TITLE: Troika V: Shifting Boundaries
AUTHOR: SubRosa
RATING: Hard NC-17 for graphic consensual sex and language.
CATEGORY: SR
KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully/Krycek
SPOILERS: Set post-Never Again
DISCLAIMER: Alex Krycek, Fox Mulder and Dana Scully belong to
Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and 20th Century Fox
Broadcasting, and to the actors who portray them. They are
being used without permission, and no profit is being made.
THANKS: To adara for her insightful beta help and to Domenica and
sybils for checking out an earlier draft.
DISTRIBUTION: Okay to archive, but please let me know.
FEEDBACK: Fawned over at subrosa31@yahoo.com.
SUMMARY: Mulder, Scully, and Krycek continue to explore their
new relationship.
FURTHER AUTHOR'S NOTES AND WARNING:
First, the warning: the "Troika" series is intended as an outlet
for ideas too smutty or wild (e.g., a Mulder/Scully/Krycek
triangle) to put in other stories, so you're not going to find
much by way of plot, characterization, or BDSM accuracy here.
What you will find is smut: specifically, loving, consensual, but
somewhat kinky sex between three adults. Please bail now if you
are under 17 or if this subject or pairing isn't your cup of tea.
Second, the "Troika V" that I originally envisioned has gotten
totally out of hand. What was supposed to be a little smut
biscuit is threatening to turn into a 70K...well, "character
study" would be the wrong word, but the characters think about
something besides having sex (though they don't really do
anything besides having sex). Rather than doing one long story,
I'm turning it into two shorter ones. "Troika VI" (to be
released shortly) is essentially a companion piece to this one.
For those of you following the "Gift of Silk" series, I will turn
my full fic-writing efforts to GoS V once T6 is finished, I
promise.
Third, in the "Troika" universe, "Never Again" aired as initially
intended--before "Leonard Betts"--and so neither Mulder nor
Scully is aware of the cancer during the flashback scenes.
Finally, the story does assume familiarity with the previous
Troika stories. All of them can be found on the "Threesomes"
page of my website: http://www.geocities.com/subrosa31
********************
Not many people make important changes in a relationship by
introducing a new sextoy, but I've found the practice has served
me and Dana well in the past. And something is definitely
changing in our relationship with Alex.
It started with his low "It's me" when I answered my cell last
Saturday. Muting the Yankees' disgraceful performance on the TV,
I asked, "Do we need a meeting?"
Scully looked up and, realizing who was on the line, closed her
book. It had been some time since our last contact with him, and
I'll admit that we were both a bit concerned.
"I'd, uh, like to come over, but not for business."
It took me a minute to realize what he meant: the hesitation in
his voice threw me, and I couldn't remember ever hearing him
openly express a desire before. Then I caught on. Leaning over,
I ran a finger down Scully's throat in a tantalizing, purposeful
stroke.
"You'd like to come over for pleasure," I concluded.
Dana started at my words and touch. Keeping my eyes on her, I
repeated the caress. The last time he'd joined us in bed, weeks
ago, he'd spent the night at my invitation. I'd assumed she
wanted him there was well, but the following morning had been
more uncomfortable for her than I'd expected. Scully works side-
by-side with Krycek in our mutual struggle and my Pet revels in
her sexual subordination to Alex, but we haven't negotiated a
space between--largely because she has always wanted to keep her
two worlds separate. Faced with Krycek in her bed when she
wasn't collared and in her 'subspace,' she was
uncharacteristically self-conscious until he dressed and left.
The next time we met for 'business' she blushed scarlet, in the
curse of the redhead, when he arrived. He politely ignored it,
though, and after a few minutes she was fine. She'd shown no
discomfort at subsequent meetings, but if the idea of resuming
playtime with him upset her, I needed to know so I could put him
off or take steps to deal with her reluctance. Probably the
latter--if he wanted a release badly enough to ask for it, I
wanted to give it to him. For well over a month he'd been trying
to run a vanished source to ground, and the subtle signs of
strain were telling on him, if you knew where to look.
"You once told me I could ask..."
Ah. I felt the lines of my face settling into the sterner
expression that she knows so well, and her eyes widened in
response. "You want some time with Dana," I finished for him.
Her cheeks reddened but she arched her neck, accepting my caress
and what it meant. Her pulse beat faster under my fingertips.
"If it's all right with her."
I lowered my voice, adopting my 'Master' persona. "You know Dana
doesn't have any say in it, Alex."
"If it's all right with you," he conceded.
I let my hand drift down the slope of her breast, finding the
nipple already tight. Her eyelids fell half-closed as she
breathed deep and steadily, making the internal transition.
"All right. Give me half an hour to get her ready."
She didn't move when I hung up and went to get her collar. With
a last caress, I put the heavy leather circlet around her slender
neck. The tip of her tongue peeked out to stroke her lower lip
as the metal clasp clicked shut.
"I think you're in for quite a ride tonight, Pet," I murmured.
She jumped as I reached down to run my fingers over the seam in
the crotch of her pajamas. My fingers were damp when I lifted
them away and took her by the hand, pulling her to her feet.
"Let's get you ready for him."
Silently, she followed me into the bedroom.
Exactly thirty minutes later, I heard the sounds of him entering
the apartment. He opened the door to the bedroom without
knocking--something he'd never done before--and stopped short
when he saw the results of our preparations.
She was standing facing the door, her wrists cuffed above her
head just high enough to put a little arch in her back. His gaze
raked appreciatively over the black stiletto heels and stockings
that elongated her legs, and lingered on the black corset that
molded the neat lines of her figure into a lush hourglass.
Skillfully applied eyeshadow made her eyes look huge in the dim
light, and she was biting her rouged lip in a touch of modesty
that added the perfect spice of innocence to the blatant
sexuality of her clothing. She looked like sin and paradise,
desire incarnate.
He stalked up to her and caught her face in his gloved hand,
blocking my view. I'd been hard since she pressed her body
against mine as I lifted her wrists to the cuffs, and I couldn't
resist rubbing myself through my jeans as I imagined her lips
parting at the scent and feel of the leather. But through my
arousal I could see tension radiating from his body, from his
solid stance to his rigid shoulders to the set of his chin.
His first words were directed to me. "You'll stop me if I go
overboard?"
Curiouser and curiouser, I thought. Aloud, I replied, "That goes
without saying."
His lips quirked in a half-smile. "Of course it does." The
smile faded and his face hardened as he looked down at her.
"Don't you look pretty," he said.
His voice was cold, almost contemptuous, and something dangerous
lurked in his expression. Dropping his hand to her waist, he
turned her to face me, not, I think, because he knows I like to
watch, but rather to ensure that I could keep the promise I'd
just made him. Then he pulled a length of black silk from his
pocket and wrapped it around her head, securely covering her
eyes.
"I don't want you looking at him," he told her. "Tonight you're
mine."
"Yes, Alex," she whispered before he stopped her words with a
harsh kiss.
I unzipped my pants and cupped my balls, not minding that he
didn't intend to share her. He needed something that only she
could give, and while I love being her Master, it takes a lot of
concentration. Sometimes it's good to just watch the show,
responsible for no one's pleasure but my own.
It wasn't long before the corset was tossed aside and she was
writhing under his sure handling. He was soon naked too, but he
didn't want her to service him, didn't want her touch at all. He
wanted her total surrender.
His eyes gleaming with a dark hunger, he worked her body with his
fingers, lips and tongue. Though he never struck her, he handled
her more roughly than ever before. He demanded that she describe
each sensation, and smirked with satisfaction when his deft touch
reduced her to incoherence as she tried to follow his command.
He made her come over and over: bouncing up and down on her high
heels as she rode his gloved fingers, rubbing against the hard
thigh he thrust between her legs, and jerking uncontrollably as
he knelt and licked her to completion.
When she gasped that she was too tired to come again, he chuckled
almost cruelly and pulled the heavy massager from the nightstand
drawer.
"We'll see about that," he told her.
Still blindfolded, she realized what he meant only when the cool
head touched her heated flesh. She yelped as he turned it on and
twisted as the powerful vibrations drove her to new arousal. He
teased her with the toy for a long time, pressing it to her clit
and then pulling it away, making her follow it with her hips
until she was dancing in place.
By then I was slouched down in my chair, cock in hand, grunting
softly with pleasure. Alex has always had an instinctive gift
for pushing her buttons, and the show she was unwittingly putting
on at his command was a live-action wet dream.
No matter how anguished her moans sounded, I knew from experience
that she loved it. Stroking myself faster, I admired the pretty
desperation on her face and thought of the first time I saw that
look. I closed my eyes and lost myself in the memories.
The changes that occurred during her 'training week' were like a
religious conversion: you remember it as a single, life-
transforming event, but it's actually a sequence of smaller steps
that lead up to the final, climactic moment. One little
milestone, of course, was our first joining. Scully came twice,
with no more foreplay than a hard spanking. That's when I knew
what I'd only suspected before: the cool face she presented to
the world hid a fierce passion that matched her icy reserve
measure for measure. So I was stunned when she confessed to me,
head ducked in embarrassment, that her sex drive had always been
too low to satisfy her partners. Was it possible that she
believed it?
I nodded calmly and dismissed her concern. "You're not to worry
about that anymore," I informed her flatly. "From now on, you'll
be as responsive as I want you to be."
At any other time, she would have met such an arrogant assertion
with a quick rebuttal. But on that day, a glimmer of hope
flashed in her eyes.
I rose to dress and Dana followed, objecting when I informed her
she would remain unclothed for the rest of the week. That led to
an enjoyable--for me--hour in which she learned that permitted
uses of her pretty lips did not include protesting her nudity.
No such arguments came, however, when I told her I intended to
punish her for the reckless behavior that had so endangered her
life.
And so we came to our second small milestone. She let me guide
her to her knees and remained there when I went to get the
paddle. I knelt behind her, not making her meet my eyes that
first time.
"You need to be punished, don't you, Dana?" I asked.
She nodded infinitesimally, but it was enough. I pushed her all
the way forward onto her hands and knees and set to work.
Later I lifted her onto my lap and held her trembling body,
murmuring reassurances and stroking her. My hand brushed her
chest as I shifted position, and she flinched. I covered her
breast with my palm to find her nipple erect and straining for
attention. That raised a possibility which I had suspected, but
lacked evidence for before that day. A gentle probe between her
legs, however, removed all doubt.
"How old were you when you found out that pain excites you?" I
asked. I had a plan for this contingency, but the lack of data
meant it was sketchier than I would have liked.
She shook her head against my shoulder. "It doesn't," her
muffled voice said.
I turned her face toward my own, prepared to deliver a stern
warning about honesty, when her expression stopped me. The
denial there lacked full conviction, but it was real.
"I liked watching you move while I paddled you," I told her
instead. I moved my thumb deliberately over her clit, and her
trembling increased. "The way you shimmied when the leather
cracked against your skin, the way you'd take the blow and arch
your back for more--you moved like it was turning you on, Dana."
She shook her head again, her voice growing agitated. "No. It's
just all--it's all so much..."
"Shh..." I soothed, thumbing the little bundle of nerves faster.
"It's all right. You're doing very well."
After a few more strokes she shuddered, panting lightly, and the
tension left her body. It was an orgasm, but I doubted she'd
gotten much pleasure from it.
That, however, was an issue for later; something more important
needed to be done that night. I carried her over to the big bed
in the corner of our cabin, laid her down, and kissed her
forehead. "I'm going to make some dinner. I'm right here if you
need me."
When her eyes drifted shut I crept away from the bed and moved
about the kitchen quietly, hoping she could get some rest. She
would need it.
After dinner came our final milestone of the day. Leading her
back to stand by the bed, I informed her that she was going to
beg me to fuck her. The nap had done her good; she said nothing,
but raised a skeptical eyebrow in the first real spark of herself
I'd seen since her return from Philadelphia.
I brought out the vibrator: a tiny thing that nestled over her
clitoris, held in place by narrow straps around her thighs. The
control box in my hand would send the powerful little motor
inside the soft sheath humming at a range of intensities. Her
eyes lit up when she realized what it was, and the muscles in her
abdomen trembled in anticipation as I strapped it on. She wanted
it badly, wanted to lose herself in the wash of pure sensation,
even if she couldn't admit it to me or herself.
"Have you ever used one of these before?" I asked casually.
Her gaze lowered, she murmured, "No."
I lifted her chin. "Don't think you can hide from me," I told
her gently but firmly. "You're going to show me everything."
I ran my fingers over her lips and met her beautifully expressive
eyes. "And then you're going to give me everything."
Again that spark of hope lit her face, but she pulled away and
looked defiant. I smiled, accepting the challenge, and sat down
on the edge of the bed. Inwardly I was pleased to see the
flashes of my Scully returning. In the end, I needed *her*
consent to what I was offering, not that of the pale shell she'd
been since I first saw her bruised face against those white
hospital sheets.
Her nipples were tight even before I touched the dial. I let the
anticipation build, until she shifted nervously from one foot to
the other, then flicked on the vibrator. She jumped as it sprang
to life, humming quietly on her engorged clit.
I schooled my features to careful neutrality. "The first thing
you're going to learn this week, Dana, is how much passion is
trapped inside you. You're only unaware of it because you've
never let it out."
She had an inkling of that already, from our first encounter,
when she got a taste of the true power of her sexuality. I was
awed by it, but she was frightened--frightened of what it could
make her feel, frightened of what it could make her do.
That wasn't the only thing she was afraid of.
She shivered as I increased the vibrations. "Mulder, this is--"
She broke off as I cut the power, looking at me in silent
reproach.
"Didn't I tell you, Dana? You will address me as 'Master' this
week."
I hadn't told her, actually, and that statement demanded a
response even in her current state. She opened her lips, but the
intended rejoinder transformed to a moan as I switched the power
back on, a touch higher than before.
"It's okay," I told her. "We'll work on that later."
When her face began to slacken in pleasure, I turned the vibe
off. After a moment's pause, it went back on another notch
stronger. A steady beat began in my cock as her eyelids grew
heavier. She grimaced in frustration when I shut the toy off
once more, and watched as I unbuttoned my jeans with my other
hand.
"I'm sure you know why I'm doing this," I remarked as the motor
began humming at a higher pitch.
She fought to keep her voice steady. "Because you think it will
make me beg."
"I do," I acknowledged. "And it will. But there's another
reason." I ran my fingers over my cock, enjoying the stimulation
just as I snatched hers away. Her body tightened.
"Feel that? Feel the anticipation? Your body *knows* those
vibrations are going to come back even stronger."
She jumped as I followed the words with action. "That thrill in
your clit is going to build and build with every pause, until you
can't stand it anymore. Soon you're going to beg, and then
you're going to come."
She swayed as if she could barely keep her balance. When I cut
the power again she bit her lip, trying to maintain her silence.
I lowered my voice. "But you won't want to stop then. Your body
will expect more. It's going to want to peak over and over
again. And you will."
She cried out as the vibrations assaulted her again. Her hands
fluttered up to touch her breasts, then dropped. Well, we could
work on that later too.
"I want you to feel that, Dana. Feel me training your body to do
what *I* want."
I was silent for the next few cycles, letting the toy and her own
imagination erode her resistance. She began moaning continually,
her hips rocking of their own volition, and my aching dick made
it difficult to concentrate. After years of celibacy, it was
hard to hold off when there was a naked, eager woman in front of
me. But there was a plan behind the slow torture, and I had to
stick to it.
The vibe was two notches short of full power when Dana fell to
her knees. "Oh, God," she keened, "it's...I'm...oh, oh..."
Off again. It wouldn't do for her to come on her own. "Are you
ready to get fucked now?" I asked pleasantly.
She nodded, her breath catching. I reached out and lifted her
chin, hardening my voice and adopting my most superior
expression.
"Then beg for it, you little slut."
She recoiled as if from a blow, one hand flying up to cover her
face. Catching her by the wrist, I forced her hand away from her
face, my gaze burning into hers. She gave me a desperate look,
her lips moving silently in a final moment of hesitation, until a
new burst of pleasure at her clit overwhelmed her. She began
pleading, language that would do a porn star proud flowing from
her lips, begging me to fill her hungry cunt and make her come.
Releasing her, I shucked off my jeans one-handed and threw them
aside. When I stood naked before her, she moved as if to rise,
looking toward the bed. I cut the stimulation, and she stilled
with a frustrated cry.
"Uh-uh, Dana. The floor's good enough for you. I'm going to fuck
you right here, and you are going to *love* it."
She shrank from the words, so I jolted her again at the highest
power. Squirming uncontrollably, she lay back on floor and
spread her legs wide.
Off again. "Oh, God, no," she whimpered. "Please--I need it,
please..."
I knelt on the floor between her legs, lifted her and pulled her
to me--I wasn't about to crush her to the hard wood--and flipped
the vibrator back on. Her hips bucked wildly as the toy did its
work. Dropping the control, I dragged her close and plunged into
her as it made her come.
The agony it cost me to wait was worth it when her body, primed
for repeated stimulation, gave in to the relentless buzz at her
clit. "Oh, God!" she wailed again. Arms flung wide, back
arched, she wriggled forward, trying to force herself further
onto my cock.
I let go. It was a rough, hard fucking, but she took it all and
wanted more. One little heel banged on the floor behind me as
she writhed, delirious with pleasure. My body screamed to get in
deeper. Lifting her as I rose to my knees, I leaned forward and
lowered her ass to the floor. Bracing all my weight on my hands,
so that we touched only where we were joined, I sank in to the
hilt.
Her moans grew guttural, then animalistic as my pubic bone ground
the vibrator against her clit, and the pulse it sent to the base
of my cock snapped the last thread of my control. I drove into
her again and again, swept up in the sensation, barely hearing
her screaming climax as I exploded into her.
I was only out for a second, but when I came to I was crushing
Dana beneath me in spite of my best intentions. Pulling away, I
groped for the control and shut the vibrator off.
When I looked back to her, tears were streaming down her face.
I scooped her up and put her on the bed, then lay down next to
her. She tensed when my arm went around her, but let herself be
pulled into my embrace. For long minutes, the only sound was her
crying quietly against my shoulder. I steeled myself against the
sobs, all the more heart-rending for their softness. I expected
this, but that didn't make it any easier. Stroking her hair, I
finally spoke.
"That was your worst fear, wasn't it? Having a man see you like
that. Seeing you beg him to use you like a whore, and seeing you
get off on it."
I felt her nod. I flicked the vibrator onto the lowest setting,
teasing her clit gently.
"I can make you do it again, you know."
She sniffed. "I know."
I gave her another jolt of pleasure as a reward. Her upper body
stiffened even as her hips pulsed in response. Wondering how she
could possibly doubt her wonderful sexual capacity, I shut the
vibe off.
"Do you know that I love you more than the world?"
She froze. I could almost hear her tired mind racing before she
settled on the safest question. "Then why are you doing these
things to me?"
"Because you want it," I explained in my calmest, most reasonable
tone of voice. "You're afraid of what you want most. You want
wild, depraved things to be done to you, because you won't let
yourself do them.
"Just like you won't let yourself be loved."
She was motionless and silent, but her whole body had tensed.
"I've neglected you before, but now I know what you need. You're
going to give in to that wildness you've been denying so long,
but it won't ever endanger you again." I kissed the top of her
head. "Because I'm going to take control of it."
Her body relaxed fractionally, but she asked, "What if I don't
want this?"
My heart constricted. I was sure, so sure that I had figured out
what she needed. And now I wanted it too. I had held the living
fire of her passion in my hand, had shaped and commanded it.
Suddenly, I didn't think I could bear never feeling that again.
"If you can *convince* me that you don't want it, then we will
leave first thing in the morning."
Her voice quavered. "And if I can't convince you?"
I switched on the vibrator again. "If you can't convince me,
then I will do what I told you from the start. I'll give you
what you need. I'll make you feel all that passion you've locked
away so long.
"And let's be clear about this, Scully. I'm going to free that
wild, rebellious, passionate side of you, and I will enslave you
with pleasure. By the time we leave here, you'll be trained to
follow my commands without thought, and you'll love doing it.
For months afterward, you're going to get wet whenever you think
about this week, and you'll come in your sleep when you relive it
in your dreams."
She let out a hissing breath and her hips began rocking. I
rolled her over onto her back and touched her face, looking at
the bruised shadows under her eyes and the need and wariness in
her expression.
"There," I said approvingly, "feel it building? You don't have
to hold it back anymore. Let it go."
She spoke in a tiny voice. "I'll be completely out of control?"
"Completely," I promised. "And I will make you feel things
you've only dreamed about."
"I'm scared."
The admission tore at my heart, but I couldn't back down--we had
to get through this. I leaned down to kiss her temple. "I know,
but you don't have to be. I will never harm you. I'd die
first."
"It's hard to accept wanting complete subjugation."
"I know," I repeated, feeling my breath stir the baby-fine hair
beneath my lips. "You can fight if you need to--it won't stop
me."
My finger moved on the remote, sending more addictive shocks of
pleasure to her clit, and we began again.
It's hard at first to continue after a woman says 'no,' but she
never used the word that would make me stop. And though I was
too spent to fuck her again, it was erotic to see the pleasure
overcome her resistance. To feel irresistible.
Besides, it wasn't me she was fighting, not really. And when she
came, thrashing against the grounding weight of my body, the
bliss and contentment in her face was so pure that all my doubts
vanished.
I pushed back the memories to see that Alex had entered Dana, but
he wasn't moving. His good hand gripping her hip, the other
holding the massager in place, he stood with almost inhuman
control as she sobbed and writhed, trapped in place by the
merciless toy in front of her, the unyielding body behind her,
and the hard cock driven deep inside her.
Heat began coiling in my balls. She was teetering on the edge,
and there's nothing more exciting than seeing her give it all up.
And then she began to beg brokenly. Of its own accord my hand
moved faster on my dick. Her pleas had the same effect on Alex--
with a groan, he began moving his hips in deep, hard thrusts.
The tension was finally fading from his shoulders as he pumped
into her conquered body.
"You want to come now?" he growled.
"Please," she sobbed, "please."
That did it. I came, holding back a shout as the orgasm rocketed
through me.
Alex pulled the massager away from her. "Not until I'm done."
She threw her head back, trapped in an agonizing limbo as her
body rocked under his thrusts. A moment later he bowed his head
and let out a long groan. His shoulders slumped before he jerked
himself upright again.
"Now," he said. Still inside her, he brought the massager back
to her clit and switched it to high.
Dana shrieked and arched into the sensation, thrusting forward
over and over. Her head tossed back and forth as if she were
fighting off the swelling orgasm, but the vibrator defeated her
as it always does, as she loves it to do. She came with a
desperate wail, rubbing herself against the smooth plastic head.
Her harsh gasps punctuated the air in the aftermath. He lowered
his head once more, resting his cheek on the crown of her head,
and caught his own breath in absolute silence.
A barely discernible shiver ran through his body when he withdrew
from her. He pulled off his gloves and tossed them onto the
dresser, then released her from the cuffs. His arms went around
her instantly as her body sagged and lifting her up, he carried
her to the bed. He laid her down gently and rubbed her arms,
relieving the ache of being bound for so long, then unbuckled her
shoes and carefully rolled down her stockings, setting them
aside.
"I'm going to take the blindfold off now," he warned when he
finished. He removed it, unnecessarily shielding her eyes from
the dim light, and looked down at her with an expression much
softer than when he arrived.
"Stay there," he instructed before leaving the room. The command
was unnecessary; I doubt she had the strength left to make a
fist.
I hadn't realized he'd been aware of me, but he tossed me a wet
cloth on his return from the bathroom. I cleaned myself up while
he settled on the bed next to her and washed the smeared makeup
from her face. Then, moving with infinite tenderness, he worked
the cloth over her body, all the way down to her small, shapely
feet.
Putting the cloth on the nightstand, he leaned over her and
cupped her face. "You all right?"
She nodded.
"Thank you," I heard him murmur. His thumb traced her cheekbone
before he turned to me and repeated the words.
I wondered what had driven him to us that night, but knew the
inquiry would not have been appreciated.
"You're welcome," I told him instead. "It's okay to ask for this
when you need it."
I meant it, and would have given him whatever other comfort the
shelter of Dana's bed could offer. But he left that night rather
than staying with us.
The next morning, I found her before the full-length mirror in
her bedroom, inspecting the faint bruises his fingers had left on
her hip.
"Are you okay?" I asked, frowning. The occasional signs of rough
play were to be expected, and she'd never paid them any heed
before.
"I'm fine," she responded, a touch of hoarseness in her voice.
But the way she wrapped her thin robe back around her body told
me something was wrong.
Laying my hand over the now-hidden marks, I breathed in her
scent, remembering how his hand had gripped her and how she'd
responded. After a minute, she relaxed.
"Now, what's bothering you?"
She met my eyes in mirror. "When he made me come the last time--
it was incredible."
I pulled her back, letting her feel the erection I get whenever I
think of them together. "I could tell. You were wild. I've
never seen you like that with him."
"Only with you," she replied. A hint of shame crept into her
eyes.
"Ah," I said. When we discuss the Master/slave aspect of our
relationship outside those personas, Scully tends to treat it as
a sign of our special bond, not something inherent in her. It
can be hard, even now, for her to admit that she has a submissive
streak that goes straight to the bone.
But the days of her hiding from that fact are over. "There's
what we have, and there's what you are," I told her. "You would
still need to be dominated, even if we'd never discovered it. I
know that, you know that--"
"And now Krycek knows it," she finished.
I stroked her hip, trying to puzzle out why her reluctance had
emerged at this stage of the game. My best guess was that the
nature of our encounters had changed. There was a surreal
element to the nights when he first joined us; it seemed almost
like an enactment of a fantasy. Lately, though, things had
gotten a little less scripted and a little rougher. The previous
night also had been the first time he'd topped her without prior
agreement or my direction; maybe it was the first time she truly
confronted the fact that Dana Scully might surrender not just to
me, but to another man.
I lifted the heavy weight of her hair from her neck and buried my
nose in the copper silk. "You know I will always be there, but
it's all right. He wouldn't hurt you."
"I know," she replied. Hands working restlessly, she tightened
the belt of her robe. "I trust him."
And then I understood.
'Love' is a word that we still use too rarely, even between
ourselves; for years, we used 'trust' to convey what we couldn't
say outright. Scully didn't mean simply that she felt safe with
him: she meant that her feelings for him were becoming deeper and
more intimate. That's why she'd been able to let go so
completely with him.
And that's why she was afraid now. We didn't bring him into the
bedroom as a casual partner, but with Krycek, one could expect
the safety of a certain emotional distance. If that distance no
longer held, someone else might see her in all her aspects, from
Scully's near-complete independence to Pet's near-total
enslavement, and understand, as only I had before, that they
truly were the same person. That indeed would make her pull
back.
And in the end, I couldn't blame her for her hesitation. When we
agreed to invite Alex into our bed, she knew that I wanted him
too. Since then she had seen his interest in experiencing what
she feels under my command, and she hadn't objected to the idea,
either as my Pet or as Scully. I could take him if I wanted, but
I haven't. Because I couldn't quite take that step with someone
else either.
I searched her eyes in the mirror, considering the best course of
action. She might have been getting cold feet, but she still
wanted him: the previous night was proof of that. And the truth
was, her cold feet didn't matter. Scully does not have the right
to countermand a decision I make as Master, and that rule exists
for her sake, not mine. While I would never force her into
something she truly doesn't want, indulging this sudden wariness
was not an option.
Echoing my thoughts, she lifted my hand to her neck in a silent
request. I circled her throat, rubbing where the neck meets the
shoulder. Her skin looked pale and fragile in contrast to my
darker hand. We both watched my thumb stroke the hollow of her
throat in the caress she knows so well. As I began to trace the
delicate bones her eyes grew heavier and more luminous; she was
taking on that vulnerability and openness that she both loves and
fears. It was okay to push her now--by adopting her 'Pet'
persona, she was asking to be pushed.
Still stroking her neck with one hand, I brought the other up to
rest over her heart. "It's all right. There's room in here for
him too."
When she nodded, I reached down and untied the belt of her robe.
With sensual slowness, I slid the garment off her body and let it
fall at our feet. The mirror reflected her nudity back to her.
"Now look at yourself."
She focused her hazy gaze, seeing what I saw: her breath
quickening, her skin flushing, her thighs parting slightly--all
the secret signs that her body had already yielded to me.
I cupped both her breasts, kneading softly as my thumbs danced
over her nipples. "You still belong to me. Body, mind, and
soul--everything you are. *Nothing* will ever change that."
Her breath caught. "Yes," she murmured.
I put my lips to her ear and whispered the final words as a
caress. "On your knees."
With a shudder, she sank gracefully down. I had only to stretch
out my arm to retrieve the collar, which had been set aside after
he left. I fastened it on, claiming her as no one else ever has
or ever will.
"Tell me what your collar means, Pet."
Her eyes fell closed as she repeated the familiar phrase. "You
own me, Master. You can do anything to me that you see fit."
When her gaze met mine in the mirror again, only a shadow of her
earlier doubt remained. That was okay; she would come to terms
with it in time.
I knelt behind her, running my hands over her body. "That's
right, Pet," I murmured as my fingers found her nipple and clit.
In spite of her exhaustion the previous night, she was ready. "I
own you. No matter what I tell you to say or do, no matter who I
offer this pretty body to, you must obey."
She moaned softly, swaying against me.
"You were born to be a slave, Pet. To be my slave."
She writhed sinuously into my touch, her head falling back
against my shoulder. I made love to her right there, letting the
mirror show her her need and surrender, her strength and her
beauty.
. . . And that's when I got the idea that spurred this latest
purchase. One ear cocked toward the door in case Scully comes
back early, I slip the cashier's check and order form into the
envelope addressed to a very discreet and reputable purveyor of
"adult sensual enhancements." The toy should arrive in George
Hale's PO Box within a week. I'm not sure when Dana and I will
see Alex again, but when we do, they'll both have a surprise
waiting for them.
Grinning to myself, I head off to the mailbox.
********************
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