dusty (dustandroses) wrote in dustyrydersrecs, @ 2005-10-22 17:45:00 |
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Current mood: | smutty |
Current music: | Strange Kind of Love - Peter Murphy |
X-Files
Fandom: X-Files
Title: A Routine Interrogation
Author: Lyrica
Genre: PWP, First Time
Pairing: Skinner/Mulder
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Dom/sub, Bondage, BDSM
Spoilers: None.
Notes: It's
a rather standard senario, one agent realizes the other is into the
same thing they are when confronted with a kink through their job. But
I don't really care how formualic the plot is, I only care that it
works. Hey, if it ain't broke, don't fix it.
Excerpt:
The man was the same size and build as Mulder, tall and lean, his shoulders
hinting at whipcord
strength. He wore a spotless white shirt, dark perfectly creased trousers,
a dark conservative
tie loosened just enough to be erotic. And in his hand, he held a thick,
leather strap.
Mulder forced himself to look away, to follow training and instinct,
to take in the
surroundings. Huge room. Heavy, dark antiques. Books. Rich, blood red
upholstery. Crackling,
leaping fire.
Still aware of the gaze on him, he managed a cursory glance at the other
occupants. Blonde man
leaning elegantly against the marble fireplace. The British butler
type who'd opened the door
standing beside him. A couple on a nearby couch. A man kneeling...
His mind swept right past
him, blurring him out. All non-threatening. Except the man with the
dark eyes. He was the
threat. He was danger. Familiar eyes in the face of a stranger. Knowing
eyes.
Without looking away from him, the dark eyed man raised the strap. Mulder's
heart gave a loud,
painful twist, as if it would somersault from his chest. His bicep
flexed, as if it was his
hand lifting the strap. As if it was his wrist turning with the elegance
of a ballet dancer.
Soft whir as it cut through the air and landed across the kneeling
man's ass.
Only then, as the sharp sound of the leather striking flesh caressed
his ears, as the muscles
across his own buttocks contracted with the blow, did he *really* see
the kneeling man. Until
that moment, he'd allowed his brain to render the kneeling figure as
hazy as the room. Until
his moan rent the heavy air, made him so real that Mulder jerked. His
cock throbbed. His
fingers curled into his palms. Swift intake of breath, as if he might
not get another.