TITLE: Awoken AUTHOR: Fiji EMAIL: findingfiji@yahoo.com FEEDBACK: Nothing would make me happier! RARTING: 17+ CLASSIFICATION: VR MSR SPOILERS: Nope! Not-a-one! SUMMARY: "Short of tying me to the bedposts while I sleep and then having your way with me till I wake up screaming, I don't htink you'll ever see me loose control. Sorry, Scully, that's just not me." NOTES: This story is a graphic description of Mulder and Scully engaging in consensual, but somewhat funky, sex. If bondage or mild dominance offends you, or if you are under 18, please do not read this! Let me also take this time to thank my beta reader, Angelique, and all of the people who took time to offer feedback on my first piece, 'Rushin' Roulette'. I don't know if this story would have come to be had it not been for all of you! Thank you!!!! ------------------------------------------------- "I'm sorry, Scully, I'm just not like that." I push my chin out in frustration and breathe heavily. That answer is simply unacceptable. Unfortunately, it is the only one he has been giving me for the past fifteen minutes. "Wouldn't you like to be?" He starts worrying his bottom lip, considering this new question. "I don't know," he pauses, "I don't think so." That irks me. "Oh, so it's fine for me to lose control, but not you?" My voice is raising, but I don't give a damn. "No, I'm not saying that. I mean, I love how you let go for me, but I've never been able to do that. Call it the curse of the paranoid." He attempts a lopsided-smile, but it comes out looking more like a grimace than anything else. "You are paranoid everywhere else in your life, do you have to bring it into the bedroom, too?" "It's not the sort of thing you pick and choose, Scully. You don't say 'the FBI, the consortium, and my upstairs neighbor are out to get me, but, the basketball court, M Street, and Scully's bedroom are safe places to be.' The fear is everywhere, it's inside me, not some removable prosthetic that I can take on and off as I please." "You don't think I'm afraid? Don't you realize that your insecurities are the same as mine?" Well, maybe not identical, but we're fighting here and slight stretches of the imagination have to be allowed. He doesn't call me on it. Instead, he responds, "Why do you think I love to watch you lose control so much? It's not just erotic and beautiful, but you're putting all those fears in my hands. Your trusting that if Cancer Man comes bursting through that bedroom door with a gun in one hand and a cancer chip in another that I will protect you. And for that short time period, when your eyes are closed, head thrown back, and your begging and screaming so loudly your neighbors probably think someone is threatening your life, I believe I can protect you. It's very healing for me, to see that physical embodiment of you trusting me with everything." "I've always trusted you." My voice is much softer, and I realize with his latest confession, my argument is loosing steam. "And I you. This isn't about you, it's about me." He presses the pad of his finger into the middle of his chest when he says 'me', to accent the point. "I believe that. I mean, I understand that I shouldn't be personally offended, and I'm not. I just want to give you the same amazing release that you give me." "Short of tying me to the bedposts while I sleep and then having your way with me till I wake up screaming, I don't think you'll ever see me loose control. Sorry, Scully, that's just not me." Pleased with his joke, he offers me another lopsided grin, and this one looks much better than the previous. "Let's just go to sleep." I hold my arms out to him, and he slides comfortably into them on command. "G'night, Scully." "Night, Mulder." He is asleep in minutes, breathing shallowly, his face pressing softly against my breast. I remain awake for awhile afterwards planning. Without knowing it, he had planted a seed, and it is growing rapidly in my mind. ---------------------------------------------------- I am so nervous as I move quietly about the bedroom. In the back of my mind I am thanking God that Mulder has turned into a sound sleeper whenever he knows I'm present, and I'm begging that he remains one tonight. I wonder if it's correct to plead with God over things like this, and should I confess it to my priest? Oh, I can just imagine... "Yes, Father, I have sinned. I engaged in pre- marital intercourse two times since my last confession, told four lies to my superior in order to help stop a global conspiracy, oh, and I prayed to Jesus that my partner wouldn't wake up as I tied him to the bedposts in hopes of making him scream. How many Hail Mary's will that be?" No, I think not. I step back to survey my handiwork. Mulder is spread-eagle on the bed, his wrists and ankles tied securely to the bedposts with soft, fuzzy bindings. Come to think of it, that store I bought these in should also be included in my confession. However, I do believe that the embarrassment of being there was enough to make me repent. There was only one piece left that I needed to complete my work. I reached over into my underwear drawer and pulled out a blindfold made of the same delicate material that was holding my scrumptious lover to the bed. Mulder and I rely so heavily on non-verbal conversation, that I fear he would get too much comfort from being able to look into my eyes. He might see the love, the tenderness, the playfulness, and in those emotions, regain some of his control. I slip it over his eyes gently, hoping not to wake him yet. He snores a bit and shifts on the bed, as if he's going to roll over. Holding my breath, I silently beg him to stay still. If he moves too much, he will surely discover he can't, and that will rouse him quickly. "Sshhh..." I offer gently, hoping the knowledge of my nearness will comfort him in slumber. Surprisingly, it works, and he rests soundly in the position he is in. Before I begin my sensory onslaught, I glance at myself in the mirror. The teddy I am wearing fits perfectly, hugging my skin, the black lace accenting the milky whiteness of my body. It really is a shame he won't see me in it tonight. But I know Mulder, and it will drive him wild to feel the scratchiness of the bodice against his skin, the smoothness of the stockings, the shock of the garter belt, and the absence of panties. His imagination will be running overtime, and I am sure that this, if nothing else will make him beg for his freedom. You see, I have never worn lingerie for him. It is something I am inherently shy about, and although I have promised him that someday I will, that day had not come. Now, for me to dress so provocatively and him to have lost the sense of sight, well, the irony brings a cruel smile to my face. I will let him see me in it someday, of course, but not tonight. I step closer to the bed and kneel gently on the end, in between his spread legs. Picking up one of the props I've laid close by, I rub a soft fuzzy mitten up and down his legs. He sighs dreamily in his sleep. I slide the mitt further up his body and lean down to touch his flaccid penis with my lips. I suck hard, knowing he adores the sensation of growing erect inside my mouth. He moans, and is almost awake. I feel like I'm in slow motion, the anticipation driving me crazy. As soon as he is hard, I slide my lips back, and concentrate only on the head. As I suck, I'm swirling my tongue around in tiny little circles, and this is what wakes him. I think he was reaching down to run his fingers through my hair, a sleepy rendition of what he always does when we're awake. The make shift hand-cuff stopped him, pulling even tighter around his wrist, and he is wide awake and panicking. He pulls hard against the bonds, and for a brief moment, I fear my bed might break. His voice is at top volume when he bellows "Scully!" I'm not sure if he knows it is me that is doing this and is begging for me to either stop or acknowledge my presence, or if it is a reflex borne of too many kidnappings where we are pulled from the other's side. Either way, I know I will only let him stay in this tumultuous place for a few terrifying seconds.. He is on his third Scully-shout, when I moan against his cock and bob my head up and down it's entire length once. He grows completely still, and I repeat the procedure again, knowing he will recognize my voice, even though it is muffled around his erection. He does not let me down, I can tell the moment he realizes it's me. His body relaxes, and then stiffens out of an entirely new fear. "Scully." My name is not shouted now, it is issued as a warning. He is demanding that I let him up. I sigh and kneel up, his penis coming out of my mouth with an audible pop. I hate to have this conversation now, but I know it's necessary before I can continue with good conscience. "Do you know what my safe word is?" The display of emotions traverse across his face in, and I watch them all. We have only played games that require a safe word when I would be the one issuing the word. Now, I have flipped that around without his permission before hand. I am, in essence, asking for it now. His nod is barely perceptible, and although I recognize it, it is not good enough for me. "What is it?" My voice is much more confidant then I feel. "Apollo." His voice cracks on the 'lo', and I smile triumphantly. In fact, my grin is so large, I'm grateful he can't see it. "Do you know when to use it?" My question is obvious. If he knows what it is, of course he knows what it's for, but I'm leading up to something else. He nods, again, slowly. "Do you want to use it now?" He gasps at my question. I am proud of my knowledge of my partner, because I expected that reaction. Him answering 'no' to this question is almost as good as him begging me to tie him up and drive him wild. There are long, cool minutes before his voice quietly issues the "No." we've both been waiting for. As soon as he says it, that cottony mitt is back on his body, rubbing all up his torso and arms, down his legs, and up the underside of his still hard penis. He reacts to it haphazardly, sometimes squirming away from it, sometimes wiggling towards it. He is as conflicted with this sensation as he is with the entire scenario, unsure whether he wants none or more. Eventually, I settle the mitten around his cock and slowly rub it up and down. He's thrusting into it, searching for satisfaction that is not to be found in its ticklish confines. "Scully." He warns again, but it heeds nothing from me. In fact, my reaction is to settle closer to the apex of his thighs and purr, my hot breath right onto his tip. He groans again, and I decide that I want to taste him some more. Setting the tickle-torture device to the side, but not out of reach, I flip my body around so my legs are by his arms, and I am on all fours above him. I'm careful to make sure my promiscuously clad torso doesn't touch his as I lean down to suck his head between my lips. I am becoming more and more aroused as we continue, and I am sure he can smell me from where I hover just inches away from his face. As if he is reading my mind, he tells me. "You're naked Scully. Do you know how I can tell?" I shake my head no, with his penis still in my mouth, and that elicits a very loud groan from his throat. As soon as he recovers, he's talking again, with only slightly broken speech. "You dripped on me, Scully. You dripped right on my lips, and mmm, you taste delicious." I am momentarily mortified. Mulder loves to talk dirty, loves to tell me everything he feels and sees. A good Catholic girl like I am, I'm not quite comfortable with his verbal onslaught, and this time it felt particularly naughty. Perhaps he did that on purpose, to try and regain some control. Regardless, I'm not going to let him get to me. I'm gonna win this battle. "I'm not naked." I reply, ignoring his other comments. "Yes, you are." He answers confidently. "I may not be able to see you, but I can smell you. I tasted you. Not only are you naked, but you are very, very aroused." "Don't be so sure, Agent Mulder." I purr. Dismounting him, I round the bed to where his left hand lay trapped and hold it perfectly still. "I may feel naked," I say, as I take one of his fingers and rub it softly against my wetness. He groans loudly and he reaches to touch more of me, but my grip on him is firm, so he no loner has the little leeway the bindings offered. "But that doesn't mean I am." The last comment is punctuated by letting him touch the top of my thigh high stockings, just briefly, before I release his wrist and step backwards. "Scully!" He growls. "Oh, God, Scully! Let me see, Baby!" His pleadings might as well have fallen on deaf ears. I am a Cheshire cat, knowing that he is practically begging before he's even gotten a hint of the teddy that's pushing my breasts into my neck. "Do you like that?" My voice is playful as I run one stocking foot along his chest and belly. "Untie me, Scully!" He demands, his voice low and threatening. "Now, Fox," I admonish, relishing the use of his first name. "That's not very nice of you to try and threaten me! Just for that, you have to wait to find out my other secret." I wait for his reply, but there is none. He is completely silent. I suspected this would happen, he would try to outwit and outlast me. But, oh Mulder, I have all night... I crawl back between his legs and lick his left thigh, close to the knee, and then his right, then the left again. I go back and forth, offering nothing more than a teasing presence of my tongue. I am barely getting closer to where we both want me to be. I am a patient woman. I continue with my side to side taunting until I am so close to him I know he is positive I'm going to reach his penis on the next lick. Instead, I scoot down just a tad further and lick the sac I find there. One long, hot lick after the other, but only on his balls. Pleasing, but not satisfying. He still is yet to make a sound, but his breath is coming in short rasps. Mulder is not a patient man. Minutes pass, and I remain where I am, knowing I can't rush this. Bringing a person to their breaking point is a carefully orchestrated ordeal. Finally, when I fear he might be going numb, my tongue reaches for his hardness, and offers one fleeting lick. My partner's hips buck forward, but his mouth is clamped firmly shut. I start alternating randomly between short teases and long slow drags of my tongue. His anxiety is obvious, desperately wanting me to finish this job. I draw playful circles over his tip and he thrashes his head back and forth on the bed. I smile. This is exactly where I want him. "Mulder?" I begin gently. He lifts his head up, a silent acknowledgement to his name. "You know those stockings I'm wearing?" He nods. "They aren't the only things I'm wearing." He looks confused, and to explain to him, I reposition myself so I'm laying directly on top of him. I know he can feel the lace of the teddy, and the hardness of my nipples, and the wetness of my desire. I wait one, two seconds as he takes this all in, and then he loses it. "Oh, please, God, Scully. Let me up. I'll do anything, I swear it. All I want to do is bury myself inside you. Please, Scully! Please!" He's shouting by the end of his pleading and quite out of breath. Yes, this is what I wanted. "No." My answer isn't cold but it's firm. His reaction is unexpected as he thrashes wildly, bucking his hips and torso, pulling crazily against his bindings. Thankful for my quick reactions, I am off of him before he can unintentionally hurt me with his struggles. He moans and pleas and begs me for release, and his penis strains desperately towards me, harder than it ever has been before. He is undone. My hot hands rub gently over his body, wherever I can reach, and I coo nonsensical words meant to relax him. Eventually he is tired and out of breath and collapses onto the bed. "That's right baby, just rest. Let me finish this." "Please, Scully, please yes." His voice is raspy, and I understand his need. His body is hot as I climb back on top of him. I rub him teasingly against my entrance, letting him feel how wet I am. His silence from before is being atoned for now with a constant stream of words pouring from his lips. Half of them make no sense, but I think that he is worshiping me. Right before I impale myself on him, his voice cracks out, "Please, suck me, Scully. Please. Want your mouth so bad right now." How can I argue with that? Tonight is not about me, it is only about him. And Mulder has never, ever actually requested a blow job before. I am more than happy to comply. I reposition my body so my mouth is hovering right above him. "Let go now, Baby. Let go." They are the last things I say to him, before I wrap my lips around his cock and suck up and down in earnest. He has earned this release. The seconds are countable before his body stiffens up and his orgasm hits him. He yells through it all, begging both me and my God for deliverance. It is absolutely beautiful. As soon as he is spent, I ease off the mattress and divest myself of the outfit I have been wearing. Throwing on a normal pair of underwear, and burying the lingerie at the bottom of a drawer, I make my way about releasing him. He lays completely calm as I untie first his hands and then his feet. I wonder why he lets me release the blindfold last, instead of undoing it himself. I think maybe it is a silent confession to his enjoyment of my dominance. Or maybe, he just doesn't even realize he can untie it. He makes a face when he sees that I am no longer wearing the lace and garters from before. "Don't worry, Mulder, you'll see them." He smiles at my reading his thoughts. "I better." His husky voice tells me as he pulls me in for snuggles. We're both quiet for a long time, each lost in our own world, before he decides to break the silence. "Scully?" "Yes?" "Thank you." I smile into my pillow. Those two words admit so much. I am filled with gratitude for them, and am about to tell him so, before he continues. "Oh, and Scully?" "Yes?" "You better watch out." He pauses ominously. "I know where you sleep." He tugs on one of the bindings that had held his wrist, exemplifying his threat. I cuddle closer to him and feel one arm wrap tightly around me. "I'm not afraid of you, you big bully." A chuckle emanates from deep within his throat, and I know this evening will not go unreciprocated.