Bitter regret

Once again, Rogue had accidentally absorbed the psyches of several victims who were now in a comatose state. She couldn't take it anymore; she felt them inside her, yet she had been so disoriented to feel so many people touching her. Even after putting on an inhibitor collar, the souls had permeated her too much; they remained inside her, even with her powers abolished.

She felt guilty like never before; she was stealing people's lives without being able to live her own life. Tears flowed once again but brought her nothing more. The voices inside her begged, cursed her, but she could do nothing.

There was only one solution left; only mysticism could ease her pain, and especially her guilt.

She went to an abandoned mansion, as if she had never been anywhere else. Mystique appeared.

• So, Rogue, you're having another crisis. Do you want me to help you free yourself?
• Yes, well, you know the price. Yes, mistress, I belong to you until you judge me. With these words, Rogue undressed and knelt.

Mystique placed an inhibitor collar around her neck, tied her with ropes. Rogue shuddered with fear, relief, and excitement.

• I'm going to make you suffer until I kill her voices. You know, but each time I go too far, physically and mentally. Last chance to turn back. Shall we begin?

Rogue nodded. The first blow was more violent than usual. It must be admitted that Mystique was taking advantage of it to avenge her many past confrontations. Each blow delivered with cruel precision, Mystique seemed to savor every moan that escaped Rogue's lips. The inhibitor collar tightened more and more, limiting her powers, but amplifying the pain.

Rogue felt her mind fogging, the teenage voices within her were beginning to fall silent, as if they too felt the physical pain. "This is how you'll learn," Mystique whispered, her breath warm against Rogue's ear. "You've taken so much without ever giving back.