Title: Regression Redux
Email address: Peach1250@hotmail.com
Warnings: This story contains explicit m/m sex. As well as BDSM games. If that's not your bag go play somewhere else.
Archive: Just ask first please.
Disclaimer: The characters of Skinner, Krycek, Scully, Mulder, Doggett and the X-Files belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and the Fox Network. No copyright infringement is intended; no money is being made.
Summary: Post regression playtime. (New York 1800)
NOTES: Thanks to Jessabelle for beta. To JenR cause she makes me pretty pictures. And, LQ, keep the bunnies on your side of the state line.
Walter turned to look at Alex sitting tensed in the corner of the sofa.
"This is the reason you've never trusted Mulder around me, isn't it?"
"That's only part of it. Guess you think I'm an idiot, huh?"
Walter reached to pull Alex into his arms before he answered.
"Only 'cause you keep loving me after so many lifetimes of fuck-ups. You said that is only part of the reason. What else is there?"
"Why is it you are always so blind to the looks you get? In all our lives together you've never realized how fucking hot you are! Not just to me but to men and women alike. You wander down the halls and have both sexes stare at you, their chins hanging, drool running out of the corners of their mouths, and you never notice. Mulder looks at you as if you were a buffet lunch and he hasn't eaten in days. Even the Ice Queen looks now and again, mostly when you wear that gunmetal gray Boss."
"You're joking, right? Scully looks?"
"I'm not joking. If either of them would admit it to the other, they'd probably try to make a sandwich out of you."
Walter grinned his most wicked grin against the head resting on his shoulder.
"Sandwich, huh? That might be fun."
Alex jerked back from him, green eyes flashing, "You want a session with my bull whip?"
"I love it when my Master is so possessive. If you feel I need a session, Master, I will go prepare myself."
The eyes toned down as Alex realized Walter was teasing.
"The only sandwich making you will be doing, slave, is for my lunch."
"Lunch first? Then the session?" The smile on Walter's face was anything but submissive.
"Of course, I want my lunch first. Afterwards you won't be in any condition to be making lunch. Plus by then it'll be closer to dinner time."
Alex kissed Walter gently then pushed him to get him up. With a grin, Walter headed toward the kitchen. Walter turned in the doorway.
"You want roast beef or chicken salad?"
"Roast beef. I need something to fortify me for beating an unruly slave."
Walter nodded and hurried out of the room. Alex sat with a small smile on his face while he planned how he would make his slave fly for the rest of the afternoon.
I hummed as I worked on making our lunch. The days when we watched a tape were always good days. True, they sometimes brought us angst, but they also reaffirmed our love for each other. And they always led to sex in one form or another.
It had been at least a month since he had taken me to the playroom. I heard the faint sound of the shower start and knew he would want me to prepare while he ate. So I stuffed a bite of sandwich into my mouth and took a swig of the beer I had been sipping.
By the time he appeared in the doorway, his hair still damp, I was eating the last bite of my sandwich. He kissed me before he sat down to eat and smacked my butt as I headed up to take my own shower.
"Inside and out. It's going to be a long session."
My cock twitched as I headed out of the room. His voice floated after me.
"And no jerking off!"
That was a command he didn't have to issue. But it was a long-standing rule of our game playing. I was disobedient and he disciplined. Our games give us both a great deal of pleasure.
When I reached the bathroom I prepared the enema first. I held it as I shaved to make my face smooth for him. Using the toilet quickly, I then took a hurried but thorough shower. I dried carefully and then *dressed* in the seven gates of hell that had magically appeared while I was washing.
I hurried to the basement to find him wearing just a pair of green pants. Considering the cage, I expected him to be in leather. But that is part of the joy of our relationship, he seldom does what I expect.
"The wall, slave."
I kept my head down as I walked to the wall that had been painted black. He and I had attached the dungeon style chains and cuffs using heavy-duty bolts one weekend shortly after moving into the house. Later that day he had chained me to them and used the whip that was now normally displayed next to the cuffs.
I waited for further instructions, not sure if I should face the wall or face the room. Alex is so skilled with a whip that he could use it on my chest and never get near my face. I admit being very nervous the first time he did it that way. So nervous that he had covered my head with a thick leather hood that only had air holes. My cock and balls protected by the type of belts worn in the boxing ring.
I have never been afraid since then. The next day I had spent the day naked at his order and flushed every time he caught me looking at the perfectly spaced stripes across my chest and stomach. Not a single blow had landed anywhere near my cock or face.
Since that time the only item I ever wear when he uses the whip is the cage to keep me from obtaining an erection. I don't believe this is due to any fear of injuring me on his part. It's just part of the game. A part that he can change should he ever wish to.
We actually have a total of three sets of cuffs bolted to the wall. One set hanging close together and designed to hold me upright, should I try to slouch. This set can also be tightened to make me stand on my toes. He's only done that once. He didn't like my reaction to being in that position. Alex always looks after my well being. No matter how the things we do might look to an outsider.
The other two sets are spaced to turn my body into a X. Arms spread to the limit, feet spread enough to give him access to my ass. These are the ones we use when he gets in close and personal. Some of my best memories have happened that way.
He walked over to me and I waited for my instructions.
I took a position under the center cuffs and raised my arms to be bound. He fastened them quickly and then stepped back to look at me. His hand reached out and he cupped my balls, rolling them slowly in their sac. I moaned as the gates tightened. His wicked grin making my pulse race.
"My slave forgets his place. It is up to the Master to remind his slave of that place."
"And my slave's place is definitely not in the center of a Scully Mulder sandwich. Is it, slave?"
"No, Master. My place is in your bed, only. My body to be used by you, only."
"Yes, we shall now reinforce that knowledge. It seems my slave only remembers lessons taught by way of discipline."
"This slave is sorry he is so much trouble to his Master."
"All good things come with a price, slave. A good slave is not born that way. He must be taught. A good Master understands this and embraces his responsibility to his slave."
"Thank you, Master."
"You're welcome, slave."
I watched with wide eyes as Alex opened his pants. He normally did not strip until after my 'punishment'. I'm sure I looked like an idiot as he pushed the green pants down and stepped out of them. He had been shopping. And what a lovely little item he had purchased.
He's always taken delight in dressing for me. You wouldn't think that a man who needs glasses would be so visual, but I am. He was standing there in a pair of white underwear. So what? So it was different from any underwear I had seen before.
The white material looked silky. The look almost transparent in that I could clearly make out his attributes. And the man has nice attributes. His cock and balls hanging in a most enticing display in the pouch at the front. The outline easy to see and leaving no doubt as to what the man is packing.
Had I not been chained I would have been on my knees sucking him through them. I longed to caress him through the fabric, to heft the weight of him in my palm. Watch him harden in them. Definitely not underwear for everyday wear, but for turning your lover into a sex crazed demon they were perfect.
He reached out and rubbed his fingers across my chin.
I looked up to see him smiling at me.
"Just checking for drool."
"Let's get back to the business at hand, shall we?"
I watched as he reached to take the whip down from the hooks on the wall. His hand shaking it out to lie along the floor. He uses a shorter length than a lot of people do for scenes. He does this so he is close enough to me for me to see him fairly well.
The first one that he used on me so many years ago he burned. He often traces the marks on my back and promises he will never mark me that way again. No matter how may times I tell him I was flying that night, he still hates himself for losing control for that period of time.
He walked a few steps away from me and I waited for the first kiss of my lover's whip. His wrist flexed, the tip landed on my right nipple and I hissed with pleasure. Again the subtle movement and my left nipple began to sting. For several minutes, he touched me all over my chest and belly and the tiny red marks appeared leaving a warm stinging in my body.
My cock thickened as much as it could while held in the gates. I started making the noises he loves deep in my throat. The animal I become for him exhilarates us both. When he took a step closer to me my body arched toward him. A small twitch of his lips was the only sign that he noticed.
His wrist flexed and the stripes began to appear. My mind was torn between the desire to watch each mark appear on my chest and stomach and the wish to watch him. His eyes were bright green, his cock rising in the pouch. I decided watching him was preferable.
I knew the whipping was almost over because his cock was straining the pouch trying to contain it. One last stripe was placed neatly across my collarbone, then the whip was thrown.
He turned me hurriedly, a dab of lube smeared haphazardly between my cheeks, then his thick hard cock was ramming inside me. I screamed, as our role-playing requires. It's not much effort really. Not when your lover makes you feel so dammed good.
My cock had filled the gates and parts of my flesh were bulging around each ring. He was close. I could tell by the sounds he was making. His hand moved down and he began to work the rings off me. I groaned as each one was painfully worked over the head of my cock. As soon as the last one cleared the end, he growled in my ear.
His hand held me tightly as my come painted the wall in front of us. A sharply hissed, "Yes," and he was filling my ass with his come.
We stood for a couple of long minutes until he felt the shaking of my body ease. He pulled out slowly and reached to release my wrists, then followed me to the floor when my legs gave out. His arm wrapped around me from behind and he caressed the stripe across my collarbone.
"Still with me, beloved?"
His chuckle was soft against the back of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. The kiss was even softer. I turned my head and he kissed my mouth possessively.
"Let's get you up to bed. You need a nap."
"I want to know where you got the underwear."
"Like that, do you?"
"I think you'd better order a dozen pair. I intend to eat those off you later."
"Want me to order two of each color?"
"Depends. The white shows you off really nicely. Don't know if the other colors would do that."
We had made it to the top of the stairs by that point. He led me into the bathroom and we rinsed off the sweat with a fast shower.
As he pulled the sheet up over me he smiled.
"I'll wear the black pair when I come to wake you for dinner. You can have your dessert first."
"Asshole! You already got them in other colors."
"Of course I did. I know what I look good wearing. And what will make you howl at the moon. Now sleep."
My sleep was populated with dreams of Alex, and when he came to wake me I did indeed eat a big hole in the pouch of the black pair. He didn't seem to mind.
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