TITLE: Red, Yellow, Green

NAME: frogdoggie

E-MAIL: frogdoggie@hotmail.com

CATEGORY: SRA

RATING: NC-17. SK/SC. This story contains BDSM and very explicit het sex. So, if you don’t like that type of thing - STOP NOW! Forewarned is forearmed. Proceed with caution.

SUMMARY: A different kind of Skinner/Scully relationship. Pain and pleasure...and something much more in store. Missing a part of this opus or just want to read more of my fic? Then surf here: https://www.squidge.org/3wstop or here, on my mirror site at: http://adult.dencity.com/frogdoggie

FEEDBACK - YES PLEASE, AND THANK YOU SIR, CAN I HAVE ANOTHER? Comments, suggestions and healthy debate are always welcome. Flames? They only serve to warm my body and mind.

ARCHIVE: NO! No other archives except those listed above in the summary.

TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: This season up to "Sein Und Zeit". Oblique references made to Biogenesis.

KEYWORDS: story romance bondage BDSM Skinner Scully NC-17

DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner and all other X-Files characters belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and 20th Century FOX Broadcasting. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from their use.

Completed in February and March of 2000.

Author's note: This story is my first BDSM story. It is also my last. I can't stress that enough so please don't e-mail me asking for more. Feedback is always welcome, but I wrote this story as a personal catharsis and part of that catharsis was getting up the guts to post it after several people suggested I should. However, I don't want to go here again and I hope you'll understand my wishes there and respect them. In the meantime...thanks for reading and hopefully this story will entertain as well as serve as testament to one author's road to personal enlightenment.

I'd just like to thank my marvelous beta, Susan for doing this one for me. I know it wasn't an easy story to beta. I admire her for saying she'd do it.

Red, Yellow, Green

by frogdoggie

This is how it works...how it starts. A Friday afternoon, usually. A meeting with both of them at the end of the day. A debate over expense reports or just the usual rundown over a casefile. The same, but so different since that evening I found Krycek in my car's back seat. They don't trust me anymore...and I don't blame them. And in the long-run that's what this is about...trust...the regaining of trust...the giving of trust...trust and maybe the truth and...atonement.

So they sit there...facing me. Mulder at my left hand, Scully on my right and we do the superior/subordinate tango. Funny how that works. Who would know from looking at us...who would know who is who. So, we go round and round, I growl my disagreement, castigate and stroke egos in turn, argue one minute, give in the next. Mulder states his impassioned case...insolent and respectful in turns, protests one minute, placates the next and Scully sits, calm voice of logic, so patient, so conciliatory, loyal, supportive, professional...and somehow we get through it. "You're dismissed agents." Mulder beats a hasty retreat but just before Scully reaches the door she gives him a look that says 'I'll catch up' and then she looks at me.

"Sir...may I have a moment more of your time?"

Mulder raises his eyebrows.

"Of course, Agent Scully...I have a few minutes," I reply. I incline my head, signaling her to stay.

Another look passes between them. Mulder makes his exit anyway, leaving the door open so she can flee if she feels the need. Yeah, that's right...leave her to the big bad wolf. Little does he know.

I sit back. Scully moves to my door. Shuts it. I feel my pulse elevate in anticipation. She turns, taking something out of her pocket. Folded up piece of paper. She walks to my desk and places it on my blotter.

"Be there," she states simply. I nod and so does she. Then she turns and leaves. I pick up the paper, unfold it and read where trust and truth will take me tonight.

xXx

This is how it begins...this night. I stay and work late, leaving to give myself just enough time to reach our rendezvous. I'm instructed to do so. I don't go home. I stay in my Bureau attire...the starched white shirt, power tie, and pressed designer wool...that's instructed too. At 9 o'clock I leave and drive.

The wrong part of town...for me at least. This is the dangerous element. Nothing to stop someone from recognizing me. I'll stick out like a sore thumb I think as I drive by sex club, after sex club and the leather bars with their posturing leather men outside on the sidewalk coming and going...and coming...

But that's how this works. I'm supposed to be on display. A suit amongst the rough trade we'll find down here. Easy to spot...easy to ridicule...easy to tempt. I find a parking space not too far down the block from the bar I'm supposed to enter. 'The Boiler Room'. Of course it's a gay bar...hard core leather bar...just what the doctor ordered.

I walk down the street, it's cold and colder still since I've also been instructed to leave my coat in the car. My spit and polish Allen Edmonds shoes...mail order only and also worn by Presidents...click loudly on the winter brittle sidewalk under my feet. I ignore the catcalls as I walk. I do have some...pride...some stiff necked attitude left here. So, I ignore the calls of "Hey, Daddy, bring that Armani suit over here", and "Hey, bald and beautiful...I like 'em big and bureaucratic," and "Uh huh, look at that sharp dressed man," and walk on.

I'm instructed to go in and sit at the bar...and wait for one hour. God. It's almost too much. The loud music, flashing lights, bodies packed together, sitting, standing, dancing. The smell...of sweat. Yeah...the tang of metallic male musk flowing into my nostrils. The aroma of poppers, booze, leather and...cum. The combination makes me edgy...makes me ready. I'm hit on so many times it's quite apparent that not only do these men have a leather fetish they also lust for men in dry cleaner pressed designer suits and...Christ...yeah...I can feel it pooling in my groin too. Much to my shame? Hardly. It's...the lust to be out-of-control...the rush of submissive sexual adventure. It's...whatever it is...that warm feeling of arousal is flowing...slowly flowing like a wave of glowing lava and it's brought on by sensory overload and the nimble fingers of one more come-on snaking their way up my thigh to fondle my cock and balls through my pants.

And all the while I'm telling Tom, Dick and Harry that "No thanks, I'm waiting for someone," and ordering Cokes - alcohol is strictly against instructions at least at this point - I'm thinking...how the hell is she going to get in here? In here amongst the hirsute as well as hairless, sweating, aroused examples of male domination and submission. How can I sit here another minute...hoping she will, and I glance at my watch and see it's eleven o'clock. A slow dance starts and the decibel level drops to human audio tolerance. The music is low and sultry...it sets up a subtle vibration that makes my stomach muscles flutter. I glance at my watch again and cast my eyes over the assembled multitude. She has to be here soon...she has to be...and then...she is...and I see her...and I'm sure my jaw drops open.

The crowd next to the bar parts a little and maybe it's partly their amazement at seeing a woman here, or maybe out of respect or hell, I have no idea. But, she certainly has a presence. An aura of sexual dominance. Something I've grown to know well of course over the past three months. But...maybe something I didn't truly appreciate until just this moment when she walks towards me in skin tight leather pants, a leather bustier, and black, spiked high heels. The black leather looks like a second skin and I can hear it squeak when she reaches me. Alabaster skin of her tits pushed up high and tightly laced in...the top of her breasts a pale, silken contrast to the leather. All of it offset by her flame red hair, bright red bee stung lips, perfectly arched eyebrows and electric blue eyes and the minute she steps up to my side I feel my cock start to swell in my pants.

"Finish your Coke," Scully commands. "Then we're leaving." I nod because that's the only answer she requires, the only one she wants. I reach for my drink and like a drowning man, inhale the liquid as if it were air, emptying the glass in one long, convulsive swallow.

xXx

The walk back to the car makes my balls pull up it's so cold. My dick goes limp. I'm retrieving my car to pick her up in front of the bar where she still waits inside...out of the cold. Curb side service. I'll drive her back later for her transportation. I pull up out front, get out, open the rear passenger door. Scully walks out of the bar, a study in nonchalance and full length, faux leopard skin coat and long leather gloves. And oh yes...I went to her car to get the coat and gloves for her first. She breezes past me and climbs in. She sits in the back seat and I act as chauffeur...and we drive to our next destination.

A rented warehouse loft...rented to Skinner Transport, my family's company. I'm on the board of directors. No one has bothered to ask why I rented it. We park the car by the loading dock. I get out and the minute I hit the cold air again the Cokes I consumed at the bar catch up with me and I feel like my bladder's going to burst out through my groin. I open Scully's door and she steps out, pulling her leopard skin coat around her. She stands there for a moment, surveying the territory...including me...and I can't help it...I have to squeeze my legs together. She catches me doing it and raises an eyebrow.

"Is there a problem?" she asks staring pointedly at my crotch.

"Yes," I hiss, my teeth clicking from both the cold and the spasm that races through my nether regions.

"Yes, what?" she replies, giving me an icy look that more than matches the air around us.

"Yes...ma'am," I answer quickly, bowing my head slightly.

And the game begins.

"And that would be...Walter?" she purrs.

"I have to...urinate, ma'am," I reply, lowering my eyes even further.

Silence. The seconds tick by and I'm getting desperate. I risk a look up under my eyelashes and see her tapping her lips with one black, leather-gloved finger as if trying to decide what she should do with me. If she doesn't decide soon it'll be a moot point. I'll have to consign these dress pants to the waste basket rather than take them to my dry cleaners. Finally...

"Very well. Relieve yourself...over there by the dumpster. Quickly."

Permission granted, thank God. No problem with quickly, I think as I stride over to the large brown industrial dumpster next to the warehouse wall. Public display and humiliation and complete control of my bodily functions. Part of the play...the part I play and the price I pay. And I deserve it. All of it...and before we're through...I'll beg for more.

It took three months to get into this head space...the space where I go when I want to...lose control. Where I want to stop the top dog dance I have to do 24/7 at the Hoover. The dance that ultimately got me in all the trouble I'm in now. The dance that lost me the respect and trust of two of the people I care the most about in the world. So...I sought a way to...atone and I found someone uniquely qualified and only too willing to help me pay for my sins. Someone to make me pay and...to both our surprise...make the pain of payment more than a pleasure too.

We didn't bargain on that I think. Well...I didn't bargain on a lot of things I'm discovering or admitting here...or should I say...confirming. At any rate, the fact that we'd both find ecstasy in this experience was definitely an unexpected sidelight. That the pain would bring shared pleasure, something we would have never thought possible. But it does and we do both get off on it. Perhaps ultimately that common ground will lead to mutual understanding, acceptance and renewed respect away from this place...away from our night games. So in that pursuit, we agree...we do a different dance here than the one at the Hoover...and I bottom out...and hope...hope to God she'll trust me as much afterwards as I trust her now...as we trust each other here in this space.

I pony up to the side of the dumpster...my back to Scully, unzip and fish out my dick. I compress my lips in a thin line. Man...we don't like the cold, do we, I think as I stare down at the wrinkling flesh I hold in my hand. No, my cock doesn't like it and neither does my bladder. That organ doesn't like anything about this scene. I had to piss so badly a second ago and now the combination of the cold and the...excitement...embarrassment...well, whatever...I can't squeeze out a drop. Shit...shit...shit...I start to silently swear.

Quick staccato click of black, spiked, high heels. Swish of leather and... 'crack'...Scully's long leather glove connects with both my ass cheeks with the not inconsiderable strength of her right arm. I grunt and instantly piss shoots out of my cock. I sigh in relief as it hits the dumpster's side and darkens the metallic finish.

"And what do you say when I give you a helping hand...Walter?" she asks quietly from behind me.

Without a second's hesitation and no cessation or waver in my urine stream at all, and most certainly without turning around, I answer her.

"Thank you...master."

Yes...master. No longer ma'am now that physical contact has been made. And never mistress...that has...the wrong connotations for her. No...she is my master...at least for tonight. I belong to her here. Utterly and totally and I will do her bidding...and if I don't...then I have to suffer the consequences. And suffer I will...and that's fine too.

"You're welcome," Scully replies, her voice benevolent for a moment. "Now...hurry up and let's get inside. I really don't want you to freeze," she adds, a hint of compassion in her voice as well. Sometimes...sometimes I almost feel like she might really...I let the thought drift away as I hasten to answer.

"I appreciate your concern for my well-being, master. Thank you again," I respond dutifully. I shake off and tuck myself back in.

"Very nicely said...Walter. Now...zip up and go open the door," she orders. I do as she commands, taking the key to the side door of the warehouse out of my pocket.

The loft is on the third floor. No heat on the first level, although we do have electricity. I turn on lights as we go. We can see our breath. There's an elevator and we take it up. I slam the front gate shut. Wooden slats like a jail cell door and I think...how appropriate. Caged. Like the beast I am. Like the beast I will be tonight. And we go up...and get off.

The Loft. Full of my handiwork. Converted way before now, and after I no longer felt confident working out at the South Street Gym. My private exercise room. Just a large, square open space...but it's all I need...all we'll need. Free weights, and bench, bike and rowing machine. Punching bag. Off to the side, a restored shower and toilet area partitioned off long ago when this was a real warehouse and men worked within its walls.

Plenty of room to play but our stage is stage center away from my standard equipment. A large circular area, the floor scrubbed so clean you could practically eat off it, surrounded by photographer's lights to supply adequate illumination. Light surrounding a gymnast's vaulting horse, a futon mattress on the floor, a table holding our...supplies, a sturdy wooden straight-backed chair, two large industrial lockers for additional storage, and a refrigerator. All courtesy of me...all assembled per her instructions just before we began playing this game together three months ago.

"Let there be heat and light, Walter," Scully orders and I move to the thermostat and turn it up and then to each lamp in turn, switching them on one after the other until our space is lit like an operating theater...and I think we both find that...oddly appropriate...aptly clinical, given Scully's normal venue of operation.

Heat and light in abundance and it doesn't take long and we're fairly comfortable under the glow. I turn and walk to stand in front of her, feet splayed apart, hands clasped in front of me, head bent...waiting.

"Very good. Now...I think a glass of wine...for each of us," she purrs. Hmm. That's a bit generous I think. "But first...strip," she adds. And I think...yes...that's more like it.

"Yes, master," I answer.

She stands and watches of course as I disrobe. I sneak a glance at her now and then. Her face is impassive...a mask of almost haughty disregard but...her eyes tell me a different story. They flash with an inner heat that melts their blue ice. If I desire what we do here tonight...she desires it as much as I do. She seeks what I seek. As certainly as I search for trust, and truth and absolution...so does she. God knows why she seeks. I can only speculate. She hasn't told me...and in the position I'm in now...I can't and wouldn't dare ask. Someday...I may ask her...if and when we trust each other outside these walls. But, for now...it's of no consequence. I take it for granted that she seeks and that this is a dance for two, and we're locked in it together until the last note sounds.

I place my clothing neatly in one of the lockers nearby. All of it including wallet, ID, gun and glasses. She permits me this much. She knows I do take some pride in my dress for success look. Besides...she likes things neat too. When everything is carefully stowed away and I'm stark naked before her, I resume the position, feet splayed, hands clasped in front of my groin, cock and balls neatly displayed underneath my drawn together fingers. As my eyes move to that spot on the floor ahead of me where I normally focus my attention in this position, they're drawn automatically to my crotch for a few seconds. My hairless crotch. Shaved last session...with instructions to make it a permanent practice. I feel renewed warmth in my groin over that memory and shift my gaze to the floorboards.

Scully walks around me, once, twice. Leaves me standing there and I hear her taking off her coat and gloves, hanging them both up, as I know she's done before, across from my clothing in the same locker. Then...the soft sliding sound of leather on skin. A snapping sound. I jump slightly when she slams the locker door, chiding myself afterwards. My senses are already hyped up. I can't help it. I'm breathing a little harder in anticipation too.

"Pour two glasses of wine and bring them back over here," she tells me. Her voice comes from directly in front of me.

I look up and gone are the black leather pants. Now she's wearing the bustier, a pair of black, silk, crotchless panties, a garter belt, stockings and the black spiked high heels. I swallow and I know I'm staring. Her brow creases in annoyance.

"Yes, master," I answer quickly and I leave her side.

The long stemmed wine glasses are on the top of the refrigerator and the wine is inside. The wine is a red wine. Red just like Scully's perfectly pouting lips. I pull out the bottle, uncork it and fill both glasses. I put the bottle back in the refrigerator and shut the door. Taking a glass in each hand I walk back over to where Scully stands in the middle of the circle of light. I extend one hand towards her and she frowns.

"Both," she commands, extending her hands for the glasses.

"Yes, master," I reply.

I hand her both glasses and stand back, assume the position, and wait. I can't hear her drinking the wine, it's silent in the loft, but I know she must be tipping the glass to those red lips and...the white column of her throat undulates as she swallows. I can see it in my mind's eyes as sure as I could see it if I was looking up.

"Walter?"

"Yes, master?"

"Do we need to review the rules tonight?"

"No, master," I reply, tightening my muscles to mask my annoyance at assuming again that I don't know how to play. But Scully notices, raising an eyebrow. And she should because I've been known to...test the boundaries in the past.

"Liar," she replies, with a slight chuckle. "I know you better than you think, Walter. I know you can...test me. But...I'm feeling indulgent this evening. So...I'm not going to make you recite all the rules. I just want you to tell me the significance of the colors, red, yellow and green," she replies, her voice low and melodious.

"Red, yellow and green are safe words, master. Red means stop. Yellow means slow down and Green means proceed or...go further," I reply matter-of-factly.

"Very good, Walter. And you'll remember to use them, correct?" she asks.

"Yes, master."

"Good," she replies in a whisper.

'Crash'...the wine glass hits the floor and shatters at her feet. I know better than to look up. Her foot comes down on the pieces and her toe grinds them into the loft's floorboards.

"Look up," she commands and I lift my eyes to hers. She points.

"Kneel," comes her imperious instruction. She points at the floor in front of her feet. I walk forward and obey without question.

I sink down, my knees come into contact with the pulverized glass and tiny shards tickle and then abrade my knees as I settle into place, head bowed, hands clasped again in front of me. As I feel the prick on my skin, the oozing of blood meeting the air, cool at first and then warm and moist, the slow throb of arousal begins to course through me, rising up out of my groin and suffusing my body with that special pleasure that only pain can bring me...the pleasure of punishment, the joy of submission.

"Drink," Scully says, placing the full wine glass under my nose and against my lips. I start to open my mouth. "Lap it up...like a dog," she adds, her voice soft and intense. And I do...sticking my tongue out and drawing the sweet red wine into my mouth, splashing it out and down my chin and onto the floor where it joins the shattered glass and my blood spotting the floorboards. I lap...every last drop and then Scully pulls the glass away and leaves my side.

"Stay there," she throws back over her shoulder.

"Yes, master," I reply, keeping my eyes averted as she disappears behind me.

A few moments later she returns with a towel in her hands.

"Wipe off your mouth and chin," she instructs, handing me the towel. I comply as she watches me. I hand the towel back when I'm dried off and once again she disappears from my field of view.

Click, click, click...sharp sound of high heels on wood and then a warmth at my back.

"Lift your head," Scully says.

I obey. I feel the slide of her bustier covered tits on my spine...and then the studded leather buckle dog collar falls around my neck. She buckles it, pulling it tight against my larynx...tight enough...but not too tight. She steps back.

"Stand," she commands, and I do.

I assume the position automatically. Scully walks around me. Her hand reaches out and a small click tells me the leather leash is attached to the collar. She steps back, tossing the leash forward, and the leather slaps against my chest and then hangs down against my skin. The end tickles my belly button.

"You may look at me," she advises.

"Thank you, master," I reply quietly, looking up and fixing her with a respectful gaze. I keep my eyes trained on hers. To do otherwise would be disrespectful. It would also be twice as arousing. As it is...even with just looking at her stunning face, my cock is beginning to stir between my thighs.

Her eyes drift to my swelling flesh, linger there for a moment but then fall lower to my knees. Tiny rivulets of blood run down my legs. Blood from the cuts that the shattered glass sliced into my skin.

"Does that...hurt?" she asks carefully, gesturing at my bloody knees with her chin.

"Yes, master," I answer dutifully.

"And you like that it does...correct?"

"Yes, master," I breathe out raggedly.

"Good," she nods in satisfaction. "But...I can't let you bleed all over and create a mess. You have permission to use the first aid kit," she adds magnanimously.

"Thank you, master," I reply.

"You're welcome. Now...do it...quickly," she responds and I move post haste to disinfect and place Band-Aids over the cuts on my kneecaps.

There is no issue of...contamination in these proceedings. We established long ago, thanks to Krycek's taunting information, that the nanocytes can't be passed to another once they've been introduced to a particular host's body. They are host specific and can't function or survive in another individual. So, Scully can handle my bodily fluids and...contact of a sexual nature is not a danger either as we know we're both free of STDs as well. Not a danger even where pregnancy is concerned...and that is definitely an area where neither of us goes. Besides, to have sex or not...to use a condom or not is totally up to Scully. Everything here is totally up to her including my physical comfort and well-being. So, she allows me to clean myself up. But...tending to my injuries herself implies more caring than is necessary in this game. More caring perhaps than she's willing to give in this scenario tonight.

So, I swab off and bandage up and then return to display position in front of her, looking into her eyes in expectation. Once again she focuses on my cock and I feel the anticipation build to excitement as she studies it.

"You want to fuck me, don't you...Walter?" she whispers looking up again into my face.

"Yes, master," I answer immediately. If I lie, she'll know. By this time she knows this about me anyway. How could she not, when my body responds to her as it does. I feel my cock twitch and she suppresses a small smile at the power she has over me.

"But you know who will say who fucks, or even doesn't fuck who here, and when, and where...and how, isn't that right, Walter?" she asks more forcefully.

"Yes, master," I reply quietly.

"Who?" she prompts.

"You, master."

"Exactly," she replies, a smug tone in her voice. "And just to make sure you really know who's calling the shots...I think we'll take care of this little public display of desire. Spread your legs further and stand at attention, head down again," she orders and I obey, resisting the urge to cover my genitals as my hands fall in place above them and over the end of the leash where it touches my belly button. She leaves my side again and I know she's headed back over to the table that holds our supplies.

I focus my energy on tamping down my arousal. It doesn't pay to get too hot too fast during these proceedings. It's ultimately more painful and punishing to prolong the inevitable as long as possible...and more pleasurable. And I still don't know what the pay-off will be...or when it will...come, or where or how, and that's a fulfilling of the punishment as well. And we're back to trust...I have to trust my master to see to all my needs...physical and psychological...and she must trust that I'll give her dominance over me completely without protest.

In a moment, Scully's back, standing before me, a length of thin, black rope in her hands.

"Look up," she prompts and my head snaps up. I can't help it...I focus on her small, slim hands where they hold the rope, toying with it. "Eyes on mine," she snaps and I flick my eyes up to meet hers again.

"You're appreciative that my father was in the Navy aren't you, Walter?" she smiles wryly as she steps closer.

"Yes, master," I reply, bending my head to maintain eye contact.

"Why?" she asks stepping up. I can feel her heat all along the front of my body. My muscles strain forward within their covering of flesh. Straining to touch her even though it's forbidden unless she commands it.

"Because he taught you how to tie many useful knots," I reply, watching her face carefully. She smiles at me indulgently.

"Correct. Very good. Now...don't move," she insists and I ready myself for the touch of her hands.

One deft loop in back of my balls comes first. A second and my right testicle is circled round at the base. A third deft loop and my left testicle is bound as well. A pull and they separate. The rope snakes up and...loop after loop circles round and down and then loop after loop all the way back to the base and...my cock's trussed up tight as well. A Boson's knot finishes the job. The pressure on the erection that was forming is exquisite torture and I suck in my breath as Scully cups my genitals. She examines her handiwork for a few seconds and then drops my roped up cock and ball bundle back onto my thighs, the trailing bit of unused rope hanging down between my legs.

"Much better," she smiles up at me.

"Yes, master," I reply, gritting my teeth a little. She chuckles and gives the rope leash a tug.

"Would you like me to lead you around by your cock, Walter?" she asks, toying with the rope.

"Yes, master," I reply watching her hand.

"Then I won't," she spits out, dropping the rope and grabbing the leather leash attached to the dog collar. She gives the leash a vicious yank forward. "Walk with me," she commands and I do. The constriction between my legs becomes even more...interesting as I follow Scully across the circle of light to the vaulting horse. Just before we reach the vaulting horse's side she stops and so do I. She drops the leash against my chest hard so that it slaps my skin.

"Kneel. Eyes on the floor," she orders and I go down on my knees instantly. The cuts under the Band-aids ooze fresh blood as I hit the floorboards. I pin the floor with my eyes and she leaves my side. My cock throbs with the tension of skin engorging against rope and I breathe in and out steadily as my arousal starts to ratchet up another notch. 'Not yet, not yet, not yet' I start to chant in a mantra of control and denial in my mind. But...almost...almost time and in a moment she returns to my side, two lengths of sturdier plain white rope in her hands.

"Stand," she commands. I hesitate and then struggle a bit to get up...the combination of arousal brought on by stricture between my legs and the stiffness of the bandaged cuts on my knees almost making my legs shake and it's not fast enough for her. "QUICKLY!" she shouts and then she slaps me across the face with one of the rope lengths. Not a hard blow...my insubordination hasn't been bad enough to warrant full force. But it does sting. I feel my cock jump.

"Yes, master," I grate, struggling still to stand up to my full height. Finally I do and then I assume the position, head bowed.

"When I command you I expect to be obeyed instantly. Do you understand me?" she adds, slapping the rope against her thigh.

"Yes, master," I reply, chastened.

"You know we only have about 20 minutes here, Walter...unless you want your cock to explode through the ropes. Now, get your tight ass over to that vaulting horse and bend over it," she commands.

"Yes, master," I reply and then I wince. I know that came out wrong.

"Are you trying to be...clever, Walter? Trying to test me?" she whispers, slapping the rope against her thigh again.

"Master?" I ask, going along with the game. My breathing is picking up and when I glance down I can see the redness of my cockskin peeking out at me through the ropes.

"Don't fuck with me, Walter. Do you mean you know we only have 20 minutes or do you mean yes, you want your cock to drop off? Because if you do...I know a quicker way," she hisses. "Answer in full...no 'yes, master' bullshit this time."

"No, master...I don't want my cock to drop off. I was referring to the fact that I know we only have about 20 minutes," I reply, rushing through the words. I know she's right too. Oh I've gone a little longer than that but...it's not the best idea.

"THEN GET YOUR ASS OVER TO THE VAULTING HORSE!" she yells at me.

"Yes, master," I reply.

I cross the distance in fast strides and lean over the horse, stretching my arms out in either direction on it. My ass is presented to her and she steps up and grabs my right arm, shoving it closer to the pommel on that side.

"Very good...I see you remembered the correct position."

"Thank you, master," I reply as she wraps my wrist round with the rope and then ties my arm to the right pommel. She walks over to the left pommel and repeats the procedure. She steps back. I feel her caress the back of my head and give it a push down so that my head is flush with the leather of the vaulting horse. Then she runs her hand possessively down my back and then onto my ass. I grit my teeth again as her fingers stroke between my ass cheeks and she rubs along my perineum. I suck in my breath when she cups my balls.

"You make a fantastic picture, Walter," she purrs.

"Thank you, master," I answer somewhat breathlessly.

"And you're all mine," she adds, the smile clear in her voice.

"Yes, master," I confirm.

"Now...you know why we're here tonight, don't you?"

"Yes, master," I reply quietly. I breathe as steadily as I can but it's stentorian now as I start to go with my arousal. Some drool dribbles out of my mouth and onto the leather of the vaulting horse as Scully speaks again.

"Why?" she whispers.

I feel my stomach tighten with anticipation and desire and dread too...the dread of having to admit what I know at least to be my truth.

"To service your pleasure, master. My pain for your pleasure...and if you allow it...my pleasure as well."

"Very good, Walter. And you know you need to be taught a lesson, correct? You need to atone for your mistakes as well?" she adds, her voice filled with warning for me not to lie or let embarrassment sway my answer.

"Yes, master. I need to pay for my mistakes," I reply immediately.

"Two for two, Walter. I'm pleased with you. So...I'll make sure that tonight's lesson is a good one. Now...get ready," she replies, her voice another sultry warning.

"Yes, master," I reply as she leaves me again.

Her quick staccato heels tell me she's headed back over to the equipment table. I grab the pommels with both hands. I shift my feet so that they're planted a little farther apart and then I brace myself. In a moment Scully is back. 'Twack!' Something slaps down next to my hand where I hold onto the pommel. The rattan cane. I feel sweat start to break out on my brow and my entire crotch floods with heat...making me bite my tongue to keep from moaning. I know my muscles are twitching slightly.

"I see you're more than ready," she chuckles. Moving back.

"Yes, master," I manage to croak out.

"All right then. Ten the hard way. It will please me to hear your appreciation, Walter. So...after each lash of the cane I want you to beg for more...I want you to say, "Thank you, master, may I have another," and I want to hear you say it...loudly. Do you understand?"

"Yes, master," I nod.

Then she bends down close to my ear and murmurs into it.

"But don't come. If you come...I'll bust your balls with this cane. If you're close I expect to know about it. Say 'Red' and we'll stop. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, master," I rasp out.

"All right. Ten then...hard and fast," she nods.

She backs off. I lose track of the number of steps she takes as she paces off behind my ass. For a fleeting moment the thought 'How can she run in those heels?' crosses my mind and then I hear her start up slowly...one step...two steps...building up...to rapid clicks of black spiked high heels and I know...she's running. She's rushing towards me fast, arm going up and back, momentum and muscles making the cane swing...arm arcing and I can just hear the swish as the air moves...and I try to relax my muscles and....'THWACK!' the rattan hits my ass like a bolt of lightning. It burns like fire and I jerk in my bonds.

Scully yells "ONE!" and the heat and sharp, stabbing pain are immediate and oh Christ...it's so fucking good. She hit the bull's-eye all right...that sweet spot that makes the shock of the rattan rod roll like a wave from my butt right through my body to my constricted dick and balls. It's like an earthquake conducted through my bones and I shake as I rock forward into the vaulting horse. My knees slap leather and she's already headed back to the top of her firing line. My breath explodes from my chest and I meet her demands to yell with no problem and hardly any conscious thought.

"THANK YOU, MASTER, MAY I HAVE ANOTHER!"

My answer is rapidly running feet and another lick of her talented cane. Then a second. Then a third. Then a fourth. I'm slammed up against the vaulting horse harder with each application of the rod. I yell out dutifully with each lash and Scully is silent except for the sound of her breath picking up and her heels clacking on the floorboards. She strides quickly to the top of the key and then runs back down, her momentum making each swat of the cane a searing stripe across my skin. Each whip sends a jolt of incredible pleasure into my cock and balls. I feel blood welling up where I know she's marking me.

By the fifth lash I'm grunting and holding onto the pommels hard, my skin slick with perspiration. I'm breathing like a locomotive, harsh gasps of air moving in and out of my laboring lungs. I can feel the wet ooze of blood trickling over my skin from more stripes Scully has opened up on my backside. I'm starting to go into the zone now...the zone where I can't differentiate the pain from pleasure and where I almost feel like I'm not in my body anymore. I thrash back and forth, like a pendulum in time with each swat of the cane. My bound genitals swing, sending hot stabs of painful ecstasy all over my body. I barely hear the count, but I do just enough to keep bawling the litany 'Thank you, master, may I have another,' over, and over and...I know I can go the distance...I know...I know I can...I know I can...

"TEN!" Scully yells.

I slump forward onto the leather below me, my hands limp as I release the pommels. I hang in my bindings. Scully walks forward quickly and I feel her reach between my legs. A few quick maneuvers and the black rope that binds my cock and balls falls free. I can't help it...I bellow as the blood rushes into my straining dick.

"GGGGODDDAAMN!"

Scully is at both my hands, one after the other in rapid succession and my hands are free. She steps back, the cane tucked under her arm.

"Kneel!" she commands. I can barely move. She yanks me backwards by the collar, pulling me...and I just manage to get my legs under me so I can go down on my knees next to the vaulting horse. "Don't move. Eyes on the floor," she barks out.

"Yes, master," I manage to gasp.

No danger there. I'm so high on the endorphin rush my head's reeling. I train my eyes on the floor and try to get the room to stop spinning. She takes the cane and leaves my side. My chest heaves up and down and I can't help but glance at my cock. My erection's enormous. The head purple and some pre-cum is glistening on the tip. I lick my lips. God...I'm surprised I lasted at all. My ass feels hot and raw...like chopped meat on a grill. The meat between my legs feels hot and raw too...and the combination of sensations in both areas is making me half crazy with arousal.

I train my eyes on the floor again. I hear her footsteps recede to the bathroom. A few moments later she returns and I feel the cool touch of a damp towel over my ass cheeks. She swabs at the blood. Even the water doesn't really cool me down I observe as she tends to me. It's unusual that she does this now, but I know it's partly practical. The blood will make the floor more slick if it drips down and one of us might slip so it should be cleaned up. Besides, there's no real tenderness in this act. Her movements are crisp and business-like and over almost as quickly as they started. She's gone then and once more I kneel and wait while she bustles around behind me.

I can hear Scully moving around near the chair that sits in our circle. The heavy, straight-backed chair that's bolted to the floor to make it sturdy and tip proof for the games we play here. She's over there for quite a bit of time. I work to control my breathing and I'm calmer as she finally returns. I hear her stop and study my ass for a few seconds. Then she comes to stand in front of me again. I can hear her breath coming in short pants as well.

"Look at me," she commands, and I do and I see in her eyes that her gasping is not all from running up and down with the cane. "Do you need to stop?" she asks curtly.

"No, master," I answer, swallowing down the arousal.

"All right," she nods. She drops her eyes to my cock and they linger there for a moment. She licks her lips just slightly and then looks back into my face.

"Are you clean, Walter?" she asks.

"Master?" I ask, my brow furrowing in temporary confusion.

"Are you empty?" she clarifies, glancing down to my groin and then back up into my face and I think...she knows I took a piss...and I realize what she means then. I feel my face tighten.

"Yes, master," I mumble.

"What? I can't hear you," she prompts, annoyance in her tone.

"Yes, master," I reply more loudly, dropping my eyes.

"Damn it...look at me when I talk to you. Tell me where you emptied out," she commands. My head snaps up.

"In the bathroom in the bar," I rap out.

"I hope so," she snaps, reaching for the neck leash. "Stand up," she orders, yanking and I rise up again, my leg muscles tingling and trembling slightly with the loss of circulation from kneeling and the shooting pains that emanate from my reddened ass cheeks and cut knees. "Turn," she adds and I follow her lead as she turns me around.

The chair is only across the circle and I can see it clearly. I can see the 9 inch 'realistic' cock shaped dildo, a suction cup on its base, where it's stuck to the chair seat. It glistens, encased in a condom, the condom slick with lube. I take a long breath in and then let it out as Scully pulls on the leash. "Walk with me," she commands and I do as she leads me towards the seat across the circle.

She leads me over and then stops in front of the chair, dropping the leash. She removes the leash and tosses it aside. She steps off to the side so my line of sight is unobstructed. My eyes focus on the dildo. She notices and smiles at me.

"Have you ever been fucked up the ass, Walter?" she purrs.

"Yes, master," I reply, capturing her eyes.

"By who?" she asks quietly.

"By you, master," I answer immediately. Oh yes...I've been her 'bendover boyfriend' on more than one occasion now...and I'm more than ready, willing and able to go for the ride again.

"Yes...by me," she replies smugly, arching an eyebrow. "But tonight you'll fuck yourself and love it, right?" she adds, moving in front of me again.

"Yes, master," I reply and she chuckles and I hardly hear her. I can't think about much else right now but my asshole, my cock and her cunt. I feel the exquisite spasms in my ass as I imagine that 9 inch dildo sinking into me. My cock points directly at Scully's stomach. It's like she's a fucking magnet and my cock's a bar of metal being drawn to her. I can barely resist the urge to grab her and impale her on it. Ram my cock right up her warm, wet cunt. I can see the glistening of her arousal through the open crotch of the black, silk panties she wears and I want to feel those juices and that heat all over my throbbing dick.

She continues to stand and study me for a moment. I stare down into her face. Both of us are breathing hard and I watch the top of her tits in the bustier, rise and fall, rise and fall almost like white waves cresting the shore. I quickly look back into her face and see her pupils dilate and I know...I know we're going to cross a boundary here that we haven't crossed before tonight. My heart starts to thud in my chest and I feel blood rush to my head and it's...pure joy because I know this marks another step towards the goal I seek. Redemption...and maybe more. And I revel in it.

"Sit down, Walter," she commands, and then she steps out of the way and points at the chair.

"Yes, master," I reply instantly.

I walk over slowly however...my cock, knees and ass stiff and aching in three different ways, and I can feel Scully's eyes on me as I turn around, my ass pointing on target.

"You have my permission to take all the time you need, Walter," she advises, quite generously. I nod.

"Thank you, master," I breathe out steadily.

She nods and watches as I back up over the dildo and reach around and down to steady it with my hand. My other hand grips the chair seat. I place the dildo's head against my anus and work the head in a fraction. I take a deep breath, relax as much as I can and push down with my thighs and ass. I hiss as the cock's head breaches the opening. And oh God...the stripes on my ass skin start to stretch as well. I bite off the moan that threatens to break from my lips.

"You have permission to...vocalize as well. It would please me," Scully instructs noticing my attempt to squelch my response.

"Thank you...master," I grate out as I push down. "Uh," I grunt hard as I feel the burning pressure that tells me I'm coming up against my sphincter. I start to pant rapidly from the combined assault of the dildo going in, the burn of my cane striped ass, and the rush of my erection flagging a bit on penetration but then coming back with a vengeance as I push down.

"Tell me what it feels like," she hisses, stepping closer.

"It...feels...like...someone's...shoving a hot poker up my ahhhhhhhssss," I groan as I attempt to shove past the tight ring of muscles. "Like every inch of my ass is on fire," I croak out.

"And you love it, don't you?" she whispers intensely.

"Jesus Christ, yes, master," I gasp out.

"Good," she murmurs and I push down harder.

Finally I feel the internal pop that tells me I'm past the muscle and I let out a long groan of pleasure as the dildo slides in further, making the rectal muscles spasm just the way I knew it would. "Oh God," I whisper as I seat myself flush with the wooden chair seat. My sensitive caned flesh stings and it's damp underneath me from blood as well as sweat. The fake balls underneath the cock dildo massage my perineum and I tilt my head back and take several quick breaths to try to gain some modicum of control. I shut my eyes and try to draw my senses away from the sensations coursing through me just long enough...please...just long enough. In a moment I have enough control and I tilt my head back down, spread my thighs a little wider and I find I can rest my back against the seat back and I do, bringing my eyes over to Scully.

"Sit still," she admonishes me and then she leaves my side.

My internal muscles flex around the dildo and a small hiss escapes my lips. I sit there, my hands limp at my sides, and begin to feel the double arousal from my ass and my cock slowly erode what little control I have left. My thoughts are becoming disjoined and just focused on the hot pleasure I'm getting from the pain. Slowly, very slowly the barriers I've erected around my heart and soul are beginning to crumble. I want them to fall...I want Scully to see me as I really am...to see me and understand and...I fervently hope she will.

I watch her go over to the table full of toys. Her back's to me so I can't see what she's selecting and to be honest...I'm beyond caring. I only have one thing on my mind now...I want to let her do whatever she wants with me. Take her pleasure as she likes, so she'll see my devotion...my desire to please...to gain her respect and trust and...I'll try to hold off until she gives me permission to come, and...I want to hold off as long as she likes and...my wandering thoughts are drawn back to Scully as she turns and walks back over to the chair again. Her hands are behind her back.

"Sit up straight and look me in the eyes," she orders and I square my shoulders and do as I'm told.

Her eyes are like two blue, bottomless pools. Her face is a mask of desire by this point...she's as lost in this as I am now. I watch her face as she moves close and straddles my knees. Her hands come around from behind her back and move forward to my chest and I feel the clips as she fastens one to my right nipple and another to my left. Simple nipple clamps made out of clothespins and they pinch really tight. I gasp and she steps back to admire the effect.

"Beautiful," she breathes out.

"Thank you, master," I pant, struggling to maintain eye contact. I want to shut my eyes, and just let the sensory overload send me over the top...grab my cock and take care of business myself here but I know that's the wrong thing to do.

Scully's breathing matches mine and then she steps close again.

"You agree that you're here to service me...correct?" she asks quietly.

"Yes, master," I spit out.

"That you're here for my pleasure first and foremost?" she asks, straddling right over my lap. My cock tips up and rests on her groin.

"Yes, master."

"That you won't seek release until I tell you?" she replies, flicking the clothespin on my right nipple. The nipple is starting to numb up but nonetheless a bolt of electric excitement courses down to my cock.

"God...yes...master," I moan, my tone pleading for her to let me come. She chuckles.

"I'll make you beg for it a hell of a lot harder," she advises. "Now..." she begins, shoving on my biceps. "Put your hands behind you...grip the chair back and don't let go," she commands. I stretch my hands behind as instructed and get a tight hold on the rungs of the chair. "You have permission to beg all you want, Walter. I really like to hear you beg," she adds.

"Yes, master," I reply, shifting in the slick blood that's dampening the chair below my butt cheeks.

"Sit...very still now...and don't take your eyes off mine," she whispers and I look up and capture her eyes without hesitation. I feel her take my cock in hand as she shifts up onto her toes over it. I grit my teeth as I feel the head come into contact with her outer folds. She uses her other hand to part them and then my cock's in contact with her vulva. My grip on the chair tightens until I know my knuckles are white. Scully's left hand comes up and rests on my shoulder as she pushes slightly, allowing my cock to breach her body.

"Uhhh," I groan as she lowers herself slowly. Christ...how the hell is she taking me in this far, I think as she slides. I stare in amazement as she does take me all the way to my nuts. She comes to rest in my lap. Her breath is rapid now and her eyes are somewhat unfocused. Sweat's beading on her upper lip. Our mingled sweat soaks our crotches as she positions herself comfortably against me. Then she swallows hard and focuses on me again. Her eyes are like two stove pilot lights...glowing blue hot, as she speaks.

"I'm going to fuck myself on your cock now, Walter. I want you to just sit there and let me do it until I tell you to do otherwise. You're no better than that dildo that's rammed up your ass as far as I'm concerned. Do you understand me?" she hisses.

"Yes, master," I whisper. My cock twitches inside her as her muscles spasm a little and I moan.

"Good," she replies. "Then I want you to beg me to fuck myself on your cock. Beg me and make me believe you really mean it, Walter," she adds curtly.

"Yes, master. I beg you...please fuck yourself on my cock. I desire nothing more than to be your slave and let you take your pleasure as you see fit. Fuck yourself as long as you like, as hard as you like, and only allow me to come when it suits your pleasure as well," I babble...completely willing now to abase myself as well as fully bend to her will.

"Excellent, Walter," she replies and then she raises up and plunges down.

"OH FUCK!" I cry out, my hips arching up and thrusting against her of their own volition. I grab the rungs even harder as she pumps her cunt up, and then down on my erection. On the downward thrust she pushes my ass flat. She stops immediately, coming to rest in my lap. My head rocks back when she slaps me hard across the face.

"I told you to sit still!" she barks at me.

"Yes, master," I groan, my face stinging. I grip the chair as best I can with my hands and my sweat and blood slick ass and thighs. Scully pulls up and plunges down and I manage to remain seated still as she repeats the motion again, and again and again.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck," I repeat like a mantra as she slides herself up and down my cock. Oh God...she's fucking beautiful too...her sweating skin glows...so white in contrast with the black leather bustier and black silk panties as she moves. Her red hair looks like flame under the lights as well and it flies around her head as she twists and turns on my hard-on. She changes the angle and then a moan escapes her throat. Long, and low, and full of pleasure. I moan in response and she reaches down and begins to rub her clit with a fast circular motion.

I watch her working herself and I sense the last bit of control I have vaporize in the heat of my desire for her. Something bursts inside me...deep down...and I sob with the heightened feelings that wash over me...emotions that have long been kept secret...buried and which now, in the haze of sexual heat and my headlong rush to seek redemption from the wrongs I've done this woman...the wrongs I've done so many...are coming out at last. I groan and focus on Scully and let myself get lost in her even more.

Her head's thrown back, spine slightly arched as her ass bounces against my lap. One hand still rests on my shoulder and all I can do is watch, sit as still as I can, grit my teeth and endure so she can take her pleasure. I want to please her...to let her ride as long as she wants...to stay hard and not come because pleasing her has become the only thought in my mind now. Pleasing her because...yes and this is the hidden secret...the knowledge I can admit now...confirm...because...God help me...I love her...even if she doesn't love me, and I could never tell her how I felt, and it's killing me that I've lost her trust, her respect and...if she'll just forgive me...

"Oh God...please," I find myself begging aloud and it's for God to deliver me from the hell of mistrust and unrequited love and...

Scully tilts her head forward again then and fixes me with eyes hooded with arousal. Our eyes lock as she sinks down and stops dead in my lap.

"Oh Christ," I gasp, staring into her face. She studies me for a moment, her eyes sweep my face as she makes long slow, circles on her clit. Deep in her eyes, something shifts, moves...like warm honey. I suck in my breath...and...oh please...let her...let me...

"You can touch me," she whispers. "Take my hips," she murmurs. And my breath comes out in a rush.

"Yes, master," I pant. I can barely move my hands off the chair rungs but somehow I do and I grasp her hips firmly.

"Fuck me, Walter. Fuck me hard," she purrs.

"Yes, mmaster," I stutter.

I lift her up and then plunge her back down on my cock. She balances and meets my arching hips, her toned, finely muscled thighs slapping against mine. She bites her lip as our crotches meet. We establish an immediate rhythm and it's suddenly a true dance for two as we piston against each other. I can feel the tremendous pressure of the dildo up my ass now as I rise up to meet her thrusts and I'm gone, pumping and stabbing my hips fast, pulling up on Scully and ramming her back down on me in perfect counterpoint to her plunging hips.

Scully continues to tug at her clit and finally on a last down thrust she ends up sitting on my balls, her inner muscles clenching tight around my cock like a vice. She cries out...arching back and I support her as her whole body stiffens in my hands.

"Ohhhhhh!" she moans, her voice rising in pitch until it's almost a whine. She jerks in my lap, rubbing herself furiously for a few seconds and then gradually her muscles relax and she straightens and looks at me, sweating and flushed from her orgasm.

I stare back and beg with my eyes. Please...let me come...and so much more. I can't hold back the emotions as they course across my face. All my shields have been lowered now and besides I want her to see...for better or worse...I want her to know. I'm paying and I've been paying since the day she walked into my office at the Hoover. Paying with my soul because I love her, I couldn't say a thing and I betrayed her...and part of me died. Part of me died but it's struggling to be resurrected and now it's up to her to decide if my payment is enough. She reaches forward and rests her hand over my heart for a moment. It beats in my chest like a jackhammer. She captures my eyes again.

"Please," I whisper.

"Yes...come for me, Walter," she replies, her voice like the soft caress of silk on skin.

"Thank you, master," I groan. I renew my grip on her hips and start thrusting like hell.

"I want to hear you enjoy it," she prompts, resting her hands on my shoulders again.

"Yes...mumasuhhhh," I moan, driving up into her in long, deep pumps. My ass spasms around the dildo and I moan again. Scully meets my thrusting hips with a counterpoint rhythm and I realize she's tightening her inner muscles to help me get off.

"Oh yeah...fuck...so...fucking tight...good...good...fucking...uhhhhh," I babble not even knowing what I'm saying and not caring as we slap together. Oh Christ...I...I'm almost there...I can feel my balls...tightening...but it's so hard in this position to get just the right amount of friction where I need it...oh shit...come on...I can't quite angle so the dildo hits my prostate either and oh fuck...fuck...come on...come on...almost...almost...Jesus...almost...this is fucking going to fucking kill me...come on...come...

Scully moves her hands on the next down thrust and pulls the clothespins off my nipples. Blood rushes back into them, the pain is mind-blowing, and I thrash hard against the chair back and howl like a castrated dog.

"FUCKING BBBBBBITCHUHHHHH!" I roar as the clothespins hit the floor with a clatter.

And my whole world explodes up my ass, out my cock and I'm blind...fuck blind...as wave, after wave of white, hot ecstasy rockets through me and I'm coming...spurting and jerking spastically. I can feel my semen filling Scully up and dribbling out onto my thighs as she continues to go along for the orgasmic ride.

"YOU BASTARD...OH GOD, YES!" she wails in reply, coming again with a terrific inner spasm around my dick that makes me smash my spine into the chair back once more. We rock and convulse together for a few more moments and then I collapse back and she falls forward onto my chest, limp and gasping.

Silence except for our heavy breathing duet. I cradle her, running my hands around to the small of her back, not daring to move any further. Our chests labor up and down as we both struggle to catch our breath. Finally, slowly, she straightens up, drawing back away from my damp chest hair and we look into each other's faces and I know...I know we see.

"Scully..." I whisper almost inaudibly. My leg muscles are trembling.

I can feel her legs trembling too. After a second or two more, her eyes slide away from mine. She pulls up and off my wilting erection. The movement is ungraceful for a moment and then she swings free of my lap, steps away carefully on her heels and turns around. My dick falls back onto my balls, slick with our combined juices.

"Get up," she tosses back over her shoulder as she walks away. "Clean up," she adds quietly.

The 'yes, master,' response freezes on my tongue and she doesn't even acknowledge the omission as she walks across the circle towards the bathroom. Damn it. My legs are as limp as my dick is now. I grit my teeth and will my legs to move, grabbing under my ass to grip the base of the dildo. I catch round it with my fist, holding the condom as well and shift forward with a grimace. Christ...getting up is not as easy as sitting down. The pain in my cane striped ass is what's really hurting now. The discomfort from the dildo is inconsequential compared with my raw butt. Finally I just heave up and forward and the dildo cock pops free of my body. I almost fall on my face but manage to catch my hand on the edge of the chair and boost myself upright. God.

I look quickly over to locate Scully, but she's gone. I hear the sudden sound of running water and know she's showering in one of the stalls. I walk stiffly forward, grab a towel for myself and head to the showers, my ass throbbing.

I take a shower stall alone and leave her to her own washing up. I know she needs privacy to process where we went tonight. Privacy I hope to come to the decision I wish for so much. The hint of which I saw in her eyes if I wasn't deluding myself. I turn on the water and make it hot...sticking my face in the spray. I let my mind concentrate on the heat and steam hitting my skin.

There's soap here as there is in all the stalls...set up ahead of time of course. I take up the bar and my hands move it over my body lathering and massaging my pectorals, down my chest onto my stomach, groin and then into my crotch. I lift my genitals and soap them thoroughly, washing off all evidence of Scully and my coupling. My cock feels a little sore and there's a dull ache in my balls from the hard ride we had but it doesn't matter. I'm exhausted but profoundly satisfied sexually. I save my sore ass for last and wash it gingerly. I touch it and glance back to look, having avoided it until now. It's not quite as bad as I thought. I sigh and finish with my gentle lathering. As I wash I feel cleansed...new...reborn. I finally place the soap back and let the water pour over my body, sluicing off my transgressions along with the bloody, soapy water...all of it onto the tile floor and down the drain. I rub my hands one last time over my fringe of hair and then my face, turn off the shower and exit the stall. I'm just thinking about drying off and then putting some of that analgesic antibacterial salve on my ass, and then I stop dead in my tracks a few paces away from the shower stall.

Scully stands there before me, her back to me, drying her hair with a towel. The other towel I know she'll wrap around her body lies on the nearby bench. I stand for a moment in hesitation and then I can't help myself...I walk quietly forward towards her.

I come up behind her as she's finishing drying her hair. She raises her arm and as she lifts the towel up to wipe her armpit I catch it with my hand. She freezes and we stand in tableau as she looks over her shoulder and up into my face. For one short moment her eyes show me what I knew I saw and what I so wanted more than anything to see there. It was no delusion. It was true. I feel my chest fill with emotion.

"Let me," I murmur and for a split-second I think she's not going to release the towel and then she does. She turns her head back around and stands very still as I take her arm in my hand and swab it down. I repeat the process with the other arm and she remains still. I reach forward and touch her naked back and she stiffens under my hand.

"Please...master," I whisper and I knew before I said it that those were the right words. There was just enough distance implied by them to allow me to touch her this way. She relaxes again and I start to dry her back.

I wipe down her back, ass, hips and fine, toned legs and then stand back up and walk around her. Her eyes remain closed as I wipe down the front of her body, with tenderness and reverence, my hands gently swabbing at her breasts, stomach, groin, pubis and ever so gently between her legs and then down her legs again as well.

Finally, my task done, I kneel in front of her, my head bent, eyes on her feet and towel extended out in my hands.

"Thank you, master, for allowing me to tend to you," I whisper.

She takes the towel and I lower my arms, folding my hands in front of my groin in the accepted position. Then I feel the towel again as she gently wipes some water from my scalp. Her slow, lingering touch is a caress and then she pulls back and speaks.

"You never told me you loved me," she whispers.

"To my everlasting shame," I murmur, keeping my eyes on the floor.

"I know you want my love," she replies quietly. "I know you want my trust and respect as well as my forgiveness," she adds.

"Yes, master," I reply, hope in my voice. I hold my breath and wait for her answer.

"If you'd told me you loved me..." she lets her voice trail off and sighs. I won't look up...I can't look up because I can hear the master's role she's been acting so well dissolve. She exhales and when she speaks again she's Dana Scully and she speaks from her heart.

"If you'd even given me a clue I might have had the courage to tell you I loved you too," she whispers.

"I'm so sorry..." I mumble, letting my voice fade as well, leaving off the word 'master' in acknowledgment that she's no longer in that head space and I'm no longer her slave. I'm just a man...and she understands me for the imperfect one I am...the imperfect one that loves her very much.

"So am I," she replies softly.

I exhale and raise my head. I capture her eyes, all that I feel for her written there plain to see. She meets my eyes with equal candor and knowledge in hers. Self knowledge and understanding of me as well and we both acknowledge the pact that lies between us now with a small nod of our heads. Her face is serious, almost a little pensive.

"Game's over for tonight?" I ask her carefully.

And then she smiles. A small, wry, knowing smile of shared pleasure.

"For tonight," she says.

And I smile too.

-THE END-