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Club Hellfire


Loud industrial techno music greeted the X-Men Black team as they entered the posh nightspot in downtown New York. Club Hellfire was an exclusive nightclub, it’s members some of the richest and most powerful people in the world, several of them mutants, thus giving the club a reputation for being dark and bizarre. Upon arrival, Ororo briefly pondered Xavier’s connection with these people, as they were let in immediately and greeted by name at the door.
“Mein Gott!” Kurt exclaimed, as soon as they were inside. He stood statue still, looking around the two story club. There were chains on the wall, glass tables and cages hanging from the ceiling, filled with beautiful, exotic dancers grinding to the music, hands wrapped around the bars or caressing their own flesh. One of the dancers swooshed her furry tail from side to side and blew Kurt a kiss. Blushing furiously beneath his silky fur he turned away.
“Told ya this place rocked!” Alison smiled, flashing her tongue ring. Her spiked hair glittered under the flashing lights and she raised her hands, letting out a stream of bright colors. “Hell yeah!” she hollered.
“Table or booth?” They were asked.
“Booth.” Ororo answered, her blue eyes covering the room, taking in every detail. She noticed a second story balcony that was shielded by reflective glass from prying eyes. Ah, so that’s where the big boys played, she thought with a wry turn of her mouth.
Moving between the men and women who were grinding to the pumping music and pressing provocatively against each other, Ororo and her team made their way to a corner booth, led by a large bouncer in black leather and tribal tattoos all along his bald head. “If you have need of anything, press the button in the center of the table and a member of the staff will attend you.” The large man said in a voice that rumbled like he spoke from a barrel.
“Thanks.” Ororo slid into the booth, still cautiously curious as to their preferential treatment. The bouncer gave her a brief, but appreciative, once over and Ororo felt her face flush slightly.
Ali smiled and winked at her, head bobbing to the music. “So whatdya guys think?”
“Gambit like.” He leaned back, grinning at one of the dancers as she bent over, her face splitting into a smile of her own, upside down, between her long legs.
“Behave.” Ororo laughed. She pinched his thigh playfully.
“Why?” He pinched her back.
“Hmm.” She thought for a moment. “You got me there.”
“This is waaay different,” Kitty said, looking around. She fidgeted in her seat, brushing a stray curl out of her eyes. She had been hesitant to come, certain they would turn her away because of her age, but she had been let in with the others easily, no questions asked. She glanced over at Kurt who was also looking around the room with a look of disbelief still plastered on his handsome face. Why had she never noticed how handsome he was before? Kitty let her eyes wander over Kurt’s sleek form, his dark shirt hugging his athletic torso like a second skin.
Sensing her eyes on him Kurt looked at her and Kitty blushed cherry red. “Very different.” Kurt agreed. He was not used to being in a place where he wasn’t the strangest attraction. But here, it was obvious that society’s standard oddities were not odd at all. Giving credence to that that thought, a leather winged bat-like mutant swooped from the railing, swirling in the air. “Too bad Warren did not wish to join us.”
“Yeah, bummer.” Ali rolled her eyes. “This really isn’t his kinda place. He‘s more the country club, tea and crumpets set.” Alison pushed the button on the table. Immediately a waitress appeared, her green lips parted in the pseudo-friendly smile of people who are paid to be nice. “A bottle of your finest.” Ali ordered.
“Finest what?” The waitress asked patiently.
Ali frowned. “Huh. Don’t know. Tell ya what, just bring us the most expensive drinks ya got.”
“With pleasure.” The waitress disappeared through the crowd.
Ororo raised her eyebrows. “Ali, what are you doing?”
“Celebrating. That is the plan, right, boss?”
Ororo looked at Gambit, beyond happy at having him back in her life. “Yeah, that’s the plan.”
Gambit smiled in return, then turned his gaze out across the dance floor, a wicked grin spreading across his supremely handsome face. “Come, padnat, it’s been to long since dis Cajun ‘eld you in ‘is arms. Let’s dance.” He rose quickly, tugging her arm.
“Hang on, Hang on.” Ororo laughed, maneuvering her way out of the booth. “Coming?” She asked the others.
“You bet.” Ali rose from her seat, stepping on the table top and jumping down beside them.
“Kurt? Kitty?”
“Uh, no I’m not much of a dancer,” Kurt said.
Kitty looked disappointed, but added, “I’ll stay here with Kurt.”
“No, Kitty, you should have fun. Go dance,” he insisted.
“I will have fun,” Kitty smiled, “right here.”
“Suit yourselves.” Gambit pulled Ororo into the fray of throbbing bodies.
Once on the floor Ororo immediately lost herself in the pounding rhythm surrounding her, her body moving like an extension of the music. She raised her arms over her head and Gambit pressed himself close, moving with her in flawless harmony.
Some things never change, he thought. The two of them so familiar with each other after years apart, like no time had passed. Then Ororo turned and bent, shaking to the beat and Gambit’s lips quirked. And some things do, he mentally corrected, noticing how nicely Ororo had filled out in their six years apart. No longer the long limbed, gangly athlete she was at sixteen, instead now she was a long legged, voluptuously curved woman with a body many would kill for. Her strong and lithe figure combined with her exceptionally beautiful face, startling blue eyes and the dramatic contrast of her snowy hair and brown skin made her quite possibly the most stunning woman Gambit had ever known. He chuckled a little at that. Leave it to him to turn the most attractive woman on the planet into his sister.
At a young age Ororo had confessed to him that she was in love with him and desperately wanted to be his wife. Even at her tender age of eight Gambit had found her hard to refuse, but in his twelve year old wisdom he told her that they were family, and family was forever, but marriages fell apart. Ororo had immediately decided she would much rather be his family, and had never again wanted to be more than his sister. And brother and sister they were, Gambit knew, in all ways but biological; not that DNA amounted to much, he surmised. He never knew his real parents, having been abandoned at birth because of his devil eyes. In every way that mattered Stormy was his sister, his padnat, and the best friend he had ever had. He still did not know the reasons behind her vanishing act six years ago, but he was determined to find out. He had been terribly hurt by her leaving, but she had left a note and that had alleviated some of the pain.
Don’t look for me.
I will be back for you, Remy.
On my honor.
I love you , brother. Be well and stay quick.
Stormy
As the years passed he had feared she would never return, and in truth, she hadn’t. It had been Xavier that had called Jean-Luc, not Storm. At first the leader of the Thieves Guild had dismissed the Professor outright, but Xavier had been persistent, telling them that he had something they were looking for. He had not revealed much over the phone, but a face to face meeting and a photo of Storm had sealed the deal. Gambit would work with the X-Men, until such time that Ororo left. Anything to have her back, Gambit had told Jean-Luc, and he had meant it. He would do anything for her.
“Why so serious?” Ororo asked, leaning close so she could be heard over the music.
Gambit flashed her his trademark devil-may-care grin and said, “Gambit is never serious, padnat. You know better.”
Ororo nodded, her solemn expression not changing. “Yes, Remy. I do know better.”
“Dance now, Stormy. Talk later.” He spun her around.
Ororo laughed. “You win.”

The Balcony

“What’s so interesting, Shinobi?”
Shinobi Shaw, son of the Hellfire’s Inner circle’s Black King raised one dark eyebrow. He slowly sipped his expensive Dom, looking at the dark haired female across from him with carefully calculated disdain. “My interests need not concern you, Tessa. You are my father’s confidant and advisor, I seek neither from you.”
“Yes, Shinobi, I am aware of your opinion. However, as you stated, I am your father’s confidant and he wishes me to keep an eye on you.”
“My babysitter? Tell me, Tessa, did he instruct you to see all my needs fulfilled?” Shinobi let his hand rest casually on his thigh, near his groin.
Tessa’s lip curled in a sneer. “In your dreams, Shaw.”
“Ahh, but I believe my dreams will not be of a woman I have mounted more times than I care to count, but instead will be filled with snow haired seductresses, giving me oral pleasure.”
Once again he gazed out the two way mirrored wall down at the dance floor below. Tessa looked away as the younger man began to rub himself through the expensive silk of his suit, his eyes never leaving the dance floor. Curious she walked over to the window and perused the floor. She found the object of Shinobi’s fantasy easily enough. The woman was damn hard to ignore, with her striking appearance. Tessa heard Shinobi moan as the woman below ran her hands up her own leather clad torso, moving to the music.
“Bring her to me,” he ground out, releasing his hard cock from his pants, stroking it furiously now.
Tessa snorted. “I don’t think so, Shinobi. In case your lust has blinded you, that woman is hardly alone.”
Shinobi looked out over the crowd again, watching as a tall, good looking man circled his snow haired fantasy, running his hands along her bare arms. He imagined himself as that man, his grip firmer on his flesh. His mystery woman smiled playfully at the man, rubbing her sweet ass against him as they danced. Shinobi came in his open palm, shuddering against his hand.
“Finished so soon?” Tessa asked scathingly, tossing him a napkin.
“Hardly. Find out who she is.”
“Why?”
“Because, Tessa, I believe I just found my new Queen.”





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