Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the X-Men franchise. This is just for fun.
Warning: This is going to be a very dark fic and more than likely WON'T have a happy ending. Contains kidnapping, torture, mental & physical abuse, rape, violence, substance abuse, self harm and threats of child abuse. Mainly slash, with very small amounts of het. Erik/Charles & since it's set in the world of prostitution, some Charles/others & Erik/others. You have been warned.
A/N: I've never written Cherik before (though I love to read it) but this idea came to me and I just couldn't make it work in any of the fandom's I usually write in and Cherik seems to suit this kind of darkness so here we are.
THE HOSTAGE HEART
"See you tomorrow my friend." Charles Xavier said, grinning at his friend Michael. "And don't let Rose keep you up all night." He added with a chuckle. "I'm not letting you borrow my notes this time if you're late for lecture again."
"Yeah yeah, that's what you say now but you know you just give them to me in the end anyway, because you love me."Charles laughed and shook his head.
"You keep telling yourself that you arrogant arse, but I mean it this time. Don't be late."
He turned away and started down the corridor. Somewhere behind him he heard a soft chuckle and a mumbled 'whatever' before the door clicked shut. He was still chuckling to himself as he rounded the corner and moved into the stairwell which lead down to floor on which his own dorm was located. It was only a short journey, and one he'd made so often he hardly had to think about it, his feet just carried him as if on auto pilot or whatever the pedestrian equivalent might be. Maybe that's why the sound of shuffling footsteps behind him didn't really register in his brain until it was too late and suddenly there was an arm around his throat, squeezing tightly, making it difficult to breathe and difficult to think.
The last thing he felt before he passed out was the sharp stabbing pain of a needle puncturing his skin as his attacker injected something into his neck.
When he came to his head was pounding, his throat was dry, he felt sick to his stomach, every muscle in his body ached and he was bloody freezing.
He groaned, somewhat disorientated , trying to push himself up on shaky arms and that was when the cool air ghosting across his lower body alerted him to the fact that he was naked.
Fuck. Why was he naked? What the Hell was going on? Where was he? Who had taken him and why? What did they want from him? What were they going to do? A draught reminded him he was naked and that sick feeling in the pit of his stomach began to rise.
No no no no. This wasn't happening, it couldn't be. It couldn't.
His eyes flew open in panic, afraid of what he might see but the room was pitch black, he couldn't see a bloody thing and somehow that made the overwhelming sense of dread he felt that much worse. Blood was rushing in his ears, muffling the noises around him, disorienting him even more, yet still he was dimly aware the sound of hushed, terrified sobs. Too many and too varied to be just his. He wasn't alone, there were others here with him.
As his brain tried to process this information, to figure out what it meant, a door swung open with a loud clang and a brilliant bright light flooded the darkened room, stinging his eyes and temporarily blinding him. He bought an arm up instinctively to shield himself from it and when his eyes began to adjust he found he could just make out a tall, imposing figure standing in the doorway.
"On your fucking feet." A heavily accented, Russian perhaps Charles couldn't be sure, voice demanded. When no one moved, the voice repeated it's demand, louder. "I SAID GET ON YOUR FEET! IF YOU DO NOT DO AS YOU ARE TOLD YOU WILL BE PUNISHED!"
The threat made Charles shiver, he didn't want to think about what the punishment might be and he certainly didn't want to find out so he reluctantly did as instructed and stood up, cupping his hands in front of his groin to cover his nakedness. As he glanced around the room he saw there were a dozen or so others who'd been confined with him, boys and girls. Most were around his age, a couple maybe a little younger, it was hard to tell, but they were all naked, and all every bit as scared as Charles.
Half leaning, half sitting on the edge of his polished mahogany desk, Erik Lehnsherr poured himself a scotch from the decanter at his side and took a slow luxurious sip.
"How many more are there?" He asked his associate.
"This will be the last three boss." The Russian said, handing over the last of the files. Erik didn't bother to open them. Azazel opened the office door and gestured to one of his men to bring the last three kids inside.
Each slender body was naked, each shackled at the hands and feet, each one chained to the next by a collar around their necks. Once they were lined up before him Erik gave them each a cursory glance. The first, a red haired boy in his late teens, was lightly freckled and a bit too skinny for Erik's liking though not unpleasant to look at. The second, another boy, same approximate age, was more to Erik's taste. Brunette, pretty blue eyes, skinny but not as skinny as the redhead. The third was blonde. A girl… a young girl. Not much more than thirteen he'd guess. If she was even that.
He smacked the files down on his desk, put his glass down next to them and pushed himself up to a standing position, glaring at the girl with barely concealed disgust.
"What the fuck is this?" He hissed pointing at her but turning his glare towards Azazel.
"Sorry boss, she was… unexpected. She came from nowhere. She saw us, we had to bring her."
"You didn't think to just shoot her?"
"I thought it might attract unwanted attention. And I thought you might find a use for her anyway. Maybe Marko?"
Erik mulled the idea over in his mind for a few moments.
"Hmmm." He eyed the tearful, trembling girl again. "What's your name girl?"
"R…Raven." She answered through tears.
"And how old are you Raven?"
"T…twelve." Through more tears.
"Twelve. She's a little old, for Marko. He generally prefers them in single figures. She's small though." He sighed thoughtfully. "I suppose he might take her, if the price is right."
The brunette opened his mouth to say something but Azazel crept up behind him and silenced him with a hand over his mouth and growl against his ear.
"I recommend silence boy." He indicated the array of whips and crops which adorned the wall behind the desk. The brunette went still and the Russian released his hold.
Erik passed the brunette without even a glance and moved straight to the redhead.
"Name." He demanded.
"Sean." The boy answered timidly.
"How old are you?"
"Nineteen?" Erik raised an eyebrow and took a closer look at the naked form in front of him. "You look younger, which is not necessarily a bad thing." He moved behind the boy and ran a hand over his buttocks, squeezing gently and chuckling to himself when the boy didn't flinch quite as much as he'd expected him to. "Interesting." He said, moving back around to the front. "You've had a cock in your ass before, haven't you?" He asked, already knowing the answer. Sean's blush was very noticeable on his pale skin and it made his freckles stand out. He just nodded shamefully as a tear rolled down his cheek. "Good, that makes things easier… for me."
Now Erik came to stand in front of the brunette.
"Name." He demanded, as he had with Raven and Sean. The brunette did not answer. Erik sighed. "Don't be difficult boy, it's been a very long day and I'm really not in the mood to put up with it. Tell me your name." Still no answer came from the brunette, he just stared at Erik defiantly. "Fine. Then we'll just do this the hard way. Azazel, take down my crop."
Azazel moved towards the rear wall and reached for a shiny black leather riding crop.
"Charles. My name is Charles." The brunette answered hurriedly, eyes wide with terror as the Russian moved closer, crop in hand.
"That's better." Erik said, fixing the boy with a cruel smirk. "And how old are you?"
"Eighteen." Charles murmured nervously, never taking his eyes off the crop as Erik took it from the other man's hands. "Now tell me Charles, have you ever been fucked by a man before like Sean here has?" Erik didn't give the boy a chance to answer the question before he pressed himself up tight against his body and reached behind him to grab his ass. Instinctively Charles jerked away from the touch, unwittingly pushing his own body tighter against the other mans and blushing furiously when he felt his hardness digging into his hip. Erik's smirk grew wider and he shifted his hips just a little, letting the boy feel him, letting him learn what a real man felt like when he was aroused. Charles squirmed, trapped between the two unwelcome touches. "No, I don't think you have. Hmmm… I bet you've never had a cock in that pretty mouth of yours either." The flush on Charles' cheeks deepened and tears began to form in his eyes as he shook his head. "You must prefer women then. You like the feeling of full firm breasts beneath your hands and a slippery wet pussy around your eager young cock."
Though his eyes were closed, deliberately avoiding anyone's gaze, tears streamed down the boys face. Erik could swear he was blushing all over and he couldn't help but smile to himself.
"Well well. I do believe young Charles here is an honest to God virgin Azazel."
"A rare treasure. He will fetch a good price." The Russian replied with a smirk that matched Erik's.
"Indeed he will." He took a step back then, the tone of his voice switching from cruel amusement to something colder, more business like. "Get Hank to check all of them over, then find them rooms. This one…" He waved in Sean's general direction. "Can get straight to work in the morning and I'll start arrangements to have this one auctioned." He nodded towards Charles.
"What about this one?" Azazel queried, drawing his boss's attention back to the little girl.
"Shit." He muttered. "I forgot about her." He sighed, then answered. "When you're done with Hank get Marko on the phone for me. Maybe we can come to some sort of an arrangement."
"No!" Charles cried out suddenly, surprising both Erik and Azazel with his unsolicited outburst. "You can't do that. Please. She's just a baby. You can't."
Erik glared at the boy furiously and backhanded him across the jaw. There was a loud crack. Charles hissed in pain and fell to his knees. Either side of him, Raven and Sean stumbled as the collars around their necks were yanked. Erik crouched before Charles and wrapped his hand around his throat and said in a low, menacing growl
"I can, and will do whatever I want with you or her or anyone else here and never you forget it. This is my home and my business and you and Sean and dear sweet little Raven are my property. Is that clear?" He tightened his grip on the boys throat, choking the air out of him. There was a depth of fear in his eyes that made Erik thrill but that earlier defiance still remained too and he knew this boy was going to take some work if he was to break him. He continued to glare at him, watching as his face twisted.
"You sick bastard." Charles rasped hoarsely as he fought desperately to take a breath.
"You have no idea boy." The boy spat in his face. Erik shot him a look somewhere between a snarl and a grin. Oh he was really going to enjoy breaking this one. "Azazel. Remove his collar and get those two out of here. Charles and I are going to have a little… chat, about the rules. And the punishment for breaking them."