Amusery

by Dora Py and Anna Gramme

Fandom: X-Files

Pairing: Skinner/Krycek/Mulder

Rating: NC-17; Humour, discipline, sex, angst, a very little violence and a little non-con sexual assault.

Status: new, complete.

Series/Sequel: Maybe, on high days and holidays

Archive: We'll leave that to Eleri to decide - we've no objections

Feedback: yes, please. Lorelei633@aol.com

Disclaimers: The X-Files are not mine. Those responsible for the creation of the characters are all here acknowledged and I pay due homage to them. I just play with their creations.

Thank-you to Cadillac Red who has kindly allowed us to use the Danville "punishment tour" idea as well as a quote from one of the stories. I think Skinner shows good taste in his Internet reading :-).

Summary: Someone walks back into Alex Krycek's life - and trouble follows her.

Part 1

Three good-looking men together will always attract attention.

Three stunningly good-looking men dressed to the nines will attract even more attention.

Three incredibly handsome men dressed to the nines and obviously besotted with one another will leave a train of disappointed sexual predators in their wake.

Especially when one of them looks dangerous enough to take on a whole jungle of predators and win.

No-one in the restaurant knew that these three had, with some help, taken on foes far more dangerous than jungle predators - more dangerous even than sexual predators - and won.

Mulder, Skinner and Krycek - for the attention-grabbing trio were these three - were not oblivious to the effect they had. Well, okay, Mulder was, but Krycek was aware - and wary - enough for two so it balanced out.

They had a corner table in the restaurant. None of them could bear to sit with their back to the room so they were all crowded together in the corner - which had certain other advantages . . .

They had quietly enjoyed feeding one another choice morsels, ignoring (not even noticing, in the case of Mulder) the fact that the rest of the patrons of the restaurant - and some of the staff - were watching their every move.

They had laughed and joked and held hands, and only Mulder had not realised that nearly every chair in the place had been angled so that diners could see the three men in the corner who were so obviously in love . . .

They were better-looking than any of the men you see on TV, the women were whispering. The men agreed, but had more sense than to say so.

The waiter brought them a birthday cake with ten X-shaped candles on top.

Twenty wicks, two per candle.

The three men laughed some more, oblivious to the susurration of sighs that rippled through the room as the women decided the candles represented kisses.

The birthday boy was about to blow out the candles when he noticed someone outside the restaurant, pressing her beak-like nose against the glass of the picture window and peering myopically into the interior.

"Oh shit," Krycek muttered and he hastily closed his eyes, blew out the candles with one puff and wished the apparition to disappear.

Another superstition bit the dust.

When he opened his eyes, Davina was in the restaurant, angrily shaking off the maitre d's restraining arm and heading his - no, their - way.

'She hasn't changed,' he thought. 'Fat, ugly, aggressive . . . about as sexy as a walrus.'

Although Alex supposed female walruses were attractive to male walruses.

'Not even a male walrus with BO could find Davina attractive," he thought despairingly.

She stood in front of the table, hands on her hips, glaring at him.

"Alex," she said. "Nice to see you. Happy Birthday."

Seven words. Seven words and his world crashed.

Part 2

It didn't happen straight away of course.

Skinner and Mulder, perfect gentlemen, stood and Skinner invited her to join them.

She did, grabbing Mulder's spoon and attacking the as yet untouched cake.

Mulder glared at her and removed it from her reach.

"We haven't been introduced," he said icily.

Skinner shot him a look and then turned to Alex.

"Introduce us, Alex," he said quietly, his tone allowing for no argument, no reprieve.

"Walter Skinner, Fox Mulder, this is Davina . . . uuh, Davina . . . "

"Davina Krycek," she said, grinning. "Alex's wife."

Skinner gazed at the woman wearing a bilious shade of green that did nothing for her unhealthy-looking complexion. Then he looked at Alex, *his* Alex. Slender, wiry, healthy . . . he couldn't believe it.

She'd *swamp* him. He'd suffocate beneath that bulk.

"Wife?" Walter said.

"That's right," she said, grinning happily, oblivious to the effect her words were having on the three men.

"Wife. Has he never mentioned me?"

She turned to Alex with a parody of a coquettish smile.

"Alex, you are naughty. Fancy not telling your friends about me. Anyone would think you're ashamed of me."

Mulder made a noise in the back of his throat, a small, distressed, choking noise. Before Alex could turn to him to say anything, Mulder had swept the thankfully extinguished candles off the creamy, gooey meringue and fudge and chocolate creation that represented Krycek's ideal cake, then he had picked up the cake and pushed cake and Alex together so that Alex's face met the cake before the cake could slide relatively harmlessly off the plate into Alex's lap.

Alex had the feeling no-one would be lapping the cake off his face this time.

He was dimly aware of Mulder storming out.

Skinner, Alex assumed, took care of everything else. The bill. Davina. Cleaning him up a little. Getting him home.

He remembered what happened when Skinner got him home much more clearly.

He was undressed and put into the shower, where Walter cleaned him off then turned the spray onto cold.

Alex yelled.

"I need you conscious," Walter growled.

Alex's heart sank. He knew that growl. It wasn't the sexy, "I'm a big bad bear coming to fuck you senseless" growl that Alex loved, it was the "You're in deep shit and soon your arse will know it" growl.

His shivers had little to do with the frigid water cascading over his naked body.

Mulder arrived after Alex had already been in the corner for forty minutes. Alex was naked except for a t-shirt which Mulder had given him one Christmas. It was one of a pair. One said on the back "My arse will be toast" and the other "Danger: Glowing Buttocks. Eye protection must be worn."

Alex didn't think either of them were very funny but he had retaliated in kind, buying Mulder two t-shirts for use in the same circumstances.

One said simply "I fucked up," the other "Fuck with care."

Skinner kept them for punishments. He said he liked to see them. Neither Alex or Fox felt like arguing.

They'd learned to choose their battles carefully.

Mulder took in the scene at a glance and sprawled on the couch.

Skinner threw his t-shirt at him and pointed to his corner.

Alex heard Mulder sigh dramatically and then the sounds of him changing into his t-shirt and moving into the corner.

"Alex, come here."

Alex shuffled reluctantly to stand in front of his lover.

"Why didn't you tell us you are married?"

"I'm not. We're divorced. She's part of my past. A very small part."

"She didn't look so small to me," Mulder muttered, snickering, his good humour restored now that there was the prospect of Alex getting paddled.

Walter moved across the room so quickly and quietly that Mulder had no warning of the stinging SMACK delivered to his bare arse by Skinner's belt.

He jumped and yelped.

"Even sounds like a fox," Alex muttered.

"ENOUGH!" Walter bellowed, making both of the younger men jump.

"Now, Alex, you are resting your defence on the fact that you are, first of all, divorced and secondly that your marriage didn't last long?"

Alex nodded.

"I've never told you everything that happened to me while I was with the Consortium. The deprivations, the torture, the beatings."

He allowed his lashes to flutter and his lip to quiver, knowing the effect these manoeuvres had on the stern but compassionate soul of the former Marine.

"She was just one on a long line of tortures. Marrying me to her was their last-ditch attempt to break me to their will."

Walter looked at Mulder.

"Fox? What do you think?"

"We know about Sharon, you both know about Phoebe and Diana, I think Alex knows we should have been told. We had a discussion, didn't we? About former lovers?"

"Alex?"

Alex bowed his head in submission.

Walter patted his lap and Alex draped himself over the hard thighs.

"Alex, you know we love you," Walter said. "Both Mulder and I love you. But love isn't enough. We need you to trust us. We all talked about our previous loves and marriages and affairs. You should have mentioned Davina then."

Alex nodded. He knew Skinner was right.

Skinner was always right, but he was even more right when he had Alex over his lap, naked butt in the air awaiting a spanking.

Mulder was the one who made it is his hobby to contradict Skinner at foolish moments.

Alex jumped when Skinner's big, hard hand contacted his bare bottom with a loud SMACK!

Skinner paused, as he always did, to admire the first red handprint on the previously unmarked buttocks.

Alex hated laying there, waiting, while Skinner traced the outline of the mark with one finger.

He always forgot how much more he hated what came next.

Skinner believed in delivering the main spanking quickly.

The fusillade of smacks that turned his pale skin to a deep red came thick and fast. By the end, Alex was kicking and squirming and yelling and crying.

Skinner helped him stand and held him, petting his hair and kissing his cheek as Alex struggled to calm down.

Then Skinner helped him change his t-shirt and sent him back to the corner.

Mulder sighed. He knew he was next.

"Fox, come here."

Mulder strolled across the room, defiance in every movement.

"How many times have we had this discussion, Mulder? You do not retaliate physically. You have a long history of hitting Alex and it *will* stop, if I have to blister your butt every morning and every night from now until doomsday."

"It was only a cake," Mulder said. "Not my fist."

"It was Alex's birthday cake. Tomorrow you will get him another and you will not be allowed to eat any of it. You will also go to the restaurant with me and apologise for your behaviour."

Mulder flushed.

"That's not fair. Alex hasn't had to apologise to me!"

"Or to me," Walter said. "I don't think that's appropriate. Love means never having to say you're sorry."

Alex choked in his corner and Mulder looked green around the gills.

"That's a low blow," he muttered, surrendering to the inevitable and draping his lanky body over Skinner's lap.

"I hope you will be able to control yourself soon, Fox. These spankings happen far too often."

"It was a shock!" Mulder protested.

"Yes, I was certainly . . . surprised," Skinner said, "but instead of helping, you had your tantrum and flounced off. Didn't you think that maybe Alex and I would've liked your support?"

Mulder bit his lip.

He felt the t-shirt being moved well away from what Walter, with what Mulder assumed was what passed for humour in the Marines, called the target area.

SMACK!

"OOOOWWW!" Mulder yelled. "That's not your hand!"

"Good observation, Agent Mulder," Skinner said dryly. "It's not."

"But all Alex got was a hand spanking."

"I view your offence as worse. We needed you and you let us down."

Skinner inspected the red oval on Mulder's left buttock, tracing it with his finger.

He loved the contrast between the hot, pink area and the pale, as yet untouched, skin.

He raised the hairbrush again and brought it down hard on Mulder's right buttock.

Mulder yelled again and Skinner paused to inspect his handiwork once more.

Then he methodically and quickly smacked Mulder's bare bottom with the hairbrush, covering the jiggling flesh with rapidly-delivered hard spanks and turning the skin red and hot.

Mulder's yells soon turned to sobs.

"I'm sorry," he yelled. "I'm really sorry."

"Maybe this will help you think before you act," Skinner said firmly as he delivered a series of spanks to the sit spot.

"If not, at least it will make you think before you sit," he added, as he delivered a few more spanks to that tender area, just to be sure.

Then it was over. Skinner left Mulder across his lap for a few minutes before helping him stand and enveloping him in a hug.

"There," he soothed, "All over now. I hope you remember we need you, Alex and I. You can't just go chasing off."

Mulder nodded.

"I've learned," he said between sobs.

"Change your t-shirt," Skinner directed, "And join Alex in his corner. I want you two to remember you're together now. You can cuddle but no sex and no talking."

Obediently, Mulder changed into the hated "Fuck with Care" t-shirt and he joined Alex in his corner.

Skinner watched with satisfaction as, after a brief pause, the two men hugged each other, wordlessly offering each other comfort and reassurance.

Part 4

Alex woke the next morning in their big bed. Mulder was in his usual place on the other side of Skinner. Skinner had one arm around each of his young lovers.

The same as usual. Yet not the same.

How could they forgive him? And what did Davina want?

The previous night had been the same as usual. After a punishment, they all instinctively reached for one another once in the haven of their big bed.

Soft caresses, murmurs of love and gentle kisses traded between the three of them usually served to bring the three of them together again after the fractures of transgression and punishment.

Both Mulder and Krycek needed a lot of physical reassurance after any punishment and Skinner was only too happy to give that to them, and to facilitate their giving it to one another.

So they had all gone to bed early and gradually the tender loving had turned to passionate love-making.

Mulder had seemed the most needy so he had, by unspoken mutual consent, been placed in the middle. Skinner, behind him, had waited until Mulder's cock was buried in Krycek's arse before plunging his own erect flesh into Mulder's pliant body.

Then Skinner and Krycek had done their best to match Mulder's rhythm as he rocked between the two of them, impaling himself on Skinner's cock and then embedding himself in Alex's body.

Mulder's hand on Krycek's cock had sent Krycek screaming over the edge, Mulder followed soon after and Skinner needed just a few hard thrusts before he joined his lovers in a sticky, sated cuddle.

Skinner had fetched a cloth and cleaned his lovers before they fell asleep.

Krycek couldn't remember how they'd been arranged when they fell asleep but they always woke up on the same position.

Mulder to one side, his arm thrown across Skinner's body so that his hand was touching Alex.

Alex on Skinner's other side, his arm thrown across Skinner so that he was touching Mulder.

Two dark heads, one on each of Skinner's broad shoulders.

Skinner's arms round them

Krycek loved waking up in the morning.

Except that this morning everything was different.

Skinner woke next. Alex felt the arm around him squeeze him gently and he looked up to see two brown eyes regarding him steadily.

"Hi," Alex whispered.

Skinner smiled.

"Hi yourself. You were deep in thought. Care to share?"

"I . . . Davina . . . uhh . . . no, not really."

"Alex, you've not fucked everything up. Now go back to sleep."

"Fox?" Skinner asked.

Mulder sighed. Profiling one of his lovers at some unearthly hour of the morning was not his idea of fun.

"Alex thinks he's changed everything," Mulder explained. "He's forgotten the primary rule. We fuck up sometimes. When we do, we get punished. Then it's over."

"Alex?" Skinner said.

"I just don't see how you can forget Davina like that," Alex said, his eyes filling with unshed tears.

"We can't," Mulder said. "The woman is enormous, has the dress sense of a slug and how you ever got it up for her is beyond me. I bet she wore nylon nighties."

Alex blushed.

"Umm . . . most of the time I didn't," he said.

"Not surprised," Mulder mumbled.

"Not for that reason . . . I mean, there's a lot of her I agree but . . . "

"But what?" Skinner asked.

"I'm gay. Remember? I'm sure I told you two that. And if I didn't, maybe the fact I'm in bed with two men might be a clue."

"So am I," Mulder said, "But I'm bi."

"Given your disastrous relationships with women and the fact you've been Scully's partner for God knows how long without fucking her, somehow I doubt that you are," Krycek said. "However, if it makes you feel better . . . I, on the other hand, know I am gay."

"So why marry?"

"I told you, the Consortium made me marry her. And now . . . look, I know I should've told you but it was not a good time for me."

"I can imagine," Mulder said. "Alex, you've been punished for not telling us, it's over. Now all we have to do is find out why she's here. And as we can't start doing that until a civilised hour . . . "

Mulder leaned over and kissed Alex.

Skinner watched, his eyes darkening with arousal, then he started running his hands over the two lithe forms in his arms.

Soon the bed was a writhing, moaning mass of sweat-slicked flesh as three men kissed and touched and tasted.

Skinner found himself laid on his back, Alex draped over him, their cocks close together.

This was Alex's favourite position and both Mulder and Skinner knew he needed this.

To be indulged.

Some indulgence! Skinner loved to feel Alex draped over him, skin against skin.

Mulder loved to see his two lovers, face to face, kissing and caressing one another as he worked first his fingers then his cock into Alex's arse.

Alex moaned as he felt the blunt head of Mulder's cock push past the tight muscle into the wet heat of his body.

Then Mulder started thrusting. Each thrust moved Alex's body against Skinner's body, their cocks sliding together.

Alex cried out as the pleasure sparked through him.

Mulder's slow careful thrusts got harder and faster.

Alex could feel his cock against Skinner's cock, sliding and slipping together as Mulder pounded into his arse.

Skinner slid a hand between them to hold their two cocks closer together.

The friction caused intense pleasure to coil through Alex's body.

Mulder's voice came to him, ragged with passion.

"I love you," he cried.

Alex's back arched as he came, spurting his release over himself and Skinner.

And still Mulder pounded into his arse, and still Krycek's belly rubbed Skinner's cock . . . and Krycek lay there, sated, as his lovers enjoyed his body.

They both called his name as they came.

Krycek felt better as he was gathered into a sticky, smelly hug.

Part 5

Skinner had gone shopping, Krycek had departed on some mysterious errand - Mulder suspected he was going for a much-needed haircut but Krycek always had to make even the simplest things sound like something out of a bad spy book - and Mulder was alone in the house when the phone rang.

"Alex?"

"I'm sorry, Alex isn't available, I'm Mulder, can I help?"

Mulder knew this annoyed Alex. He preferred Mulder to just say he wasn't there - Mulder, on the other hand, learned all sorts of trivia about Alex this way and he had no intention of stopping.

"It's Davina Krycek here, we met last night? You may remember me?"

Mulder sighed inwardly. Did the woman have no idea she was as memorable as root canal work with no anaesthesia - only she was less welcome and even less pleasant.

"How could I forget?" he said dryly. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm in trouble," she said. "Can we meet? I'm at the North-Eastern Hotel."

"No."

Mulder had been paddled for going off without back-up and without getting the full story *far* too often to repeat the experience - especially for a person like Davina Krycek.

"Oh. Well, look, it's like this. I had liposuction at a clinic near here, Shapeshifters, you may have heard of it?"

Mulder ground his teeth. He hated the way she ended every sentence with a question by raising her voice into what he supposed she thought was the "cute'n'cuddly" register.

"I've heard of shapeshifters," he said, allowing himself a slight grin. He'd never heard of the liposuction clinic.

'What did he need with liposuction?' he thought, preening himself, knowing his lovers thought his lean form was sexy and desirable.

"Good," she said. "Well, it's like this. You see, they're expensive and I had the operation and it was a complete success, really, but I lost some money and couldn't pay them."

"We have no money to pay for your surgery," Mulder said.

"You don't understand, they're going to put the fat back if I don't pay."

"You mean they haven't already?" Mulder said, and then he regretted it.

Davina started to cry.

Mulder hated it when a woman cried.

"Sssh," he said, "If you don't want money, what do you want?"

"Alex," she said.

"You can't have him. He's ours now."

"Not permanently," Davina said crossly, all trace of tears gone. "Just to scare them. You may not know it but beneath that angel face is the heart of a devil."

"I know Alex Krycek very well," Mulder said. "I'll ask him if he'll help."

"I don't know what I'll do if he refuses."

"Well," Mulder said sarcastically, "There are two other men living here. Maybe one of us would do?"

"Oh no, I'm sure you're both far too *nice* to be effective in a situation like this," Davina responded.

Mulder ground his teeth again. How did the woman make "nice" sound like a deadly insult?

"I'll pass on the message," Mulder said, and he hung up.

Mulder was tempted to rush off to the North-Eastern Hotel but something stopped him - mainly the remembrance of the strapping he'd got last time he ditched Scully. He had a feeling that rushing to the aid of Mrs. Krycek would get him more than a strapping.

Possibly even the cane.

He shuddered. He hated the cane. It terrified him.

When Alex returned, his hair looking a little shorter now, Mulder filled him in on the phone call.

"Let her suffer," Alex said callously.

"What?"

"Look, Fox, she was a bitch when we were married. Took a Polaroid of my limp dick and stuck it on the notice board at work. Wrote underneath it 'What are husbands for?' As far as I'm concerned, whatever she gets is not as much as she deserves."

"I was thinking of going to see her at least. She was crying . . ."

Alex laughed.

"Point one," he said, "You are a sucker for a crying woman and they all know it. Point two, she needs someone scary like me, not someone with a baby face and pouty lip like you."

"I hit you a few times," Mulder said, indignant.

Alex laughed even louder and longer.

"I was under orders to let you hit me, otherwise you'd be fertiliser by now."

"You and whose army?" Mulder demanded.

Krycek just laughed even more and swaggered out to the kitchen for two beers.

Mulder fumed silently for a split second, then grabbed his gun and his jacket and ran out of the house towards his car.

He was half-way to Davina's hotel before a smidgen of common sense began to insinuate itself into his consciousness.

He exterminated it and drove on.

He parked a block away. He was approaching the hotel when he saw a commotion at one of the rear exits. A large woman - unmistakably Davina, looking like a very large zit in a red dress with her hair now dyed blonde - was being pushed into a car.

Mulder wondered if that was her idea of a disguise. He snorted - it was like putting a baseball cap on the Statue of Liberty, and about as successful.

Mulder reached for his gun but he was too late. The car sped away, carrying Davina Krycek with it and Mulder could do nothing.

Except that he wasn't twelve now.

Mentally stepping on the worm that tried to remind him of the foolishness of his actions, Mulder ran back to his car.

He knew where they'd be going - Shapeshifters' Clinic.

Part 6

The Shapeshifters' Clinic was on the ground floor of a large, modern block in what was euphemistically known as a regeneration area.

That meant the property was new but the problems old and the rent low.

The windows were all barred and alarmed. Mulder scouted round, looking for a fire escape or back door. Nothing.

So he walked up to the front door and tried that. It was locked

He sighed and rang the bell.

A spotty young man answered the door.

"We're closed."

Mulder was already in the hall.

"It's my nose," he said, earnestly. "It's too big."

"We're closed," the spotty youth said again.

"Nonsense."

The woman who glided into the room behind him had a sultry voice laced with an accent that placed this woman as originating from the South - not deep South, Mulder thought with what little was left of his rational mind, somewhere like Virginia maybe - that had Mulder's insides churning with guilty lust.

He took a deep breath and reminded himself of Alex and Walter, their love, their faces, their cocks. . .

'Bad move, Mulder,' he thought. Now he had the start of an erection.

He turned around to face her and felt like Ben when Mrs. Robinson came on to him . . . although Mrs. Robinson never looked anything like . . .

The vision who stood before him was tall, willowy and . . . Mulder swallowed.

Her feet were small and encased in black pumps. Her legs were slim and well-shaped, the shape enhanced by sheer black hosiery.

'Stockings?' Mulder wondered, his mind still filled with visions of Mrs. Robinson.

Long legs terminated in the swelling curve of her hips which then narrowed to a perfect waist, slender and shapely, with a curve that just begged to be stroked.

Mulder swallowed again as his eyes, taking on a life of their own, travelled up her body to the swell of her breasts. She was not wearing a bra but she didn't need the support. Here were more curves that Mulder itched to stroke. He wondered what it would feel like to run a hand from her gently rounded belly, up her body and over a breast.

Soft. Warm. Welcoming.

Her pale throat joined the perfect body to a well-shaped head. Her regular features were surmounted by raven-black hair and her expression was one of deep compassion, so sincere it made Mulder want to throw himself at her feet and weep.

"Let me see," she said, and she walked towards him.

Mulder was rooted to the spot as her hand gently cupped his jaw and tilted his head.

'Just as if she's gonna kiss me,' he thought, momentarily panicked.

But she didn't attempt to kiss him, just ran one shapely, slender finger along his nose.

"This is very easily fixed," she assured Mulder, smiling gently. "And the rest of you . . . "

Her eyes swept him with the gaze of a connoisseur and she smiled again.

"Perfect," she said.

Mulder blushed and remembered the reason for his visit. Awkwardly, he wondered what to do next.

"By the way Mr . . . . ?"

"Mulder, Fox Mulder," he said automatically, and then silently cursed himself for not using a false name. Even a raw recruit at Quantico would have more sense.

"I am Doctor Ariel Roque. This is the head of my nursing staff, Firenzo Higginale."

This was apparently the spotty youth's vocation.

"You will be in good hands with Doctor Roque," Firenzo said, glancing adoringly at the doctor.

"Firenzo will take you to a room and get you settled. Then we will discuss the options and you can have a look at some noses."

Firenzo hefted a book which Mulder took to be pictures of the noses.

They made it sound so simple, he was almost tempted . . . just to spend longer with Her.

She was like a siren, luring one hapless F.B.I. agent to . . .

A chill ran through him as he recalled the legend.

To his death.

He shook himself. He had to play along if he was to have any hope of rescuing the hapless Davina.

Firenzo helped him onto a couch and Dr Roque busied herself taking his blood pressure.

Mulder was gazing up at her deep, deep brown eyes as she continued talking to him about his new nose in that soothing, sex-laden voice when he felt a prick in his other arm.

Firenzo had given him an injection.

Mulder tried to protest but nothing worked. No sound. No movement. Panicked, his eyes tried to find the reassuring gaze of Doctor Roque but to no avail.

He could only listen to the conversation with growing horror.

"She did well," Firenzo said.

"She did indeed. If the other comes too, we will release her from her debt to us."

"Suppose the third one comes too, what was his name?"

"Skinner," Doctor Roque said, and in her mouth the name of his lover seemed sullied.

Mulder tried to move but could not blink.

"Yes, him. Suppose he comes?"

"We will offer her another operation," Doctor Roque said and Mulder could hear the menacing smile in her voice.

"Strip this one," Doctor Roque said. "Let's see what we have."

To Mulder she said, "Don't bother trying to move, Firenzo has given you a muscle relaxant."

Mulder had to lay passive while rough hands stripped him.

"Hmm," she said. "Toes are okay but feet have had a hard life. Nicely shaped legs but I bet the joints are almost worn out. Musculature suggests a runner."

"Arouse him, Firenzo," she commanded.

"With pleasure, Ariel."

Mulder couldn't even shudder as the rough hands stroked his cock to arousal.

"Nice," Ariel said. "Balls?"

Firenzo's hands cupped his balls and Mulder tried to yell at the hands tightened but he could not shout.

"Two good ones," Firenzo reported.

"Torso is good, nipples excellent," Ariel continued her survey. "Shoulders are a bit too muscled, that turns to fat if the exercise regime is not maintained. Hair is good, eyes lovely," she smiled evilly down into Mulder's panicked eyes.

"Some woman's going to love that pouty lip, boy," she said.

"Nose?" Firenzo asked.

"He's right about that," Ariel said, "Unusable. Turn him."

Firenzo flipped Mulder onto his front.

A finger probed his arse.

"Nice and tight," Firenzo said. "Even with the relaxant. Some slack-muscled size queen'll love this arsehole."

"Buttocks are good too but we'll have to wait for this reddening to subside."

A slap landed on Mulder's bare bottom.

"Been a naughty boy, have we?" Ariel asked, laughing. "Well, it just means you'll have to stay here a couple of days before we can start using your parts. No big deal. Gives your 'friends' time to try to rescue you and then we can get them too."

Mulder wanted to cry.

Naked, humiliated, assaulted . . . and now he was being stored as some sort of spare part donor and being used as bait to lure in his lovers as well.

Life could not get any worse.

A sedative sent him into blessed oblivion.

Part 7

Krycek heard the front door slam and rushed into the sitting room, still holding two beers. He was in time to see Mulder get into his car and roar away.

"Shit!" he said out loud.

He ran upstairs and changed. Just putting on his assassin clothes made him feel more deadly. Black sweat pants - tight jeans if they were playing sex games but they were too confining to be practical in the real world - black hooded top and black cotton jacket. No leather, makes too much noise. Then he strapped on his gun, secreted various accessories in his pockets, some obvious as decoys, some semi-concealed, just in case he ran across any of those types who thought they were clever, and the rest, the really deadly stuff, well-hidden.

He was surprised at how uncomfortable this made him, putting on the trappings of his past life, and he resolved to report this to Skinner so that Mulder could have his arse well-blistered for it.

He never doubted his ability to get Mulder back.

Someone should have reminded him that pride cometh before a fall.

For fall is what he did.

He did do one thing right - he took five minutes to write Skinner a note, telling him everything that had happened so far.

It might have been better had he simply phoned his lover and got official help but Alex had worked alone for too long for such thinking to come naturally to him.

He drove past the clinic, assessing the building's weaknesses, then parked and headed for the roof.

Breaking in was easy, and he crept down the stairs, wishing the clinic was on the twentieth floor rather than the ground floor. The building appeared to be deserted and by the time he reached the final flight if stairs, Alex was relaxed and confident.

A tripline had him tumbling base over apex down the final - blessedly short - flight of stairs.

He came round to find himself stripped and naked on a bed, his hands handcuffed to the headrail and his feet secured to a railing at the foot of the bed. He turned his head and saw Mulder lying unconscious in the next bed.

"Wh . . .what . . .?"

"Ah, Mr. Krycek . . . or may I call you Alex?"

Alex turned his head and saw the most repulsively beautiful woman he had ever seen. His eyes burned with copper-green fire as he glared at her contemptuously.

"What have you done to him?"

"The same as we have done to you, except that we have not sedated you yet."

"Why?"

"It was part of the deal with Davina. She wanted you to know that she had set you up for this. She wants you to know what will happen to you now."

"As if I care," Krycek blustered.

"You and your delightful friend are to be used to enhance the appearance of others. You will be donors. He was conscious while we checked his 'parts' but we decided to check you while you were out."

"What do you mean?"

"To find out which parts we can use."

"Oh?"

Ariel smiled. Alex shuddered. There was no humour, no warmth behind that smile.

"Your pert and rounded buttocks are adorable. Much better shape than your friend's and I thought his were good. Once the damage has healed I'm sure we'll soon sell them for a good price," she said.

"Arsehole"

"That too, Firenzo tells me it's still nice and tight."

"Dickhead."

"We usually transplant the whole penis, it functions better that way. Which reminds me, we need to get you erect and take some measurements before we test penile function."

"Wanker."

"I suppose you could call it that. Firenzo!"

Firenzo brought Alex to full hardness.

"Hmm, not a prime specimen, too curved," Ariel said.

Firenzo sniggered.

"No-one wants a Clinton," he said. "At least, only if they have no other options. But still, his buttocks, they are like mozzarella cheeses. Firm, rounded, delectable."

Alex thrashed and cursed in his bonds and Ariel clucked in annoyance.

"It's bad enough that we have to wait for your buttocks to heal because you have been a bad boy. Please don't damage yourself any more."

Alex growled and carried on doing his best to damage them - any damage to himself was incidental.

At a sign from Ariel, Firenzo grabbed his hand in a surprisingly strong grasp and Ariel administered an injection which left Alex limp and unconscious.

Part 8

Walter Skinner was not a happy A.D.

He got home to find a cold and empty house. No dinner, no loving Alex and Fox, just a note from Alex.

When he read it, he went from being mildly disappointed to incandescent with fury in the blink of an eye.

He rushed out to his car, calling for back-up as he went.

Then he called Scully.

There were times when he was very tempted to tell Scully about his arrangement with Mulder - and this was one of them. The only thing that stopped him was the certain knowledge that she would want to spank Fox herself - and Skinner had *no* intention of sharing that near-perfect arse with anyone else.

Not even Scully.

She'd have to find her own stress-reduction methods.

Ten cars convened on the Shapeshifters' Clinic. Four teams of two agents each headed for the roof and began the exhausting descent.

Later, much later, Krycek took a little comfort in the fact that the first agent also fell down the stairs, tripped by the fishing line. Seven got through.

Three teams took the windows and the back door, in case anyone tried to make a run for it.

Three teams backed up a seriously pissed-off A.D. and an even more scary Doctor Dana Scully as they knocked at the front door.

Firenzo was knocked to the floor as Skinner pushed past him and strode into the hallway, Dana behind him.

The next agent in line picked him up and cuffed him to the door.

As seven agents burst into the clinic from the stairwell, another six followed Skinner and Scully.

"Search the place," Skinner commanded.

The agents fanned out, in their pairs, one partner always watching the other's back.

They checked each room carefully - this was *not* the time to make any mistakes, not with A.D. Skinner both watching and in such a foul mood.

None of them admitted to not wanting to cross the formidable Scully but they all wondered at the balls of Mulder - partner to Scully and lover to Skinner.

He must be tougher than he looks, they had all concluded. Or a glutton for punishment.

"Here, sir," called an agent.

Her name is unimportant as she does nothing else worthy of mention during her entire F.B.I. career.

Skinner wondered why she was blushing as he strode across the hall.

It was obvious when he got to the doorway of the room.

His lovers were unconscious and naked.

He took a step across the threshold into the room and froze.

"Don't move," a voice said. "I have a syringe here full of poison. One wrong move and he's dead."

Doctor Ariel Roque stood over Mulder, a syringe in her hand. As Skinner took a step closer, her hand moved down towards Mulder's prone form.

Skinner froze.

"Drop it," a steely voice said behind him.

Ariel Roque smiled and lowered the syringe.

A shot rang out and the syringe shattered. Blood and bone from Ariel Roque's ruined hand splattered the wall and Mulder's unconscious and naked body.

Ariel screamed.

"Paramedics," Scully called.

She had no intention of attending to the dangerous doctor, she had two patients to attend to - and then *she* was going to kill her partner.

Part 9

Three days later it was all over bar the court cases.

Alex had paid Firenzo an unofficial visit while Firenzo was on remand and scared him into a full confession in return for a suspended prison sentence.

Davina and Doctor Ariel Roque were looking at a long time in prison.

Mulder and Krycek were looking at spending the rest of their lives eating their meals standing up.

Skinner was furious with them.

It was the evening of the third day, their first full day at home as they had only been released from hospital the previous afternoon.

Skinner was in his study at home when he handed them each their pre-spanking t-shirts.

They exchanged glances. When Skinner separated himself by sitting behind his desk, they both knew it was going to be Bad. Very Bad. Silently, they changed into the t-shirts.

"Stand there," Skinner said, pointing to two spots in front of the desk. "I want you to tell me everything that happened."

They did. They both knew it had been a very near thing and neither of them wanted Skinner any more annoyed than he was already.

They faltered when it came to recounting their argument but Skinner growled and they finished that section of the narrative.

When Mulder started trying to describe what Ariel and Firenzo had done to him, his eyes filled.

Skinner stood up and walked round the desk to pull him into a hug.

"Later, Fox," he said. "Whatever they did, it was not your fault and you are not going to be punished for it. Understand?"

Mulder was crying so Skinner motioned to Alex and they both hugged him until he calmed.

"Sorry," Mulder muttered, embarrassed.

Alex kissed his cheek. Skinner dropped a light kiss on his head.

"We love you," Skinner said. "Nothing to apologise for."

Mulder and Krycek winced - that was a bit close to That Saying - and returned to their places, standing in front of the desk.

Skinner returned to his chair and listened to the rest of Mulder's narrative.

Mulder only hesitated once more, when he was recounting which parts Ariel had decided were usable. He had already had to include this information in his official statement but he had omitted one or two of the more embarrassing items.

This time he told the full story and he saw Skinner's eyebrows rise as he recounted the 'pouty lips' comment. His heart sank - Skinner had noticed his lying by omission. More spanks.

When he'd finished, Skinner merely said a mild "Thank-you" and turned his gaze to Krycek.

"Your turn," he said.

Krycek sighed and told his story. He blushed as he recounted falling down the stairs, deceived by such a simple thing as a tripline.

He blushed even more when he recounted Ariel's comments about his cock being almost unsalable.

It was a sign of how deeply the two men knew they were in trouble that Mulder did not as much as snigger or comment.

Krycek was grateful for that.

"Thank-you, gentlemen," Skinner said. "I have to say, given the commercial interest shown in your posteriors, that this whole exercise gives a whole new meaning to the phrase saving your arses."

The two miscreants exchanged glances.

The study, behind the desk, calling them gentlemen and now bad humour.

Their arses were going to be more than toast, they were going to be burnt toast!

"To your corners," Skinner said. "Alex, you will be in the corner for thirty minutes. Fox, you will be in the corner for thirty minutes too, and then for as long as it takes me to punish Alex. You will listen as he is being punished and reflect on the fact that your punishment will be worse."

Two subdued men scurried to their corners.

"When I call you to come out of the corner for your spanking, I expect you both to be able to tell me exactly what you have done wrong, why you are being punished and what you should have done."

Skinner could take no pleasure from the slogans on the two t-shirts or even from the fine arses on display.

This one had been too close.

Part 10

"Alex, come here," the quiet voice commanded.

Alex felt his guts clench in fear. Despite all his efforts otherwise, he had not been able to convince himself that leaving the note would get him off the hook.

And it was a Big Hook.

When he saw the array of punishment implements on the desk, he thought he was going to throw up.

Tawse, cane, hairbrush, ruler, a small bar of soap, four different paddles, a belt . . . if Skinner was going to use all those on him . . .

"Alex."

The quiet voice pulled his attention away from the horrifying collection.

"Tell me why you deserve to be punished."

"I . . . I didn't tell you everything about Davina, about what sort of woman she was. I teased Mulder. I went in to rescue him without backup, although I *did* leave you a note . . . " Alex's voice trailed off hopefully but Skinner's face was impassive.

Alex sighed and continued.

"I fell for a stupid trick and took a header down the stairs. . umm, did you find my clothes?"

"Yes. Luckily I got to them first."

Skinner fetched out a large locked box from underneath his desk.

Oh shit! Alex's heart dropped.

"I carried forbidden items intended purely for self-defence," he said.

"We have had this conversation before, Alex." Skinner said. "A garotte. Knuckle dusters. Three throwing knives. Plastic explosive and a detonator. Two guns. A cosh."

"The cosh is just for show," Alex protested. "I can kill with my bare hands."

Skinner glared at him and Alex went quiet.

"First, I don't agree with your first statement. You did tell us about Davina, in the end, and you have already been punished for not telling us about her when you should've done. It has been such a long time since you saw her, I am not sure your observations on her character would've carried any weight. So you will not be punished for that."

Krycek nodded. He had no intention of arguing his guilt. He left stupid stunts like that to Mulder.

"However, I do agree that you should not have taunted Mulder the way you did and you will be punished for that. Leaving the note was good - but calling me would've been better. Alex, you have to get used to the idea that you are not alone."

Alex nodded. He'd tried, he'd really tried . . .

"I am not punishing you for not seeing the tripline. I am punishing you for violating our agreement - and you *did* agree to the restrictions on what weapons you could carry."

Alex nodded.

"Yes," he said. "I agreed."

"So, I will give you a hand spanking for going off without back-up as I recognise how hard you were trying when you left the note - and it was a full and useful account of what had happened and what you were planning. I hope this spanking will help remind you, if there is a next time, that you are not alone any more."

Skinner moved over to the leather-covered punishment couch and sat down, motioning Krycek to join him.

He picked up the small bar of hotel soap.

"Open," Skinner said firmly.

Alex opened his mouth and felt the soap being slipped under his tongue.

"I don't want you to choke on it, just keep it there until your spanking is finished. That is for mouthing off to Mulder. Lose the soap and you get the cane."

Alex nodded, the foul taste already permeating his mouth and bringing tears to the back of his eyes.

He hated the cane. He would *not* lose the soap.

Skinner draped Alex over his lap and stroked his still slightly pink buttocks.

"You haven't lost the colour from your last spanking, Alex, and here you are over my knee again."

Alex could not answer because of the soap in his mouth.

SMACK!

Alex jumped. Skinner had hit him *hard*.

He felt Skinner's finger as it traced the handprint on his hindquarters and squirmed.

"I can see why That Woman liked your arse so much, Alex. It should be declared a National Treasure. But perhaps not put on display . . . "

The next smack felt as if it was even harder and Alex yelped, careful to try to retain the hated soap.

Suddenly he appreciated just how diabolical Skinner was in using the soap in this way.

The soap would mean that Alex couldn't yell and shout as much as usual - which would be easier for Mulder, still facing the wall in his corner and unable to hear the quiet conversation as Alex recounted his sins.

It also meant Mulder would be lulled into a false sense of security.

Alex felt sorry for Mulder. Skinner didn't often use mindfucks as part of his punishment routine . . . only when he was seriously pissed off.

He squirmed as the smacks on his reddening buttocks fell on the sit spot over and over again, his yelling muted by the presence of the soap.

"Alex, I want you to remember this. Remember how painful this is. Remember how much you hate it. And remember YOU - SMACK, SMACK, SMACK - ARE - SMACK, SMACK, SMACK - NOT - SMACK, SMACK, SMACK - ALONE - SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK. Do I need to spell it out again?"

Alex shook his head, tears streaming down his face.

"Good."

Skinner took the soap away and helped Alex stand up.

"Come on," he said gently. "Go and wash your mouth out."

Alex was relieved to be rid of the soap and even more relieved to rinse the taste out of his mouth. It took a while - the soap had been highly perfumed, some sort of generic floral scent, and tasted horrible.

He returned to the study.

"You have a paddling coming to you, Alex, but first I want you to return to your corner while I attend to Fox."

Part 11

Fox Mulder walked over to the desk and his face paled as he saw the array of implements laid out on the desk.

"Fox, I cannot begin to tell you how angry I am with you. Would you like to tell me what you think you should be punished for?" Skinner said.

"Allowing Alex to get to me. Going off in a temper. Following Davina to the clinic. Going in without backup. Omitting things from my report."

"Fox, you said at several times in your narrative that you held back from action because you knew I would not approve. And that is good. Very good. Yet once Alex'd got you annoyed, once you flashed on old memories, all your common sense deserted you. So this punishment is going to be memorable. To make sure that next time you remember what will happen, even when you are angry and upset."

Mulder nodded. He tried to focus on the loving he knew would follow the punishment to keep his roiling guts under control but he failed and with a strangled cry he dashed to the bathroom where he threw up.

"Get some water, Alex," Skinner said as he followed Mulder and held him as he retched miserably, then wiped his face and gave him a glass of slightly lemony water to rinse his mouth.

"Better?" Skinner asked gently.

Mulder nodded.

"Good, come on then."

Skinner helped him up and they returned to the study. Alex was already back in his corner, reddened butt on display.

"Very good, Alex," Skinner said, and he saw the twitch of the left shoulder that indicated Alex appreciated the compliment.

It had taken Skinner a long time to learn Alex's little signals.

"Come over here, please."

Alex joined Mulder in front of the desk.

"Okay, Mulder, I know you hate waiting to find out what your punishment will be so this is what will be happening. I've been doing some reading on the Internet and I came across a very interesting idea. I'm sure you'll both like it. It's called a punishment tour. For the next week, you will both have a list of chores to do. As you started this whole miserable mess by arguing, a lot of the chores will require you to work together. You do *not* want to know the penalty for failure. You do *not* want to risk my anger by falling out any more."

Skinner glared at them both to emphasise this point.

"At the end of the day, you will both spend some time in the corner and then you will be spanked and go to bed. You will watch no television and drink no alcohol. No chocolate. No trips out."

"No chocolate!" Alex thought. "Shit! He is pissed."

He said nothing, however, just nodded along with Mulder, feeling a bit like one of those ghastly nodding dogs people used to put on the parcel shelf of their car.

"Now," Skinner continued, "In the stories the punishment at the end of every day was always a hand spanking. That, Alex, is what you will look forward to. You, Fox, will alternate hand spankings and spankings with one of these implements. Alex will choose the four implements to be used. At the end of the week you will both get another spanking using implements not used during the week."

Alex had to admire his lover's subtlety. Skinner knew Alex hated the cane and yet they both knew how much more Mulder hated and feared it. If Alex selected the cane, Mulder would worry himself sick until after he'd been punished with it. If Alex didn't select the cane, he might get it himself at the end of the week.

Alex considered the selection. Alex was afraid that if Walter thought he was being too kind, he'd intervene and give Mulder the cane every day.

He picked the tawse, the ruler, the belt . . . his hand hovered over the cane and then moved on and he selected the medium paddle with holes.

He hoped he'd chosen a balance of hard and soft implements, although Alex was aware of the fact that soft was very much a relative term especially when Walter Skinner was administering the spanking. The cane was left on the desk.

He heard Mulder exhale softly.

"Thank-you, Alex," Skinner said. "Before you go back to your corner, Alex, I want to say something else about a punishment tour, something that I read in one of the stories. One of characters tells one of the others this. He says 'When our kids are in the most trouble, that's when we want them closest to us. That's the time you don't want them to go anywhere. And that's how the idea of a punishment tour was born!' Now I know we are lovers, not a parent and children but that is nevertheless how I feel. I nearly lost both of you. So I am keeping you close because I love you and I need to have you close for a while. Okay?"

They both nodded.

"Fine," Skinner said, and he sent Alex back to his corner.

"Over the desk, Mulder," Skinner said briskly.

His heart pounding and his gut clenching, Mulder lay himself over the desk, his bare bottom presented for punishment.

"Yell all you like," Skinner said, and he brought the hairbrush down on Mulder's unprotected flesh hard.

Mulder yelled. Skinner paused to admire the mark he'd made, a bright red oval decorating the pale pink skin.

Then he stopped admiring the buttocks now tensing as they awaited the next spank and just peppered them with hard smacks, turning the pink skin a rosy red.

Mulder shifted and fidgeted until Skinner pinned him in place with a large hand on the small of his back.

"Keep still, Fox," he said, and then he resumed his assault on Mulder's posterior, determined to keep his lover safe.

Mulder yelled and shouted, then cried. He promised Skinner never to do it again, he promised to be good and then he went quiet and just sobbed.

Skinner stopped.

"Stay there," he said, and he picked up the cane and placed it on the desk in front of Fox's face.

"Well?" he asked.

Mulder sighed.

"Yes," he said. "I know. I'm stupid and I deserve it."

"Fox, you did something stupid, that's undeniable. That does not make you stupid. Now, do you agree that for your stupid and dangerous actions you deserve a thorough caning?"

Mulder swallowed.

"Yes," he gasped. "I agree."

"Good," Skinner said and he raised the cane and brought it down on Mulder's bottom, laying a line of fire across his buttocks and making Mulder scream.

Skinner applied three more painful strokes to Mulder's sore flesh and then he stopped.

He waited for Mulder to calm down a little before helping him stand and hugging him.

"There," he said. "All over for today."

He held Mulder, petting him and stroking him and reassuring him that he was loved, until Mulder was calmer, then handed him the post-spanking "Fuck with Care" t-shirt and sent him to his corner.

"Alex," Skinner said, and Alex walked over to his lover, now seated on the couch again with a small paddle next to him.

Alex placed himself across Skinner's lap and waited.

"This is for owning and carrying weaponry which we had both agreed you would not own or carry. "

He felt one big hand part his buttocks and the first smack fell on the tender flesh inside his buttock cheeks.

Skinner admired his handiwork, a small round red mark showing up on the previously unpunished flesh.

The next smack was in the same area. It hurt and Alex yelled. He was lost in a sea of pain after that, as Skinner turned the sensitive flesh pink, then red, then turned his attention to Alex's inner thighs.

Alex was kicking and shouting well before Skinner was ready to stop punishing his disobedient and reckless lover.

He was crying softly when Skinner stopped and helped him stand, then guided him back down to sit on Skinner's hard thighs.

Skinner hugged him, letting him cry.

"Alex, I love you. That means if anything was to happen to you I'd be devastated. So would Mulder."

Alex cried harder.

Skinner held him tightly and let him cry, then gave him his post-spanking "Danger: Glowing Buttocks. Eye protection must be worn," t-shirt and sent him to share the corner with Mulder.

Part 12

Skinner left his lovers in their corner for twenty minutes. He was pleased to see Alex was comforting Mulder and they were hugging and stroking one another.

"Bed," he said at the end of the allotted time.

They both went to the master bedroom without complaint. Skinner joined them.

"Come here," he said.

They did, and he pulled them into a hug.

"Do you know how close I came to losing both of you?" he asked. "And do you know what that would do to me?"

Mulder and Alex hugged him, startled to feel tears trickling onto their t-shirts as Skinner rested his head first on one precious shoulder, then the other.

It was a while before anyone spoke. They simply gave and received reassurance that they had survived, that they were together, that they loved one another.

Skinner was the first to speak.

"Confession bed tonight," he said.

Obediently, they stripped off their t-shirts and went into the guest room, which housed an equally large and comfortable bed.

The Confession Bed dated from the earliest days of their relationship. They all brought baggage to the relationship, they all had nightmares and memories and they none of them wanted those issues bringing into their bed.

But sometimes they needed the comfort of skin on skin, the warmth of a bed and loving arms wound around them. The couch wasn't large enough.

So Skinner had bought a second big bed and installed it in the guest room. Krycek had quickly christened it the Confession Bed.

The tradition was that whoever was confessing lay on his side in the middle, with one of them behind him and the other in front of him, held securely and lovingly while the three of them talked.

Krycek and Mulder hesitated, they didn't know who would be in the middle.

"Mulder was awake while they abused him," Skinner said softly. "So he goes first."

Mulder climbed into the big bed, Krycek behind him. Mulder felt Krycek's strong arms wind round him, holding him securely and safely. His butt hurt where Krycek was pressed against him but it was a deserved pain and Mulder made no complaint.

Skinner pulled the curtains and turned out the lights before he got in on Mulder's other side and lay facing him.

Mulder felt his hands held in Skinner's comforting grasp.

"Take your time, Fox," Skinner said. "Just tell us what happened."

It took a while but Skinner was firm in his resolve to get all the ugliness out into the open before it festered and hurt his lover.

By the time he finished his narrative, Fox was sobbing and Skinner and Krycek were both hugging him, reassuring him that he was loved, that he was the survivor of this encounter, that what happened was not his fault.

When Mulder's tears dried, Skinner pulled back and looked at him.

"Fox," he said. "Look at me."

Mulder obeyed.

"Alex and I are going to reclaim your body. You are ours. Your body is ours and we are going to touch you now."

Mulder nodded.

"Please," he whispered.

He felt Skinner's hand around his limp cock and sighed. Skinner's kiss swallowed the sigh.

Alex was peppering his back with soft kisses.

It did not take them long to get Mulder to full arousal.

"This is our cock," Skinner said, as he pumped the erect cock in question.

"Yes," Mulder gasped.

"And this is our arse," Alex said as one slick finger penetrated Mulder's body.

"Yes," Mulder gasped. "Yours. I am yours."

"And we are yours," Skinner said.

"Yes," Mulder gasped, as his body moved back onto the penetrating finger then forward onto the firm grip around his cock.

"We are yours," Alex repeated.

"YEEESSSS," Mulder shouted as he came.

They held him tightly as he recovered.

Then Alex moved into the middle and Mulder, the profiler, took over the gentle questioning while Skinner held Alex and comforted him when he became distressed.

By the time they had finished, Alex's erection had disappeared and he was red-eyed from crying.

Mulder kissed him.

"Alex, we love you. You are ours and we are going to claim you as ours."

Alex nodded and Mulder kissed him again, then slid down in the bed to engulf Alex's limp cock with his mouth.

"Aaah," Alex sighed as he felt the warm wet heat on his cock.

"Mmmm," Mulder hummed as he felt Alex's cock swell in his mouth.

Mulder licked and sucked diligently, until Alex was gasping and panting.

"Your cock is ours," Skinner said. "And we think it is beautiful."

"Yes," Alex whispered.

"Your arse is ours," Skinner said as he slid a slick finger past the tight muscle.

"Yes," Alex whispered.

"You are ours," Skinner said as Alex pushed back onto his finger.

"Yes, I am yours. All yours," Alex shouted.

Mulder removed his mouth from Alex's cock just as Alex screamed "FOOOXX".

"You are ours," he said as he held Alex while his body spasmed and his cock spurted his release.

They held Alex as he recovered from the intense emotional and physical experience.

"Shower," Skinner said. "Then into our bed to sleep. We all need some rest."

He found himself pinned in the shower.

Mulder's slick finger prepared his arse while Alex's talented mouth licked and sucked his balls.

As Mulder pushed his cock into Walter's warm welcoming body he said "Ours, Walter. You are ours."

Alex said "Ours, Walter. You are ours," and then he could not speak as his mouth was full of Walter's cock and his tongue was doing wickedly nice things to it.

Skinner felt as though his legs would never support him through the pleasure that followed.

"AAAAHHHH," he shouted as he came, his yell reverberating in the shower.

Mulder and Alex exchanged wicked smiles, cleaned their almost insensate lover and helped him out of the shower.

Quickly, they dried him and helped him to the bed before roughly drying themselves and crawling in with him, one each side.

They all knew they had a way to go yet.

There was a punishment tour to get through, one which would be particularly tough on Mulder as he was going to be severely punished during the next week.

But they had survived.

And that, as they drifted off to sleep, was enough.

The End.

Notes:

In case anyone didn't recognise it, the extract from "a story" is from Cadillac Red's Danville series, Take Two Part 36 and is used with her kind permission.

Ben and Mrs Robinson are characters from the film The Graduate starring Dustin Hoffman and Anne Bancroft

"Love means never having to say you're sorry" comes, I think, from the film "Love Story"

The word games and puzzles you'll have to work out for yourselves