thought much on that, and had concluded that vengeance was not mine to take. There were other things I could have done to prevent Herr Grüber from victimizing others, short circuit of killing him.

That left my unexpected sexual reaction to the murder. True, there was no option involved in that, and I could not ingest known it would happen. But I did know now, so it is not something to be forgotten. Considering the way I had been trained, the thought that causing pain to another mortal can be sexually arousing and pleasurable is something I must remember in order that I might head off falling fair game to just such a temptation in the future. To deliberately inflict agony and even death upon someone else in order to earn the sort of ecstasy I had felt could not be anything but a hideously selfish perversion of the necessity joy inherent in our sexuality.

So what then had I been guilty of ? cowardliness in not facing the pain of grief and loss directly. failing for giving in to storm and fury instead. Premeditated murder. Deriving joy from that murder, however unexpectedly. And finally, despair over the consequences.

Cowardice and helplessness, while not desirable traits, could not accurately be classified as sins in and of themselves, so I ruled them out. That left the remaining three : Premeditated slaying, Illicit Sexual Pleasure, and Despair.

You may think that a tiddler of my age could not possibly have analyzed his behavior so closely, but I was not an ordinary child. In many way, I knew far too much for my own estimable, while in early ways, I understood far too piffling.



No Sooner had I decided on the individual components that made up my sin, than I recalled an article I had read not long ago in an encyclopedia that described a strange sort of ABC's given to humankind by the Angel Falls Gabriel. Did I honestly believe that literally ? No. But the letters themselves had haunted me, seeming somehow fascinating in their odd unworldly form and flourishes. I wondered how it would expect if I wrote out my sins using that hand. For the saki of brevity, I reduced them to three run-in : Murder, delight, and Despair.

Obviously, I used the High German words : Mord, Vergnügen, and Verzweiflung, so the letter of the alphabet do not fit to the English language words. I also took a sure sum of money of autonomy with the figure of the letter, since there are already respective mutation on this alphabet in existence.

I held the paper up in my manus in front of my eyes. As I stared at it, the sharp-edged spiky varsity letter almost seemed to glow. And then they turned red and blood welled up from the job, running down the paper and dripping onto the level. They seemed to be showing me what I should do.

It felt somehow right. It would show my determination never to do it again. It was not penance so much as trial impression of my seriousness. Sometimes it is not enough just to say you are sorry.

Once I had made up my mind, I considered where on my organic structure such a design belonged. My sexual response to killing played a large part in my flop into guilt and hopelessness. At kickoff, I rejected the obvious emplacement that presented itself to me, but after to a greater extent thought process, I realized that the electronic organ which took pleasure in killing would be the best place for a reminder, since it was also something I would see several clip in the course of each day for the rest of my animation whenever I had to micturate. And, as a more potent reminder, whenever I had sex.

That presented me with a new problem : there was not enough space to fit all those letters, especially considering the enlarge detail of the angelic script.

I solved it by taking the number 1 alphabetic character of each word. That resulted in a design that I could etch length-wise along the top of my shaft, if the letters were done very small and carefully. I chose the order of the varsity letter to be such that I could show them from top to bottom as I looked down upon my penis, since that was how I would normally be seeing them. Thus, the M is closest to the end, while the final examination V is closest to my body.

Of course, the stinger would have to be very shallow in order not to slice entirely through the layer of pelt, since such a thing could easily cause more damage than I intended. Only three letters. It did not look beyond my capacitance to endure.

But I needed something tart than the knife I had intended to use on Herr Grüber. I returned to Schönberg ; specifically, I returned to the drugstore in that town, jumping into the building late at nighttime and searching for something suitable. I would have settled for a bundle of razor vane, but as it happened I found something even better in one of the many drawers containing checkup point : a collection of needle meant to be used with subcutaneous pandean pipe. They were conveniently marked by diameter and length, so I chose what I thought looked best for my intended use and took six of them, plus a bottle of alcohol and a box of gauze pads.

In an attempt to make up for the fact that I was technically stealing these affair, I figured up the price and left some money on the counter. Let the pill pusher puzzle over it as he wished. I had at to the lowest degree paid for what I had taken.

The be day found me sitting in the shiny part of the basement, naked from the waist down, with legion candela burning around me in order to give me the best view possible of what I planned to do.

I had thought it all out in advance. I should bulge my design well clear of my foreskin, as that could rip too easily if I cut too deeply. In guild to have a surface firm enough to pull in the varsity letter in sufficient point, I would induce to be fairly hard. That was not very difficult to reach, even knowing what I planned to do.

I had pubic whisker now, dark black but sparse, and my penis had begun to grow declamatory in comparing to my body. Nevertheless, at thirteen years old, I was still Thomas More boy than man.

I rubbed some alcoholic drink over the area I planned to decorate, then unwrapped and uncapped one of my needle. The end was delicately tapered off to one side, resulting in a razor-sharp point. I had tried cutting a small line on my thigh earlier, so I knew it would work.

I took a breath, then firmly drew the pointedness over the top open of my member, not even daring to wince at the pain for fear I would act enough to mar the design. I do not think I need to severalize you that it hurt. botheration is not something that can be easily described, in any sheath.

I tried to recollect of my skin as being just something on which I was marking a design, letting the pain in the neck descend away into my imagined cellar to conjoin everything else that was already there. The sarcasm of the situation was not entirely lost on me : here I sat in a real basement, trying to escape from the termination of something I willingly did to myself by dumping it into an imaginary number basement.

Every so often, I had to stop and blot away the blood so that I could see what I was doing Thomas More clearly.

As I drew the equivalent of M, I forced myself to remember the flavor on Herr Grüber's dead face.

Eventually, I completed the first missive and, taking a fresh needle, I began the second.

For this V, I first visualized Anna's centre, glazed with pain and hopelessness as I helped Herr Grüber with her"training ”. Then I made myself recall the vivid orgasm I had had at the fourth dimension of his death : a hideous desecration of what should be a beautiful thing.

Often during this cognitive operation, I wondered if I might suffer gone half-baked, but something stronger compelled me to continue.

To an extent, I suppose I did welcome the pain, as it allowed me to feel that I might in some way be paying for what I had done, but I never felt that God had told me to do it as a circumstance of being forgiven. Maybe I just felt as if it was only right that I should suffer for what I had done, to somehow strengthen my resolve not to do it again.

Once I even pictured myself throwing all those memory board and look down into the basement along with the pain, but I could not. They loomed so boastfully and awkward in forepart of me that I was not able to crowd them through the door, much less down the steps. I decided that was just as well. What commodity is a reminder if you try to destroy the memory board of what it is meant to prompt you of ?

At last, I began the second V, this one for Despair.

I imagined Fr. Bauer, falling beneath the flaming roof, burning to death. Compared to his suffering, my own was as nothing.

Almost finished now. The hand that held the needle was beginning to tremble. What if I do not have the strength to complete ? I am a Noel Coward. I am a sap, thinking this ridiculous bit of self-torture will fulfill anything. It is hopeless -

No ! Never again must I ease up in to this feeling. It is the very same Despair this design is meant to warn me against. Never again must I impart up hope. Yea, though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of decease. Never must I even think of suicide. Never again must I pay in to the shadow. Never must I heed to the voice that tells me all is worthless. Never must I listen to the voice that tells me I am worthless. Never must I give up Bob Hope. Never may I give up on the earth. Never may I imagine of myself as beyond God's mercy. Never again must I despair. For without Leslie Townes Hope, there can be no animation, no love, no beneficial, no happiness, no laughter, no way of getting through the inevitable sorrow. No joy, no ecstasy, no beauty, no hazard of in effect affair to come. No Light in my center.

Every time I look at these scars, I must remember. Every meter I feel them when I hold my penis to relieve oneself. Every time I step in front of a mirror naked, every time I look down at myself, I will remember. Every metre my penis hardens in my handwriting as I seek pleasure by myself. Every time it swells with desire, I will feel the slight pulling of the scarred shape and remember. Every clip I feel it slide into individual's consistence, I will remember. Every sentence person touches me here, I will remember. Every time I open my eyes and watch as my ejaculate jet from me, I will call back all these things.

desperation is demise.
Nur nicht verzweifeln.
Above all else, thousand shalt not Despair.

I finished. I laid the needle parenthesis. I picked up the bottle of inebriant and poured it liberally over my grim study of art. I fainted, holding onto consciousness only long enough to make sure I fell onto my back, rather than the front of my body.



I fall silent. To cover the momentary cumbersomeness, I take a farsighted drink from the water supply glass next to the bed. Stricken with a sudden onslaught of shyness, I pull up the covers around me. Logan's hand covers mine before I can let them go.

"Don't do that, darlin ’. There's nothing to be ashamed of."

I turn my font away.

"What's the topic ? Me seeing you naked never bothered you before."

"Before you did not love the meaning of what you saw. Now it is different."

"No, it's not.

Still holding my deal, he lowers the covers again, exposing my almost erect penis.

"Just telling me about it did that ?"

All I can do is nod.

He frees my finger from the framework and sets my handwriting down beside me on the bed."Lie still. I want to look at you."
He takes the piddling LED torch from his nightstand and turns it on.

I cringe."Nein. You can see well enough in the dark, you do not want -"

"It's hard enough to make out little details on a dark blue background in the day, much to a lesser extent at night."

He shines the flashlight directly onto my crotch, leaning stuffy to examine the intricate tracery of the raised scars.

I have to hold back myself from pulling away in ignominy. How could he so totally block me like this ? Can he not see how it is making me feel ?

Of course he can. I can tell by the aspect on his boldness. I look down at myself, trying to see the scar as he does. Is it a further disfigurement of my already unattractive bluing skin, repulsive for what it represents ? Or are all my mark only fascinating because of their connection to wounds and blood line and pain ? Or perhaps he is covetous, as his body does not scar and so he can throw no vivid reminder of the violence he has endured ? Is that all I am to him : an obscene kind of fetish ?

"Stop it, darlin ’. There's cypher to be ashamed of. You don't have to get all freaked out."He leans down to snog the scar."Don't scratch feelin'ashamed of it. disgrace,"he says, each word spaced out between a series of flabby candy kiss,"-- - ain't -- - sexy."

Then he covers my penis with his hand, tenderly, reverently, but not particularly sexually."I can see how it's really three separate plane section, not just one excogitation. You did a good job. It must accept hurt like hell."

"Only because of vhere I did it,"I point out."On a less raw share of the body, I am told such cutting is hardly more abominable than getting a tattoo, and many citizenry do that nowadays merely for decoration."

"You don't need any decoration, Elf. This is beautiful, because you are beautiful."

My foolish imaginings evaporate, and I can finally get together his middle and grin. Because he accepts what I am and what I have done, perhaps it will be possible for me to do the same.

Putting the flashlight away, he pulls the masking up around us both.

"So what happened to you following ?"

"You really vant to know that now ?"

"Uh - well - if you've got a light adaptation, maybe -"

"Ja, I can do a shortsighted version."I settle myself comfortably against him and begin.

"My life after that time vas better. As soon as the veather began to tame, I left my basement behind and traveled across the countryside in hunt of a genus Circus that vould lease me despite my youth. I had the money I had taken from Herr Grüber's planetary house, so I could pay for diggings and anything else I needed along the vay. I knew vhere many of the local circuses spent the vinter, so I vas able to get to them before they began their new time of year.

"Vhenever I had to be around other masses, I could care to mask myself fairly vell vith makeup and an overabundance of clothing. However, in rescript to point vhat I could do for a prospective employer, I had to uncover my true appearance, at least to a certain extent. To that end, I came up vith a costume that made me appear rather like a devil, vith a smashed black bodysuit that had red detailing and falsely pointed red shoulder pieces. My tail assembly had to appear to be part of the costume, so I could not use it for any of my tricks. Instead, I had to keep back it still and out of the vay. That vas not too hard, as I had learned to do it as a child."

It was not farseeing before I found a circus that was bequeath to hire me as a performing artist, once I showed what I could do. A form womanhood who also worked there took me in to live with her and her two children, treating me as an embrace son. Of course, I had to reveal what I truly was to the genus Circus folks, but everyone was all rightfulness with it once they got to know me and became used to my appearance. I have never been accepted so well by any other group of people in my life. Until I joined the X-Men, of line.

As I got better and better at my functioning, I soon became a star in the show. My Stephen Foster blood brother and babe joined me in a functioning that covered stunt flying, the trapeze, and the high wire, with a scenario where I was a heller ( What else ? ) who kidnapped the girl away from her lover. The lover then chased me around through various obstruction and up onto the trapeze, until I ended up snare with the girl in the middle of the high wire. At the point where the lover was about to remove me with his sword, I would laugh demonically and jump from the wire, carrying the girl with me and falling into the net below, which was all lit up by red lights as if we were falling into the fires of inferno. The consultation loved it.

Although I was not too happy over having to diddle such an evil part, I eventually made my peace with it, telling myself that wearing the assumed costume of a demon was somehow a symbolic representation of my own reliable appearance, which is really nothing more than a false costume for my soul.

Our act helped the circus to flourish and develop, and I was happy there for many years. Yes, there was sometimes grieve and sadness, but that is only normal for human beings.

And then one day William Stryker captured me and took me to his infrastructure, to try to turn me into a artillery that he could use to start a war between mutants and human. You know the rest period of the story."


"There. Vas that a short enough version ?"

"Yeah, Elf. Pretty succinct, for you."

"Vhat do you mean by that ?"I reply, feigning insult."Are you implying that I talk a lot ?"

"You might say that, darlin ”."

"Hmph ! In that face, I think I need more vater. My deoxyephedrine is empty."

"Oh, and I suppose ya await me to fill up it up for ya, huh ?"

"Vell, that vould be very kind of you, Liebling,"I say, giving him a saccharine-sweet smile."After all, my shoulder are still very sore and I have just barely recovered from the vay you mistreated me the former night."

"Awright, awright, I get the full stop. Gim me the tinker's dam ice. Ya sure ya don't want more chocolate ice cream while I'm at it ?"

"Vell, now that you mention it -"

He takes the empty methamphetamine."Don't push button it, bub,"he says, mock-menacingly and then laughs.



"Ya know,"he begins when he returns with my water,"to my way of thinkin ’, you didn't need to get all that upset over killing Herr Grüber. I'd say he deserved it."

"But it vas revenge, not self defending team, by the time I did it. And it vas far too late to have prevented Anna's death."

"Yeah, but even so, you repented, Elf. I'd do everything all over again, if I had to."

I think that over for a moment, covering up my hesitation by drinking several mouthfuls of weewee and replacing the glass on my nightstand before I answer."I vish I vere sure that I vould not."

"You wouldn't. You've changed since then. You were young and confused."

"Ja. But perhaps now I am only older and yet more confused."

Logan shakes his head."No, darlin ’. It's me. I made you dredge up all this shit from your past and got you questioning yourself."He turns away, as if he's ready to get up from the bed."Leave me, Elf. I'm no damned goodness for you, and you know it."

I lay the end of my tail over his shoulder before he can actuate any further."Can you count me in the eye and separate me you truly vish me to lead you ? If you can, I vill do as you say."

I am taking a despairing gamble saying that, but I can think of no other way to get past his present self-loathing.

Logan spins around and snaffle my head, holding my look in front line of his, meeting my eyes directly. I look at him with all the confidence and love that I can summon for respective farsighted moment. When he opens his back talk to speak, I wonder if I have lost my bet.

Unable to force himself to say those Good Book of dismissal, he releases me abruptly and turns aside, shaking his head and saying miserably,"Maybe I should just go away from here and leave you in peace."

I grab his shoulder and turn him back to me."I do not vant pacification. I vant love, I vant sex, I vant to feel your physical structure succeeding to me and you inside me !"I stop, trying to quieten myself enough to speak rationally."And beyond that, you must not leave the X-Men. If anyone is to go, it vill be me."

"Why ?"

"You need to be here. It is your salvation."

"Huh ?"

"As an X-Man, your fury at to the lowest degree serves a good purpose. I do not have in mind that it is good, only that it may sometimes be necessity. Far better you should use vhat you are in this vay, than merely for your own survival and pleasure. I, on the other hand, can manage vithout being an X-Man, if I must. And they can get by vithout me."

"That's crap !"

"Is it, Logan ? Is it truly ?"

He can not answer. Yet he looks so forlorn as he sits on the side of the bed, his usually public square shoulders drooping in silent grounds of his sorrow and distress, his top dog angled downwards. I reach out to lay my palm against his face, but feel the bandage still wrapped around that hand. I use my allow hand instead, placing it straight against his cheek, the familiar spirit heavy stubble tickling my palm as I do so.

No more talking, no more weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. I resolve to turn his view to more pleasant things before we go to sleep.

Slowly, I slide my palm down his face and onto the front of his body, beginning on his chest and following the center line of hairsbreadth down over his abdomen to the thick pubic tomentum at his groin. I take his penis into my helping hand. It is just starting to become hard and stiffens even more as my fingerbreadth slip into place around it. At initiatory, all I do is hold him. Then I begin squeezing gently, alternating the pressing between my two fingers as I do so.

"Umm."

I press lightly, almost lightly enough to tickle, only gradually increasing the pressure. It seems inept to be using my left hand, but that merely causes me to pay nearer attending to what I am doing.

He reaches down for me, but I push his deal away.

"Nein, not this prison term,"I tell him softly."Just let me do you. You are so often buried inside me. This time I vant to see and find and taste your orgasm."

Gradually, the squeezing modification to a sliding motion, up and down. He is moving with me now, as I pull harder and tighter.

I slide off the bed and down onto my knees in front line of him, switching the position of my deal as I do so in order to get a more well-situated grip.

Even in the darkness, I can see his member quite well, the vein swollen and standing out, his prepuce sliding back and forth with my hand but entirely assoil of the head by now. I would like to take him into my mouth, but I dare not. I do not think my jagged and very knifelike teeth could debar doing equipment casualty. But my spit can do no damage, so I lean down and use it to drub the expose glans, tasting the moisture that is gathering there at his twat. Each time he thrusts forward, I give him another quick lick.

I wish I could prolong this, but I know he will soon be ready to follow and I do not wish to tease him now. Instead, I run my tongue hard against the underside of his glans, into that notch just below the slit where I know he is very sensitive.

My hand moves faster, harder, drawing him towards the mouth I must not use.

"O god, Elf ! AAHH !"

As I feel his muscles begin to spasm, I cover the end of his glans with my sass, denying him any further entrance between my parted teeth, while sucking as voiceless as I can. His semen comes into my oral cavity in thick spirt. I swallow it greedily, wanting to take some small-scale component part of him inside me and score it my own, even if only like this. When it stops and he relaxes, I try something that does not always work, but can be well worth it when it does.

Starting at the foundation of his beam of light, with my fingers curled firmly around the pep pill English and my thumb pressed against the crushed side, I gently milk the small-scale amount of cum that remains in the urethra up and out into my sassing. I feel him shudder as another legal brief cramp of unexpected joy runs through his groin.

"Saviour Fuckin'Christ, Elf ! Where'd you learn to do that ?"he exclaims."No, don't narrate me. I already know."


When we break apart, we lie beside each early crosswise on the bed, trying to catch our intimation. The night is almost over, and neither of us has slept. Logan has to be even more run down than I am, since he has been short on sleep for various days by now. I am wrung out, frazzled, sweat-soaked, and both physically and emotionally exhausted. Briefly, I consider getting up to take a shower, but I am just too weary.

"Elf, my mastermind is totally fried. No more talkin ’, OK ? Can we just go to catch some Z's now ?"

I struggle to fight myself up on one arm, so I can look down at his face."I have only one more thing I must say, Schatz. My heart and soul are yours. But you are not the steward of my moral sense, nor am I the keeper of yours. I do not have to correspond with your ethics in fiat to love you."

"Can you live like that ?"

"I must, if the alternative is losing you."

He does not suffice, but he reaches up to me and I go into his blazon. So what if we're a mess, the bed is a plenty, the elbow room scent of perspiration and sex ? It does not matter.

We scrunch ourselves around until we are lying beneath the top. I snuggle against him and lay my head on his shoulder, sighing with relief. My centre close and my eubstance begins to relax against his.

I think we have settled it, that we have agreed to disagree.

I could not give been more improper if I had tried.


PRAY FOR US SINNERS PART 3


INTERLUDE : IN THE cellar

When I awake again, I hear the exhibitioner running so I know that Logan is already in the lavatory. That is somewhat unusual, as I am generally the initiatory one to get up. Fortunately, it is a Sabbatum, so I have no classes to teach. I turn over and try unsuccessfully to go back to kip.

The shower is turned off. Shortly after that, the bathroom threshold surface and pace approach the bed. Still exhausted, I do not finger like dealing with anyone just now. My muscles ache and I am sore in various places. I just want to be left alone, so I feign eternal sleep, slowing my ventilation and taking no card of Mount Logan, even though I know he is standing there looking down at me.

I may or may not have fooled him, but he turns away after a duo of minutes, and I hear the door next to the toilet room access open and penny-pinching. right. He has gone into his own room to get dressed without disturbing me, as I hoped he would. I snuggle deeper into the screening, pulling an sharpness of the blanket over my centre to keep out the sun that is shining in our window. I go back to sleep.

By the time I wake up again, it is by noontide. My body is still stiff, but my mind is now Thomas More alert and focused. Mein Gott, what a nighttime that was ! I am only glad that it is over. There are no more guilty arcanum for me to hide. Logan knows it all. I am ashamed, but I am also relieved, as if a capital boiling point on my psyche has been lanced and all of the pus has been squeezed out. It hurt dreadfully, but it is done. What is left is a dull ache, nothing more.

The ghost of a smile bends the corners of my lips. I yawn, then stretch along luxuriously, enjoying even the protest of sore muscles, the bunco game of the snub on my articulatio humeri. I lift the qauze bandages, just to see that I haven't opened them again. No, they are healing nicely, but are still rather painful if I move wrong. I spread and close my right manus a few multiplication. Still soused, but not aching much anymore.

All right, I am in unspoilt shape, considering. But where is Logan ? He should have come back long ago to roust me out of bed. It is most unlike him to let me sleep so belatedly.



When I go down to the kitchen to forage up a sandwich, I run into Storm also eating lunch and ask if she has seen Logan, only to feel that he has taken off on his motorcycle several hours earlier. Oh well. He does that sometimes. I am sure he will tell me about it when he comes back.

A smattering of the students are in the lounge watching a movie on the tv. I join them for a spell, but grow bored quickly. It is a wacky funniness, and I find I am not in the climate for such a affair just now.

I am unaccountably uneasy. I consider going for a base on balls, but it is stale outside, with low grey-headed clouds blowing across the sky. In early Mar, it is not too late for C, but that will probably not bump for 60 minutes yet, if at all.

I end up in the reclining chair in my study, trying to show a record. Often, my compactness flags and I sit staring out the window. Where is he ? Why is he not back by now ? Is he out drinking somewhere ? What if something has happened to him ?

No Oklahoman do I dismiss these worries as jerky than early thoughts take over my intellect. storage of Fr. Bauer, Anna, all the affair that I never wanted to remember because of the infliction they cause me. And I have told all of them to Logan. Maybe he has gone away for in effect, after learning that I am as a good deal a monster as he thinks he is.

Then come worse storage. The things he told me last night about killing that fair sex. What he did to me. All the doubts I had felt, and still feel. Yet I have promised not to leave alone him, to love him anyway. Will I be able to truly do that, next sentence he goes off on one of his missionary station, now that I know what may be happening ? Would it even be right for me to try to do so ? How do I love such a sinner ? God may be able to forgive such things, but I am not God. How will I do this ? Do I even want to do this ?

My thinking go circle and round in my head, in an endless circle that gets nowhere. Outside my window, swarthiness and Charles Percy Snow Begin to pass together.

I stare out the window for a moment, then conclude my eyes and say a brief appeal with what little remains of my wavering faith. Sweet God of my youth, in Thy infinite Wisdom and Endless passion, forgive him, for he knows exactly what he is doing.

I hear the sound of a motorcycle coming down the road, then turning in to the hall. No, I will not get up and run down to see if it is him. I will not even throw off myself at him and ask where he has been. I will await right here and let him come to me, if that is what he wishes to do.

It is not long until the door to my study opens. As if cipher untoward has happened, Logan glances at me.

"Hey, Elf ! Let's go lift up some grub. I'm starved."

"Sure. Be right vith you."

As we walk down the hall together, he drapes one arm over my shoulders, withdrawing it quickly when I wince.

"Sorry. I forgot."

He says nothing else all the while we are down in the kitchen, even though I try to embark on a conversation about what he did today. Well, that is not terribly unusual. He is often not very talkative. I will let it rest until later, when we are alone together.

violent storm comes in while we are there and takes a bottle of juice out of the electric refrigerator. She looks at us strangely, as if she expects us to say something. Logan just sits there feed and looking rather sullen. I smile at her and return her a tiny wave with the point of my fingers.

His mental attitude is starting to get to me. I feel a tension between us that is not usually there. I thought we had gotten past all of that and things would now be better. When I try to play his optic, he looks away. My belly ties itself into a mile and I am no longer hungry. What is it now ?

I am still tired from last-place night, and the food has only increased my somnolence. Judging by the sunken feeling around Logan's eyes, he is not much punter off than I am. There is a silence between us that should not be there, a concern of each for the other. If we have any sense, we will change state in early on tonight and just slumber. I am not in any temper for sex.

On the other hired man, sex may be just what Mount Logan needs to get him to open up up. The conflict inside me grows as we climb the step and go into our elbow room. Please, let there be no emergency missionary post tonight. I am just not up to it.

Logan glances at our bed, folding down the sympathiser."I see ya changed the sheets and all, huh, darlin'? good. Sure needed it. I woulda done that after I got up this dayspring, but you were still layin'there."

I tilt my head word aside and shrug, then wince at the stab of annoyance in my shoulder. I have got to stop doing that.

"You OK ?"

"Ja. I am fine."

Our news are stiffly, too formal. There is an unseeable wall between us, and neither of us knows how to break it down. This is not a good thing.

Logan goes into the bathroom. I can hear the piddle running. He is doubtlessly brushing his teeth and washing up in preparation for going to bed. Good. That is all I have the energy to do right now. The wall dividing us will just give birth to wait for tomorrow. I begin shedding my article of clothing. Maybe if I keep my underclothes on he will take the steer. I can hear him pissing now. The bathroom will soon be mine.

I head in quickly as he comes out. In a few minute of arc, I am back.

He is lying in bed on top of the covers, bare and posed rather lewdly with his legs spread apart. Only a low bit of the comforter is folded over so that his crotch is covered. Under ordinary fortune, just the sight of him like this would deform me on. But these are not ordinary luck, so I find myself rather annoyed.

"C'mere, Elf. I got somethin'for ya."

Scheisse ! Can he not see that I am not worry in what he has to volunteer tonight ? Do I have to hail right out and secern him I do not feel like sex just now ? Can he not smell my want of arousal, if aught else ?

Logan leans over to his face of the bed, fumbling around in the nightstand for a mo, undoubtedly to make sure he has some lube W. C. Handy. Ja, I am right. He wants to have it off me.

"C'mon, darlin ’. You'll like this."

I doubt it. I am really not turned on at all, after finale night's experience. I stay flop where I am, hoping he will take the hint.

"Damnit, Kurt, take off the blamed underwear and get your ass over here !"

I heave a loud sigh. After all the times he's had me already, does once Sir Thomas More matter ? Do I really want to reason about it ? I sit on the edge of the bed and strip off my undershirt and briefs, then turn resignedly towards him.

Only to recover myself looking directly at a turgid bar of Hershey's Special iniquity Chocolate being held out practically in my face.

Judging by Logan's laugh, I must look very surprised indeed.

"You thought it would be somethin'else, didn't ya ?"he says, after he manages to control his mirth. By now, I am laughing also. All I can do is nod, and take the chocolate bar.

As I tear off the wrapper and break off a large clod, I tell him, mock scolding,"You are sometimes a most exacerbating man, mein Schatz."

"I try, Elf. I try. Hey, ya gon na devour it all without even giving me any ?"

"Here."I break off a piece of the chocolate bar and hand it to him with my tail, the rest of it held tightly in my greedy finger. I could eat it all myself, but fair is fair.

When all the confect is gone and every bit has been licked off of each one's sticky fingers by the other's natural language, he looks at me steadily for a moment.

"Aw right, darlin ’, the fun is over. Now comes the gruelling part. I'm gon na ask you to do something you're gon na hate even More than the way I raped you last night."

"Nein, it vas not -"

Mount Logan's hand screening my sass before I can resist further.

"Yes, it was. No matter how you may want to free it. Now just listen, OK ?"

I nod, already dreading what I am going to hear.

"I'm goin'away for a patch. I can't tell you where, or when I'll be back. After you fell asleep, I spent what minuscule was left of the nighttime thinkin'about some of the things we said, and what I've been doin'lately. I went off on my bicycle to think some more, away from the School and all the people in it. I've got ta get away from everything to really mould through this and realize some decisiveness. I guess it might be what you'd call soul-searching. I've lost my way, and I have to regain it again."

I can no longer retain quiet."Let me go vith you. I can help -"

"No, Elf, ya can't. You've given me all the supporter you can already, just by makin'me know you ain't perfect either. I have some idea exactly how much it cost you to do that, too. But this is somethin'I got ta do for myself, and by myself. I need to be alone, where there's nothin'around but the low temperature and the coke, no citizenry, only unwarranted animals and wilderness. That's what I do when I don't know what to do. That's where I go to search for my route when I'm lost. Sometimes I need to have the essential simplicity of wildness around me in order to see the reality of my living clearly."

"But -"

"No buts. I'm sorry, darlin ’. I know this will be hard on you, but I'm no good to you like this. I'm no good to anyone."

"But the X-Men -"

"Storm is doing a feel job running affair here. She doesn't need me."

"But if I vere vith you -"

"Do I hafta spell it out for ya ? Where I'm goin'isn't somewhere you could live on. I'm goin'magnetic north, darlin ’, way Union. Where there ain't no people, no civilization. I'm gon na live up there for a while, outside, catchin'my own intellectual nourishment, and howling at the lunar month, if I damn well feel like it. I've done it before, and I'll probably do it again, when I need to. I'll be huntin'and killin ’, and taking a delight in doing it. There's a rage inside me that I've got to let out, a bloodlust that builds up that I can't get rid of any other way. This ain't somethin'I want you to see, and it sure ain't anything you'd want to see, believe me."

I know he is decently, but I do not require to admit it. I shake my head.

"I shoulda done it after I murdered that charwoman, instead of coming back here. I should never have laid this on you. No convention soul could understand."

"I am hardly vhat one vould claim normal."

"Compared to me, you are. I could never ask you to understand."

"I vill try, if you vill let me. please do not go out me here alone."

"I've got to, Elf. This is for me to do. You'll have your own work to do while I'm gone."

"Vhat do you think of ?"

"I mean this : while I'm away, I want you to strike stock of your own life also. Have I lifted you up to where you want to be, or have I dragged you down into the filth that surrounds me ?"

"I do not need to do that. I know I vant you to quell here."

"No, ya only think ya do. If you love me, Kurt, let me go."

I bow my headway and let the tears slip from my oculus. He is right, and I know it."How farsighted ?"I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Maybe as long as six calendar month. Probably less."

I open my sassing to protest, then conclude it again. There is nix I can say.

"I will come back to you, Elf, if only to severalize you of my decisiveness. If I live, I will return. If I'm not back by a year from now at the very latest, stop waiting for me because I'm dead. But I'm pretty voiceless to pour down, so I expect to be back long before then. And when I return, I want you to have made a decision also. Do you really want to remain with me, despite what you know full well that I am ? Can you live with it, when you've heard the solvent of my soul-searching and know where my life will be taking me ? Or does your path lead story elsewhere ?"

"Vhere else vould I be, other than by your side ?"

"That's what I want you to consider, darlin ’. But you can't do that while I'm here with you. I want you to face into your own heart, without paying attention for mine. Can you assure to do that for me ?"

He has gone too far. My resolve to accept this waver and shatters."Nein ! ! I already know the reply to that ! I could not leave you willingly. Do not ask this of me ! Bitte, Logan, nein ! ! It is the one thing I can not do !"

"Why not ? What stops you ? What are you afraid of ?"

I shake my head, trying to traverse everything he has said.

"You already told me you could be without being an X-Man, if you had to. Are you afraid that you might witness you could go on without me perfectly well also ?"

"If you do not already know the solvent to that, I can not tell you."

His expression and spokesperson turn suddenly gentle, and I am even More afraid."No, Kurt. I think it's yourself you can't Tell. C'mere."He pulls me into his arms, so that I'm lying on his chest."We're going somewhere."

"Vhere ?"

"Remember that lilliputian home you showed me, where Herr Grüber taught you to store all your painfulness in the cellar ?"

I nod warily."How could I forget ?"

"I think you've stored Thomas More than just physical pain down there. We're going to see."

"Nein ! !"His weapon system tighten around me even as I try to pull away. His mouth speck my lips in a easy kiss.

"Close your eyes."

I feel the slight pressure of his lips as he kisses each of my palpebra."Please, mein Schatz -"

His finger presses against my lips."Shh, darlin ’. It's OK. I promise. Now picture that door, solid, strong, with an atomic number 26 deadbolt holding it closed."

Against my will, his word conjure up that long-familiar door in my mind.

"Now open it."

I hear myself whimper.

"Open the doorway, Elf. You can do it. You're not that scared little boy anymore."

"I am not so sure of that."But I slide the bolt and push on the door.

"Now go down the stair. I'll be correctly behind you."

"No !"He is rubbing my spinal column now, as I curl up into a tight chunk against him.

"Why not ?"

"The steps are old and rotten. They vill crash and trap us down there."

"So what ? You can teleport us out."

"I do not vant to go down there."

"It's necessary, darlin ’. You trusted Fr. Bauer once. Be brave again and bank me now."

I start down the stairs. They do not crock up, even with his weighting behind me.

"What do you see and get a line and smack ?"

"skeletal frame of old pain, picked clean by the years. rustling of computer memory. Bits of painful stuff and nonsense floating around, like moldy rubble. darkness shadows in the far corner, shadows into which even I can not see."

"Go closer to the shadows. What do you see now ?"

"Anna ! No, no, dearest baby, you can not be here. You are dead."

I am on the edge of screaming when she opens her eyes and reaches her manus out toward me.

"What is she doing, Kurt ? Tell me. severalise me !"

"She is holding my hand, looking up at me with longing. I pick her up in my coat of arms and hold her minuscule eubstance against my chest. She wants to state me something. What is it, Anna ? She says that what Herr Grüber told me is not dependable, she did not obliterate herself because I left her, although she did omit me a lot. She would feature done it anyway. She says -"

"Go on. What else does she say ?"

I hear the voice of a lost petty female child coming from my sassing as I answer him."It was all Herr Grüber's fault, and his is the blame and the guilt because of how he treated me. I have waited here for all these years to severalise you this. Now I am free to go."

"Anna, no ! You do not give to go."My limb close more tightly around her, but she slips through them as if she were made of junk. Nothing but a mild whisper remains inside my mind."Auf Wiedersehen, lieber Kurt."

A tear runs down my boldness, but I do not know if it is made of sorrow or of joy.

Again, Mount Logan speaks to me."Go further into the shadows."

I do not want to, but somehow I know I must. I shuffle forward a bit, as rubble swirls up in front of me from my loath footfall. It coalesces into shadowy physical body in the shadow before me, shapes which form themselves into a serial publication of vignettes.

Logan, lying dead, his body torn to piece of music and decapitated. Logan, happy in the blazon of another man. Mount Logan, killing viciously and without self-reproach. Logan, never returning to me, leaving me alone, with no knowledge of his circumstances. Logan, torn and bleeding, being held up in the hook of a demon before the Prince of Hell, about to be punished for his many Sin. Mount Logan, smiling down at a woman with a baby at her breast.

"What do you see, Elf ? lecture to me."

"Vhat do I see ?"My voice sounds dead, defeated."You. potential futurity. Some good, some bad. All vithout me."

"Uh-huh. Now go on. Go all the way into that turning point. What's there ?"

I brush the swirl of dust excursus and step forward, then block abruptly when I see what lies on the storey in front of me.

"What is it ?"

"Me,"I whisper,"as a little boy, sobbing my heart out, alone and deserted, bleeding, ravaged, heart-broken."

"Why is he crying ? What's wrongly ?"

"Alles ist weg. Everything I cared about, the only one I loved, all that I believed in - gone. All gone."I shake my caput and the ikon variety."No, it is no longer a little boy. It is me now, my eye perfectly and white, lying in our bed alone and naked, a gun held to my fountainhead. Vhat do I have to live for ? I vill end it here, vhere I have experienced my dandy happiness."

"Kurt, no ! Don't !"

I seem to hear something, a representative shouting at me, but I close my eyes and stimulate my header. My digit tightens on the trigger.

"Elf, you damn changeling ! Look down ! rival your cock !"

I hesitate, but do as the voice William Tell me, peculiar about such a strange petition at a sentence like this.

"You've been here before, darlin ’, and you survived."

Bemused, I feel beneath my fingers the constituent of the mark that means Despair. I remember once again how it felt to carve the conception. The piercing hurting as the knife gash through my skin. The firm resolve that I must never put these hell again.

But that no longer matters. The past is not significant. All is lost. The future is without hope.

I shake my head."This time, I do not vish to survive."

"Then live because I wish you to, my own dearest love."

I feel Mount Logan's digit take cargo area of my penis, dislodging my hand, taking the scars into his clutches. He pulls and squeezes me gently, rhythmically. My turncock swells, the psyche emerging from the foreskin, which is being drawn back further with each apoplexy. His tongue touches the tip of my glans and I shudder and cry out. Then his mouth covers my aching shaft and he draws it inside.

In the end, I find that it takes more than just an esoteric design carved into my penis to convince me not to give in to despair. It takes the words of the man whose backtalk now holds and sucking my cock so avidly to truly teach me that lesson.

The gun drops from my hand.

I open my oculus and see the reality of what I felt. His head at my groin, moving up and down. The gathering Wave of desire surging through me. He pulls me rich into his back talk, and that is all it takes. I arch my dorsum, and thrust upwards, emptying myself into him as my inside convulse in delightful spasms and my idea blanks out with the overload of joy and release that is orgasm.

He takes me in his arms and candy kiss me deeply. I can taste my own cum in his oral cavity. And I know I must face this trial and endure it, for his sake. And for my own.

This may well be the hardest thing I will ever give birth to do. But is it as hard as burying your claws in the body of the fair sex you love the way he did, because that is what must be done ? No, it is not. If I must, I can do this for him.

"I vill be here vhen you come back, I promise you."

"I'm not worth it, Kurt. I'm really not."

"You are. I vill be here vhen you return to me."




PRAY FOR US evildoer, PART 4



For respective retentive bit, we lie there in silence.

"Vhen vill you leave ?"

"Tomorrow, after I get up. It won't take me long to collect my things."

"So soon ?"

"Why should I wait ? That will only postpone the inevitable."

He is right. I nod my acquiescence.

"Elf, if at any metre while I'm gone you change your brain about wanting me -"

I shake my head and hold up my hand to stop whatever it is he will say, but he pushes it gently aside.

"No, listen. If you change your mind, you're free to go. You don't have to stay here just to tell apart me that. If you meet someone else -"

This time I manage to get my deal over his sass before he can go any further. For a few instant, we just look at each other. Then his hand reaches behind my head and drag me forward into another buss, which deepens quickly. I know where this will inevitably lead. I pull away as gently as I can.

"I - I am not surely I vant to do this again,"I begin."I mean, I just came and I -"

"I can realize that, Elf, and I won't insist if you truly don't want it. But I'd like to, if you'll allow me. That blow job was nothing, just a way to get through to you. This prison term I want to show you that I can be very different from the creature who raped you last night."

"I know that. You do not need to raise it to me."

"Maybe it isn't you I need to prove it to, darlin ’."

I am still not sure. I am so scurvy that I can not even imagine becoming awake again so soon. I just want to lie here and cry in his weapons system, and uphold to beg him not to leave me. But that will gain null for either of us. He does not demand to see such a thing right now. If I ever hope to land him back, I must let him go without leaving him with such a tearful and depressing memory of our farewell. I will be strong.

He is still looking at me hopefully."You'll like it, Elf. I know ya will. I know you're still hurtin'some. I'll prepare it Nice and slow and gentle."

I give him a tentative grin and nod. Seeing my acquiescence, he grins broadly then stands up. I can see that he's already fairly toilsome, so I doubt he'll finally very long, despite what he just said. Given my present humor, that might be a full thing.

Somewhat to my surprise, he takes two candles off of one of our shelf and brightness them, placing one on either nightstand.

"I want to see better what I'm doin'than I usually do,"is the only explanation I get.

I am not too for sure I like that estimation, but I say nothing.

He sits down on the bed and leans forward over me. His back talk barely touch mine before they move on to the residuum of my fount, licking my eyelids with a soft film of his clapper, kissing my forehead, my impudence, my ears, my chin with the gentleness I imagine that a fair sex might use when kissing her child : slowly, carefully, with a patience uncharacteristic of most of our sex. My sassing part slightly and I take in a flabby breath.

Then his backtalk pinch mine again, just briefly. I hear his hoarse whisper."I'm gon na make passion to ya, darlin ’. Not just fuck ya."

His lip covers mine, his tongue seeks to enter my split up lips, not with the usual urgency of our coupling, but hesitantly, as if asking an invitation. I can not serve but spread out my backtalk wider, mindful of the penetrative dot of my front teeth. He takes my invitation. The lonesome function of our bodies that are touching are our mouths, but I feel the renewed stirring of desire in my crotch.

When his tongue is finished playing games with mine, he works his way down across my throat to my chest. Then his sassing comes down over my left nipple, drawing it in, sucking on me gently with a rhythmic pull and expiration. It is as if he is connected to a taut telegram that runs through my body and connects with the base of my penis, making me twitch and jerk in clip with his sucking. So scented is this tactual sensation that portion of me wants to urge him to hurry on, while another part wants him to delay where he is forever.

Abruptly, he releases the grueling nub of my teat, kissing his way rapidly across my chest to the other one, then teases it unmercifully using his natural language, sometimes a hard salt lick across the entire constrain bit of sensitive shape, sometimes just a quick picture show across the tip with the end of his glossa. This frustrating and wonderful teasing seems to go on for time of day, as my body begins to squirm beneath his ministrations.

"Logan, please,"I gasp helplessly.

I hear a low chortle as he stops what he is doing."Now, Elf, you're supposed ta be lyin'there and enjoyin'yourself, not squirmin'all over the place. bear yourself. And while you're at it, make your after part carry itself too."He catches my tail with one script and carefully undo it from around his thigh.

"But I want -"

"This from the man who just said he wasn't sure he could do it again so soon ? Be patient role. I'll get there - eventually."

And his mouth goes back to work on the presence of my eubstance. Leaving my throb nipples behind, his spit follows the vaguely pitchfork-like intent that covers my abject chest, going first down the midriff and then criss-crossing from English to side several times, moving upward further each clock time as he follows the precis of what would be the tines of the pitchfork. When he reaches the starting point again, he retraces his path straight down the middle and goes on to the symbolic representation that stretches across my lower abdominal cavity. Here, he switches from tongue to tenderly teasing fingertip, following each curlique and pointy flourish from one hip to the other.

"Someday you've got ta evidence me what all these other pattern mean,"he says softly."Ya know that, don't ya ?"

"Many of them -- are not -- very interesting."It is becoming harder for me to talk, my breather catching more frequently as his finger works his way further down my body.

"Spread your legs for me, darlin ’."

My lust only increases at those familiar spirit Christian Bible. Now we will get down to some real legal action.

He shifts placement, moving between my leg. I expect to feel his digit at my anus. But no, not yet. Instead, he grabs a pillow, lifts my pelvis and props me on top of the pillow, giving himself best approach to my genital organ. Avoiding my unbendable cock, he takes hold of my sac. With a touch so delicate that one would not conceive it could get along from his orotund hands, he works my glob deftly with his finger, until they have loosened again and retreated from their tight knot against my inguen.

I am not sure I like this."Logan -"

"Shh."

Before I realize what he is doing, he has both of my testicles enclosed in his mouth. This feels strange and almost threatening, but also adept. I dare not move, even as I make a sort of a choking noise somewhere deep in my throat. His tongue manoeuvre with my pin ball, but gently so as not to stimulate painful sensation.

I can feel the insistent twitching inside me somewhere in the neighborhood of my vesica, an itch that I desperately want to be scratched, and soon.

He releases me. One hand cups my tingling scrotum and rhytidoplasty it up, pressing it against my stopcock, while his mouth motion to the scissure of my ass. His other paw banquet me open, allowing his tongue memory access to my anus. I usually find this hard to endure, as I am very cognizant of his recherche signified of smell and it disturbs me, but this time I do not care. This time I want to ease up him entree to any part of me that he desires.

He spends an indecently farseeing meter working on me like this, while I lie gasping and trying to hold still beneath his ministration. With the fingerbreadth of his other hand, which still holds my putz and testis, he taps lightly on the prick of my penis. My body seems to be dissolving in sensation ; aching, yearning moving ridge of desire washables repeatedly over me. His tongue seeks entrance, probing at my sphincter until it gains admission price. His natural language is not enough, of course. I want to be opened further, stimulated more deeply.

As if he has read my mind, he slackens somewhat, one arm stretching out, reaching for something, causing his body to transfer slightly. His knife retreats and the tip of his finger takes its place, covered with the Crisco we prefer to use as a lubricant.

"Yes ! Yes ! Now !"I beg. But he spends an inordinate amount of time smearing it on to me and in me.

"Ya surely, Elf ?"He can not be unplayful. I slit my closed heart open to bet at him, only to see that he is barely restraining a grinning. I do not experience how he himself has held off for so long, when I want it so much I am barely able to go on from pushing myself onto that erect and dripping penis that juts from between his legs as he sits there Nipponese way, with his feet folded beneath him, his finger's breadth still delicately stroking my asshole.

A wide smile spreads over my aspect, almost a grimace, stretching my lips back from my tooth. To anyone but Logan, it would come along fearsome indeed.

"I'll take that as a yes,"he says. His manus grasp my renal pelvis, drawing me onto his fold up knees and towards that welcoming rod. No longer being held pressed against my abdominal cavity, my cock juts up sharply, the prepuce now entirely retracted from my self-conceited glans and a beadwork of moisture gather at the tip. My tag curls around Logan's waistline and my own knees find their place bent over his ample shoulders as I try to deplume myself onto him.

"Uh-uh, darlin ’. Slow and easy."His hands lock me down against his leg, preventing any motion.

"But -"

"All in good time."

I have no option but to give in, with only a smothered sort of sob giving voice to my defeated desire.

At his own speed, he moves me up the side of his thighs and toward my target.

My head thrown back, my rim partly open, I force myself to allow him to do this as he wants to. Finally, his veracious manus releases me, while his exit presses monotonic down on my belly.

"Stay !"he says. I can notice a clue of laughter in his tone.

Guided by his hand, the tip of his tool touches me, directly centered on my alternately clenching and relaxing hole. I close my lips on the shrieking that rises in my pharynx at that scrumptious contact. Even now, he will not rush, entering me ever so slowly. The tiny spastic cramp in my groin become hard, more frequent, until it is a honeyed thrill burning within me each time.

"Oh that feels so damn right, darlin'! hold tight on me now. Yeah, like that, that's it. I'm gon na pull back against ya, just a little. No, don't motility. clutches still. Oh yeah, yeah ! Now relax. Ummm."

I can not get it on how it feels to him, but the belittled, precise social movement he makes, the lack of any hurry on his division, only heightens the pleasure I feel inside me. There is a kind of exquisiteness to be obtained from focusing on these petite bits of virtuoso, so unlike from the look sharp frenzy of desire more common to male coupling.

We deepen our joining in increments. There is no thrusting, no pushing, no panting attempt to reach final disco biscuit, since we are not seeking that ecstasy but merely allowing it to make a motion towards and over us. It is as if our look are flowing together to organise one being, so slowly, so imperceptibly that we will never notice when we become one.

I move the tip of my tail, softly rubbing it against the interior of his sura, no hurry, no pressure, just a tender caress. The whisker on his leg tickling my tail deliciously. All the multitude of tiny sensations that would normally be ignored in the usual frenzy of sex are now noticed and appreciated. A half-breathed sigh. A quiet down"mmm"now and then. Perhaps an intake of hint.

He presses in more deeply, touching that tender spot inside me. Even so, there is no rush, no frantic striving, only a tighter longer-lasting spasming inside me, a growing joy that comes by itself, without any effort on my part.

His cock twitches. He is feeling it too, this insistence that is not atmospheric pressure, the round flowing and building seemingly by itself. My balls are pressed tight against the fundament of my twitching yearning penis. My intact consciousness contracts down to concenter on this howling need for release.

Relax, relax. No hurry, I tell myself. This wanting is itself a sharp sweet joy of its own.

"Touch yourself, darlin ’,"he says."I wan na watch you do it. I wan na see you come."

Eagerly, I obey, set to set my own rhythm and get myself off immediately. But his hand closes over mine before I even start."Slowly, Elf."

I groan, but do as he asks. The awareness of his gaze upon me in the flickering candle flame no longer causes me embarrassment or shame. Instead, it only serves to increase my luxuria. I want his optic upon me. I want him to watch. I want him to see how he is making me feel.

When finally my discharge comes, it is hardly more delicious than what it has been all along, except that now I am aware of the Jonathan Swift sloping trough of fluid through the inside of my penis, not with the common hard jolt spasms but only as a flow that ebbs and strengthens over and over as it runs out of my body. I squirm just a little, my back trying to arch as my fundament tightens around Logan's waistline. He sucks in a breath, his groin pressing harder against me, his nut just below my opening, as if they want to be inside me also.

I can sense the cramp run down his prick, can almost imagine I experience his seeded player flowing copiously deep inside me. I will it to fleece into me, become a part of me, but I know that is nothing but fond fancy.

Neither of us strike, just resting there as our bodies recover from what we have done and our breathing coming back to normal. He sags forward a bit, his shoulders resting some of his weight on the backs of my thigh. He releases my hips and uses his arms to prop himself up. His question droops forward as his cock softens, gradually retreating from my body. He has to be exhausted, but we can not catch some Z's in this situation.

My idea insists on reminding me that we may not do this again for a longsighted clock time, if ever. Somewhere inside, I cringe at the thinking that Logan will soon be leaving. I can not bear to think of watching him develop to go, much to a lesser extent that final second when he walks out the threshold. But what else can I do ?

A few present moment of thinking provides me with an answer.

I stretch ostentatiously and commence to extricate myself from the tangled carving we have become.

"Aw, Elf, I was about ta declination asleep when ya moved,"comes a logy protest.

"Even you can not kip upright and vithout support,"I point out cheerily.

"Wan na bet ?"

I laugh a little."No. Get up, or at least get into a more comfortable place. I am going to the bathroom."
He lies down and wave up facing me."I'll be waitin'for ya right here, darlin ’. Make it snappy. I need to grab a few hours of sleep while I can."

I do make it snappy, but before I go back, I swallow two of the blue sleeping pills from our medication cabinet, knowing I will lie awake for what is left of the night agonizing over the coming morning otherwise, while he will waken up at sunrise and be unquiet to go.

I sit on the side of the bed."Logan ?"

"Yeah ?"

"Do me one last favour : let me fall asleep in your limb and do not avaken me vhen you leave."

"Good idea. But are ya sure that's what ya want ?"

"Ja."

He opens his sleeve, inviting me to lie beside him as usual.

As I curl up with the front of his eubstance against my cover for what might be the last sentence, I lean tightlipped and whisper into his ear."Go, my beloved. Gott sei mit dir."

God be with you. And I beg You, dear Divine, guide him back safely to me.

For what seems geezerhood, we lie there together in silence. Everything has already been said and we have run out of words. Eventually, the dormancy pill takes over and I drift off.

When I awake the keep abreast morning, Logan is gone.





GERMAN transformation percentage 1

Was ist los ? What's wrong ?

Halt's Maul ! Shut up !
( Vulgar form. sledgehammer means the backtalk of an animal, not a human being. )

Warum hast du das getan ? Why did you do this ?

nein, bitte no, please

Dummkopf silent person. Stupid.

Du hast recht. You are right.


GERMAN version role 2

Entschuldigung. amnesty me.

Mein Gott My God

Nein ! ! O Gott nein ! Kurt, bitte —
No ! ! O God no ! Kurt, please -
mein Herr Sir/Master

Mord, Vergnügen, and Verzweiflung
Murder, pleasure, and desperation

Nur nicht verzweifeln. Only do not despair.

Liebling Darling/sweetheart


GERMAN TRANSLATION contribution 3

Mein Gott My God

Scheisse ! son of a bitch !

Mein Freund My champion

Bitte Please

Auf Wiedersehen, lieber Kurt. so long, dear Kurt

Alles ist weg. Everything is gone.



GERMAN translation component part 4

Gott sei mit dir. May God be with you.


chronicle ARC - In fiat

Something a niggling Different
As the Twig is hang
Pray for Us sinner
With Nothing on My Tongue
You Win, Elf
Hell Hath No fury