Title:  Penance, Chapter Five: Abeyance
Author:  Zoë
Website:  http://slashfactory.com/
Fandom:  X-Files
Pairing:  Krycek/Mulder
Rating:  NC-17 for m/m sex (and everything in the warning)
Warning:  Very dark, violence, physical, mental and emotional abuse and/or torture, disturbing thoughts and images. Please proceed cautiously!
Archive:  Please ask
Spoilers:  Canon through season five
Summary:  Can Mulder and Krycek get through the aftermath and to the next test?
Beta Thanks:  Ursula, thanks for hanging in there!

Disclaimer:  Alex Krycek, Fox Mulder and all other X-Files characters belong to Chris Carter and 1013 Productions. No infringement of rights is intended. All the rest belong to me



Abeyance   by Zoë

**

The warm water pounding on my back is an acute blend of relief and pain. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and let the water wash away the sweat and blood and fear.

The shower curtain being drawn brings my attention to Mulder stepping into the shower. My eyes follow the streaks of blood down his body until I get to his half hard dick. I snap my gaze back to his face. His lips quirk up as one brow arches in inquiry. I open my mouth to speak, but realize I have nothing to say.

Mulder gestures for me to turn around. I pivot to face the wall and let the water pour over my face. Am I going to feel nervous every time he's behind me? Probably. I wish he'd just say 'I'm going to fuck you one week from today at six' rather than mind fucking me like this.

A washcloth passing across my shoulder both surprises me and causes a gasp of pain. That stings. I grit my teeth and force myself to be still as Mulder begins to wash my back.

I watch the water swirl toward the drain, noticing the slight pinkish tinge. A voice in my head tells me I should have some feeling about this... that's my blood changing the color of the water. But I just don't care. It's a trivial price for not having to swim in my own self-loathing. Even if it's only for a few minutes.

Mulder hits an especially tender spot near my ribs and I can't prevent the groan. Without warning, the washcloth is gone. There's nothing for a few seconds, then I feel him press against me. Feel his hard-on against my ass. I stop breathing, frozen in place.

His fingers trail over my butt, then down my thighs, lightly skimming along some very tender flesh. I wince and have to take a breath.

"You really are a slow learner," Mulder whispers against my ear.

"What?" Is there some back washing lesson I missed?

He grips my hips tightly. "Not 20 minutes ago, you were completely relaxed, completely content. Now, your body is taut as a bowstring and your anxiety is palpable." Hit thumbs rasp over some prominent welts. Instinctively, I try to twitch away, but he holds firm. "What's the difference between then and now?"

I try to find the answer, but nothing comes to mind. "I don't know... I'm doing everything you say." Why doesn't he just tell me what's wrong? Why be so fucking cryptic about everything?

"Are you being deliberately obtuse?"

"No!" Twisting my head, I'm able to a catch his eye. "What do you want?"

Mulder's expression is oddly tranquil. "Twenty minutes ago, you had surrendered to the pain I gave you. You accepted it; let it become a part of you. Now, you're fighting it. With every breath you take, you struggle against it. And you're not just fighting the sensation of pain; you fight letting me know that it hurts you."

He moves one of his hands, capturing my jaw, and turning my face away. Then he guides my hand to the wall, pushing against me until I lay my forearm flat on the tiles and lean into it. His hand returns to my hip, thumb once again finding the tender spot. "I press on these welts," his thumbs dig into my flesh, "and you tense. What I want is for you to give in... to relax when I do this." He rubs the welts firmly, and I try to block it out, to choke down a gasp. I know I'm doing exactly what he said not to, but it's an automatic response. "If you accept it, you won't be able to hold back those sounds of pain." He sighs, as if he's seeking patience. "That first night you said you didn't know how not to fight. Remember?" His voice is soft, coaxing.

"Yes... I remember."

"And what did I say to you?"

The words replay in my head several times before I can say them. "That I'd have to learn."

Abruptly, he's gone... his hands, his body. Eventually, he murmurs, "Show me that you've learned something."

I'm furiously trying to figure out what to do when I feel the washcloth on my back again. It hurts. That's just a fact. So, what do I do? Don't fight... don't fight... I don't know how to think my way into this. Then the answer is obvious... stop thinking.

I turn off my mind and let the sensations be. The pain becomes more diffuse, as if it's my entire body, not just random places on my back. It's soothing in its predictability. Reminds me of a blanket... warm and comforting, but in a way I've never experienced. I rest my head against my arm and relax into it.

Mulder's touch is pretty gentle. Though the areas that hurt the worst get the most attention... areas where the skin was broken. Each of those elicits a moan of pain. I'm not sure when I closed my eyes, but in a weird way I can see myself through the pain. A me I don't recognize.

It registers that my body is subtly moving in sync with the motion of Mulder's touch. "That's it," he murmurs as he rubs the cloth methodically over my ass. The sensation is so sharp, I gasp. I press into it, beyond acceptance into need.

When Mulder moves on to my thighs, I spread my legs so he can get to the most sensitive area. When he cleans the torn flesh on my inner thighs, I start to tremble. It's hard to remain standing.

The pain is perfection. Then it's over.

Mulder's hands manipulate my body and I feel the water pour down my back, rinsing away the soap. His hand appears in front of me, holding another washcloth and a bar of soap. It takes a second for me to realize I'm supposed to take it.

I turn, eyes immediately drawn to Mulder's body, tracing the smears of blood. There's no thought about what to do, I just act on instinct. Soap up the cloth, get rid of the bar, move closer. I bring the cloth to his chest, wiping away blood and sweat. As I move to his abdomen, it finally sinks in that he's now fully erect. And that seems right. I look up, meeting his gaze. His face is so expressionless, but his eyes sear me with their intensity. His approval feels like a lifeline.

Sinking to my knees is done without conscious thought. Washcloth covering my hand, I grip his thigh as I take his cock into my mouth. He groans, hips pushing forward. Odd bits of information filter through my brain, cues to techniques I don't remember learning. I apply pressure to the underside with my tongue, back off to attend to the sensitive head, then relax my throat and try to take him further than I have before.

Mulder is relaxed, calm. Abruptly, he takes over, using my mouth, my throat to take his pleasure. It's finished quickly, he thrusts hard, causing me to gag, then his cum is pulsing into my mouth. I lick his cock gently as it gradually subsides. He pulls out and I'm stunned that it was all so easy.

His finger is under my chin, tipping my head back. He's staring at me intently, as if trying to find some answer. I see him working something out and it worries me. The washcloth in my hand is a reminder that I need to finish the shower. I slide it over his body, grateful to have an excuse not to keep eye contact. Then we're done. I'm still drying off when Mulder disappears.

A few seconds alone. I turn my back to the mirror and gasp at what I find. I'm striped with red, black and blue from my shoulders to my knees. Many of the marks are raised welts, some just bruises, but Mulder was right, he only broke the skin in a few places. I feel like I should be horrified to see myself like this, but it feels right; like I should look this way. I don't want him to catch me looking in the mirror, so I finish rubbing the towel over my skin.

He returns to the bathroom a moment later, takes the towel from my hand, then quickly wraps a leather cuff around my wrist. I blink at it dumbly as he uses a padlock to attach a length of chain to a d-ring on the cuff.

I meet his gaze. "What..." I'm not sure what I want to ask.

Mulder tugs on the chain, pulling me into the bedroom. Out come a pair of handcuffs, one side affixed to the end of the chain, then he leans over, forcing me to lean with him, and attaches the other side to a slat in the middle of the headboard. I can't stand up straight, so I crane my neck around to look at him, waiting for him to explain.

His expression is like before... as if he's still trying to figure something out. "Bedtime."

"Bedtime?" I parrot back, not comprehending the meaning.

"Yes. Time to sleep."

"Sleep?"

Mulder rolls his eyes and manhandles me until I'm sitting on the bed. My ass and thighs complain about the contact and I flinch.

"I had other plans for tonight, but I've decided to wait." He nods toward my restraint. "No getting cold feet and sneaking out, because I'm not done with you yet."

None of which really addresses my confusion. "You want me to sleep with you?" That's just he height of weird.

"No." Mulder chuckles. "I always sleep on the couch, and don't plan to stop. You sleep here, unless you'd prefer the floor?"

I shake my head, still wondering what he's up to. He pulls the covers away and gestures for me to lie down. Since the cuff is attached in the middle, I can either sleep on my stomach or my back. That doesn't take much thought. I settle on my stomach, then test the restraint. I have plenty of lead, so I can stay comfortable, but I'm not getting out of this unless I chew through the leather.

Mulder's hands are on my ass. He traces the welts gently. I absorb the slight pain and wait for whatever's next. Suddenly, a blanket settles over me, the light is off, and Mulder's gone.

I'm alone in the dark, plenty of time to sort through my fragmented thoughts, my fragile emotions. I could do that... could climb into my head and think this through. Or I could stay in my body, stay in the pain that's such sweet relief, and makes me feel like I can actually rest. I choose to sleep.

Something wakes me, though I don't know what. I register the sunlight filtering through the blinds, the weight of a blanket on me, the odd sensation of leather wrapped around my wrist. I feel unusually at peace with my body.

Until I try to move.

Pain lances through me, as bad as anything I felt last night. My muscles are locked in place. I try to relax, knowing that's the only way to alleviate the discomfort, but I can't. My muscles continue to knot and bunch, and every twitch is agony.

"Stiff?" Mulder's voice.

I try to turn my head to see him, but can't. You don't realize how many muscles in your back you use to turn your head. There was a question... "Yeah."

The blanket is suddenly gone. "You need to piss?"

"Yeah." Can't move though. It's going to be a long day.

I feel hands, then Mulder rolls me onto my back.

"FUCK!" I yelp. I swear someone set off a pain bomb inside me.

Mulder's hand is on my dick, then I feel something hard and cold. "Go ahead." His voice has zero inflection.

"What?"

"Piss. Unless you want to hold it for several hours." Without warning, he presses on my bladder. That's not nice.

Fuck it. "I hurt too much to be indignant," I mutter and start to urinate.

Mulder sounds like he's choking on a laugh. When he moves away, I stare at the ceiling and try to get grounded in some way. I feel really unbalanced. Mulder would probably get peeved if I asked him to go away so I could think.

I track him as he returns to the room, noticing that he's still naked. He moves close, puts his hands on me, and flips me back over. I make some sort of pathetic sound and see black spots. When I'm capable of noticing anything but hurt, I feel something being affixed to my ankles. Then hear the rattle of chain. My imagination is jumping into hyper-drive when my legs are suddenly yanked apart. I hear a snap of metal. Despite the discomfort, I attempt to test my mobility. I can move my legs two or three inches. Closing my eyes, I just try to breathe. I guess we're getting right to it.

Something is being forced between my ankles, stretching my legs further apart. I have no room to move now. It happened so fast that I can't process anything. I'm panting, trying to stay calm. Then there's more pressure on my ankles. "Ah! Mulder... don't." Whatever he put between my legs is forcing them to open even more. The stretch is horrible, both for my muscles and my abused skin. My legs are so far apart now, my ass cheeks separate, and I feel air moving over my asshole.

There's the sound of faint tapping on metal. "This is a spreader bar. I can actually open you up quite a bit more, but we'll wait until your muscles are less stiff." He sounds cold, detached. "If you struggle at all, you'll find you have zero mobility in your legs. You have some room to wiggle in your torso, but you won't be able to get the leverage to get up or attempt to flip over. I only tell you this so you have the option of not wasting effort in pointless struggle."

I breathe in short little gasps, fighting panic. Whatever he's got planned for me is going to be horrible. I hear him leave the room, and want to test the restraints, but my muscles are too stiff. I don't even know what the point would be. I'm not sure why, but I didn't much consider bondage, so I wasn't prepared for feeling so helpless.

Mulder's back. I barely dare to breathe. He's on the bed. Then he's on me, straddling my hips, I feel his hard cock settle in the crack of my ass. I bang my head on the bed, knowing no other way to expression my frustration.

"Stop that!" Slippery hands slide up my back, rubbing in ever-widening circles. I lie still, torn between the discomfort of touch and intense confusion. He continues to rub my back and shoulders, periodically adding oil to my skin. His hands slide over an especially tender area and I flinch.

"Sink into the pain, Alex," he whispers.

Like last night. I want that again so desperately. I know what I have to do; stop reacting to the pain.

My muscles start to relax.

"When you're completely relaxed, I have something for you."

It sounds like it should be a good thing, but I just want to seek that elusive calm he gives me. My body gives way.

His hands knead more firmly into my tense muscles. My brain doesn't seem to interpret pain correctly as each wave of sensation feels more like satiation. "Okay, Alex, for as long as I'm doing this, you can ask any question you like, except ask me to explain the position I bound you in today."

I want to yell at him not to make me think, but the questions are already there, simmering under the surface. "What's with the plastic sheeting on the floor?" I mumble into the pillow as Mulder's thumb traces an especially tender welt.

Mulder chuckles. "I can't believe that's the first question." His hands never cease their hypnotic movement except to occasionally add more oil. "Something will happen here one day that requires it. I know when that will be, you do not. Right now, it serves to make you wonder what it's for."

"You're really sick, you know that?" It comes out sounding like a compliment.

"Is that your only question?"

"No." I find that I'm arching my back into his touch. "If I ask the same question about that bizarre chair in the living room, am I going to get the same answer?"

"Yes."

"And the rubber sheet on the bed?"

"Yes."

"And the eyebolts in the wall and ceiling?"

"Yes."

"Okay." I turn my head to the other side, though my eyes are still closed. "Why do I feel calm when you hurt me?"

Mulder's hands pause briefly. "Do you really want me to answer that question?"

I didn't even want to ask it; so the answer is obvious. "No."

"And why not?"

"I don't think I'm ready to hear it yet."

Mulder's fingers dig in hard and I groan. "You're not ready. But you will be soon." His touch returns to the soothing massage motion. "Do you have any questions you're ready to hear the answer to?"

"Last night, you said you changed your plans. What was that about? You change your mind about something?"

"You weren't ready. Also, I needed to carefully consider some things I saw in you last night. And don't even ask about that." Gentle fingers trace my ribcage. "It's still going to happen, just consider that plan held in abeyance for the moment. Next question..."

The one I most want to ask is just waiting. "Do you really think you're going to be able to turn me into a fag?"

"Alex, that's perhaps the dumbest question..." His hands move low on my back, right above my hips, the sensation spikes for a second. "You were born a straight man, you'll die a straight man. That's just your orientation. But eventually, we'll add a strong preference for me to your sexual repertoire. There will come a day when, in your mind, having my cock buried in your ass is the height of sexual ecstasy."

Hmm. "I don't really see that."

"You don't? Well, let's see..." He stretches out on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress. The stretch on my legs and ass is beyond too much, the sensation of my welts against his skin is agony, but I feel any remaining body tension drain away.

His lips are near my ear when he whispers, "Keep your eyes closed and just listen to me." His fingers brush my hair off my forehead. "Just be in your body... there's a dull ache everywhere, the overstretched muscles burn, your whip marks sting. Where the whip hit your balls and your asshole... it's like a constant, sharp reminder of what you submitted to last night, and what you'll submit to again. All this sensation culminates inside you, taking you to a place where you think you don't feel. In reality, you do feel. Quite intensely. You feel calm, you feel grounded, but what you don't feel is the oppressive guilt you carry around like an albatross."

It feels like everything I am revolves around what he's saying. I can't fight any of it because I don't have the will anymore.

Mulder's lips graze my earlobe. "I've given those things to you. You suffer for me, and I give you what you most desperately need. You know by now that it doesn't matter what you thought you needed, or what you expected; you're going to get what I give you. What I deem you need. And you've found that that's enough." I don't like hearing the truth so plainly exposed. "Now, I want you to repeat back what I say. And when you repeat it, you remember that whatever you have only exists because I chose to give it to you."

He kisses the side of my neck. "Mulder gives me pain."

"Mulder gives me pain," I whisper hoarsely.

"The pain... is erotic."

I swallow hard. "The pain is erotic." There's an odd sensation in my stomach.

"The pain makes me feel calm."

It's hard to make my lips work. "The pain makes me feel calm."

"The calm is sexual."

My skin starts to tingle. "The calm is..." I gasp for breath. "Sexual."

Mulder's fingers circle to the front of my throat, teasing gently. "Are you in pain, Alex?"

"Yes," I gasp.

"What is pain?" he breathes into my ear.

"Erotic."

"Does the pain make you feel calm, Alex?

"Yes."

"And how do you feel when you're calm?"

I can't speak, nothing seems to work.

"Alex... answer me. How do you feel when you're calm?"

"Se-Sexual."

"So, right now, you're in a place that's intensely erotic and very sexual. Correct?"

It shouldn't be true, but somehow it is. "Yes."

"Who brought you to this place?"

"You did."

"Do you want to stay here?"

"Yes." More than anything.

His lips press right against my ear as he says, "Get hard for me."

"NO!" I start to fight, but all I can do is arch my back and throw my shoulders. Mulder's weight is off me. "No... Mulder... don't do this to me. Please."

"Shh." He slides his hands under my hips, fingers encircling my hard flesh. Made so against my will. "That's very good, Alex. I'm going to make it hurt a little." And his words make me harder.

I press my face into the mattress, wishing I could escape.

He draws my cock down, forcing it flat against the bed, between my helplessly spread legs. He pulls firmly. The amount of stretch he's putting on the shaft makes my eyes tear, and the pain ratchets my arousal, making it hurt even more.

Mulder's weight is back on top of me, his cock riding again between my ass cheeks. The added pressure on my own engorged flesh makes my ears ring. His lips find my ear again. "Don't challenge me, Alex. You force me to take you somewhere you weren't ready for. And now I have to change my plans again." He sighs. "The devastation you're feeling right now is probably more than enough punishment, but I feel that you need to better understand the consequences of this kind of challenge. So, I'm going to continue massaging you, working out these kinks, and it's going to hurt. And you're going to keep your erection the entire time."

"I hate you," I whisper into the sheet.

"I know you do, baby." The condescending endearment makes me want to strangle him.

The weight is off my back. He kneels between my legs and his hands slide over my ass. His fingers massage deep into aching muscles, pull at tender welts. My body is putty in his hands, but my emotions are in some kind of dangerous freefall.

I breathe pain and it soothes me. But the arousal continues to mount. My eyes feel wet, but I keep them closed, absently rubbing my face against the cool sheet.

When he moves on to my thighs, it becomes a whole new level. The hypersensitive skin of my inner thighs, combined with a deep massage into overstretched muscles creates a deep trembling that spreads through my entire body. Occasionally Mulder draws a finger down my aching cock, murmuring approval. I hate him... and me.

The work on my calves is a blessed respite. Not from the pain, but from the consequences of pain. But the respite is short. Hands are back on tender skin, pulling hard on my cock, arousing a sense of despair.

Mulder's slippery fingers find the tender, inflamed tissue around my anus. I'm no longer breathing, rather choking on air. He softly murmurs, "Cry, Alex. It'll make you feel better."

My mind rebels, but my body is completely under his control and the tears escape, soaking into the sheet. Then I'm able to breathe again. A finger penetrates me eliciting the first sob. It slowly moves in me, as if seeking something. Suddenly pleasure shoots through me, the most intense I've ever felt. My head arches back, and I'm panting. Oh, god... it's so perfect.

The finger is gone, the pleasure fades and Mulder whispers, "No more eroticism, Alex. Just pain."

"No!" He repositions my cock back underneath me. "Damn you, Mulder!" I yell at him.

His body rests on mine. "What are you damning me for, Alex?"

"You already know," I spit back at him.

"Of course I do, but I want to hear you say it."

I take a few steadying breaths. "You bastard... you nearly destroyed me to show me that pleasure, then you took it away!"

"You have to learn."

"Learn what?" I snap.

"That there are many things you need. Things beyond the pain you crave. And the only person who can give you any of it is me."

My body sags with defeat.

"I'm going to ask you a question, and you will be allowed to respond, but not from here." He taps my head. "The response must come from the well of need you're drowning in right now."

I wait for the question, not even bothering with thought.

"Right now, what do you most want from me, Alex?"

My groan of protest is instantaneous. The words are right there... he set this up last night. Bastard. "Please fuck me, Mulder."

"Good boy," he murmurs against my neck. "I will fuck you. Soon. But there's going to be more pain first."

"Mulder?" I venture cautiously.

"Yes?"

"Can I ask two more questions? Please?"

There's a long pause before he replies, "Ask the first."

I desperately need an answer to this question, but I'm afraid to ask. "The first night you..." I clear my throat. "You forgave me for something." I have to take a sudden breath. "Are you still? I mean, you haven't said anything."

A couple of fingers settle over my lips, rubbing slowly. "Yes, Alex. You're still being forgiven. I haven't said anything about it for a couple reasons. You'll understand better over time. But if you abide by our bargain, the forgiveness will be there. I promise."

I let out a ragged breath as the relief flows through me.

"What's your second question?"

Talking against his fingers, I murmur, "Something changed last night. At first I was worried you'd changed your mind; that you wouldn't see this through. But now, I'm just scared of it, because I don't know what it means."

"You mean that something changed for me?"

"Yes."

"You're right. Because I saw something in you last night." Mulder's fingers move to caress my cheek. "I saw how deeply your guilt runs, how much shame you carry around."

"I... it's not that bad," I protest.

"Alex, you have no idea what's really going on inside you. And that's probably a good thing, or you'd have put a bullet in your brain a long time ago."

I can't figure out why he'd care about that, but it's secondary to my denial. I shake my head, and struggle to find the words to make him understand.

"Shh... don't say anything. And don't think about it anymore. You've just forced me to add a third dimension to our bargain that I wasn't prepared for.

"What's that?" I ask with monumental trepidation.

"I have to take us on this journey, but bring you out on the other side intact, and that was not part of my plan."

Mulder must sense my mounting confusion, because his hand fists in my hair, pulling it hard. The other hand clamps over my mouth, making me aware that it was open, and I was about to protest... something.

"No more!" He gives me a little shake. "You do not have my permission to think about this, or try to figure it out."

I try to nod, but he's holding my head too tightly.

He takes a deep breath, then relaxes his hold on my head. "It's time to hurt you again."

Finally, I'm able to nod, accepting all of it. Then I zone out when Mulder rises from the bed. At least, until he starts turning me over. The whole process is excruciating, making feel dizzy as he roughly forces me onto my back without removing the spreader bar.

Once I'm flat on my back, gasping for air, I try to understand the physics of what he just did. No wonder I feel as if all the vertebrae in my spine have been dislocated.

I'm still trying to catch my breath, when Mulder sits next to me, a piece of black cloth in his hand. "The only thing you're allowed to think about now is anticipating when I finally fuck you." I'm suddenly much more aware of his body than I ever have been before. "You see, Alex, when I do fuck you, you're going to be hard the entire time. And it's going to be a long time." A finger traces the line of my jaw. "Before now, if I'd told you that you had to maintain an erection the entire time I was fucking you, you'd have thought it impossible. What's actually going to happen is that you won't be able to help being erect, and you're going to wish with every fiber of your being that you weren't."

I stare into his eyes, the soft color a complete contradiction to his harsh words, and try to understand. His hands are moving toward my face, then he's wrapping the cloth around my eyes.

Instantly, I try to get away. "NO! Mulder, please..." I twist my head back and forth, trying to stop him. "Not that!" He's trying to get a hold of my head, but I'm frantic. "I'll keep my eyes closed... I promise."

Mulder's lying on my chest and I can barely breathe. I think he's yelling, but I can't process it. There's a tight grip on my hair, then his palm connects with my face. "Alex! Stop!" The slaps continue, bringing me back, until I'm still. "Look at me!" Another ringing slap. I pry my eyes open. I can't tell if he looks angry or concerned. "What are you supposed to be thinking about?"

I blink at him until the answer comes. "You fucking me."

"Then think about it."

With complete desperation, I want to disobey, but the memories come... his finger sliding inside me, and that amazing sensation. It's a struggle to breathe, as much from the memory as his weight pressing on my chest.

"Good." His voice is softer. "I am going to blindfold you."

Immediately, I tense.

Mulder slaps me. "Stop it!" He shakes his head in frustration, then there's a lot of pressure on my throat. Faster than I would have believed possible, the blindfold is on. The pressure moves back to my chest and I start to struggle again. Mulder is suddenly gone and I twist my head, trying to dislodge the blindfold.

Fire lands on the inside of my right thigh. I scream. It hits again. "Stop!" I plea. It's that horrible thing from last night. The blows land one after another, randomly between left and right thigh. I know better, but I fight the pain. I'm babbling, begging him to stop. He's yelling at me, but I can't grasp it. The pain mounts until I'm gagging on my tears.

His words finally penetrate my panic. "You know what to do to make it stop!"

I search frantically for what I have to do. I'll do whatever it is... just please stop. I have to... accept it. Accept it. I repeat it over and over. My struggles cease, but the blows continue to land. Accept it. Accept the pain.

The blows suddenly stop, the only sound my own labored breathing. His hands enclose my face. "Alex, what are you thinking about?"

"You fucking me," I rasp.

"What is it that you want?"

"For you to fuck me," I repeat automatically.

"There's something I have to do to you first. Is that what you want?"

"Of course."

"Good." His hands are gone. There's a sharp sting on the top of one thigh. "Describe what that felt like."

I swallow, trying to moisten my throat. "It was small and it really stung. But it was like five or six little stings."

"And what does it feel like now."

It's so hard to differentiate that trivial little thing from the more intense pain on the inside of my thighs. "It's like... a little burn."

Mulder's hand is on my genitals. He manipulates my cock until the flaccid length is resting on what feels like his palm. "Keep your focus on what I told you." Something that feels like several leather shoe laces trails along my penis. "Get ready, Alex."

Oh holy fuck.


** End Abeyance **

1 July 2004

Upcoming in Anamnesis, Alex has to face the final test.

Zoë


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