Punishment Night
by Brown Eyed Girl
Friday, AM
Mulder stood at what passed for attention, willing himself not to smart off anymore, trying desperately to sneak a peek at Scully to anchor himself without moving his body even a fraction of an inch. When his superior was in the middle of a tirade like this one, the very best thing to do was just stand still and let the waves crash over you.
"Of all the IRRESPONSIBLE...not to mention DANGEROUS... and then, to compound your extreme error in judgment by dragging your PARTNER-your recently recovered partner, I might add!!...through all of this WITHOUT any regard for procedure, not to mention the fact that your actions DIRECTLY CONTRADICTED my orders....."
Mulder bit his lip. Skinner was really on a roll. Of course, mouthing off to the older man had only made things worse, but he'd never been able to resist a snappy comeback.
Once the spluttering began to wear down, Mulder allowed himself to ease slightly. He was over the worst of it, and was still standing-and still employed. When the older man began shaking his head in disgust and disbelief, Mulder sighed inwardly in relief, knowing that those actions signaled that the end of the dressing-down was near. He had survived-at least so far.
Skinner muttered a few more angry words, and then grabbed the pen on his desk and scrawled his name at the bottom of their report. He thrust it at Mulder as though the very paper was contaminated.
"This isn't the end of this, agents, but I'm going to let OPC deal with it Monday if they choose to. Dismissed."
Mulder and Scully stared at him for a minute, not quite believing their luck. That was it? Just a vague threat of an internal investigation? They exchanged a look and then turned and scurried from the room without a backward look. Once in the hallway, they both let out a huge sigh.
Scully turned to her partner, shaking her head. "I'm glad that's over. I don't know how you do it, and I don't think I want to know, but that was close, Mulder. You owe me big time for this one."
"I know, Scully -I know. I'll make it up to you."
Scully gave a distinctly un-ladylike snort. "Somehow I doubt that, but I appreciate the sentiment. Right now, I'm going to hit the ladies room and try to fix my face. I'm sure whatever makeup I have left is dripping down my cheeks by now." Shaking her head once more at her partner, she ducked into the rest room.
Mulder waited for her, but moved down the hall a bit, feeling a little ridiculous standing outside the woman's restroom. As he waited, he glanced at the report in his hand. He suddenly became aware of a smaller piece of paper tucked at the bottom of the stack of papers. He shifted the report to his other hand and stared down at the small square of note paper. The message was very short, but it was enough to cause his stomach to plummet to the soles of his dress shoes. In dark pencil, the very strokes angry, were two words:
PUNISHMENT NIGHT
He paled, and felt the sweat that had finally begun to dry start trickling down his back once again. When had the AD managed to slip this in?
No, this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
When Scully came out a moment later, she gave him an odd look. "Are you all right, Mulder?"
"Sure, Scully," he replied nervously. "Just a delayed reaction, I guess." He gave her a grin which did nothing to alleviate her suspicions and said nothing more, steering her to their basement office. He seemed distracted for the remainder of the afternoon, but she could get nothing more from him and finally gave up.
At 5:30, she turned off her computer and looked over at him. "I'm heading home now, Mulder. Sure you don't want to come over for a pizza or something?"
He gave her a weak grin. "Thanks Scully, but I think I'll just hang out tonight. We've had a busy few days."
She frowned at his dejected tone, and tried to offer some comfort. "I'm sure OPC will just do what they always do, Mulder. They'll yell and scream, and probably deny our overtime claims, but that will be all."
"I'm sure you're right, Scully," he said with false brightness.
Unable to determine the cause of her partner's funk, she grabbed her coat and gave him a smile. "Why don't you rent something G rated from the video store tonight, for a change? Something mindless, like 'Young Frankenstein' or 'Blazing Saddles'. Have a few laughs," she suggested.
"It's Frank-un-steen, Scully," he played along, but the humor didn't reach his eyes. She shrugged and patted him on the shoulder as she left. Once she was gone, he dropped his head to his desk, glad not to have to keep up the front any more.
No, there would be no laughs for him tonight. Of that much, he was sure. He let his mind flirt with the enticing possibility of simply not showing up tonight, but dismissed it almost as quickly. Tonight would be bad, but the alternative was unthinkable. He sighed and went home to prepare.
The stroke of eight found him outside the apartment of his boss-and lover; too nervous to knock on the door. He was dressed comfortably and casually, but his clothes still felt too tight. Steeling himself for the ordeal ahead, he knocked softly, not surprised when the door opened immediately.
Skinner stared at him, every bit as intimidating in jeans and a Henley as he was in a suit and dress shirt. He greeted him with little more that a nod.
Mulder stared back, his lip quivering, but Skinner took no notice.
"Guest room, Fox. Now. You know what to do."
Mulder nodded and fled the room. This was going to be bad. Very bad.
The small room, as always, was as neat as a pin, but Mulder took no notice of the decor. He busied himself with the tasks expected of him. He took the pillows from the head of the bed and piled them near the edge closest to the door. Then he opened the top dresser drawer and removed the hairbrush and coiled leather belt lying there, placing them on the bed next to the pillows. For his final task, he slipped off his shoes and unzipped his jeans and stood facing the wall. He shivered, though the air was warm, wondering what would happen tonight. He tensed as he heard his lover enter the room a moment later and place something on the nightstand.
"Come here, Fox."
Mulder jumped at the tone, and hurried over to the bed. Skinner's hands went to his hips, and for a brief moment, Mulder thought he was going to pull him close for a hug, but he merely placed his hands on either side of the younger man's jeans and pulled them down to his knees, taking the briefs with them.
He turned Mulder toward the bed, whispering in the trembling ear. "You've been very naughty, haven't you, Fox? That's why you've earned a punishment night," he said, pushing the younger man down on the pillows.
Mulder nodded, not trusting his voice. Skinner wasn't surprised that his normally verbose lover was not anxious to talk. He guided him more fully over the cushions, until his butt was high and raised.
"Thinking time first, Fox," he purred, though Mulder knew there would be nothing sensuous about the long evening ahead. Mulder heard the older man rustling something behind him and then heard the dreaded words.
"Open up, love."
Face flaming, Mulder reached behind himself and pulled his ass apart, spreading his cheeks wide. He gasped as he felt the cold, hard intruder pushing gently but relentlessly at his most private opening. A butt plug-not large, but uncomfortable just the same. He bit his lip as it slid into him, already lubed. And a moment later, Mulder realized with what. The slow but steadily intensifying heat indicated that something like ginger oil had been used to ease the plug's passage.
Once it was fully inserted, Mulder wiggled helplessly. The burning was not exactly painful, but it made him exquisitely aware of every nerve ending in his bottom, as was the intention. Skinner patted the rounded mounds proprietarily.
"Thirty minutes of thinking time should be enough to start off your night," he said, carefully pulling Mulder's briefs back up over his backside. The base of the plug made a small tent in the cotton, and the elastic of the waistband made them push gently against the unwelcome addition.
"Hands, Fox," came the next command, and Mulder crossed his wrists on the bed in front of him forlornly, feeling the cold metal of his own handcuffs clicking loosely around his wrists.
"There, that should keep your hands from wandering back where they don't belong. I'll be back in thirty minutes. Your attention should be well focused by then." He kissed Mulder on the shoulder and patted him once again before leaving the room.
Mulder lay staring at the far wall, miserable. Having his jeans at his knees was worse than being naked all together. At least when he was nude, he could pretend that this was some kind of kinky sex game, with hot loving to follow. But when he was laying like this, the message was clear: this was punishment, pure and simple.
Mulder shifted slightly, causing the slight pressure of his underwear against the plug to increase. This in turn made the burning of the oil more intense, which made him squirm, starting the process all over again. He alternately couldn't wait for the thirty minutes to be up and dreaded it, knowing worse was to come. By the time his lover returned a half hour later, his nerves were as taut as piano strings.
Skinner entered quietly and stared at the man before him, feeling the love he had for him warring with the anger over his behavior. He pushed Mulder's tee shirt up, enjoying the feel of his lover's satiny smooth skin, not surprised when his touch raised goose bumps along the younger man's body.
"Have you had enough thinking time?" he asked in that same soft, slightly dangerous tone. Mulder nodded quickly and Skinner had to congratulate himself on how well this alternative to corner time seemed to center the younger man's thoughts.
"Hands?" Skinner asked again, but this time it was a question.
Mulder bit his lip in indecision. He hated the cuffs, but they did do a good job of keeping his hands out of the line of fire while he was being punished. He finally shook his head. After his behavior this morning, he was sure this punishment would be one of his worst, and he knew at some point he'd try to cover his bottom. Better to feel the strokes on his cheeks than his palms.
Skinner accepted his decision without comment, and then carefully lowered the younger man's briefs. He grasped the base of the plug and gently removed it, grinning to himself at Mulder's huge sigh of relief. He dropped it on the nightstand and then stood Mulder up and pushed the pillows out of the way. Settling himself comfortably on the edge of the bed, he patted his lap.
"Go ahead and take your pants off and then over my knee, Fox," he said sternly, ignoring his lover's now protruding lip.
Mulder complied, folding his jeans and underwear carefully and putting them on the bed.
"I'm sorry, Walter," he mumbled, his first real words since the whole ordeal began.
"If you're not now, you will be," Skinner countered evenly, pulling the reluctant young man down. Once he was properly positioned, the AD raised his hand and brought it down hard.
"The first part of your punishment is for disregarding my order not to investigate this case."
Mulder closed his eyes but didn't utter a sound. It was far too early in his punishment to be complaining, so he bit his lip, determined to bear it as stoically as possible.
Skinner warmed him up well, but he knew it was only a prelude to the punishment yet to come. Mulder's bottom was now burning inside and out, but he was still determined to tough it out as long as he could. That hope diminished somewhat when Skinner stopped and picked up the hairbrush.
"All right, Fox. Let's work on such trivial matters as calling for back up and not following through on a lead without notifying the proper local authorities."
After several smacks from the large wooden brush, Mulder gave into his misery and let out a loud wail. "Please stop, Walter!! It hurts!!"
His pleas were ignored as swats continued to rain down. Skinner made sure that the hairbrush covered each inch of skin several times, reducing his lover to piteous pleas. When the hairbrush finally stopped its punishing descent, Mulder heaved a gasping sob of relief, forgetting for a moment the belt which had been so conveniently placed nearby.
Skinner rubbed the skin of his bottom gently, his touch both soothing and re-igniting the fire.
"You have ten strokes coming with the belt, Fox," he murmured softly to his disobedient lover. "Do you want them now, or should we wait a bit?"
More decisions that Mulder felt ill-equipped to make in his current state!
"Wait! No-now!" he cried, trying to decide which would be worse. His bottom was throbbing and stung like fury. "No, wait-just for a minute", he finally gasped.
"Your choice, love. We have all night," the older man reminded him.
Some choice, but Mulder had expected nothing less than an evening of misery from the first moment he had read his lover's cryptic note.
He lay still for a few moments, trying to calm his breathing and concentrate on the soft, soothing motions of the AD's hand. Once the pain had diminished to a dull roar, he wriggled back, dropping completely onto his knees, being careful not to let his bottom brush his calves.
He stared at the ground miserably, his cuffed hands still in front of him. "I'm ready now, Walter," he said softly, thankful for the reprieve, but dreading what was to come.
Now it was Skinner's turn to nod wordlessly. He helped the younger man to his feet and pulled the pillows back to the edge. Mulder was once again arranged over them with his now red bottom high.
Skinner only uncoiled part of the belt, leaving a short tail for striking. It would still sting, but over a much smaller area. "Ten strokes, Fox. Count them aloud."
He snapped the first one down, and Mulder's reply of 'ONE!' came a moment later, muffled but audible. Skinner continued, trying to be dispassionate at the site of the sore bottom writhing beneath his blows. By the tenth stroke, his lover could barely choke the words out and his feet were kicking wildly.
Once he managed to gasp out 'TEN', Mulder released the tension he'd been holding in his body and simply hung limply over the pillow. He watched out of the corner of a teary eye as Skinner re-coiled the belt and returned it and the hairbrush to the dresser drawer. He felt his lover's soothing hand on his butt a moment later, but he was no longer in the mood to be comforted so he shrugged it off.
Skinner removed his hand without comment, deciding to let Mulder pout if he wanted to.
He gave the younger man a few moments, and then spoke softly.
"Fox....," he began, but was abruptly interrupted.
"Save it, Sir," Mulder said with a sneer in his voice. "And get these damn cuffs off me!"
Skinner was surprised at his lover's tone. Mulder never liked discipline, but he rarely reacted in anger. He felt a touch of his own anger from earlier that morning returning.
"Now just a minute. You deserved every bit you got tonight, and sulking about it will only ruin the rest of the weekend."
"Fuck you! You're a mean, bossy sadist and I hate you!" Mulder shot back, not bothering to consider the fact that he was still in an extremely vulnerable position.
His attitude was more than the older man was willing to put up with.
"That's enough! You know, I had something else planned for this evening, but I was going to let you skip it. Now I see you haven't learned as much as I'd hoped, so you've just managed to earn it back, and something more," he said ominously.
"Go to Hell!" Mulder shot back, all thoughts of self-preservation flying out of his head. He tried to push himself off the pillows, but his awkward position, coupled with his still-bound hands and overwrought state, made it impossible. He sank back down on the pillows, watching nervously as Skinner crossed over to the large silk floral arrangement on the desk. It was tasteful and obviously expensive, but it had always struck Mulder as incongruous in the room. He had just assumed it was something left over from Skinner's marriage, or perhaps it had been a gift. His curiosity turned to horror as Skinner plucked a long switch from the depths of the bouquet. It was long and whippy looking, and Mulder had no doubt it would sting quite a bit.
"This should work quite nicely," Skinner said, returning to Mulder's side with the lethal looking branch. "I had a feeling that arrangement would come in handy one day. It's the only reason I let the decorator talk me into it."
Mulder's eyes grew wide with terror as Skinner approached. "Please-I didn't mean the things I said!" He apologized frantically.
"Maybe not, but you're still going to be punished for saying them," Skinner replied implacably.
He moved right behind his now desperate lover. "Just two strokes, but I'm going to make them count." He raised the switch and brought it down hard in a diagonal line across Mulder's swollen buttocks. A white line appeared on the dark pink cheeks, and then immediately turned a deep red. He raised his hand again and brought the switch down in the opposite direction, producing a similar mark-and a perfect 'X' on his lover's bottom. Mulder let out a howl and pounded his feet on the floor, but by the time the pain had fully registered, the strokes were finished.
Skinner dropped the switch on the bed and folded his arms, admiring his handiwork. "That should be there for a day or two. The perfect reminder for the head of my most troublesome department."
Mulder didn't appreciate the humor. "Very funny, Walter," he snarled, but the effect was somewhat ruined by his teary voice. He squirmed and wiggled, wanting desperately to rub his sore hindquarters, but too proud and annoyed to ask his lover to remove the cuffs.
Skinner understood his dilemma immediately, but he was determined to wait him out. After watching his stubborn lover trying to ease the sting without his hands for several minutes, he finally gave in and spoke up.
"Are you ready to have the cuffs removed, Fox?" he asked, without a trace of irony.
Mulder should have just swallowed his pride and taken the bone that was offered, but some defiant streak in him just couldn't be quelled. He opened his mouth to say "Yes, please", but what came out instead was a muttered "Asshole".
That was the final straw for his tired-of-being-patient lover. "That's it!" he snapped. "Every time I try to cut you some slack, I end up regretting it. Well, you're the one who's going to be regretting it in a minute, mister." With that ominous statement, he disappeared from the room. Mulder heard him running water in the bathroom across the hall and felt his apprehension shoot off the scale.
Skinner returned a moment later and pulled Mulder up from the pillows.
"Come with me," he commanded, and Mulder finally decided to obey without question. His compliance lasted until he saw the enema bulb and bar of soap on the bathroom counter. He spun around and tried to flee, but Skinner gripped his elbow tightly.
"I was going to let you take care of this last part by yourself, since I'm sure you'd like to get rid of any trace of that oil, but since you just couldn't keep your nasty thoughts to yourself, I'll be handling it - and you can just chew on that soap while I do."
Mulder's lip stuck out even further. He hated enemas, and he hated having his mouth soaped even more. "Please, please-I'm sorry. I was just upset," he said, backpedaling.
Skinner ignored him and sat down on the commode, pulling Mulder down over his lap as he did so. He grabbed the bar of soup and held it under his lover's nose. "Open, now!"
Mulder reluctantly opened his mouth, wincing at the acrid taste as it settled on his tongue. His legs went stiff as he felt Skinner reach for the small bulb and part his cheeks. The nozzle was already lubed and his lover was very gentle, but Mulder still loathed being invaded this way, even though the cool water did dispel the residual burn almost instantly.
The whole wretched process only took a few minutes, but they were a miserable few minutes. As soon as he was finished, Skinner left him to allow him some privacy. He got cleaned up and tried to remove the soapy taste from his mouth with cup after cup of water. Deciding on a shower, he turned on the water. He stared at his reflection in the mirror as he waited for the water to get hot. His eyes were swollen and teary and when he turned, he could see the 'X' left by that horrible switch standing out in clear relief against his still pink bottom.
He stepped gratefully under the warm spray, wincing slightly when the heat reached his backside. He leaned against the tile, letting the water soothe his wounded body and pride. He started a moment later when the shower curtain moved aside to allow another customer. Skinner pulled the younger man towards him, letting the spray fall around both of them. Mulder sank appreciatively against his shoulder, his earlier petulance forgotten. He purred when Skinner grabbed the bath gel and squirted it all over his hands, and then let them roam all over his body, tracing the two welts on his bottom carefully with a wet finger.
They remained like that until the water grew too chilly for comfort, and then Mulder let his lover dry them both off quickly and then wrap him in a fluffy towel and push him toward the master bedroom. He was soon settled into the big bed, laying on his stomach. His bottom was still sore, but the rest of him was warm and comfortable, and he drifted off to sleep with Skinner's hands running softly through his hair.
When he woke up, he was still alone, but in the dim light he could see there was a tray on the table by the bed. He turned on the light, squinting as the brightness hit his eyes and then lifted the lid and discovered a sandwich and one of his favorite pickles. He was just picking it up when his lover quietly opened the door.
"Hunger woke you up?" Skinner asked, half-smiling at the tousled man in the bed.
"Yeah, I guess so," Mulder replied around a bite of his sandwich. "I thought as part of my punishment I was being sent to bed without supper."
"Nah, you don't eat enough as it is. Besides, punishment night is over," Skinner said, coming to stretch out next to the younger man.
"Softy," Mulder whispered affectionately. Then he laughed.
"What?"
"This just reminds me of a story I used to read with Samantha when she was little. 'Where the Wild Things Are'. The boy in it, Max, I think, gets sent to his room without supper by his mother for misbehaving. He decides to have a great adventure and travels to an island filled with wild beasts. He tames them and they make him their king, but then he decides to return home. When he gets back to his room, his dinner is waiting on the night stand for him."
"Sounds like Max's mother was a softy, too," Skinner murmured sleepily. He pulled Mulder closer to him and they both settled under the blankets.
"Good night, Walter," Mulder said, snuggling down next to him.
"G'night, Max," Skinner replied, patting Mulder's still warm bottom.
THE END