Getting Acquainted
Story number one in the "Direction" series
E-mail: bluebonnnet42@excite.com
Keywords: Discipline, Slash Mulder/Skinner
WARNING: Folks, this is a DISCIPLINE story. That means
Mulder gets spanked. But believe me...he deserves it.
WARNING II: This story is also SLASH. That means Skinner
can't keep his hands off Mulder. But then again...who could?
Although there isn't any actual sex in this chapter, the
boys do think about it.
Rating: NC-17, baby!
Spoilers: Tooms
Summary: Mulder is about to be kicked out of the Bureau.
Skinner can save him...for a price.
Archive: Jeopardy and Persuaders only, please
"That will be all, Agent Scully, thank you."
They'd given Skinner their final report on the death of
Eugene Tooms, and to their combined amazement, Skinner had
said nothing, merely looked over the papers, nodded, and
dismissed them.
The two agents glanced at each other, then rose as one and
made their way toward the door. Scully made it outside, but
Mulder still had his hand on the doorknob when he felt the
A.D.'s presence behind him.
"Agent Mulder, a word." Skinner motioned Mulder back into
the office, and with a grimace toward his partner, Mulder
followed. He took the seat Skinner indicated, and watched
as the larger man perched on the edge of his own desk.
Skinner crossed his arms, surveying Mulder with a stern,
no-nonsense look, and Mulder suppressed a shiver. There was
just something about this man...
"What is it, Sir?" he asked courteously, but he knew exactly
what this was about. He wasn't about to get chewed out for
pursuing the case when he'd been directly ordered to stay
away from Eugene Tooms. He'd known Skinner would be angry,
but, he'd been right, hadn't he? Tooms *was* a killer, and
although his death was a tragedy, Mulder had managed to
prevent a few innocent people from dying through his
disobedience to Skinner's order. Skinner just needed to
realize that Mulder had a much better feel for all things
X-filish, and give him freer reign.
"Agent Mulder, you've only been under my supervision for a
short time, and already I've been forced to verbally
reprimand you."
Mulder stared at his lap; somehow, having Skinner gently
voice this disappointment in him was worse than being yelled
at. "Yes, Sir. Sorry about that."
"You are a thorn in my side, Agent Mulder. And I don't
tolerate thorns. I simply remove them." The words were
said deliberately, without anger, and Mulder's head shot up.
He regarded Skinner carefully for a few seconds. "Are--are
you saying you're letting me go, Sir?" he questioned. He
knew he'd been walking a fine line between obedience and
insolence for some time now, but he'd managed to convince
himself that nobody cared what he did. Now, suddenly, this
new supervisor seemed to care, and it threw Mulder off
balance. It was too bad he was going to be fired now--he'd
miss his work, and Scully...and although he did not know
Skinner well, he was surprised to find he'd miss him too.
Skinner shook his head slowly. "That's one possibility," he
allowed. "There are others."
Mulder's face flooded with hope. "Sir, I don't want to lose
my job. I'll be happy to accept a suspension, if you
believe it's warranted, but--"
"Suspension is not what I had in mind, Mulder," Skinner
interrupted quietly. "Agent Scully is still relatively new
to the type of work you do, and I believe she needs your
assistance and guidance at this point. Also, you both have
excellent investigative skills, and have proven you work
well together. I don't see that suspending you will benefit
the Bureau in any way."
Skinner stood, towering over Mulder now, and Mulder felt his
face go warm. The man was just so *close* to him--could
Skinner feel how attracted Mulder was to him? God, he hoped
not! Maintaining a physical desire for your boss was a bad
idea, and when that boss was of the same gender, it was an
even worse one. His face flamed when Skinner leaned
forward, putting his hands on the arms of Mulder's chair,
his face merely inches away.
"I have something quite different in mind, but it will
require your complete cooperation, and your absolute
discretion." Skinner spoke quietly, but Mulder could feel
his excitement grow; could Skinner possibly realize how
turned on Mulder became at his masterful, in-command
attitude?
"Dis-discretion, Sir?" Mulder felt unable to breathe, and
his words came out weakly, not at all as he'd intended.
Skinner nodded. "I'm giving you a choice, Agent Mulder. My
superiors want you out. If I'm going to go to bat for you,
you'll have to agree to allow me to deal with your
insubordination as I see fit."
Mulder took a deep breath, shifting position slightly,
hoping his burgeoning erection wasn't visible.
"How do you see fit, Sir?" he asked bravely.
Skinner gave a smile that could almost be construed as
malicious, then stood and moved away from Mulder.
"I'll be happy to explain that to you," he replied smoothly,
"but as it's a personal arrangement, I believe it would be
better discussed on personal time." He scribbled something
on a piece of notepaper, then handed it to Mulder. "That's
my home address and telephone number. Be at my place at
eight tonight and we'll talk. Call if you change your mind,
but be warned, Agent Mulder--if you choose not to accept my
offer, you'll likely be looking for another job soon."
"Are you threatening me, Sir?" Mulder asked, with a bravado
he did not really feel.
A smile flitted briefly across Skinner's face and was gone.
"Not at all, Agent. You're free to accept the consequences
of your actions as they would naturally fall. That will
most likely result in termination of your employment. Or..."
He leaned closer, and Mulder felt the hairs on the back of
his neck stand up at the other man's nearness. "...you may
accept my generous offer to put myself on the line, and
compensate me as I see fit."
"Y-yes, Sir," Mulder stammered, moving away quickly and
edging toward the door. "Eight o'clock. I'll be there.
May I--may I go now, Sir?"
Skinner nodded curtly, and Mulder was out the door in a
flash. He found Scully waiting for him in the corridor, and
quickly stuffed the paper with Skinner's address into his
pocket.
"You okay?" she asked, observing him with concern. "What
did he say to you?"
Mulder shrugged, fighting down the butterflies that were
wreaking havoc with his stomach. "Oh nothing much," he told
her nonchalantly. "Just wanted to rag on me for disobeying
orders. Hey, Scully, you hungry? Let's grab some lunch.
My treat."
His partner had stared at him strangely while he'd done
nothing more but pick at his lunch, but Mulder didn't offer
any explanations, and Scully didn't ask, for which he was
grateful. How could he explain to her that, by all
appearances, he was about to be blackmailed into having sex
with his boss, and he found the idea extremely hot? Scully
was aware of his appreciation for men, but she'd still think
he was crazy.
Now, as he stood outside the door to Skinner's apartment,
trying to will himself to knock, he reminded himself that
all thoughts of sex were merely in his mind. More than
likely Skinner was going to saddle him with some grunt-tasks
at work to get back at him for going against his orders.
Oh well, if it kept him his job...Mulder squared his
shoulders and knocked.
The door opened almost immediately.
"I was wondering if you were going to knock or just walk
away," Skinner observed, standing back to allow Mulder to
enter.
"You knew I was here, Sir?" asked Mulder, startled, and
Skinner grinned.
"I heard you pacing out there a few minutes ago. I've seen
you do it in my office often enough; I knew it had to be
you."
Mulder nodded, nervously taking the seat Skinner offered.
No one spoke for a minute, until Skinner cleared his throat
and leaned slightly forward.
"It's obvious you're quite uneasy about this situation,
Mulder, so I'll get right to the point. You have put me in
a difficult position at work. I'm willing to deal with it,
as I said, if you are willing to agree to my terms."
"Yes, I understand that, but I'm having a really hard time
imagining...just what *are* your terms, Sir?"
"You allow me to punish you for your wrongdoings--off the
record and in private."
Mulder nodded quickly. "Yes, but punish me how? I don't
quite know..." His voice trailed off when Skinner stood and
quickly removed the belt from his jeans. For a second,
Mulder thought his earlier suspicions had proven correct,
and while he was excited at the idea of being used for sex
by his boss, part of him was also disappointed at the lack
of imagination involved. Garden-variety sexual harrassment?
Somehow he'd expected more from Walter Skinner.
When Skinner didn't make any move to remove his clothing,
Mulder glanced up, his wide, confused eyes locking with the
deep brown ones above him. There was an expression in them
Mulder didn't recognize; gentle, yet firm and determined,
unrelenting.
"I'm afraid I still don't understand, Sir," Mulder said,
watching Skinner for any further sign as to his intent.
Skinner sighed, looking a little impatient. He pointed to
an armchair next to the sofa. "Take down your pants and
bend over that chair, Agent Mulder. I'm going to punish
you."
Mulder's jaw nearly hit the floor at the words. "Take--take
down--you mean you want to *spank* me, Sir? With that?" He
pointed at the belt in horror--this was certainly a
development he'd never envisioned.
Skinner waited, arms crossed.
"But you can't, Sir! That's--that's ridiculous!"
"I know it sounds harsh, but believe me, Mulder, it's
effective. And it will be over with quickly, unlike the OPR
hearing you'll otherwise be forced to endure, which will
probably lead to your termination."
"I'll take my chances," Mulder said obstinately, heading for
the door.
His hand was on the knob when Skinner's next words stopped
him.
"You don't have any chances left, Agent Mulder. You've used
them all up." Mulder turned slowly, his face thoughtful,
while Skinner continued. "You've pissed off all the wrong
people, given no thought to your own career, and gone off
half-cocked too many times. Nobody is going to stand up for
you, Mulder. Nobody. Except for me."
"If you think I'm that valuable, why can't you just help me
without this--this--" Mulder waved his arm toward the chair,
at a loss for words.
"For the simple fact that I want your behavior to change,
Agent Mulder," Skinner told him firmly. "I could go to bat
for you, do my best to make sure you keep your job, but what
would it get me?"
"A good agent!"
"A good agent who isn't going to live long," Skinner
returned. "Face it, Mulder, you're careless with your own
life, you're careless in who you anger...I'd be surprised to
see you live another year, quite frankly. You'd either get
yourself killed in the line of duty, or be murdered by your
enemies."
Mulder's face crumpled. "Do you really think I'm that bad?"
he whispered after a few moments.
Skinner shook his head quickly, reassuringly. "No, Mulder,
not bad. Just lacking in direction. I can help you find
that direction. I'd like to. But it has to be a voluntary
decision on your part. I would never do anything like this
to you against your will."
Mulder rubbed his hand across his eyes, as if suddenly
weary. "So those are my choices, huh? Lose my job, or give
you permission to beat me."
"Punish you," Skinner corrected.
"Beat me, punish me...what's the difference?"
"There's plenty of difference, Mulder. For one thing, I
won't cause any damage--you'll hurt, and you'll wish you
were somewhere else, but I'll never make you bleed, or break
the skin. I know how much is too much, Agent Mulder. I
won't give you more than you can take.
Mulder's eyes flicked from the belt, to the chair, to
Skinner's face, at last he closed his eyes in defeat.
"Sir, are you absolutely sure..."
Skinner said nothing, but his silence was compelling, and
Mulder at last heaved a sigh.
"Fine," he said grumpily, marching over to the chair and
flinging himself over the back of it. "Go ahead. I can't
believe I just said that," he muttered into the cushion.
"Mulder, you're forgetting something."
Mulder raised an eyebrow, looking up at Skinner from his
place over the chair, then remembered Skinner's earlier
words.
"You don't really want me to pull down my pants?" he asked,
aghast at the idea.
"Actually, I find it's more effective if you simply remove
them. Saves you tripping over them when I'm done."
Mulder just stared.
"Hey, I'm just trying to save you from any indignity,"
Skinner shrugged, and Mulder fought back the urge to laugh
hysterically.
Keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the floor, Mulder slipped
off his sneakers, then reluctantly unfastened his jeans and
lowered them to the floor. He tossed them over the back of
the sofa, then, as if to postpone the inevitable, peeled off
his socks and added them to the pile.
Skinner waited.
At last, knowing there was no escape, Mulder hooked his
thumbs in the waistband of his boxers.
"Sir, do we have to do this?" he asked desperately. "Can't
we just--"
"We don't have to do anything, Mulder. It's your choice."
Mulder sighed again, unable to keep from rolling his eyes in
exasperation. "Fine," he said again, yanking down his
boxers and throwing them aside.
He turned and buried his face in the chair cushion once
more, hoping Skinner couldn't see how embarrassed he was.
He heard Skinner move into position behind him, and tensed
his buttocks reflexively. A moment later, he felt Skinner's
hand on the small of his back.
"Just relax, Fox," the older man said gently. "It will
hurt, make no mistake, but when it's over, I promise you,
you'll feel better."
"Yeah, I'll feel better when you stop," Mulder mumbled.
Without further comment, as if tired of Mulder's back-talk,
Skinner raised the belt and swung it in a downward arc,
laying it directly across the center of Mulder's shapely
behind. The man over the chair gave a loud yelp.
"Hey!"
"Agent Mulder," Skinner began, applying two more vivid
stripes to the prevously unmarked flesh, "I have one strict
rule."
"Ouch! Yes, Sir!" Mulder gasped, amazed at just how much
this *hurt*.
"What is that rule, Agent Mulder?"
The belt fell across his thighs, and Mulder howled.
"Damn it, that HURTS!"
"It's meant to. What is the rule, Fox? Do you know?"
"I guess--to--never to disobey you, Sir!" Mulder replied
quickly, biting his lip to keep from crying out again.
"Very good, Mulder. You're a fast learner."
"Yes, Sir. Ah! Please stop, Sir, I've learned! I promise,
I've learned my lesson!"
"I doubt that," Skinner replied calmly, continuing to stripe
the reddening ass in front of him. "I know you'd like me to
believe it, however."
Mulder had tried to hold still throughout his punishment,
but now, even with Skinner's steadying hand on his back, he
was beginning to dance and writhe, doing anything to get
away from that wicked belt. His ass felt as if it had
caught fire, and he had completely forgotten his
embarrassment in the haze of pain that engulfed him.
"Sir, please, I swear, I'll--" His breath hitched as he bit
back a sob, horrified at the fact that he was on the verge
of tears. "I'll never disobey you again!"
Skinner applied several more stripes to the helpless agent's
ass, evening out the color until he was satisfied that
Mulder had at least begun to learn something of the lesson
he was trying to impart. Finally, tossing the belt aside,
he rubbed Mulder's back soothingly. Unable to resist, he
rubbed gently at the shapely, burning buttocks, and Mulder
lay over the chair, crying quietly into it, for several
minutes.
At last, Skinner took Mulder by the shoulders and helped him
stand.
"There, now, it's all over," he said gently. Mulder kept
his eyes averted until Skinner took him by the chin and
forced his gaze up. "There's no shame in what just happened
here, Fox," he said firmly. "You did wrong, you were
punished, and now it's over."
"How can you ever look at me the same?" Mulder whispered.
"How can I sit in a meeting with you--with Scully--knowing
what you must think..."
"All I will think, Mulder, is that you are a fine agent, one
who, although he tends to go a little too far in his pursuit
of the truth, pays for his mistakes honestly."
Mulder looked dubious, but Skinner handed him his boxers and
helped him keep his balance as he dressed. Then, guiding
Mulder to the sofa, he helped him sit gingerly on the soft
cushions. Skinner disappeared into the kitchen, returning
with a glass of water, which Mulder downed eagerly. He
wiped his mouth and handed the glass back to Skinner.
"Sir, I--um..."
"What is it, Mulder?"
"Scully," Mulder said flatly. "If she found out about
this..."
"I see no reason why anyone should find out, unless you
choose to tell them," Skinner observed. "I intend to hold
this arrangement in the strictest of confidence."
Mulder raised an eyebrow. "Arrangement, Sir?"
Skinner grinned, a true grin, and Mulder marveled at how
different the man looked when he smiled.
"I doubt this will be your last offense, Mulder. You're far
too headstrong to change your behavior all at once."
Mulder shivered, suddenly remembering the feel of Skinner's
hands on his ass, and the two men locked gazes for a long
moment.
"I should be going," Mulder said at last, rising to his feet
with a wince. "Damn, that still hurts."
"It will hurt for several days, if I did my job correctly,"
Skinner assured him. "I want you to be reminded of it every
time you try to sit down."
"I'm not likely to forget!" Mulder retorted, making for the
door again. "No one's ever done anything like that to me in
my life, Sir."
Skinner smiled again. "You haven't seen anything yet, Fox,"
he said before closing the door behind Mulder.
Leaving Mulder to stand there in the corridor, willing away
his sudden arousal, and wondering just what Skinner had
meant.
END