From: nicholas@dreamscapeforums.zzn.com
Date: 17 Jan 2004 08:13:19 -0800
Subject: [atxc-pi] NEW: Pet -NC-17- (0/1)
Source: atxc

Title: Pet 
Author: Nicholas 
Feedback Email: nicholas@dreamscapeforums.zzn.com 
Author's Website: http://www.geocities.com/nicholasmirror 
Archive at Gossamer: Yes to Gossamer 
Status: NEW - Standalone 
Size: 24k 
Category: PWP, BDSM 
Pairings: Mulder/Krycek 
Rating: NC-17 
Gossamer Category: Story ~ Sex (PWP) ~ Slash 
Summary: someone is being claimed. 

Part 1
Please see part 0 (template) for story information.

Title: Pet
Author: Nicholas

E-Mail: nicholas@dreamscapeforums.zzn.com

Pairing: M/K
Rating: NC-17
Category: BDSM, PWP

Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Alex Krycek, Walter Skinner and all the other
X-Files characters belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions
and 20th Century FOX Broadcasting. No copyright infringement is
intended and no profit is being made from their use.

Notes: Beta'd by Gaby, the mistakes left are mine alone.

--

He comes home. The door opens slowly, very slowly and he seems to
sense that something is off. He turns on the light, the gun already
drawn, and moves into the room with this special grace he has, the
eyes wary, the expensive Armani suit crumpled from his latest
adventure, the dust from Idaho's desert still clinging to him. He
looks tired, weary, but alert enough to keep his gun straight. His
first cursory glance reveals nothing. Then he concentrates on the
details and becomes aware of the handcuffs gleaming enticingly on the
table, beckoning him to move closer. He relaxes a fraction until he
realizes he isn't supposed to give in without a fight because he never
does. Such an open book. It's entertaining to watch the play of
emotions across his features - the shock, the arousal, the frustration
and the cold mask of indifference, set to be broken again as he is to
be freed.

"Krycek," he calls out, the gun still pointing in all directions as
the young man, clad in black, emerges from the kitchen. A glass with a
liquid, most probably vodka, is firmly in his grip, a smug sneer, half
grin decorates his face. His lips are thin, but the flicker in his
eyes talks of an apparent enjoyment lying ahead.

He lifts the glass in greeting. "Cheers," he says with a badly faked
British accent and he smiles a lazy smile that makes young Fox advance
on him, the barrel of the gun finally touching Alexei's well-muscled
chest dead on, Fox could kill him now. Alexei's eyes assess the
situation, judgement already passed. He grips Fox's weapon with his
right hand, plucks it from him easily, secures it. His eyes never
leaving Fox's, he drops it to the ground, kicks it over the floor
where it slithers along the floorboard until it bangs against the wall
with a clang of metal on stone. At the sound, Fox's eyes dart there
and only slowly move back to Alexei's.

"Fuck off, Krycek," Fox now says without much conviction, such a
see-through act, a display Alexei only registers with a disapproving
shake of his head.

"Insolence, Fox," he replies sweetly, setting the glass down onto the
low coffee table right next to him. "Why do you always need these
displays of attitude? You surrender so sweetly eventually, why these
stubborn child-like antics when it is truly what you desire?" The
fingers of his right hand draw a caress onto Fox's cheeks until the
spiteful, willful creature reacts with an attempted boxing move only
to have his hand stopped in a squeezing grip of Alexei's left. Alexei
swiftly uses the chance to turn Fox around and lay him flat on the
table's surface face down, the handcuffs soon decorating Fox's wrists,
the light breaking in the shiny metal.

Fox is a bundle of constant movement, never still, but panting,
twisting, fighting against the restraints, knocking over the glass,
liquid spilt and eventually he ends on the floor. Alexei uses the
chance to put a spreader bar between his feet and Fox exhausts
himself, writhes on the ground, fights against the restraints, against
Alexei's caresses on his face, his touches on his body, the ruffling
of his hair, his combing through sweat-soaked strands.

Alexei appears clearly amused by Fox antics, the fight, the sweet way
of surrender. The end result will be more than merely sweet but the
attraction Alexei sees in that caged animal writhing for him is
obvious through the change in breathing, the change in movement, the
adjustment of the bulge in his pants as his other hand is stroking
along the suit-clad back and legs of his plaything, the untamed pet
that purrs so sweetly once he is in firm hands. And firm those hands
are, kneading the cramping muscles that will be sore tomorrow.

"Give in," he whispers, his lips half an inch from Fox's ear,
heightening his thrashing once more with these words until the quiet
mewling sounds announce a change in pace. The conflict apparent now,
resisting the urge to submit, always resisting with all he has until
the caress is too soft, too pleasant to be hated. Until he is too
needy to keep up the resistance, too desperate to reject the contacts,
too starved for affection, love, attention. So he has no choice,
hasn't had one from the start. The only way is to submit, and he knew
that from the minute his eyes discovered the handcuffs on the table,
aware of the implication even then. The fight, not a game, never a
game for him but survival instinct taking over, the need to remain
strong, to remain in control of everything, to never allow anyone else
to take over for him. The fight is fruitless, Alexei too skilled a
master in this area of life, too much expertise for a novice such as
Fox, and so he has to give up.

The will to fight leaves him and the beautiful surrender brings a
gentle smile to Alexei's face, a caress to Fox's hair and
sweat-drenched face, cooing words of praise and endearment whispered
into his ear. The last lines on Fox's face, the last shreds of fight,
a flickering wild thrash as the last hope withers away and then he
calms down, completely still. The cramped muscles relax fraction by
fraction until the figure on the ground is completely languid, silent,
no eye contact with Alexei, his shame preventing anything other than
the physical surrender for a moment.

Alexei's fingers touch his pet's face, his chin. He grips it and turns
it to establish eye contact, to establish the dynamics. The
never-changing, unwavering, never-relenting power of Alexei's eyes
only slowly sinks in. The expression in these eyes doesn't change,
they don't harden, don't soften and Fox obviously recognizes what he
finds in them as he slumps further. He recognizes it as what it is as
he capitulates, his eyes lowered once more, in submission. And Alex
lets him go.

"Kneel," his voice cuts through the room, startling the man on the
floor to a stunned, fearful expression, to alertness. Alexei's
eyebrows are rising and Fox reacts with frantic movements, tries to
force his body into a kneeling position, exerting his muscles to the
greatest again, alert eyes always on the one giving the commands,
careful for any sign of displeasure that might be seen. Alexei
patiently waits for his pet to follow his commands. The struggle to
his knees takes the last will and strength to fight out of Fox, his
legs shaking from exhaustion once he has managed them into the
required position.

"Good boy," Alexei whispers into his ear now and donates a soft kiss
onto his lips. It makes Fox cringe and blush - embarrassment again? He
turns his head to the side, avoiding to look at the man, not quite
prepared for the praise. The hand on his chin quickly redirects the
attention.

"Accept it, boy," Alexei clarifies, receiving a nodded reply which he
comments by raising his eyebrows.

"Yes, Sir," Fox corrects himself softly, the eyes shyly on the man
holding him captive. The man who is once more mapping his face with
his hands, along the ears, the hair, down the neck, making the
kneeling man shiver visibly.

"Let's undress you," Alexei decides which earns him an expression that
is attempting indifference but barely manages to conceal the interest,
the arousal that makes his cock tent the suit pants he is wearing.

"The cuffs are unfortunate now," Alexei muses as his hands are already
loosening the tie with a few quick pulls. He lets it drop to the side.
The shirt is next, with the jacket already open, the buttons easily
pop free. The moving fingers explore every square inch, caress,
scratch, pinch, and Fox's eyes are closing. A moan, half a purr rises
from his throat to echo heartfelt in the open room, and a smile of
appreciation plays over Alexei's lips. He pulls the shirt free from
the pants. The light movement causes air to peak Fox's nipples into
little nubs which immediately catches Alexei's interest. He pinches
them, softly at first, then increasing pressure, a careful,
controlling glance on Fox's reactions who appears to want to be from
and with the continuing ministrations. The growl rising in his throat
is wrestled to submissive acceptance, obviously satisfaction, with the
caresses. Alexei moves on, pulling both the jacket and shirt over
Fox's shoulder and arms, down to the bound wrists where the clothes
are left hanging, held by the cuffs.

"Proudly," he admonishes Fox's slumped position who immediately
kneels, displaying his albeit moderately muscled chest, consequently
also pushing his basket outwards. Alexei's eyes focus on that. He
caresses the contours of Fox's cock through the protecting cover once,
from base to head, apparently ignoring Fox's whimpers but luxuriating
in them. With a well-aimed grip his hand closes around Fox's balls,
creating a slightly pain-filled sound in his captive's throat. Once
more Alexei doesn't move his hand until the full submission, the full
acceptance of his actions is reached. He then lets go and swiftly
unbuckles Fox's belt, pulls the zipper down and watches how the pants
drift to the ground, only to be stopped by Fox's raging hard-on, and
finally they pool around Fox's knees with a little help.

"No underwear," Alexei remarks, mock-astonished, causing a helpless
blush on Fox's face again, then he steps back, observing the image of
a wet dream come true: the thighs, trembling from the exertion of the
kneeling position and the excitement that must be coursing through his
veins freely. Alexei goes down on one knee and although kneeling he
still represents a picture of domination. He puts his lips to Fox's,
plundering his mouth. His tongue darts out to map the lips first, then
to explore the mouth's interior intimately, leaving Fox not much of a
chance but to cooperate, to respond to the kiss that's ravishing his
mouth with brutal intensity.

The hand behind his head keeps their lips glued together and leaves no
other way but to enjoy the sensation created by the rich mouth on his.
Fox's lips are still moving when Alexei has already pulled away. His
face is now an attractive mix of wanton, need and heady arousal,
mixed, still mixed with a remaining bit of stubbornness and
spitefulness which both diminish by the second. With every touch that
aims to pleasure the willing body the resistance weakens.

Another hair ruffle and Fox's attention is focussed again. Alexei
forces his hands to drop noticeably slow from Fox's hair and he places
them on his own thighs, thumbs hooked into the waistband of his pants,
his palms framing his crotch, further pronouncing the bulge that
leaves Fox's mouth hanging open, the figurative spittle dripping to
the ground.

Fox knee-walks closer to the treasure, an awkward inch-by-inch
movement that is halted by Alexei's hand making a 'stop'-motion. Fox
stills, eyes still glued to his prize as Alexei unzips his
leather-pants, reaches into his boxer-shorts and moves his cock and
balls into the open, supported by his shorts' waistband. A few tugs as
he watches Fox's hungry gaze through slitted eyes. Then he steps
closer to his pet and allows him to gently mouth his equipment,
slathering it up and down with saliva, the spittle mixing with precum
and running down Fox's chin, dripping onto his chest from there,
creating a sticky trail which doesn't appear to faze Fox in the
slightest. He enthusiastically continues to lick the prize offered to
him, knowing he has to wait for the one command.

"You may," Alexei gives in, barely hanging on to control, but
experienced enough to keep his posture intact. The 'go'-command makes
Fox swallow the piece of meat bit by bit, obviously enjoying the feel
of it in his mouth and on his tongue as he allows it to glide over it
repeatedly. His eyes are closed in bliss, his posture relaxed,
trusting Alexei not to step back and leave him off-balance with his
wrists cuffed behind him.

Alexei's hands move back to grip Fox's head and he pumps himself
leisurely in and out, savoring the feel of the lips on his cock,
blissing out in the hot wet cavern of Fox's mouth, the sensual
stroking of the tongue along his sensitized skin. Alexei's mouth hangs
open. His face creases as the tension, the need for completion becomes
stronger, more prominent a thought. Getting off, spurting into Fox's
mouth, the desire at seeing Fox's face rapt by the possibility to be
granted the pleasure of tasting his cum - it gets to him.

Fox stares at Alexei wide-eyed, drinking in the man towering over him,
drinking in the way his hands feel guiding him in an out. Alexei's
eyes fall close, a groan travels from his throat and his seed spills
into Fox's mouth who fights to keep up with the flow of hot liquid
cascading down his throat. He swallows quickly, his Adam's apple
bopping with every muscle movement of his throat. The squeezed eyes
from the first contact of cum and tongue soon give way to pure arousal
and adoration and gratefulness.

Alexei pulls away from Fox's lips gently, steadying him with a hand to
his shoulder when the intensity on his sensitized cock is too much to
bear.

"Thank you, Fox."

Fox looks up, surprised by the deadly sarcasm, paired with honest
thanks and implied praise, in the voice. He ducks his head again,
decides for submissive and awaits further instructions.

Alexei's head is cocked to the side, in apparent mock-thought, with
his fingers tapping his cheek and his eyes wandering off to look for
an answer in the stars. "Well, I have an idea. Let's get you onto the
table," he finally explains jovially, chuckling at Fox's
uncomprehending face. "Seeing you already took care of everything
that's been on it with your previous little fighting interlude, we
have a nice clean surface for our next adventure, don't you think? So
do get on the table...or else.."

He leaves the threat hanging in the air.

"How do you want me, ...Sir?" Fox asks, clearly stumbling over the
words and their implication, although his cock gives a lurch at the
sound of them.

"Interesting," Alexei comments dryly, giving the erection a tap,
"well, on your back, I think. Then I have all the good parts to play
with."

"Yes, Sir," Fox whispers with a dry throat as he knee-walks to the
table and brings himself to stand after an exhausting struggle with
the spreader bar. Then he carefully sits on the table first, testing
for weight. "My arms, Sir?" he asks unsurely, gesturing helplessly
with his head that his current bondage makes the requested position
barely possible.

Without saying a word Alexei loosens the cuffs, the tension in his
upper body betrays the image of languid calmness he wants it to
portray. Fox merely drops the now freed clothes to the floor and
tentatively lies down flat, painfully aware of his nakedness and the
open display he is presenting. His breath flows with shuttering gasps
from his body while his eyes are dancing along the ceiling before they
close in silent defeat.

Alexei takes his time to take in the shivering body laid out for him,
to caress the glowing skin, to allow his hand to travel freely. His
hand, although enjoying all of the body, always comes back to play
with Fox's proud cock. Alexei's ears pick up on the strained sounds
Fox makes in reaction to the sensations created on his body. He
squirms in the non-existent bondage, only to be stilled by a slap to
his thigh that causes his eyes to snap open - near defiance that
Alexei counters with raised eyebrows once more, continuing his
exploration nevertheless.

With a last appreciative glance Alexei leaves Fox on the table as he
disappears in the kitchen, leaving Fox in obvious confusion. Just as
the submissive boy wins some of his fight back, just as he is on the
verge of getting up, his muscles tensing, just as he is getting ready
to jump and run, the chance is lost.

"Tsk, tsk," Alexei says from the doorway, no doubt recognizing the
signs of impending action. "You better lie back down right now before
the consequences for what you were just about to do become more than
only a kind threat."

Fox forces his shoulders back onto the table, closes his eyes and
gulps audibly.

"Look what I have brought here for you," Alexei continues, losing
himself in the moment and at the same time, finding himself in this
project of his.

Fox glances at the bonds, a heavy steel and leather combination that
won't leave him any chance to free himself. Another gulp that elicits
a smirk from Alexei, "Say, 'Thank you, Alex, you are so nice to me'."

With a slight shake of his head, not waiting for an answer, Alexei
begins to fasten the bonds to Fox's wrists and ankles and the
respective table legs, strapping Fox in effectively before he removes
the spreader bar. He allows Fox to struggle, to no more than
mock-fight the imprisonment before another slap to Fox's thigh diverts
his attention from his predicament.

"Look what else we have here," Alexei continues his explanations while
he lays out a candle that he immediately lights, ice cubes in a dish,
a butt plug and a slip. Fox's eyes move along the row of toys, almost
lightening up at the sight of the candle and the ice cubes, only to
have him blanch and close his eyes in a weak struggle upon recognizing
the last of the objects. The garment is well-known and well-worn.

"Let's get started then. I hope everything is to your satisfaction,"
Alexei remarks with another smirk. "I suppose I'll find the lube in
its usual place?" he asks non-chalantly, already opening one of the
drawers. His eyes never leave his pet's body as he is squirting a
generous amount of lube onto the butt plug and advances on Fox.
Stopping dead he shakes his head dramatically. "Now why did you make
me tie you before I was prepared? Why didn't you say something?" he
admonishes snidely, setting the plug down with a plop-and-squish sound
onto Fox's stomach before he proceeds to untie his pet's legs with a
sigh.

There is no resistance in Fox's eyes, they only widen at the familiar,
yet foreign feeling of the plug finally plopping into place in his
ass. His sphincter muscle is flexing around the intruder, making it
dance wildly as his eyes take on an almost bewildered expression.

"And now, what do we have here?" Alexei asks, dangling the almost
see-through, once-white slip from his index finger. The slip's
structured material shows flowers, the frilly decorations look
well-stretched. Alexei's eyebrows rise questioningly. He wants an
answer.

"It's...I...please, Sir," Fox stammers embarrassed, yet drawn to the
piece of clothing with his eyes.

Alexei draws the slip over Fox's upper body, the smirk becomes a notch
sharper while he is twirling the flimsy material around Fox's nipples,
still waiting.

"It's a slip, Sir," Fox presses out with a rush of air, his voice
shaky.

"And whose slip would it be, boy?" Alexei continues to inquire, his
eyes fixed on the garment's journey over his captive's body.

Fox gulps, pleads with his eyes and finds cold indifference. "It's my
slip, Sir," he gives in barely audible.

"Your slip?" Alexei's voice booms in the silent room, smiling at Fox's
miserable nod. "And why would you happen to own a piece of *female*
clothing?" Alexei ends, his tone heightening the quiet, menacing
atmosphere as his hand with the slip encloses Fox's engorged cock.

"You gave it to me for my birthday last year. You told me I had to
wear it every time you'd come to see me. That you would dress me in
it. To show me what sort of cheap slut I am to you," Fox replies
desperately, a few tears squeezing from both his eyes and his cock.

"Isn't that right...a birthday present for my slut-boy and you better
just honor me by wearing it."

With a few decisive movements Alexei pushes the slip up Fox's legs
until it rests snugly on his hips, encasing the cock and balls in a
satiny prison that they appear to burst out of any minute. A picture
of pure decadence. Alexei claps his hands a few times with a slow,
tense sound that rings out loud in the otherwise silent room. Praise
and flowers for this picture of aroused misery. He pets the bulge with
a grin. "All mine," he comments confidently.

Unseen by Fox he grabs one of the ice cubes from the table, making
sure they are already dripping a bit of water. He holds the cube
between thumb and index finger and presses it to the tip of Fox's
cock, which is only protected by the thin slip, without a warning. No
built-up, no foreplay, dead on. Fox jumps in his bondage, his mouth
opens on a scream that remains soundless. Alexei makes no move to
remove the ice cube from its current position but rather makes sure it
keeps the contact all through Fox's squirming and struggling to escape
the freezing sensation that soon enough numbs the skin.

With the ice cube melted away by Fox's heat, Alexei observes the
panting object for a second before a wicked grin spreads over his
face. Another cube is transferred into one hand while the other one
draws down the very wet slip far enough to pull out the plug. Fox's
frantic babbles show that he already knows what is coming next.
Without further ado Alexei pulls out the plug, pushes the ice cube
inside and seals Fox's ass again. He moves the slip back into the
correct position and watches Fox's agony with arousal. His hand is
freely kneading his bulge which wins in importance with the sweat
breaking out on Fox's skin, with the fuck-movements he is
involuntarily making, with the cock and balls that are visible through
the thin and wet cloth of the slip.

As Fox's movements quieten down Alexei pushes away from his position
and watches his prey. His hand closes around the candle. Fox opens his
eyes at the long silence and begins to shake as he discovers the flame
and molten wax. "No, no," he mumbles almost incoherently.

Always observing his eyes, Alexei tips the candle right above Fox's
naked chest. His eyes never leave Fox's as the first drops of wax drip
down. He is blindly painting figures on the almost hairless skin, his
eyes trained solely on his pet's face.

With the first sign of relaxation he lets the wax travel lower finally
aiming exactly at the previously ice cube-tortured cock head. He
watches with fascination how Fox's eyes first widen in horror then in
need, as the fuck movements increase. Eventually the eyes loll back
into his head as his cock erupts into the wet and waxed slip.

Alexei sets the candle down. Then he reaches into his pants and with a
few pulls, the eyes on his art exhibit, he brings himself off all over
Fox's body, adding a few puddles of cum to the wax and remaining
water.

He tucks himself back inside moments after the fountain has stopped
spewing, observes the perfect picture for another second before he
collects the dish with the now melted ice cubes and the candle to
carry them back into the kitchen. Certain that he left no evidence
except for Fox himself he loosens the restraints, then takes a piece
of paper from Fox's printer and puts a few words down. Another check
that Fox is still breathing and he walks to the door. Turning slightly
to the left and looking straight into the camera, he comes closer,
pinning the piece of paper to it, disallowing any further view at the
unconscious man and his predator.

I chuckle at the message, smoke flowing from my lungs, just as I hear
him leaving the apartment. The words are in neat handwriting, "Hands
off, he is mine."

Silly boy.

~ The End ~




### The End ###