The Gift

disclaimer: Except for a couple OC's, all characters are the sole property of Marvel Comics. We expect to recieve no monetary benefit from this story and it is meant for entertainment purposes only.

Authors' Note: This story is co-written by Dizi and Jaenelle Angelline, both good fanfic authors in their own right. It is posted here at the BDSM Library under Jaenelle's account because Dizi doesn't yet have one. Reviews and feedback can be made through the story review/ratings forum, and also the Authors can be contacted at:

Jaenelle Angelline/jaeangel: baejmaminski@peoplepc.com

Dizi: Nedrane@msn.com

This is only the first chapter of what will be a long work. More chaptes will follow if the interest is present. Thank you for reading our story, enjoy the writing, and as always, feedback is appreciated!

The Gift

by Dizi and Jaenelle Angelline

Chapter 1

"...it is, of course, a mistake. The Genoshan mutates were conditioned to rely on their masters. They cannot take care of themselves." The voice was loud, arrogant, and quite sure of its veracity .

Charles had had enough. He'd been listening to this conversation with one ear while carrying on his own conversation with his acquaintances. They were at a UN conference concerning the sudden recent downfall of the Genoshan human government, and the struggle of the mutants enslaved there to regain control of their lives. He was a believer that it would eventually be possible for the mutants to become a free, self-governing nation. This man, though…

He excused himself from the group discussion he was currently involved in, and rolled his wheelchair across the space between his table and the arrogant speaker's table. "Dr. Gatlin, isn't it? Charles Xavier." he introduced himself, shaking the man's hand. He didn't know him well and would usually avoid him, but felt the need to refute his statement. There was something about the man that he found distasteful, though he wasn't entirely sure why.

"Yes, Dr. Micheal Gatlin. I've heard of you, Prof. Xavier. Pleased to meet you." He made a space for Xavier at his table and he slid his wheelchair into it.

"I couldn't help overhearing your words. You believe that their conditioning has become so firm that they cannot break the mental ‘mold' they have been forced to assume, am I correct?” Gatlin nodded. "I believe you're wrong. The Genoshan mutants were once free. After a certain period of adjustment, they will create a society where they will again live free lives." Charles had faith and hope that this was true, and looked forward to seeing it happen in the near future.

"I have heard of your work, Xavier. You may be correct for some of the newer ones, those who were only recently enslaved, but my research shows learned behavior plays a large role in a person's psyche. Someone who has lived the majority of their life in a certain manner is not able to do otherwise later in life and will revert to the learned behavior. Especially if that behavior was previously a matter of their survival."

"I cannot agree." Charles shook his head. "It has always been my conviction that, given a chance, people will change for the better."

Gatlin's head tilted to the side. "Ah, that is the question, isn't it? Who decides what is better?"

"They will need to determine that for themselves. 'Better' is a subjective, it's different for everyone."

"But will they be able to understand what is better for them? , As I understand it, one reason why they were called 'mutates' instead of mutants is because they have been conditioned in several different ways. Conditioning is a very stong factor. Consider what some would call 'sexual deviants'. They live their life a certain way and cannot nor do they desire to live another. Someone raised in that manner learns to live that way and it is part of them. They are not able to change it and don't want to. When asked they would tell you that."

"Sexuality is outside my expertise." Charles responded. "I am not qualified to comment on it."

"Really." A thoughtful smile played on Gatlin's lips. "I have been told some of the mutates were made into sexual playthings. You might look into it and the behaviors involved."

"Perhaps I should." Charles admitted thoughtfully.

Gatlin rose. "I must go, I see a colleague I must speak to." The two men shook hands again. "But we will speak of this again. I know of a way to show you what I mean."

Charles watched him go while surreptitiously wiping his palm on his pant leg. He didn't like Dr. Michael Gatlin. The man might have a point, but he honestly didn't like him. His psyche just felt... wrong.

Pushing aside his thoughts, he mustered a pleasant smile and turned to rejoin his interrupted conversation.

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Charles tried to put the conversation from his mind, but found himself coming back to it over the next week or so. He himself had never been 'into' alternative sexuality, but knew some of his students had explored it. Most notably, Remy and Logan had experienced it and would be quite knowledgeable on the subject. Also, it was well-known that Warren and Betsy like to play 'games'. In a mansion with so many people living in it, it was hard to keep something like that private. Regardless of the commonality of the knowledge, he simply couldn't bring himself to ask any of them his questions, since he had always tried to maintain a certain distance on more personal subjects.

He finally started trying to improve his understanding by been quietly searching for sources on the internet and making an appointment to consult with Emma Frost per her experiences at the Hellfire Club when he received a visit from Michael Gatlin.

It was Jean who answered the knock on the door.

"Hello." the dark-haired man said pleasantly. She had a feeling he was sizing her up and didn't like it, didn't like him. There was a sliminess, a distinctive, unpleasant flavor to the man's psychic scent. A young woman stood quietly beside him. "I'm Dr. Michael Gatlin. I would like to see Prof. Xavier, if you please."

"Do you have an appointment?" she asked, knowing he didn't. Charles would have mentioned expecting visitors.

"Oh, nothing so formal," he smiled. "I have something for him. It's a quick, informal visit."

*Charles?* Jean called mentally. *You have visitors. Shall I show them in?*

*Go ahead, Jean.* he responded. *Have them wait in the hall and we'll discuss them when you get here.*

"Please follow me and I'll see if he has time you." Leading them through the foyer, she gestured to a bench outside Charles study. "Please wait here."

"Certainly." Gatlin seated himself immediately, leaning back into the plushy seat and crossing his legs comfortably. The girl he had brought stayed standing beside him, had not lifted her eyes from the floor since she had walked in. A quick psychic probe revealed nothing but a strange, intense focus on the man sitting on the bench. Still puzzling over this, Jean headed for Xavier's office.

Going in, she shut the door gently behind her. "There's a man named Michael Gatlin here who says he has something for you. Do you know him? I get strange psychic impressions from him and his female companion."

"A woman?" he frowned. He hadn't considered that Gatlin would have contacted anyone else about their conversation.

"A young one, strawberry blonde, green eyes, perhaps a little shorter than I am. He seems to be ignoring her completely, but she's so totally focused on him it's… strange,” Jean admitted. “I've never felt anything like that before.”

"She doesn't sound familiar but perhaps she's a colleague of his. It can be hard to tell." He shrugged. Nothing to do now if the man had been indiscrete. "Show him in and we'll find out."

"Are you sure? I don't like him for some reason." Jean shuddered, but she couldn't find the words to describe the wrongness she felt from his mind.

"Neither do I, but the sooner I see him the sooner he leaves." He didn't admit that he was curious as to what he man had to say and what he wanted to give him. Perhaps a book on the subject?

"Whatever you think best." she went to the door and held it open. "Prof. Xavier will see you now, Dr. Gatlin."

"Thank you." he said politely and turned a harsh face to the girl. "Sit and don't move." he ordered harshly, his tone of voice completely incongruous to the genial nod he gave Jean on the way inside.

Shocked, Jean looked at the girl who had immediately done as she'd been told. She had given Charles an accurate description but hadn't mentioned how lovely the girl was. She definitely looked too young to be a colleague of either man. And surely a colleague wouldn't wear four-inch stiletto heels?

*Scott?* she called mentally to her husband through their psychic link. *Something strange is going on. Would you and the others come to the foyer outside Charles office, please?*

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"Prof. Xavier, good to see you again." Micheal shook Charles hand. "I don't have time, so I'll get straight to the point . I have thought a lot about our previous conversation."

"I have found myself doing the same." Charles admitted to him. "Jean said you have something for me. A publishing of yours explaining your research further, perhaps?"

"No, no, no, I have something better." he said enthusiastically. "I have brought you an example."

"Excuse me?" he was not sure he understood.

"A good example of conditioning." he explained. "I'm making it a gift to you. Don't thank me. I want you to observe and get an understanding of the subject. It's quite docile and will follow instructions to a tee. Exactly. You'll need to be explicit because it cannot interpret meaning."

"I don't believe I fully understand you." Charles mind had gone blank. The man couldn't be saying what Charles thought he was saying. He could NOT mean...

"Come, I'll show it to you." he gestured to the closed door. "I really don't have much time, another appointment you know."

Gatlin opened the door with Charles reluctantly following, just as the rest of the mansion's residents arrived.

"Charles." Scott nodded deferentially.

"What's up, Chuck?" Logan asked, leaning against the wall.

"Who your pretty friend, eh?" Remy asked, winking at the girl who hadn't moved a muscle since being given her instructions, while Rogue glared at him.

"It does have a somewhat pleasing exterior, I suppose." Gatlin smiled charmingly at them. "Not very intelligent, though. As I mentioned, Charles, you'll have to be quite explicit in your instructions, I'm afraid. Clear and forceful. It's quite stupid, in fact."

The air seemed to stir slightly as Ororo's hands clenched. Remy's eyes glowed redly, and he tensed. Logan's muscles contracted as he snapped upright from his slouch against the wall. Warren swallowed hard; Betsy raised one dark eyebrow. Jean's eyes flashed, and she went rigid with anger; she felt Scott's temper spike, though he showed no outward change. Dr. Gatlin, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice the offense he generated at calling the young woman 'it'.

"Stand." he ordered her. When she again immediately followed his instructions, he removed the long brown duster from her. She wore a sheer negligee and the stillettos. Nothing else.

Her skin was a clear porcelain color, as beautiful and as fragile-looking as a real doll's; her eyes, though she kept them lowered to the floor, were a clear emerald green. Her skin was flawless, blemish-free except for a scattering of freckles over her shoulders, upper chest, upper arms, and several on her small, pert nose. She was only a little shorter than Jean, but the stilettos made her look taller.

"Wow." Bobby's eyes were riveted on the female figure before him and his face showed his surprise along with everyone else. Though they couldn't seem to say anything, he managed to get out with a touch of awe, "Look at all the freckles."

"Yes, it is a pity about the freckles." Gatlin sighed. "They're its only true physical flaw. Oh well, nothing is perfect. Turn around slowly." he ordered her.

She turned and revealed her backside. It was covered in welts from neck to calf, some scabbed over. The women looked horrified and most of the men angry. Charles felt his mouth drop open, and instantly closed it.

"As you can see, you don't need to worry about being gentle with it. I believe it to be some sort of mutant as such things seem to simply disappear without a trace after a week at most. I thought this might interest you, Charles, because of your work with mutants. The government wanted it but decided that it's behavior was detrimental to their purposes. The were going to breed it but it doesn't seem able to become pregnant for some reason."

Too shocked to speak, Charles simply stared at the man, certain he was insane.

"This is your new master." Gatlin told the girl, gesturing to Charles. She went to him and knelt at his feet, raising her head for the first time and fixing him with those expressionless green eyes. Jean sensed her entire focus shift to Xavier, though a tiny portion of the girl's awareness remained on Dr. Gatlin. "As I said, I have an appointment. Enjoy, I'll be in touch at some point in the future to see how you're doing with it."

With that he left, chuckling to himself at the looks on their faces.

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"What is the meaning of this, Charles?!" Ororo demanded.

"Yeah, Chuck, if ya were hard up ya shoulda said somethin'." Logan gestured to the girl still kneeling beside the wheelchair. "Ya didn't need ta go ta extemes. Coulda got ya someone if that's what ya wanted."

"He said he had a 'gift'," Charles said in a dazed voice. "I never dreamed..."

"What kind of person is he to give away a human being?" Jean demanded, enraged.

Scott said nothing, but his face showed his outrage now the man had gone. Though no one could see his eyes, they were fixed on the girl. Xavier didn't comment on it but thought he caught a hint of... something else?

"A toy." Remy said, disgustedly. "She a toy. Dey no fun. Remy outgrew dem long time ago."

"A toy?" Bobby asked confused. "I don't get it."

"You don' listen. He explained." Remy pointed at the impassive woman. "Dat look nice but got no substance. Go to de store and get somet'ing plastic, dey just as fun."

"That's disgustin', Remy." Rogue shook her head in disappointment at him. "She's a person, not a thing. No matter what HE said." She jerked her thumb at the closed door.

"Huh." He crossed his arms, knowing she wouldn't understand and hoping she didn't notice the bulge in his pants. Just because he didn't like situation didn't mean the sight of a practically naked female didn't affect him. Looking around he saw all the other men were in the same state. He knew a few of them at least could see the possibilities she represented.

"She is what she is." Logan shrugged. "You gonna share, Charlie?"

"Um, I suppose it would be alright, if she has no objections." he responded doubtfully, not sure what Logan would do to the girl.

Logan's eyes gleamed as he looked at the woman on the floor. He knew she wouldn't object. She had obviously been trained better than that. His mind was running wild with lust, and he'd gotten stiff the moment the stranger had said 'you don't need to worry about being gentle with it'.

Like Charles, Scott was at a loss, so said the first thing that came to mind. "It would be best if you put some clothes on, Miss."

She didn't move, continued staring at Charles. Regardless of what kneeling on the hard floor must be doing to her knees and circulation in her legs, regardless of whatever pain she might still be feeling from the scabbed welts and cuts on her back, she showed no sign, no expression, of what she might be thinking or feeling. And Charles couldn't bring himself to look into her mind deeply enough to find out.

"Hey, ah, what's your name?" Bobby asked.

She still didn't move.

"Dey don' listen." Remy said to Logan, nodding to Bobby and the others. Even Betsy, who had experience with something like this, looked puzzled.

"They're tenderfoots, Gumbo." Logan turned to Xavier. "She ain't gonna do nothin' but sit there 'til ya tell her to do somethin'. She's yers and belongs ta only you, won't respond ta nobody else 'less ya tell her otherwise."

He gulped. "What's your name?" His voice was stready, but inside he simply didn't know what to do with this situation, or with this girl.

She looked confused at the question and got an unhappy look on her face. Her first instruction and she couldn't do what he wanted of her.

"Dat's jus' great. Mon Dieu." Remy swore in French. "She a toy, alright. She don' have a name. Dat why he call her 'it'."

"Maybe not." Logan said consideringly. "She coulda forgot it or she coulda jus' buried it if she been livin' without one long 'nuff, but it could still be inside her somewhere."

"What de difference? Mean she still got no name." Remy insisted.

It had taken awhile but Hank finally got Logan and Remy's implications. This had possibilities. A thoughtful look on his face and a gleam in his eye, he suggested, "By my understanding, in order for her to interact with us in any manner you will need to instruct her to do so. Even for such occurrences as passing food at mealtimes. It would eventually become tedious for you. Perhaps a general order to do as we say would be best for 'Freckles' here."

"'Freckles'," Charles murmured, "at least it fits her." Despite his inclinations and though it shamed him, he felt a bit of possessiveness towards the girl. But if she was going to live here for the foreseeable future Hank was right and he wouldn't be able to take the time to order her to do every little thing. He felt slightly apprehensive as he looked directly at her impassive face, careful not to look elsewhere, and said, "You are to cooperate with all residents and speak when spoken to. In fact, I insist you speak your mind and ask questions."

She again looked confused. This was not what she was used to. No one had even touched her yet and she was usually put to work immediately. Her mouth opened timidly, but no sound came out.

"Yes?" Charles encouraged.

"They-they are all masters?" she whispered, looking at the floor.

He hesitated and turned to Logan for guidance, who shook his head. "There can be only one Master, an' that's you. The rest o' us'll be ‘Sir' or ‘Ma'am'."

"No," Charles told her, feeling a sense of relief, "but you are to do as you are told and respond appropriately."

Feeling a part of the girl's mind expand to encompass an awareness of the rest of them, but still mainly focus on Charles, Jean closed her own mind off. She was overwhelmed by the strangeness of the situation and felt sorry for Charles.

Stepping forward, Ororo held out a hand to assist Freckles from the floor. "Come, child. I will help you find some clothes."

She looked to Charles who nodded reassuringly. She got up silently from the floor and followed Ororo out of the foyer, walking gracefully on those awkwardly high heels.

Watching them leave, Jean asked, "Where should we put her?"

"In the room beside mine." he said thinking quickly as he could under the circumstances. "It has a connecting door in case she needs me."

“A word, Professor?” Hank said, stopping Charles before he could retreated to his study. “When our resident weather goddess completes her outfitting, perhaps she might be brought down to the medlabs where I can examine her completely and run some tests? I must admit to some curiosity concerning our new guest.”

"Jean has gone to the kitchen to finish dinner. I believe it would be best to wait until afterwards." He smiled at the blue-furred doctor. "I know it might take some time and you won't want to be interrupted. Also, a meal may help her relax with us."

"Excellent, I appreciate your thoughtfulness. I would indeed most likely become engrossed in my work. I will take time now to ready the lab for after dinner." Hank said, and headed off down the hall.

The foyer quickly emptied, until only Logan and Remy were left.

"Huh." Remy was curious to see how long it would take the others to figure out what had just happened. "A toy."

"Yeah, I know, Gumbo." Logan said after the others had left. "But toys got their uses, and Blue looks like he's got some ideas jus' like me." He looked at Remy, and smiled as he saw the bulge in the other man's pants. “An' from the looks o' it, so do you.”

Disgusted with himself and ashamed of his reaction, Remy turned and strode out of the hallway, heading outside where he could smoke in peace and think. It wasn't the first time he'd 'played' with a toy. Wouldn't be the first time he'd had a toy under him in bed. Knowing he was weak when it came to anything sexual, especially since he couldn't have sex with the one woman he wanted to, he knew he would probably play with this girl and have her under him. But that didn't mean he liked it.

He'd been submissive and dominant, all parties willing, but a toy was different. Unlike a slave or pet, a toy didn't acknowledge pain or pleasure, it was all the same to them. They were something to be used, simply there, accepting anything done to them. He had learned the difference between a slave and a toy the hard way before he understood that. He had almost killed one, and at the time he had only been playing a game. After that it became serious, and he made sure to learn all the ins and outs.

For Logan, he knew it was different. It had never been a game to him, or not for a very long time. The man had been right about the ideas running through his head though, and it filled him with self-disgust. He would use the girl, he knew that, but it wouldn't change the fact he didn't like toys. He pitied them.

Remy smoked several cigarrettes slowly, getting control of himself, before heading in to dinner.