Haruka's Fanfiction

Author's note: This takes place a couple of months after the X-Men 2 movie. It was originally written for my spanking fanfiction ML. If spanking in fics bothers you, do NOT read further.


In His Place

By Haruka (haruka@ymail.com)

--

This place stinks, St. John Allerdyce thought, his nose wrinkling. He'd never been in jail before. He didn't like it there.

Especially with those sweaty old men leering at him like that. Shouldn't he be in Juvie Hall? He made the mistake of making eye contact with one in the neighboring cell, and he grinned broadly, revealing yellowed, cracked teeth.

"You lonely, sweetheart?" the man drawled. "Why don’cha come on over here and let me see those pretty pouty lips up close?"

John was about to retort, but the guy's cellmate beat him to it.

"You don't want that little freak, Lloyd. Didn't you hear the guard who brought him in call him 'mutie'?"

"That so?" Lloyd's expression changed to one of distaste and he sneered in John's direction. "You're a mutie? What's YOUR power, freak?"

John met his gaze. "Right now I just wish it was the power to block your BO."

Lloyd let loose with a string of curses that John tuned out as he wandered over to peer through the bars into the corridor. Men in other cells who had whistled and catcalled when he was brought in had overheard the conversation. Now when they spotted him, they jeered and joined in on the cursing, inserting 'mutie' every few moments as if that were a curse as well.

For some maybe it was. But Magneto had taught him that he was above all this. These people were jealous and afraid. Afraid because they knew that given half a chance, he might have the power to wipe them all out in a heartbeat.

Of course he couldn't. The cops had taken his lighter, and without that, he was powerless in this place. Anyway, the jeers were better than having them blow kisses at him.

But it had been long enough just being there at all, and the teenager wanted out. The question was, would anyone come for him?

It wasn't a major crime he'd committed ... at first. Just a lame attempt at shoplifting at the mall gone wrong. The security guard was strong, though, and when John couldn't break free from him physically, he'd flashflamed a bystander's burning cigarette tip, conveniently setting the decorative tree he stood under on fire. And the bystander along with it.

The security guard had been shocked momentarily -- long enough for John to break free and run. Unfortunately, the guard had a two-way and used it to call a buddy on the first floor. John was apprehended, cuffed and blindfolded before he had a chance to do anymore damage. They didn't KNOW if he had been responsible for the fire, but people were mutant-happy these days and anyone suspicious was treated accordingly.

He tried not to let that nagging doubt enter his mind again -- the one that questioned whether the adults he'd called would actually come get him out. No one had promised anything, all he'd received was an order to 'sit tight and not cause anymore trouble.'

What choice did he have?

And what if they _did_ come? What would they say about what happened? In the weeks he'd been with them, there had been a few occasions when he knew he'd upset, even angered them, but it was usually short-lived and there seemed to be no hard feelings afterwards. All in all, they were pretty easy-going, for grownups.

Of course, he had never been arrested before, or forced them to set foot in a police station when they were themselves, wanted criminals.

I'm never getting out of here, he realized, a sudden wave of horror washed through him.

The door at the end of the corridor banged open and John moved away from the bars. He was in an empty cell right now -- whether that was because he was underage or they suspected him of being a mutant, he didn't know -- but he knew that could change at any moment and he might be locked up with some lecherous creep or mutant hater. He wasn't sure which would be worse.

John heard the catcalls and whistles start up again, only this time they weren't for him. The cop who had put him in the cell came into view. There was a woman with him -- a beautiful, shapely blonde woman whom John recognized. Relief flooded through him and while he'd felt close to crying a few moments ago, now he wanted to cheer. The Calvary had arrived.

The cop stopped in front of his cell and unlocked it. "Come on, kid," he made a jerking motion with his head, "your mother's here."

John didn't waste any time. He quickly left the cell and locked eyes with the blonde woman. "You're in a lot of trouble, young man," she told him sternly.

The teenager wasn't sure if she was serious or if this was part of the act. Either way, he didn't care. First thing he wanted was to get out of there.

As it turned out, the store he'd stolen from had dropped the charges, so he was free to go. John wondered how they'd accomplished that -- he knew the store was certainly planning to press charges when he was caught. But then, if Raven Darkholme spoke to them looking as she did now, they probably ended up apologizing to HER. Much like the cops were doing. She wasn't happy about him having been put into lock-up with the adults.

"Sorry about that, Ma'am," the Sergeant said. "Where suspected mutants are concerned, Juvie Hall is leery about taking them in case they hurt the other kids. And we _did_ put him in a cell alone."

"I appreciate that," she replied, accepting the envelope that contained John's personal items and passing it to him. He gratefully dug his lighter out of it first and stuck it safely into his pocket. She glanced at him. "Although the very idea of his being a mutant is rather amusing. Lord only knows what trouble he'd get into if it WERE true!"

The Sergeant chuckled appreciatively. "No kidding. Though I'm assuming this boy's in plenty of trouble, anyway, once his daddy gets hold of him."

The blonde eyed John seriously. "No doubt about it."

John frowned. She sounded a little TOO convincing.

--

It wasn’t until they were well away from the police station and had turned down the long private road that would eventually lead home that Raven changed. The blonde hair turned red and shortened, and her clothes vanished, seeming to melt away as they metamorphed into blue skin, decorated with iridescent scales. Her codename was Mystique, and she was a mutant shapeshifter. She turned yellow eyes toward the teenager slouching in the passenger seat beside her. “Explain,” she said.

He shrugged, and that action might have been enough to make her smack him if she hadn’t wanted to hug him instead. The truth was, she’d been scared out of her mind when he called from the police station. It wasn’t the same as any other kid being picked up for shoplifting. Their young Pyro was a mutant like she was, with the ability to manipulate flame. He was also handsome to point of being almost pretty. If one thing didn’t get him hurt in jail, the other certainly would.

But what had really frightened her was the possibility that Magneto might have wanted her to leave him there. He knew Erik Lensherr cared about the child, and was pleased with his willingness to learn everything he had to teach him about mutant superiority. However, if Mystique hadn’t the ability to shapeshift into another guise in order to get him out of jail, the risk of breaking him out would not be one that Magneto would allow her to take.

She tried to steel herself against sentimentality. Right now this kid needed some discipline, if only to ensure his place remained with she and Magneto.

“If you don’t explain to _me_, John, you’ll have to explain to Erik,” she pointed out.

“Look, I don’t know why I did it,” he said finally, turned to face her, and she saw the helplessness in his expression. “For kicks, maybe. I was bored.”

“You’re the one who wanted to go to the mall,” she reminded him.

He pouted. “Yeah, but the mall’s not much fun when you’re alone.”

Not for the first time, Mystique felt a swell of pity for the boy. He hadn’t had any friends his own age since he chose to join she and Magneto rather than staying with the X-Men. And for the most part, he’d been treated like an equal. He seemed to like it that way at first, but she’d been seeing signs of teenage rebellion for a couple of weeks now. He’d always been a smartmouth, and she and Magneto tolerated it as part of his personality, but the occasions when he’d use it with them were becoming more frequent. Deliberate disregard for common sense, such as keeping his powers under wraps unless specifically directed to use them on a mission. Staying out so late that the two adults wondered if he’d actually left and returned to the Xavier Institute.

They didn’t impose rules on him because he _was_ taken on as an equal, but as she and Magneto had discussed before she left for the police station, the time had come for some changes. For his own good, young St. John Allerdyce would have to be put in his place. If he was going to stay with them, they would ALL have to accept the fact that he was still a kid, and kids need boundaries.

Even kid criminals in training.

They eventually turned off the road and drove up the curving driveway outside an old but comfortable-looking two-storey house. One of Magneto's various hideouts. Mystique had suggested this one, figuring it had a bit more of a 'homey' feel to it than some of his previous lairs. She supposed that even back then she was feeling somewhat maternal toward John, even if she did go along with Magneto's gameplan of treating him like an equal. Now she regretted that she hadn't followed her instincts from the outset. He wouldn't be in this mess now if she had.

"Into the house," she told him firmly, and felt John give her a funny look as if to say, 'Where else would I go?' He got out of the car and headed inside, taking the porch steps two at a time. Mystique followed at a slower pace, thinking that John wouldn't have been in so much of a hurry if he'd been present for she and Magneto's earlier conversation.

--

John saw that Magneto was there waiting for them -- or at least that's how it appeared. This man had piqued John's curiosity from the first moment they met. He'd wondered what made him tick. It wasn't long before he realized that Magneto had a high tolerance for attitude so long as he did what he was told on missions. John could deal with that, and he always followed the older mutant's instructions to the letter. But only on missions.

At home was a different matter. There weren't any rules per se, but John still felt like he was rebelling when he stayed out late or flicked his lighter open and closed repeatedly while the adults were talking. Sometimes he did it just to get a reaction, same as he had always done in the past with other grownups. The idea seemed less appealing when Magneto cast him a steady look, and he usually stopped what he was doing even if he hadn't actually been told to. But there had been no one to stop him at the mall, and he had to admit, deep down he wondered how Magneto would react. Had he actually done something to shake up the old man? What it even possible to shake him up?

"Welcome home, Pyro," Magneto said. "How was your visit to the big house?"

It wasn’t any surprise to John that Magneto addressed him by his codename. To the older mutant, it was John’s ‘real’ name, and the teenager always felt inexplicably good hearing it from him. Like he was part of an exclusive club.

"It was gross," he said frankly, giving his lighter lid a flick open, then closing it again. “And that covers both the atmosphere _and_ the inmates.”

“At least they put him in a cell by himself,” Mystique commented as she joined them. “Someone had let it slip that he was a mutant but they couldn’t prove it, so when the charges were dropped they had to let him go.”

“And of course you used your considerable powers of persuasion to convince the store to do that.” Magneto gave her a nod. “Good work, my dear.” He glanced toward John. “I hope you are properly grateful to Mystique for her efforts on your behalf.”

“Yeah,” John admitted and gave the beautiful blue woman a shy grin. “Thanks.”

She tried to smile in return, but her lips were tight as if she felt tense. John saw her gaze flick to Magneto. What was wrong?

“Pyro,” Magneto said slowly, as he walked toward the young man, his cape swirling around him, “why did you decide to steal from that store? Do you want for anything?”

“No,” John admitted.

“Was it something you desired very badly that you were afraid to ask us for?”

“No.” Truthfully, he hadn’t even wanted the CD he’d taken.

Magneto stopped in front of him. His intense gaze fixed on John’s face. “Then why?”

The teenager avoided his eyes and shrugged. “Like I told Mystique, I guess just for kicks.” He risked a glance back up into the imposing mutant’s face. “I didn’t figure I’d get caught.”

“You also didn’t figure on using your power in public unnecessarily,” Magneto stated. “Nor getting thrown in jail, necessitating Mystique to risk her own safety in order to rescue you.”

John didn’t say anything. How could he? It was true.

“Mystique and I talked about what we should do about this before she left,” Magneto informed him. “We felt that we had been treating you as an equal, and that you were mature enough to deserve it. However, you have proved today that you are yet a child. Gifted beyond belief with incredible power, but a child nonetheless.” His expression, which until that moment had remained neutral, now turned severe. “Things are going to change, Pyro. When you behave like an equal, a mature member of this team, you will be treated as such. But when you behave like a child with no self-control or concern for the consequences of his actions, you will likewise be treated thusly.”

John’s eyes widened as Magneto produced a doubled leather belt from within the folds of his cape.

“Here,” he said, holding it out toward Mystique.

John looked desperately from Magneto’s stony visage to the blue woman and saw that she seemed to be as stunned as he was. “Me?” she said uneasily. “Erik, you’re the closest thing to a father this boy has right now. Why should I punish him in your place?”

“Because I want you to,” Magneto told her evenly, still holding out the despised belt that was making John feel nauseous without it ever having touched him. He saw the emotions warring on Mystique’s face. She was devoted to Magneto, but John knew the Master of Magnetism was still in charge of their little group, and while he didn’t often give orders to his female partner, when it was necessary to do so, she followed them without question.

She reluctantly accepted the belt into her hand.

“Make him remember it,” Magneto told her in a grim tone. “I want no repeats of this incident.” He walked around the two of them and left the house.

They looked at each other.

John licked his suddenly dry lips. “Um, you’re not going to …,” he glanced down at the belt she held, “are you?”

“It’s what Erik wants,” she said flatly, but her yellow eyes wouldn’t meet his.

John’s heart was pounding. “If it was your decision, what would you do?”

She was quiet for a few moments, then took hold of his arm and started for his bedroom. “Exactly what I’m going to do.”

John didn’t resist the grip on his arm – he knew Mystique was far stronger than he, anyway – but all his internal alarm systems were going off and he was as close to panic as he’d been since the invasion of the Xavier Institute all those weeks ago.

Mystique kicked the bedroom door closed behind them despite the fact that Magneto had left the house and they were alone. She released John’s arm and turned to face him.

“I agreed with Erik earlier that you had to be punished,” she told him seriously. “I’m sorry, John, but while we’ve been willing to put up with your attitude and sometimes inconsiderate behavior, what happened today could have been the end of all of us. This isn’t Xavier’s where you can’t breathe from under the pile of rules they throw at you, but it’s also not a free ride. Erik and I take our work seriously, and jeopardizing that is going to cost you.” She looked down at the belt she held and shook her head. “But not with this.” She tossed it aside.

John let out a breath he’d been holding since he first saw the thing. “God, Mystique, for a minute I thought you were really going to –“

“I’m not going to use the belt,” she interrupted him. “But I’m still going to spank you, John.”

He did a double-take. “Exsqueeze me?”

The blue-skinned beauty folded her arms. “I just finished telling you that you had to be punished, didn’t I?”

“Well, _yeah_, but there are a lot more punishments you could try besides THAT!” He could feel his face go hot all at once and hadn’t realized that he was clicking his lighter lid open and closed with increasing speed.

“None that would get our point across as effectively,” Mystique said stubbornly, then added, “And no others that would fool Magneto into believing that I’d actually done as he instructed.” She held out her hand. “Give me the lighter.”

He didn’t want to. The lighter was more than a catalyst for his power; it was his security blanket. He needed it close, as reassurance. But he also knew what she was afraid of. “I’m not gonna burn you, Mystique,” he told her sincerely and stuffed the lighter into his pants pocket. “No matter what.”

She nodded, accepting that. John watched her walk toward the bed in a graceful glide a cat would envy and seat herself on the edge. She held out a hand toward him. “Come here, John.”

She couldn’t be serious. “Can’t we at least do this standing up?!” he asked. “It’s too WEIRD to get over your lap at my age!”

“Says you,” Mystique replied dryly. “Standing up makes it too easy for you to pull away, and I want to make every bit of contact count. Now come _here_.”

John wished he was still holding his lighter, and his fingers flexed as if they were still flicking the lid. His heart rate increased as he walked over to stand in front of her, scarcely believing that this was really going to happen. And why was he letting it?

She put both hands on his hips and deliberately moved him toward her right side, turning him to face her lap. “Get the jeans down.”

He opened his mouth to protest but her eyes snapped up to meet his so quickly you’d think she’d anticipated his thoughts. Maybe she had. He clamped his jaw shut and began unfastening his pants. Once they were undone he pushed them over his hips, feeling ridiculous as they fell past his knees.

Mystique took hold of his arm and began guiding him down toward her lap, trying to get him into a prone position over it that was as foreign to John as eating alligator under glass. It felt awkward, it sure as hell must have LOOKED awkward, and yet Mystique didn’t seem uncomfortable or embarrassed or even to mind his weight on her legs. All she did was use both hands to adjust him a little so that his bottom was stationed precisely over her right thigh. He had the uneasy feeling that any slight shift on her part to raise that leg would humiliate him even more than he already was.

Then it became a moot point because Mystique had a whole different kind of humiliation in mind to begin with. He felt her fingers grasp the rim of his underwear and start pulling it down.

“HEY!” he protested and tried to turn over, but her hands suddenly became clamps that held him as firmly in place as though he’d been nailed there.

“It’s not a proper spanking if you aren’t bare, John, and we’re not playing around here. For once, you’re getting exactly what you deserve.”

John dug his fingers into the thick carpeting and willed himself to remain still while she finished taking away the last barrier between his naked flesh and what awaited it. It won’t be that bad, he told himself. Yeah, it’s humiliating being in this position and having my bare ass out in the open but it’s just us two here and I can deal. It’ll be over with soon.

He felt one hand leave him and then the world exploded in blaze of pain, embarrassment, and a multitude of physical and emotional reactions as Mystique’s palm descended on his backside. He cried out at that startling first whack, then cursed himself for not anticipating enough to keep his mouth shut. He vowed not to make that mistake again, then promptly broke that promise with the second blow.

It was incredible how much agony of body, will, and spirit could be experienced in just a few short minutes spent over an adults’ knee. John learned that the hard way, although he tried to hang onto his ‘tough guy’ bravado. Mystique was strong, and it came across in every sharp echo of flesh against flesh. Her firm, decisive hand caught him stinging blows on both cheeks, focusing on one then the other, then making his voice go up two octaves with unexpected slaps to his thighs.

The realization that tears were burning unshed in his eyes nearly made them spill over, but John fought against it while he also struggled in Mystique’s lap.

“Cut it OUT, Mystique!” he half-ordered, half-pleaded. “That’s enough!”

“_I’ll_ decide when it’s enough, Mr. Allerdyce,” she informed him. Lifting her right knee slightly, she gave him two particularly sharp smacks to the undercurves that made him yelp, and several more that forced the tears down his cheeks.

Damn it! He cursed silently, watching his own tears drip onto the carpet. Damn it, damn it, damn it!

“John, I want you to tell me why you’re being punished,” Mystique instructed.

Was she out of her gourd, expecting him to carry on a conversation NOW?! “Because I got caught – OUCH! Damn it, Mystique!”

The blue woman could hear the tears in John’s voice, defiant though it was, and felt him shuddering against her from barely-repressed sobs. “We’re not ending this until I know you’ve learned more than THAT from it, John!” she warned him and walloped his bottom several more times over the spots that were already the brightest red.

“AHHHH!” John cried. It was getting to be too much. “I shouldn’t have stolen the CD and used my power for no good reason!”

“Exactly what IS a good reason to use your power?” Mystique punctuated her question with another whack.

More tears and another outcry. “To further the cause of mutant supremacy!” Oh Jesus love me, John begged inside. Please let her stop before I completely lose it!

“And just what is YOUR place in this Brotherhood of Mutants?” Mystique demanded to know, spanking him twice on each buttock.

“I’m a GOD!” he yelled desperately. Magneto had told him that once, and he would carry the knowledge of it forever, no matter what inferior outside sources said.

Mystique rubbed his back. He gave a pained whimper that could also have been an expression of relief when she carefully pulled up his underwear, signifying the end of his punishment at last. She helped him to his feet and steadied him for a couple of moments as his equilibrium adjusted to being upright again and he gingerly got his jeans up and fastened.

Mystique stood and put her hands on his shoulders. He raised red, wet eyes to meet her yellow ones and she brushed back the bangs that had fallen into his face.

“You ARE a God, St. John Allerdyce,” she told him firmly. “Even among mutants you are blessed because you’ve learned at a young age what your true place is in the scheme of things and you’re willing to stop at nothing to let the rest of the world know it.” She smiled and placed her palm, still hot from pummeling his bottom, against his cheek. “But right now, some patience is required. We mutants are not yet as organized as we should be. Magneto is working on it, and with our help, he will succeed.”

“Which means I shouldn’t screw things up by blowing our cover too early,” John concluded with a sheepish, watery grin. “I get it. I’m sorry.”

Mystique embraced him warmly and he laid his head on her shoulder, closing his eyes. He cared about she and Magneto’s opinions of him in a way he’d never cared about Xavier’s, and even if it had been painful and degrading, he knew now that he’d deserved what he got. The important thing now was making sure he didn’t let them down again, and ultimately, all of mutantkind would reap the benefits of their association.

Except the X-geeks. They were beyond help.

--

(2003)

X-Men is owned by Marvel.

This fic is not to be re-posted.