~ Game Plan ~
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Game Plan Why did you do that, sir? Like I don’t know why! There I was, going along, minding my own business…oh alright, as much as I ever do, quite happily, controlling this slow-burning "situation" between us until you did that thing. Now you’re in my head and you won’t go away. Like some sort of erotic nightmare. First you answer the door half-naked, all those huge muscles rippling all over the place, then you…then you did that thing. I must stop thinking about it. Now. This isn’t clever. **** You drive me insane. Literally sometimes. Not that I’m not fond of you but honestly, the way you provoke! You’re like a little child demanding that I play ball with you and I know the best way to keep you on heat, little one, is to deny you what you most want. Of course, nobody’s ever called me a tease before – not to my face at least. Nobody would dare! Are you thinking of me? Are you thinking about me right now? I bet you are. I can see you in my mind’s eye. God! All that damn posturing. Those flicky eyes and the pouty lower lip. "But, sir…" If I have to listen to your sulky lies one more time I swear I’ll break down and hurt you the way you want me to. Well of course I’d noticed. We recognised each other fairly early on, didn’t we, Mulder? Of course after some years of this I’d got to notice fellow game-players but I’ve never met one as good as you before. You test me, Mulder, you really, really test me. **** Hell, you know me, never could keep away from the truth. People tell me I’m a masochist… if only they knew! You sure have an impressive body, but we all know that isn’t what’s got me hooked, although of course I’m only human. It’s more like the icing on the cake. Did you notice I was impressed? Or were you too side-tracked by the gift I brought you? Damn him. I hate him more than ever now. Did you like him more than you like me? Did you find him prettier, with his dark eyes and clean-cut jaw? If not, why did you waste your time on him? I was there as well you know. If you were going to toss anybody around and handcuff them it should have been me. Really, I feel as if I’ve earned it. I mean how angry do I have to make you before you snap? I try hard, but still you keep your goddamn self-control. Even when I took that swing at you last year – how did you stop yourself hitting back? I bow to you, master. I really do. But if you’d broken, if you’d finally given in - that way I’d have something to fantasise about – something more than being held in your angry arms, with you squeezing those fantastic muscles round my throat anyway. That was nice, that was good – that was almost enough. If I close my eyes I can still feel you, the way you were breathing, heavily, the sheer strength of you, the scent of you, clean but angry. You want me, Walter. I know that, you know that. I irritate the hell out of you, and you want to get hold of me, pin me down, handcuff me, and fuck the living daylights out of me. What’s stopping you? It’s not as if I’d resist - not more than is seemly anyway... **** I don’t like to let my playthings set the pace. It destroys the dynamic, but you’ve given me the run-around. You push away at my resolve, hoping to get a snap, or preferably a slap but a snap will do, and I oblige. When you came to my apartment in the middle of the night a few days ago – well, I wondered if you’d broken and finally come to beg for it. Krycek was a surprise but I used him well. I showed you what I could do, gave you a taste, and left you begging for more. Don’t think I can’t recognise desire when it flags up in a pair of winsome hazel eyes, sweetheart. I’m going to keep you on the edge, Mulder. My recent performance should have reinforced my credentials. You know what I can do and how and you want me even more. Pant, boy, pant. I’ll force you to beg for what you want before we’re through. I’m in charge here. **** What were you thinking? When you tied Krycek up? I was watching and I saw a man who sure as hell knows his way around a set of handcuffs. You were quick, efficient and you know all the topping tricks going. How can I tell? Don’t be stupid, you know what I am. I’ve been on the receiving end a few times and I can say right now that you’re the best. You do it without thinking. You do it in everyday life, without even trying, you don’t just confine yourself to sex games. You’re so…practised. Who did you practise on, sir? Not a woman, not your wife. I can tell that as well. Sometimes I even put my psychological profiling skills to good use…No, you save that side of yourself for men, don’t you? It’s probably called dominant male theory or something. I should look it up. You know, the alpha male gets to fuck everything beneath him, male or female, and we’re all grateful for it. I know I would be. **** Do you know what I want to do to you? I want to get hold of that over-abundant hair, push you onto your knees, tie you up good and tight, and then strip your shirt off, nice and slow. All the time you’ll be begging for mercy, knowing what I’m going to do. I’d use a whip – in case you’re wondering - and I’ll just bet you are my sweet panting fox cub. I’d take the time to punish you slowly, as you deserve, and as you undoubtedly crave. If I don’t hear you scream soon…You would scream for me, foxling. I’d demand that much. High screams from deep inside your soul. And there’s not any part of your body I wouldn’t be cruel to, not any. You’d find me as exacting as you want me to be. But it's the nuances that create the tension isn't it, cub? The physical release would simply be the culmination of this game we've been playing, but the fun is in what we're doing right now, what we have been doing for some time. You sulk, you pout, you disobey me. You run off, deceive, lie, goad, and all the time with such endearing innocence and consuming passion. And I respond in turn, keeping to our script, a choreographed dance of power. I order, rant, pace and threaten, and between us we're stoking up this fire. I like the nuances, they keep us finely balanced on the edge of our erotic abyss. One false move and one of us falls in. Which of us will it be? **** Do you know when I first recognised you for what you were? It was pretty early on. I’d seen you around a few times, but hardly to talk to, and then suddenly I was up to my neck in shit and you were pushing all these buttons. So, the first time I knew that we were onto a game…it was a couple of years ago now. I was sitting in your office, and you’d just asked Scully to leave. You had no idea who you were dealing with, sir! Trying that old trick on me. The one where you’re nasty as hell while pretending to be nice. All that flattery about how famous I was, even while still at the academy. Then: "Take a holiday, Mulder. You’re overworked." It was an order of course, but I took it as a kind suggestion. That pissed you off! Maybe then you had an inkling that I wouldn’t play ball. I see you as this big cat, Walter, a sleek, dark one, a panther maybe. You just prowl around knocking people down with your big paws, and holding them there until they do as you say. Not this time, big boy! You’ve met your match. I won’t roll over and die for you. Anyway, back to that day in your office. I still didn’t realise you were a grand master but I was getting an inkling you were a player. "You are forbidden to go near Eugene Tooms," you told me. Without even looking at me. No frowns or histrionics, just stern authority. The sort that comes from knowing that there is no question but that you WILL be obeyed. Not that I did- I'm not that easily played, Walter. And what is it with you and the way you stand, hand on hips? Disapproval so seductively combined with invitation. Still I didn’t realise. No. The minute I realised was when you gave me a shot of your timing. I was nearly at the door, on the way out, and you stopped me. "Agent Mulder..." Your voice was like silk rope around my wrists, dangerous, cutting and seductive. "This was close…" A warning. A threat. A promise, and I knew. I could feel the flickering inside. **** How long can you hold out, Mulder? I think I threw you with Krycek the other night. Your spur of the moment attempt to spike my game didn't work. My strategy with him was a master-stroke and an improvised one at that. Can you come up with anything better? I’m looking forward to your riposte, little one. Well did you think you were playing some two-bit leather freak in some seedy downtown S&M club? I’m way beyond that. I’m an expert, and I’ve been playing for years. **** Shall I send this feverish writing to you? I could. I could just call up your email, press the send key. What would you do? Storm down here and rant at me, pin me up against the wall in that butch way you have, hold me down….oh I’m fantasising again, Walter. Cold shower time. I won't send it. Nope, I’m not that desperate that I’d risk everything to taste the back of your hand yet. Is that what you want? Damn you! I’ve never met a player like you before. Usually I get what I want early on, and then I leave. I always force the pace, manage the tops to make them do exactly what I want them to. But you - you know we’re playing the same game. I see it in your eyes. Work just gives a different dimension to our playground but the rules are still there. I’ve played this game before, sir and I’d always considered myself a master at it. Master... it’s an old debate isn’t it? Who is in charge? The submissive who manipulates, or the dominant who obliges? I know which side of the fence I’m on. I always got what I needed until now. Damn you. I will make you hurt me. I will. **** Riled are we? I see you’re working late. I dropped by ten minutes ago to drop off some work and you’re beavering away at your word processor, flushing a delicate shade of pink, your tongue drooling over that moist bottom lip of yours like an sexual beacon. Don’t think I didn’t know what you were doing. "Yes, sir. No, sir." You said, and you sighed, twitching your eyes heavenward. Surely you’re not so far gone as to actually make me angry on purpose to get what you want? There's not much finessing in that. What happened to the passion of your convictions? Standing up to me over something you genuinely believe in is much more enticing - raw emotional honesty usually is. Or were you just giving yourself something to jerk off on? Poor cub. But you’ll have to ask nicely. Only one of us can win and I’m not letting you call the shots. **** You know! Shit! You know I’m burning up after what you did with Krycek. I’ve never felt so exposed. You didn’t even frown, you just smiled, pleasantly, your face so open and kind. When did you ever smile you goddamned headfuck! Where was the grim visage, the closed-mouth scolding? I want more, sir. Much more. **** A poor excuse. You put your head around my door on a pretext? A pretext, Mulder? What sort of a sloppy game are you playing?"Sir, can you tell me why this case was closed?" Some old case with my initials on it that you’ve dusted down and got out to argue with me about. Provoking an argument about something so pointless? Something you don’t even care about, Foxling? Oh dear, someone is panting bad now. Tell me – was it the way I punched Krycek or the way I cuffed him? Ah, the cuffs I think. Look at you, standing here, hopping and twitching as usual. I have a pair of handcuffs in my desk drawer. Watch me now, this will amuse you…. pretext, Mulder? What sort of a sloppy game are you playing? "Sir, can you tell me why this case was closed?" Some old case with my initials on it that you’ve dusted down and got out to argue with me about. Provoking an argument about something so pointless? Something you don’t even care about, Foxling? Oh dear, someone is panting bad now. Tell me – was it the way I punched Krycek or the way I cuffed him? Ah, the cuffs I think. Look at you, standing here, hopping and twitching as usual. I have a pair of handcuffs in my desk drawer. Watch me now, this will amuse you…. pretext, Mulder? What sort of a sloppy game are you playing? "Sir, can you tell me why this case was closed?" Some old case with my initials on it that you’ve dusted down and got out to argue with me about. Provoking an argument about something so pointless? Something you don’t even care about, Foxling? Oh dear, someone is panting bad now. Tell me – was it the way I punched Krycek or the way I cuffed him? Ah, the cuffs I think. Look at you, standing here, hopping and twitching as usual. I have a pair of handcuffs in my desk drawer. Watch me now, this will amuse you…. pretext, Mulder? What sort of a sloppy game are you playing? "Sir, can you tell me why this case was closed?" Some old case with my initials on it that you’ve dusted down and got out to argue with me about. Provoking an argument about something so pointless? Something you don’t even care about, Foxling? Oh dear, someone is panting bad now. Tell me – was it the way I punched Krycek or the way I cuffed him? Ah, the cuffs I think. Look at you, standing here, hopping and twitching as usual. I have a pair of handcuffs in my desk drawer. Watch me now, this will amuse you…. **** I’m losing. I’m losing! You’ve stopped playing, sir, or you’ve moved the game to some level I can’t fathom. You’re being nice! Stop that. Stop it now! It’s not fair and it’s not in the rules. Sweet smiles, kind glances, tolerance???? What are you doing to me? I need some stern looks, some discipline, sir. I can’t go on without a glare at least. Please….I’m begging. Almost. Oh alright, I know it was stupid, going into your office but I had to see you and then you pretended to get out that file, pulled those handcuffs out onto the desk, just lay them there between us! Oh I hate you. "So, Mulder. Sit down. Refresh my memory about this case." And, idly, you pick up those damn cuffs and play with them! You think I’m not made of flesh and blood? I nearly broke, very nearly. I couldn’t take my eyes off those cuffs, and we both know what we wanted you to do with them. I’ll make you angry with me, too angry to stop yourself. I will, sir. I’ll force you to handcuff me, to hurt me. Just you wait and see. **** "One, two, buckle my shoe, three four, knock at the door." Ah – here it comes. Right on cue, cub, right on cue. So what’s it about this time? Another ancient file? Some orders you want me to hand out so that you can flout them. Uh-uh. Not playing, Agent Mulder. You beg to get what you want or you go without. I am going to be so kind to you that you’ll be sick to the gills. **** "It’s about Agent Scully, sir." That got your attention. You weren’t expecting that. Did you really think I wouldn’t risk everything? Play dirty? I’m desperate here, sir! "I haven’t been able to tell her what went on at Tunguska, sir." You’re intrigued. You’ve stopped tapping your fingers on the desk and now you’re glaring. Oops yes, you’ve just realised you’re doing it but it’s too late! I saw! **** "Tunguska?" What sort of nonsense are you intending to spout, Mulder? What’s your game? Stay calm, Walter. Smile at him. He hates that. **** "I’m writing a report, sir. Not that it’s much use. I realise all the others have been binned but this one, well this is my personal report, sir. An honest account of what happened to me." And it’s all the truth, master. What good bedside reading it’ll make for a man of your obvious… persuasions. "I haven’t told Scully because some of what happened to me was…pretty nasty, sir." There! Pupils dilating! And glory be - another frown. Gotcha! **** "You don’t have to recount anything you’re uncomfortable with, Agent Mulder. I’ll read it in your report." Another test, boy? Don’t tempt me. If you’re about to make up some sort of nonsense I swear I might lose control… **** "I was chased by men on horseback, sir. They had whips." Ah, the "w" word. That had an effect. Look how jerky your hands are as you hold the paper between those blunt, potentially savage fingers. Am I winning now, Walter? **** "Horseback?" Honestly. Does he think the image of him being chased by men on horseback will inflame me with passion? And has he really put this down in a report that he’ll sign his name to and file? He must be more desperate than I thought. Actually men on horseback with whips is a turn-on. Cunning little fox. **** "Yes, sir. I think I upset them." "You do have that effect on people, Mulder." You couldn’t resist that one, could you? Good. How near am I to upsetting you? "One of them lassooed me round the legs with his whip. I fell down into the mud." How do we feel about boys covered in mud about to be whipped by savage horsemen, Walter? Oh I see we have your attention. Bet we’re not feeling so cocky about that handcuff game now are we? "I must have really ticked them off. They kept whipping me, as I lay in the mud." Move your arms around a bit, show him the scars on your wrists where you put your hands up to deflect the blows. Just a hint. Careful, Mulder, careful. A lot rides on this one. Oh yes. He’s taken the bait. **** "I trust you are now fully recovered, Mulder?" Get a grip, Walter. Don't look at those whip marks. Don't look. "Almost, sir. Still got a few bruises but I’ll survive." A wry shrug. You won’t damn well survive if I get my hands on you tonight. What are you trying to do? Make me take you here, in my own office? Oh god. Yes you are. Fuck. You just raised the goddamn stakes. **** "They locked me up in a cell. Then I was tied down to a table – they stripped my shirt off and covered me in some sort of chicken wire." Sounds like a wet dream I know, but it’s all true, Walter darling. Am I painting a good mental image? I’m trying hard. You’re shifting behind your desk, looking uncomfortable. Is this an erection I see before me? "Then they sprayed us with some sort of black liquid." Nice image. Sleek, oily, black fluid, me tied down with wire. Mmm…he’s losing it. **** "Any idea what this liquid was?" Who gives a fuck? Just the thought of him tied down and helpless and…wet? How did he guess that this was one of my fantasies? Is he winning this damn game? Damn him for having a winning hand. Did this actually happen to him or is he testing me again? He’s changed his gameplay. Instead of trying to make me angry he’s trying to turn me on instead. Devious, delicious fox cub! **** "No, sir. Something to do with the black cancer I think." Let’s not get bogged down in technical jargon. Not when I’m so close. **** "Is that all then, Mulder?" Please let him go, before he makes me do something I’ll regret. **** "Isn’t it enough, sir?" Could be read two ways. He’s looking at me. "What exactly do you want from me, Agent Mulder?" Getting up, moving this way. Oh yes! I’m going to win. He’s going to snap. He’s going to get hold of me right here and now….I’ve done it! **** "Want, sir?" Damned innocent hazel eyes. How many levels can we go up? I think I might have met my match. I’ll punish him for this so bad he won’t be able to walk tomorrow. Nobody’s ever gotten under my skin like this before – and yet! Yet if I can get a grip, I can pull him over the edge with me. "Shit, Mulder - what a terrible experience for you. You should take a few days holiday, son." Kind hand on shoulder, tender smile, forced from the bottom of my soul. But watch his face drop! Oh, the sheer sadistic pleasure of it! Thought you had me did you, boy? Well think again! I’m back! I’m rolling! **** "Don’t do this to me, sir…" What did I just say? I’ve lost it. He’s won. "Do what, Mulder?" Silky, dangerous, close. I won’t beg for it, I won’t but I can’t breathe, gasping for air… "This, sir. All this touchy feely stuff, sir." I could cry. Really I could. Oh god, I hope he isn’t going to make me. I can smell him, he’s so close. That crisp white shirt, those dark eyes flashing behind those glasses. "Just showing concern, son." "Son?" "What would you prefer me to call you?" "Boy! Boy - like you called him! It wasn’t fair that you did that to him and not me! He didn’t deserve it as much as I do, sir. Do it to me, sir! You win - I’ll do what you want, I’ll do whatever you want. Please, look at me. I’m begging here, sir, master, grand master, best fucking top in the whole damn universe! I’m begging, pleading…" Flinging myself down, at his knees, where I belong. Desperate. **** Music to my ears! Stand still and savor the sound for a moment. Is a little reward in order, boy? So that was the trigger was it? Boy. Not the handcuffs, or the punch, or the rough handling but one little syllable. I want to laugh, to haul him up and kiss his sweet pouty mouth but we’ll save that for afterwards I think. Right now he’s earned his mean frown, my hand closing in his hair, pulling his head back. It’s a draw really but I won’t tell him that. I haven’t picked the place or time, he has. I never wanted it to be my office but it does have to be now. Neither of us can hold on any longer. I wouldn’t have let him walk out of here without giving him what we both want so it is most definitely a draw. Manipulative brat! Never have I met anyone this good. My belt is going to be very busy tonight… GAME OVER. FOR PART TWO SEE BELOW Feedback to: Xanthe@Innocent.com Usual disclaimer. The characters don't belong to me, but to Chris Carter and Fox, I just like playing with them! I don't make anything financial out of them either. GAME PLAN PART TWO BY XANTHE "He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me…." They're beautiful flowers. Thank you, Walter. Such beautiful flowers. I'm in the grip of an obsession here and I can't do a thing about it. I don't even want to do a thing about it and besides a boy has to have something to dream about if he can't actually move… And I can't. Not a muscle. The nurses are nice though, and Scully's been so sweet. It was all worth it, despite the unfortunate ending, wasn't it, Walter? I'm coming out in a cold sweat just thinking about last night…. **** Poor cub! All frail and pale lying in a hospital bed. Our passions really did get the better of us last night, didn't they? Still, that was probably inevitable considering the length of time this has been brewing. You do bring out such strong emotions in me, foxling! I blame myself for this though. I should have thought that something like this would happen. **** Will I ever tell you how you made me feel when you got hold of my hair and pulled my head back and traced your finger along my throat? Probably not - you already know anyway. I don't think you need to be told anything about me. You know every bad, deviant thought in my wicked, perverted head. I was so relieved though! For a moment, for just one awful moment, I thought maybe I'd got it wrong and you weren't a player after all, just an angry boss. A commonplace angry boss about to lose me my job. It was only for a split second, then you came out like the sun, in all your toppish glory and I'm dazzled by you now! **** It was a good moment, cub. Very good. To finally have you where you belong, on your knees at my feet, grovelling, begging. "So tell me, boy. Is it the handcuffs you want first?" I'm leaning over you, pushing your head so far back it's nearly on the floor. "Yes. No. Whatever you want, sir. You're in charge," you reply, singing sweetly as I always knew you would with the right handling. "Yes I am. And don't forget it." "I won't, sir," you squeak. "Did I give you permission to talk?" My hand tight around your throat, then relaxed, gentle, playing with your ears. Keep them off balance, Walter. Pace yourself. You're shaking your head, trembling beneath me, your erection so big I can practically smell it, let alone see it. **** I'm in love. There's no two ways about it. You were a revelation, Walter, the best I've ever played and you didn't let me down in the culmination either. Of course, it's only what I would have expected after the way you'd been playing for the past couple of years. Your big hands are on my body now, one still in my hair to keep me down (as if I needed keeping down!) the other roving all over me, as if searching for something but not going anywhere near where you might find anything. Then you throw me back, onto the floor, straddle me with those big thighs, hold my head in both your mean hands and look me straight in the eye. You aren't wearing your glasses. Your eyes sure are dark, sir, and intense, and scary. I'm scared, I'm trembling and I can hardly move. I'm wriggling - you're heavy, sir and I can't breathe…. **** "Keep still." "Can't…" "I said, keep still!" I thunder. "Is this how you obey me, boy? How many orders have I given you? Well, answer me?" "I don't know, sir." "A lot, boy. And how many have you ever obeyed?" "I'm not sure…." I bang his head back on the floor. "Not many, boy. Not many. Perhaps now is the time to spell out what will happen to you if you don't obey me." "I will…I'll do everything you say, everything you want…" "Like staying quiet when I tell you?" I ask and you bite your lip. "No, boy. You just can't help yourself. I should gag you…." Eager light in your hazel eyes. "But the trouble is, I enjoy the screams too much, Mulder." "Boy." You pout. **** It was a bad mistake. I know that. I knew it as soon as I said it. You went so dangerously quiet that I nearly came there and then just watching the expression on your face. "Are you presuming to tell me what I can call you now?" You ask, your tone quiet, low and so threatening that I'm in heaven. "No, sir. I'm sorry, sir. Punish me, sir." "Oh, I will, Mulder. I will, I promise you. But I'll decide when." We're interrupted! Oh, god! There's a scuffling sound at the door. It's late and the cleaners have started work. "Damn!" You pull back off me, grab my wrist and get me on my feet just in time before the door opens. Do we look as guilty as we feel? Thank god we are at least still fully dressed. You are perching those glasses back on your nose, turning away from me, putting your hand out for a file, pretending to flick through it and all I can do is rearrange my shirt and tie and smile goofishly at the cleaner. "Come back later," you say tersely, glancing up at the cleaner as if surprised. "Yes, sir." She scurries away, as scared of you as I am. **** "Come here." I beckon him over and open my desk drawer, pulling out some handcuffs. "Be still, Mulder and very quiet," I say, holding his body against my chest, his back to me, his hair next to my chin, my arms wrapped up across his chest, under his neck, hard, restraining. "Does this remind you of something?" I whisper gently in his ear. "Yes…" We both know what I'm referring to. "Good. Because now is payback time." Quickly I fasten his wrists together behind his back. Then I go and fetch my coat, slinging it over his shoulders, hiding the handcuffs. "What are we doing?" "You, are doing what you are told. And as for me, I'm taking us on a little journey." "Where to? Why?" You look a bit panicky, Mulder. "Where to? Guess. Why? Because I meant what I said earlier, boy. I want to hear you scream but I don't want to have to worry about everyone in this damn building rushing in to find out what the noise is about. So, much as we both want to stay and finish this right now, instead we'll have to be patient. Can you be patient, Mulder?" "If you want me to be, sir." A little pout. "But why the handcuffs? I could just walk out without drawing attention to us. I could meet you in the parking lot." "Don't presume, Mulder." I sigh, wearily. "I've got you where I want you right now. Don't think I'm going to let you get back any of your insufferable impertinence. Besides, you like game-playing don't you, boy? Well, think of this as the next round. You and me, getting out of here without anyone noticing that you're handcuffed under my coat. Fun?" **** Fun? I've had more fun being chased by killer mutants. Who would have guessed you'd be this reckless! And I find I'm warming to it, exhilarated by your risk-taking. You push me out of the room, lock the door, along the corridor, your hand still on my shoulder. Then we're in the elevator. Oh shit! Agent Pendrell is in here as well. "Mulder. Sir." Pendrell nods at us. "You're both working late." "Yes, Pendrell. Special assignment." You stab your fingers at the elevator buttons. The handcuffs are biting into my wrists. Familiar, cold, metallic. I hope they don't jangle and give us away. Keep very still, Mulder. "No rest for the wicked eh, sir?" Oh you arselicker, Pendrell! "For the wicked? No." You look at me sweetly, a knowing twinkle in your eye. "No rest at all. Only punishment for the wicked, eh, Mulder?" You nudge me with your toe and Agent Pendrell is looking slightly taken aback by your response. I clear my throat. "That's right, sir." I give a sickly smile, counting down the seconds until the elevator reaches the ground. Did someone teach you how to be this good, or were you born this way? **** This is good! I'm walking you through the foyer, wishing the guards on the door goodnight, smiling a bit as well and I can feel you like a tense little kitten beneath my fingers. I've got my hand resting lightly on your arm, guiding you. We're nearly there as well, when: "Mulder!" You swing round, jumping, skittish, your protective coat almost going flying. Scully is rushing towards us, her red hair bobbing up and down. "Mulder, I'm glad I caught you!" You're giving these strangled, mewling little cries like the fox cub you are, trying to catch my eye. Well I'm not going to help you. You're a player, Mulder, you get out of this. "Have you written that report yet?" Scully is asking, her eyes glancing over me, glancing over Mulder and not quite registering the fact that it's my coat slung over your shoulders. "Um, yeah. We were just going over it weren't we, sir?." You shrug in my direction, a meaningful, "help me!" shrug. I ignore you, smiling benignly at Scully. "It's just I've found some more technical data, Mulder. I think we should discuss it." "What? Now?" You squawk. "Yes." Scully's blue eyes are intense and insistent. Now the desperation radiating from you is so tangible I want to kiss you. "I can't." Another shrug, then you stop, realising the coat is slipping. You back up against me to prevent it falling off completely. I'm still smiling. "I have something else I need to work on tonight. Don't I, sir?" At last! True neediness in your voice. An abject request for help. When will you learn that it's pleading that gets you places with me? "That's right, Agent Scully, but don't worry. I'll make sure Agent Mulder reports to you first thing tomorrow morning." And we're on our way again. **** "You, are a bastard." I rasp, as you open the car door for me. "Don't be an idiot, Mulder!" You shake your mean head. "Calling your boss names? Really. And when you're already in so much trouble?" "That wasn't funny. I don't want Scully knowing anything about this!" "Neither do I, Mulder. So you'd better keep your wits about you hadn't you?" I swear that if my hands were free they'd be round your smug throat. We drive for a while, in silence. But I can't bear the tension and begin to speak. You stop me. "I think, if you don't mind, cub, that I'd rather you kept your mouth shut. If you're capable of it." "Cub?" "Oh dear. I see you're not capable of it." "What's all this cub, stuff?" "Fox cub. It's how I think of you." And you give me another of those horrible smiles. "Fox cub? Ugh. It's revolting." "Oh good. You don't like it!" Oh yeah, smirk, smirk away. I'll make you remember why you're bringing me here though. I'll make you remember why we're risking our jobs for this. Just you wait until we're alone together…Tops aren't the only ones who can do tricks you know! We're swinging into the parking lot under the apartment block where you live and you usher me out into the elevator and then along to your apartment. Last time I was here… "Now, boy." You round on me, whisking the coat away, and for a minute I think you're going to slam your fist into my stomach like you did with him. I don't want that, but I'd suffer it. I think that right now I'd suffer anything for you. "I have a few things I need to do before I turn my attention to giving you what you deserve. So." You haul me out onto the balcony, swiftly undo one of the handcuffs, tie me to the railings. "Don't go anywhere!" You smile maliciously and return to the apartment, leaving the door and the curtain open. Oh very clever, Walter. Get me panting again why don't you? Stoke up the tension we lost while we were forced into our re-location. Krycek was right, it is cold out here. I watch as you disappear up the stairs. What are you doing? Where are you going? Then you're back down again, changed into jeans and a tight black tee shirt that shows off that massive chest, and those strong arms. I've had tops keep me waiting before, but not like this! Not while you prowl around your apartment like the panther I imagine you to be in my head. Making a phone call? Pouring yourself a drink?? Sitting yourself down on your couch and flicking through some TV channels???? Toy with me why don't you! **** Keep him guessing. I'm hot for him but he's not going anywhere. And besides, we already know that he likes this fantasy. So do I of course! I put it in his head after all. Finally, after about an hour, I go out to see him. "You cold, boy?" "No," you say, between chattering teeth. "Want me to warm you up?" "No." Such petulance. It's what I like about you, foxling. "I think we're forgetting the 's' word, boy! What do you say?" "No, sir." You spit, eyes angry at being abandoned for so long when you're this close to the edge. I undo the cuffs and pull him back into the other room, shutting the curtains and door firmly behind us. "On your knees, cub." I press him down. "And take your clothes off. All of them. Now." I sit back down to watch. This'll be good. He'll be naked and I'll be fully clothed. Small tricks I know, but worth using all the same. All in the cause of total domination, obviously. He's watching me from under that tousled hair, trying to get the measure of me, still trying to play me! One hand on the top button of his shirt, slowly undoing it, never taking his eyes off me, his tongue moistening that drooly bottom lip, enticingly… "Just undress, cub. Quickly. It's not a striptease." Angry little flashes in your eyes. Did you think to get the balance of power back, foxling? Get me so enthralled by your sweet body that I'd do things your way and you'd be able to manipulate me to get what you want? Please! You don't seem to have learned anything. **** How many times do I have to be wrong-footed in one evening? I'd give up, really I would, but I might just get a lucky break somewhere along the line. I get rid of my clothes in 10 seconds flat. I'd like to report that I was embarrassed, kneeling there butt naked in front of my boss, but hell, I'm just a whore at heart. I loved it! He's looking me up and down, then down and up, that mean grin flickering around his lips. "Let's get the rules straight shall we?" He says, clearing his throat and tearing his eyes away from my erection. "Rules?" "Yes." He pauses, then grins again. "Boy." He growls that word in such a way that I melt all over. I can feel a shiver running down my spine, making me gasp inside my stomach. "Rules are you can't come until I tell you that you can, and I mean that, boy. Don't think you'll just be able to provoke me into giving you some nice punishment if you do, because the punishment for coming before I say is….game over. Rain stops play if you get my meaning, cub." Bastard. "As for the other rules, well you've already shown yourself incapable of keeping them. I'll repeat them anyway, just so you can't say I didn't warn you. You don't talk without my permission and you obey everything I say. Oh, and you call me sir. Or master. I'm not bothered which. There see, easy rules. Even you should be able to keep them, boy but we both know you won't." "And what's the punishment for breaking them, sir?" "You'll find out, cub. And did I give you permission to talk?" "No, sir." He still hasn't hit me. Come on. I've been waiting 2 years for this. Did you think I didn't know I didn't have permission to talk? Punish me, please! **** "Come with me, cub." I lead him into one of my rooms. Open a cupboard and unlock a safe. Ideally I'd keep all my equipment on show, but occasionally one is broken into in my line of work and it would be a trifle embarrassing. So, the safe it is. A completely impregnable one at that. There are hooks on the walls and ceiling and in a matter of seconds he's attached to them, leather cuffs around his wrists and ankles, suspended in mid-air. **** Well, at goddamn last. He's got me all tied up and he's getting out all this stuff and laying it all out on the table and there it is! A whip! Please hurry, Walter. Get that whip moving - I'm desperate here! What are you doing? No, Walter, sir, please pick it up again. It's nice. It's all black and shiny, you want to swing it around the place, you really do. Oh god, where's he gone? He's back. He's behind me…ugh! What is that? **** "They're ice cubes, boy. In case you're wondering." "They're cold!" "Yes. That's because they're ice cubes. I thought I just made that clear. And that's twice now, incidentally." "Twice what?" "Three times." "Oh, I see." "Four. You really don't want to continue in this way, boy. Not when you can't be sure what the punishment is." Dear me. Not even an ice cube trailed along his hard cock puts a dent in that erection. He has got it bad. Let's just hope he can hold on because I have no intention of stopping just yet… **** I hate this. Ice cubes! What am I, a goddamn penguin? Now he's trailing one down my back. Oh stop, Walter. Please stop! Oh no. Not there. Please not there. "FUCK!" "Oh, you don't like this? Maybe next time you'll be more obedient then." He's pressed one right inside me. This is so disgusting. "Please, sir. Please…." I'm dangling, pathetic. I can't believe that he hasn't whipped me yet. And you know, I think he's going to make me beg for that. He's standing in front of me, those cold dark eyes fixed on me. "What is it, boy? Was there something you wanted to ask me?" "Please take the ice cube out, sir." "But I've only just put it there!" "Please…" Where's he gone to now? Out of the room, back again. Why can't he damn well stand still for a moment? Then he could see how gorgeous I look. How abject and servile and…he's back. **** "Did you know there were other games we could play like this one?" And I go and stand in front of him with the candle, matches at the ready. His eyes have gone all wide! "Not…no. You're not going to do what I think you're going to do are you?" "Why not? Look you've got goosebumps all over, boy. This should warm you up." And I light the candle and move towards him, swilling a nice, hot, runny piece of wax around in the top of the candle. "No!" He's struggling, trying to move away. It's pointless of course. "Sir, please, listen to me." Moving around, frantically. "I'm scared now, sir. I've never done this sort of stuff before. Please…please, can I at least have a safe word?" **** He's stopped. Thank god! Standing quite still. Then he moves fast, blowing out the candle, undoing the cuffs and I've fallen to the floor. "What is it?" He's moving away from me, packing up the stuff. "Please…what is it?" I'm at his elbow, frantically trying to get a reply. "I'm sorry, son." He smiles, gently, putting out a sweet, tender hand to caress my hair regretfully. "I thought you were a top level player. I was wrong." "Because I asked for a safe word?" "Because you don't trust me. I'm not someone you've just picked up in a bar for god's sake! You know me. When you play at this level, Mulder, you need to be able to give yourself up to the ride." "I can, I am, I do! It's just that you're scaring me. Nobody's ever played me like this before. I've never even needed a safe word before! I've always been able to manipulate every top I ever came across. They only hurt me how I wanted them to in ways I wanted them to. You're different, that's all. You make me feel unsafe." "I know. And that's the turn-on isn't it, Mulder?" He's looking pointedly at my still rampant erection. He's right though. I've never been more scared or more excited in my life. "You can't have one without the other," he says, still stroking my hair. "If you can't pay the ultimate price, risk everything for the game…then you won't get the ultimate rewards, boy." This last word, said mockingly, sweetly, tenderly, without any trace of a threat. **** I hold my breath, just looking at him. He really is so very transparent. Every desire pulsing across his face, visible in those wide, hazel eyes. He swallows then looks me straight in the eye. "I'll do whatever you say. Please don't stop. I promise I'm yours. Do anything," he says desperately. "You're sure?" "Yes." So poignantly offered up, such a pretty little sacrifice. Before he realises it, I've pushed him onto the table, and snapped the cuffs back on him, tying him down. "Close your eyes." I light the candle again and wait until he's relaxed before dipping a nice hot piece of wax onto his chest. He screeches and his eyes open. "I said close them." He does, wriggling and tensing as I move around the table, not sure where the next piece of wax will fall and yet still so aroused! He's good. He's good because he can let himself go, show all his emotions, his fears, his desire, and because he never gives up trying to control me and that makes the struggle such fun! I think I'll win. I think that by the end of the evening he'll be begging me to whip him, begging me to fuck him, begging me to let him come and the power will all be mine. **** This is weird. Cold ice in me, hot wax on me. How did he dream this little torment up? Where did he learn such nasty, fabulous tricks? Has anyone ever done this to him? I can't imagine so but usually the best doms have been subs in their time. Yet he seems so completely, utterly, toppish in everything he does. Every word, every sigh, every frown…at work, at play, in the bedroom. Does he have an erection? Is this turning him on? Me, naked, vulnerable, under his control? Oh I hope he's turned on. I want him to be turned on. I want him to want me. I want him…Actually the wax is rather nice. Just hot enough to hurt but the pain fades really quickly and then the suspense of waiting for the next dollop. Where will it fall, tense my body, wait, wait, wait…where's he standing? I can't hear him, I can't risk opening my eyes, perhaps it's not coming, perhaps….ouch! Mmm, I'm enjoying myself. **** Enough! He's starting to find this a little too comfortable. Change the pace, Walter. Undo the cuffs, pull him up, tie him back up, his feet a little way off the ground but nice and comfy. Painful wrists do not an erotic fantasy make - just enough to pull and restrain, not enough to cut or overwhelm. Now the whip, but only to excite. Pace around with it in front of him, watching his pupils dilate! How well is he holding on to that erection? By the skin of his teeth I'd imagine. Run my hands along his back, fingers up inside him, slowly, sensuously, until he's totally relaxed, enjoying the caress. Then… **** "Oh shit!" He's got me by the balls. His hand cupping them tight, squeezing just a bit too hard. "Now, boy. Here's a lesson for you." I can't concentrate, I can't even breathe. Please let them go! A lesson? What's he talking about? "I want you to use your imagination, boy. Let's take a scenario - I don't know, liver-eating mutants perhaps. You've just been told by your boss not to go near one. What do you do?" "What? What are you talking about?" "Simple question, Mulder. I forbid you to do something and you…what do you do?" "This isn't fair. You've got me by the balls!" "Nothing's fair, boy. Answer me." Shit, he's squeezing… "Whatever you say. I do whatever you say." "Good. Remember that answer. Let's move on. Your partner's been kidnapped and you've been without sleep for 24 hours. Your kind, thoughtful, ever-concerned boss, tells you to go home and get some rest. What do you do?" "I…go home and get some rest?" "Very good. Will you remember that next time?" "Yes!" Stop that goddamned squeezing. This isn't fair. I'd agree to anything right now. Has he got a whole catalogue of times I've pissed him off in his head? Do we have to go through every single one? "Right. Moving on. You've been affected by a narcotic drug that's making you a bit edgy. In the midst of all the turmoil going on in your head, what is the one thing you remember, the one fact you hang onto, above everything else?" "I don't know." "Think then." "Ow!" "Well, I'm waiting for an answer. You're very slow, Mulder." "This isn't fair. This is work stuff. You can't hold me responsible for it here!" "Mulder, the playground is everywhere, not just the bedroom. You know that. That's the game we've been playing for the past couple of years." "Okay, okay. What was the question again?" "What's the answer?" "Um…no, don't, I'm thinking. Please stop! Okay, got it. Even when affected by drugs that send me completely insane, the one thing I remember is, I don't hit my boss?" "That's right. And what else?" "Um…you want more?" "Oh yes." That voice! It's like black silk, dangerous and sexy and I can't even see him. I can just feel those vicious fingers on my balls! "Er…my boss is nice and good and always on my side and I should trust him?" "Good. That wasn't hard was it?" "Yes." **** Don't make me laugh. That's the hardest thing about being a dom. Mischievous subs who make us want to crack up. Its another sub trick that I'm all too familiar with, foxling so don't think it'll work. Time for some more action, boy. Undo your cuffs, let you down and you're pouting, kneeling at my feet, little pinpricks of tears in your eyes. "Sir, permission to speak?" "Yes, boy." "Please, sir…are you going to whip me?" "Is that what you want?" His eyes go to the whip, nervously, licking his lips, pretending to be scared. I bet any other top would be getting the signals and laying into him right now, but if it's what he wants…well there's no reason why he should get what he wants just yet. "No sir. Please don't whip me." Oh, honestly! "Alright then, I won't." "What?" "You said you didn't want me to whip you so I won't." "You don't have to do what I say, sir! I've been really been bad. You've just gone through a whole list of times when I've pissed you off. I deserve to be punished, don't I?" **** He's probably going to wrap me in duct tape or something next. Anything to delay giving me what I want. I can't stop shivering with the thrill of this and he's hardly even touched my dick yet. Which is a good thing. If he did I'd come within seconds. That ice cube has melted now, all dripped out of me… an interesting experience! "Punishment for you….is keeping you on the edge, cub. And anyway, you'll have to beg for everything you want. Do you want me to fuck you, boy?" "Yes. Please." I haven't even seen what's in his trousers yet. But I want to, god I want to. "Can I…." I'm inching forward, my hands going to his belt, to undo….ow! He's got me by the ear. "Presuming again are we, boy?" "Sorry, sir. But, sir, please let me touch you. I want to touch you. I want to have you in my mouth, sir….please, please." I can't believe I'm actually rolling around at his feet, begging for it. "Good. You're learning. So I'm going to reward you. You can undress me." He lets go of my ear and stands there, waiting for me. I get up, put one trembling finger on his tee shirt, then another. I 'm standing looking right into his eyes now, his gaze holding mine, steady, implacable. I can't wait to see this fantastic body again! I've had dreams about these rippling muscles. I'm tugging the tee shirt up, slowly, pulling it over his head, careful - don't want to upset him. Good job he hasn't got any hair to mess up! Oh shit! That body. Can't resist putting my fingers on his nipples, tangling through that chest hair… "I said you could undress me, not fondle me. Get on with it, boy." "Yes, sir." Swallowing down desire, pressure in my cock so painful! Kneeling down in front of his jeans, unbuttoning, unzipping, push them down around his ankles and he steps out of them. Now his briefs, black cotton, nice and functional although…no, definitely not a man who'd even contemplate wearing red silk boxers or anything with silly pictures on them. At last, a sight of that cock….oh shit! It's impressive, yeah, really, really impressive. Long enough but not out of the ordinary but wide! Very wide. And hard! So he does want me. Smug smile to myself - I deserve that much don't I? **** "You can look, but don't touch." "But I want…!" "I know what you want. I know everything you want, boy. But just because you want something doesn't mean you can have it. Now get over here." He comes obediently, without the usual fuss and preamble and arguments or intolerable showing off. He's getting the idea. Now I've got his neck and I push him towards the door that leads to the en suite bathroom. Inside, turn the shower on. "I think you've got a bit too hot, boy. Let's cool you down shall we." Make it nice and cold, and watch that erection shrivel. He's yelping and shrieking as I hold him under the flow of water, spluttering and coughing. "That's for the fantasy you spun me back in my office this evening," I tell him. "Tied down with chicken wire and sprayed with black liquid my ass! If you didn't want me to make you all wet you shouldn't have thrown that one at me, boy!" "It was all true!" "Maybe it was. How do you get yourself into these things, Mulder?" Decide he's suffered enough of the cold water treatment and turn the heating up so it's nice and warm, ease myself in beside him. Hold him from behind, my erection digging into his backside, my fingers tracing themselves along his wrists, finding those whiplashes he showed me earlier. "You were playing a dangerous game, boy." I tell him. "I had to…I didn't know what else to do…" Get hold of the soap and start running it over his chest, down to his groin but not quite down to that erection which seems to have sprung back up again. Take the soap round to his buttocks now, rub it between them. He's groaning, pushing back into me and I know what he wants me to do. "You think you can take me?" I whisper. "Yes. Please…just do it. Please, fuck me. Please, please…" Well, who could resist? "Alright, boy. Stand with your hands on the wall, butt out, that's right. Now don't move your hands. I don't want them going anywhere near that dick of yours. Remember, if you come, game's over. No whips, nothing!" "Yes, sir. Please…." Run my hands over his buttocks, his hole opening up for me so sweetly and easily, quite relaxed. Press myself in, slowly, inch by careful inch. He's shifting a bit, sobbing. "Having trouble taking me, boy?" "No! Yes…please don't stop." That's my cue to start really pumping, back and forward, seizing his shoulders and pulling him back, pushing him forwards again, watching to make sure he keeps his hands against the wall even when I'm shoving into him. He's trying! Bless him. Oh but this is good. Tight, submissive, nice…especially the sobbing moaning sounds he's making. Take it, fox cub, take it. **** Shit it hurts but it's so good. I want him to hurt me. That fat cock filling me up, tearing me up, me tight around it, swallowing it right up to the balls…the water's still pouring down on top of us, I can't breathe, I want to come, I want…oh god this is brilliant…he's come! Finished, pulling out of me, panting, getting hold of me and pulling me round to face him, keeping away from my dick, kissing my neck, biting me…fingers pinching my nipples, tongue licking at my earlobes…oh this is ecstacy. I worship you, master! Grab the soap, start soaping his body. He hasn't pushed me away, he's allowing me this. Scrub that dick and it's started to get hard again! Shit, what sort of a superhuman guy is this? Or of course, it could just be the power of my irresistable charms…dream on, Mulder! Down on my knees, sucking him. He's really hard now, but I don't think he'll be able to come straight off. That's good, all the more sucking for me…his hands are in my wet hair and he's looking down on me, still so stern, so strict…shit, stop thinking about that, Mulder. You don't want to come just yet. **** Well this is very nice. He's stopped talking and being a smart ass and started addressing himself to my needs. Very good. I think he can be rewarded now. "Come on, boy." Pull away from him, get hold of his arm and propel him out of the shower, turning it off. Wrap a towel around my waist. He can stay naked, I like him that way, wet and naked, water dripping off him, his hair all glistening. Put him on his knees on the carpet, a dripping puddle of a man with an huge hard-on. He's done well to hold himself back for so long. He really is very good. "Now what is it you want most, boy?" Crouch in front of him, pull up his head, look deep into those hazel eyes. "I want you to whip me, sir. Please." Whispered, total capitulation. "Do you know what, boy?" "No, sir." "I want to whip you too. I've wanted to tie you up and whip you red raw from the moment I laid eyes on you. I want to punish you for every smart alec comment, every act of insubordination, every damn stupid lie you ever told me!" **** I'm drowning. These are words I never thought I'd hear…words so beautiful they make me want to weep. "Do it then, sir. Please. I deserve it…" "Too right." Pulls me up, fastens me to the wall, picks up the whip, paces around with it behind me, runs it along my thighs and across my buttocks and I'm tense, on a knife edge…then it starts. First one across my shoulders and I scream and flail, comforting red flash of pain on my skin, inside my stomach, like spiders crawling around. Can't stop this…out of my control. He's in charge, he's always in charge. The next one falling on my buttocks, a familiar pain, and I'm screaming again. He likes it when I scream, and I want him to like doing this. I want him to like it so much that he does it again and again… **** I won't cut the flesh, tempting though it is. Another time maybe, when we've both got some leave owing to us and I can afford to spend a couple of days looking after him when it's over. He doesn't need it this time anyway. This whip is flat and broad, like a belt or a strap - it won't break the skin but it sure as hell hurts, especially when I'm swinging this hard. Down over the backs of his knees - not nice but I never said I was nice. And I did promise myself a whip and that I'd hurt every part of his body. I think I'm doing a good job…Of course I've had a lot of practice but never with somebody who meant as much to me as he does. My own, sweet fox cub, panting and sweating and crying under my whip! Raise my arm, flick across his upper arms. Back to buttocks, random, idle, pause to drag his head back and whisper in his ear. "Is this hurting, boy?" "Yes, sir." "Do you want me to stop?" "No, sir." Hah! Another lick around his thighs… **** I don't know how long it lasted but it went on until every inch of me was on fire. Then it was over and I could feel his tongue on my back, licking at where he'd hurt me. Then he let me down, led me over to the bed, pushed me back and held me there, one strong arm holding me down, the other reaching for my cock - at last! "Don't come yet. You've done well, boy. Keep going, see how long you can hold out…" "Not while you're doing that! Please, let me…please! Can't hold out at all…" "Are you disobeying me, boy?" ****
"End game?" He asks, his eyes bright, happy and satisfied. "For now." I hold him, feeling that rush of tenderness that only a dom can know, for someone who has endured so much at your hands, and so sweetly capitulated to your will. **** Two hours! Yes that's how long I held that damn erection. Oh alright, it was on and off but more on than off and two goddamn hours! I can't believe the time. Really I should get an award for endurance. Now he's got up, pulled his jeans on and tossed me my trousers. "Hungry, Mulder?" "I guess." I follow him into the kitchen and he rustles us up a meal. We don't talk, just eat, looking at each other. I guess I'm looking a bit goofy but he seems positively high. All relaxed and shiny and bright on some dom plane of consciousness I can only guess at. I can say, in complete honesty, that this was the best night of my entire life. After supper he leads me back out to the couch and sits down, pulling me so I'm lying on my back with my head in his lap, staring up at him and losing myself all over again in that strong neck, those shoulders, the powerful muscles, the stern jaw….and he's playing with my hair, turning the TV on, flicking through some channels….shit! Was that a gunshot?
"This is cosy! I went looking for Mulder but I couldn't find him. So I thought I'd come here to settle this score instead." Krycek! He's blown the door off its hinges and he's standing with his gun pointed at us. My own gun is in my jacket pocket, slung over the chair on the other side of the room. God knows where Mulder's gun is."You see I wanted to get my own back for this, amongst other things." And he moves into the light so that we can see the artificial arm. "You, I haven't forgiven for that night I spent tied up out there." He's looking at me and moves his head in the direction of the balcony. "And as for you…" he advances on Mulder, waving his gun, "You beat up on me so many times that I think I deserve some revenge, don't I?" "Krycek…" Mulder opens his mouth but Krycek's gun is unwavering. Mulder and I are standing side by side, both bare-chested. "Shut it, Mulder. I never thought of you two as being a couple before. It's so unexpected - and so amusing!" "Spare us the talk, Krycek. If you want to kill us you'll have to decide which one to go for. You won't get both of us and the other one will be on you before you pull that trigger twice." I tell him. "Is that so?" And he aims deliberately for Mulder. "No!" I can't bear it. To have found such a great player and then to lose him. "He's mine, Krycek." And nobody but me is allowed to hurt him. Nobody. I've thrown myself in front of the gun and Mulder's ducked, and pushed the couch over into Krycek at the same time. The gun goes off and I wait to feel if I've been hurt but there's nothing…I'm on my feet again, on Krycek, knock him down, tear that gun out of his hand, pound my fist into his face until he loses consciousness and then turn round…. **** "Mulder? Fox?" Somebody's talking to me. I can't think properly. There's a pain in my shoulder that reaches all the way down my body to my feet. "Alright. You're going to be okay. Shit. Stop bleeding, Fox." "Is that an order?" I mumble, trying to smile. "Yes." And he's on the phone, trying to make a call, then slamming it down. "Damn! I'll take you there myself." Disappears, reappears in tee shirt, wraps me in a blanket and picks me up in his arms like a goddamn baby. Is he really this strong? I'm not exactly light! Out of the apartment, down to the elevator, holding me close, kissing my hair. Into the parking lot, gently into the car, lose consciousness on the way to the hospital. **** Well honestly - did you think it was me who landed him in hospital? I'm a very safe player - I pride myself on it. He'll be fine although I had a worrying couple of hours waiting. I went straight out and bought him an enormous bunch of flowers to brighten up his room and delivered them to him in person the next day. Doms can be sweet, sensitive, loving souls as well you know. "Krycek?" He asks, our eyes meeting over the flowers. I've signed the card 'W' with a big flourish and Scully will undoubtedly soon be asking him awkward questions about where they came from. I know, it’s cruel of me, but I can't stop playing with him just because he's in hospital! I'm sure he'll think up a very plausible explanation for the 'W'. "Don't worry about him." I smile. "What did you do with him?" Anxious eyes. "Oh, I just tied him up…somewhere nice and cold and high up. I haven't finished with him yet." "Are you trying to make me jealous?" Pout. Winsome lips! "No. I promise you that whatever I do to Krycek will bring him no pleasure whatsoever." "Good." I wish I could kiss him but instead I satisfy myself with running my fingers over his hand. "Get well soon, boy." Give just enough gruff inflection in that last word to make his eyes go all sappy. "Another order, sir?" "Yes, Mulder. One you'll obey if you want to play with me again any time soon…"
Soon. Yes. One order I'll be obeying without question. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me…. THE END Feedback to Xanthe@xanthe.org
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