Title: Naughty Boy

Author/pseudonym: HollyIlex

Fandom: Xfiles

Pairing: Skinner/Krycek

Rating: NC-17; Discipline and sex (of a sort!)

Status: new, complete.

Series/Sequel: Number 2 in the "Look for America" series

Naughty Boy
by HollyIlex

SMACK!

The bare flesh beneath his hand jiggled as the hard hand hit it, leaving a red handprint.

"You've been a naughty boy," the voice said firmly.

It allowed for no argument, not even mild disagreement. What it said, it meant and it only spoke The Truth.

The man laying butt up being spanked accepted this.

SMACK!

"Tell me what you did. Confess."

Now the voice was honey, flowing over his abraded nerves and soothing him.

He jumped as another smack landed on the fleshy part of his buttocks.

"You'll feel better once you've confessed."

Honey again. He struggled to respond.

"I . . ."

He couldn't go on.

Three more smacks landed on his unprotected bottom in quick succession.

"Tell me."

Dark, dangerous, compelling, the voice commanded him now.

"I cancelled your order for Hershey Kisses."

"With my permission?"

Two more spanks.

"No."

A volley of smacks landed on his rapidly pinkening buttocks, too fast to count.

They hurt and the man fidgeted, trying to get away from the hard hand.

"Stay still, don't make me bend you over the table."

He hated the impersonal table, hard and unyielding. He steeled himself to stay in place as his lover rained more smacks down on his bare flesh.

"They're turning a very pretty shade of red," the voice said, conversational now.

Then it snapped out, "Why cancel them?"

"You ate nearly all the last consignment."

More smacks landed on his bottom and he fought the urge to squirm.

"Why is that a problem?"

"Your health. It's bad for you . . . "

Another volley of hard spanks had him crying out.

"Try again," the voice said, back to dark. velvet tones that could not be denied.

"You'll get fat and I won't fancy you," he screamed.

He felt himself shifted, moved so that his buttocks were held high by one hard thigh.

"Wrong answer, boy," the voice said, husky now.

The first crack of the hairbrush made him howl and he rocked, feeling his cock throb to life against the denim-covered thigh.

"That's it," he voice said. "Shout and scream all you like."

The hairbrush descended again and again, peppering his buttocks and thighs with blows and making him rock on the supporting thigh, his cock hard, his need urgent.

"More," he howled.

He felt the brush land on his red bottom and he shifted under the repeated blows, rubbing his cock on the rough denim.

He could feel it spiralling inside him, the pain creating the pleasure, driving it through him.

"Naughty boy," the voice said, husky with lust.

Walter Skinner came, screaming his pain and his ecstasy into the couch cushions.

Alex Krycek threw aside the hairbrush and flipped his lover over, holding him tight as he shuddered through the aftermath of the powerful orgasm.

When Walter was calmer, Krycek regarded him with amused green eyes.

"Okay?"

Walter nodded.

"Just answer me one question then. We've played this game before so why did you have to *really* cancel my Hershey Kisses."

Walter dropped his gaze to his lap and shifted, uncomfortable.

"Walter?"

"It was, umm, like I said, Alex. I don't want you to get fat . . . Alex!"

Walter's squawk of alarm was muffled by the couch cushions, as he found himself upended again.

"Walter. If I was a woman I would tell you that trying to control my body shape is a form of patriarchal control. As it is, I will just tell you this. Don't. (SMACK!) Do. (SMACK!) It! (SMACK). Understand? (SMACK! SMACK!)"

"Yes, Alex, yes," Walter sobbed.

Alex gathered his lover into a loving embrace.

"Good, Walter."

"I'm sorry, Alex. I'll email Mulder, get him to send extra so there's enough for you and the shop."

"Thank-you, Walter."

Krycek smiled and Walter sighed.

All was well with his world.

END

"To be different is not necessarily to be ugly; to have a different idea is not necessarily wrong. The worst possible thing that can happen to humanity is for all of us to begin to look and act and think alike," Gene Roddenberry