Painful X-Perience Series
by DiAnn

Painful Experience Part V

FEEDBACK NOTE: DiAnn passed away in her sleep on 
August 23, 2000.
Xanthe has set up a Book of Condolences at:
http://www.xanthe.org/Guest/Diann.htm
Please take a moment and sign the book if you 
enjoyed this story.

Rating: NC17 - language, adult themes 
Category: Vanilla Slash / Pure Trash / 
Discipline

Warning: Mulder/Scully/Skinner 
If you don't like this kind of thing, or you 
are underage, go somewhere else . . . NOW! I 
don't want to hear from you and I
don't want to hear from your Mama.

Spoiler: None Maybe some mention of other 
episodes but nothing too revealing.

Disclaimer: I do not, nor ever will, own 
Mulder, Scully, Skinner, Krycek or the 
X-Files. I am borrowing them without
permission and am obviously not receiving 
money for this stuff. We all know who they 
really belong to, CC, Fox and lots of
other people but again, not me.



Painful X-Perience V
Give It Back, It's Mine
by DiAnn

Mulder had been jogging for what seemed like 
hours. His backside still stung. He knew that 
would be the case for the rest of
the evening and probably tomorrow, too.

At the moment, Fox Mulder was feeling very 
sorry for himself. He loved Scully. She was 
everything he wanted in a friend
and a lover. He also loved Walter. Respected 
him and wanted his respect in return.

The three of them had been uninhibited and 
even wild in their sexual play. It had felt 
very comfortable and natural for the
three of them to be together. After all, none 
of them had anyone to depend on except for 
each other.

Everything was great between them except when 
Skinner felt like he had to reinforce 
Scully's discipline. Tonight he had
beaten Mulder's already sore backside soundly 
with a strap. And while Skinner had punished 
him, Scully had lovingly patted
her partner's head and told him it was for 
his own good. Yeah right!

But it really didn't matter. He would not . . 
. could not let them continue doing this. 
They treated him like a child, a naughty
child at that. Damnit, he was a federal 
agent, he deserved some respect. If they 
really did love him as they claimed, they
would not have chosen to hurt him as they had 
done tonight. Well, maybe that wasn't exactly 
true but . . . damn it.





And Scully. His beautiful Scully had started 
it all with that damned hairbrush of hers. He 
should never have let that happen the
first time. He could have talked her out of 
leaving him. Submitting to that brush could 
not have been the only way.

And Skinner. Bet he didn't invite the other 
field agents over for dinner and a strapping. 
**Well . . . of course he didn't take
them to bed either**

Now it seemed both Skinner and Scully planned 
to continue in this disciplinary direction. 
Until he changed . . . or until hell
froze over. Damnit, the Devil was sure to own 
ice skates before he would be able to sit 
down comfortably again.

Well, no way. Not again. He was going to draw 
the line. He was not afraid of Skinner and 
Scully. **Yeah, right** and he
was going to tell them as soon as he got back 
to the house. No more discipline.

His thoughts tumbled over and over themselves 
as he ran. Ran into the night. Ran out his 
humiliation and anger and
disappointment. Suddenly he stopped and 
looked up. Where on earth was he. He had 
never seen this art of town before.
How could he have gotten so far from his 
apartment?

It was quiet and dark. The shabby buildings 
fading into the shadows. *Oh Great* He had 
done it again. Scully was really
going to kill him this time. He looked around 
again. Oh Yeah, he was a dead man. Then 
Walter would no doubt revive him
so he could kill him personally, this time 
slowly and painfully.

He had to get himself out of this situation 
without alerting Scully or Skinner. He had to 
find out where he was, he had no
money for a cab or even a phone call. He also 
had no badge and no gun.

Think Mulder. Think. If he did find a way to 
call Scully, that little episode in Skinner's 
den tonight would pale in comparison
to what she would dish out for getting lost 
while running again. Late at night. Don't 
forget late at night. One of her favorite
Mulder tricks.

He noticed a figure standing up ahead, 
leaning against the corner of a building 
watching him. The dark blue van parked on the
street looked really familiar, he thought he 
had seen one just like it earlier this 
evening. Oh well, lots of blue vans on the 
road.

Okay, decision time. He could -one- turn 
around and just start jogging in the other 
direction. *What* exactly other direction
that would be, he didn't know. That could 
just make matters worse. Or he could -two- 
ask this *nice man* where he was.
So the guy was big and mean looking. Mulder 
was a trained FBI Agent. He could take care 
of himself. He just wouldn't tell
the guy that he got spanked on a regular 
basis.

Mulder tried to keep his distance without 
showing any reluctance to approach this giant 
of a man.

"Hi, I seem to have lost my way, could you 
tell me what street this is and how I can get 
back to . . . "

The man took two steps, reached out one huge 
hand locking his fingers in the front of 
Mulder's sweatshirt. He then lifted the
agent completely off his feet and slammed him 
into the solid brick wall of the building.

Mulder felt the back of his head hit hard, 
then he felt the all too familiar prick of a 
needle in his arm. His last coherent thought
before he collapsed into the giant's waiting 
arms was, "Yep, Scully is really going to 
kill me this time."

********

"I am really going to kill him this time." 
Scully was pacing the floor angrily. "I swear 
If I can just find him alive and safe, I will
kill him. I would rather kill him myself than 
have to go through this one more time."

They had called Mulder's apartment and cell 
phone repeatedly. No answer. Never an answer. 
Where could he be? Why did
he have to do this all the time? Couldn't he 
give them a break just once?

"Calm down, Dana. We'll find him." Skinner 
hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. 
He knew that if there was trouble
within a hundred-mile radius, Mulder would 
find it. "He was upset when he left the 
house, he'll calm down and call."

Scully gave him her patented skeptical look. 
"Let's go over to his apartment. Maybe we can 
trace him from there. And he
had better not be on that scruffy old couch 
and just not answering his phone."

Skinner winced. For Mulder's sake he hoped 
his wayward agent had been abducted by 
aliens. Painful medical
experimentation would be a far better fate 
than facing his partner right now.

********

The room was spinning . . . no . . . no, he 
was spinning . . . and there was a terrible 
pain in his shoulder.

Coming a little more to himself, Mulder 
through a haze of pain, looked around. He was 
suspended by his left wrist. A few
inches off the floor. His hand was completely 
numb but his shoulder was screaming. Damnit! 
That was the same shoulder that
had been dislocated three times before.

He had the impression of a large empty room. 
He couldn't see any windows. Either there 
weren't any or it was still night. His
sweatshirt and shoes were gone, but 
thankfully he was still wearing his 
sweatpants.

The strain on Mulder's shoulder was 
tremendous and he was having trouble getting 
enough air. Suddenly he felt hands on his
body giving him a hard shove. That was all it 
took to finally dislocate his previously 
injured shoulder. He screamed and the
merciful darkness came for him again.

******

He groaned as he opened his eyes some time 
later. Now he was suspended by both wrists, 
his arms pulled widely apart. His
dislocated shoulder was on fire and there was 
another fire on his back.

Thack! He flinched as the leather left 
another weal across his shoulders.

"Do you like my little toy, Agent Mulder? I 
noticed that someone had already made you 
acquainted with the lash. You must
have been a very naughty boy." Thack! Thack! 
Thack!

"Yo . . . you pe . . . peeked."

"Of course I peeked. You are very beautiful. 
I wanted you the minute I saw you. I would 
have had you earlier if that red
headed partner of yours hadn't always been 
with you."

"Are you . . . Arthur Felding? We . . . we've 
been looking for you."

Felding laughed. "I'm sure you have. Those 
other men deserved to die, you know." Thack! 
"Tell me, Pretty Boy, who laid
into your backside like that?" Mulder felt 
hands at the waist of his pants, they were 
quickly pulled to rest midway down his
thighs. Thack! Now the strap landed across 
both of his already punished buttocks.

"Better talk to me, Sweet Boy, I can go on 
with this all night. Thack! Thack!

"I. . .I have a fe . . . feeling you will 
anyway."

"You could be right. Did you know your skin 
is like satin? It marks beautifully. I would 
suggest you tell me what happened to
you, I have lots of other toys besides this 
lash. I just assumed you liked straps and I 
so wanted to make you happy." Thack!
"Are you happy, Agent Mulder?"

"Not . . . not particularly."

Thack! Thack! Mulder was in agony. His flesh 
was burning from shoulder to mid thigh. He 
wasn't sure how much more of
this he could take before he screamed. He 
really didn't want to do that. There had been 
plenty of humiliation for one day
already.

Thack! Mulder drew in a harsh breath. He 
tried to think. He didn't want to mention 
Skinner. That could be bad . . . very
bad. Better to establish himself as 
completely straight for this guy. He *was* 
straight except for that attraction to 
Skinner.
And he certainly was *not* attracted to this 
psycho.

Thack!Thack!Thack! *Oh Scully, where are you. 
I need you Scully. Find me now and I will let 
you kill me without an
argument. *

"If . . . if I tell you . . . will you stop?"

Thack! "Of course, Now I'm waiting for your 
answer, Pretty Boy. Who strapped that 
delicious bottom of yours?"

Thack! "My . . . my partner."

"That little red head. The one that was with 
you at my last crime scene?"

"Yeah, she's little but deadly."

"So I see." Thack! Thack! Thack!

"You . . . you said you would st . . . stop 
if I tol . . . told you."

"I lied." Thack! Thack! Thack!

*******

Scully was in a panic. She had let herself 
and Skinner into Mulder's apartment. After a 
little poking around she determined
that those ratty running shoes of Mulder's 
were not in their usual spot but his gun and 
badge were on the coffee table. He had
gone out running. In the dark, late at night, 
all alone, AGAIN!

When she got her hands on him . . . she had 
begged him to give up this late night jogging 
habit. He only did it when he was
upset or distracted but he *always* got lost. 
And often in the worst parts of whatever town 
they happened to be in.

He couldn't understand why she got so angry 
with him. He didn't realize how frustrating 
he could be at times. He never had
to sit around and wonder what had happened to 
her, well . . . at least not because she just 
ran off and left him. Skinner had
told her how Mulder had reacted while she was 
missing. Unbearable, depressed and self 
destructive.

You would think that experience would teach 
him something. She suspected it didn't teach 
him because he thought he loved
her more than she loved him. Or maybe more 
than he deserved to be loved. She would give 
a month's pay to have the
opportunity to tell his parents a thing or 
two about raising a son. Especially a 
sensitive, gentle son like Mulder.

But in trying to reach him and reason with 
him, she and Walter had hurt his feelings. 
And now he had run off again and she
just knew he was in serious trouble. She 
wasn't sure how she knew, she just knew.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing 
of her cell phone. She hurried to take it 
from her jacket pocket. "Mulder!
Mulder is that you . . . where are you?"

"This isn't Agent Mulder. Is this Agent 
Scully? I just bet it is. Are you worried 
about your pretty partner?"

"Who is this? Where is Mulder? What have you 
done with him?"

"O-hhh, lots of questions. Where should I 
start. Well first of all, I have him. And I'm 
taking really good care of him. Well
actually, he isn't awake right now. He passed 
out right in the middle of our play time. You 
haven't taught him very good
manners, now have you. But don't worry, I 
will be taking over his discipline from now 
on."

Scully had closed her eyes, this man was 
insane and he said he had Mulder. Skinner 
reached for the phone.

"This is FBI Assistant Director Skinner. 
Where are you holding Agent Mulder? Are you 
aware what you are doing is a
federal offense?"

"Ahhh . . . now this is interesting, a MAN of 
action. Are you a *Friend* of the Pretty Boy. 
He led me to believe that he was
only interested in that redheaded woman. Is 
it possible I have a chance here? He is quite 
delectable. I could learn to love this
one, if he were to live long enough that is." 
Felding laughed at his own joke.

"Of course, I can't let him live. He knows 
about the others, all of the others. All the 
others who deserved to die. A smart boy
you have here. Such a shame he has to die, of 
course I plan to thoroughly enjoy him first."

Skinner swallowed hard. This had to be the 
suspect in the serial murder investigation 
Mulder was currently working. Mulder
had, of course, gotten close to a solution, 
obviously too close.

Skinner took a deep breath to regain control, 
when he spoke he was surprised at how calm he 
sounded. "I am Agent
Mulder's direct supervisor. It is a Federal 
Offense to assault a Federal Agent, I would 
recommend you keep that in mind
before you take liberties with him."

"Well, you're right about one thing, Mr. Big 
Shot FBI, he is a very *special* agent, 
incredibly special. I am having a really
good time with him. Did you know if you hurt 
him enough, your *Special* agent can scream 
very loudly. Very loudly
indeed."

Skinner closed his eyes. He couldn't stand 
the thought of someone hurting Mulder. 
Suddenly the phone line went dead. "Shit,
Shit, Shit." Skinner threw the phone across 
the room to shatter against the wall.

****

"Time to wake up, Pretty Boy. You know you 
really are a Fox. Not often you find that, a 
man with a name that suits."

The first thing that Mulder felt was pain, 
intense searing pain washing over him in wave 
after wave of sensation. His back was
on fire, his dislocated shoulder was 
screaming, his head was pounding and his 
vision was blurry. He could feel his blood
mixed with sweat running down his back and 
legs. All in all it was a typical *Mulder * 
kinda day.

His arms were still chained widely apart but 
they had been lowered and his feet were now 
resting on the floor. That was at
least some relief, it made breathing a whole 
lot easier. The pain in his shoulder was 
unbelievable. He really needed to get that
back in place soon. Permanent damage would 
make him ineligible for field duty. He did 
*not* want to be desk bound at the
good old FBI.

As he became more aware of his surroundings, 
he squinted through blurry eyes to see his 
captor standing in front of him
holding a short piece of plastic pipe. **Oh 
Shit, Scully this is not looking good, he can 
do a lot of damage with that pipe. I
really need you to find me - now. **

Suddenly the pipe made contact with his 
stomach. He felt his knees buckle under him 
as the air left his body. Mulder thought
he felt a rib crack. He fought back the bile 
that rose in his throat.

"Are you ready to play some more, Pretty Boy? 
Are you ready to excite me, ready to make me 
feel oh-h-h-h so good?" He
reached over and lifted Mulder's chin, 
meeting the agent's pain glazed eyes. Patted 
his cheek tenderly.

"Ge . . . get your hands . . . hands off me. 
And don't call me .. . me that. I told you . 
. . I'm not . . . not interested in you."

"Come now, Pretty Fox, you make me feel 
better and I'll make you feel better. 
Otherwise . . . " The plastic tube connected
with the solid flesh of Mulder's chest. Then 
it started a steady cadence against his ribs, 
chest and upper thighs. Felding
continued to use the plastic pipe, he wanted 
his captive to never be able to forget this 
punishment. Not as long as he lived.
And how long he lived was entirely up to 
Feldman. *His* choice. *His* pretty Federal 
Agent. Felding felt powerful, he felt
*good*.

***

Skinner and Scully finally got a break. A 
homeless man had been located who had seen 
what he called a giant put an
unconscious man into a car seven blocks from 
Mulder's apartment. The night and the time 
were correct and Mulder had
been upset, he could have run that far, he 
had done it before. Many times, and had 
gotten lost almost every one of those
times. Scully decided she was definitely 
going to kill him when she found him.

After some frantic investigative work, and 
some very long hours, the description of the 
giant' led them to the Muscle Man Bar
and Grill. Scully could not imagine that 
anyone would actually want to eat anything 
that was *grilled* there. It was a dive, in
every sense of the word. As they entered the 
establishment, every eye turned. They were a 
little overdressed and just reeked
of cop.

They spotted the man they were seeking almost 
immediately. A huge man, more than six foot 
five inches, he towered above
the other customers. He leaned against the 
bar, his eyes dulled from too much drink and 
drugs.

This giant turned out to be no problem for 
one hot tempered redheaded federal agent and 
her deadly companion. He took
one look at Scully and Skinner's eyes and 
decided that the man who had hired him to 
follow and overtake the jogger was
less dangerous than these two.

He felt safer cooling his heels in a cell 
than facing the bodily harm he could tell 
these cops were just dying to inflict on him. 
He
was almost more afraid of the woman than the 
broad shouldered man. She looked like she 
really *wanted* to shoot him,
wanted it badly.

He sang like a bird. He told them about the 
house, the man who had hired him and about 
the dark haired *kid* he had
captured. He seemed genuinely astounded to 
learn the *kid* was a Federal Agent. Were 
they sure it was the right guy, the
one he had grabbed had just looked too young 
to be a fibbie.

Scully rolled her eyes. Mulder's boyish looks 
caused them endless trouble. Add on the 
designer suits and she had to work
hard to match his GQ looks. **Such an 
irritating man.**

****

The bright lights were sparkling behind 
Mulder's eyes again. The bright twinkling 
lights in the darkness. Mulder could hear his
own heart pounding in his head. Felding was 
standing behind him, hands covering the 
agent's mouth and nose.

Air. He desperately needed air. No. No . . . 
maybe this time Felding would keep at it a 
little too long and Mulder would be
able to just let go. He couldn't take this 
pain anymore. He really wanted to die. To die 
would be so easy compared to this
torture. Scully hadn't come for him, 
obviously didn't love him, wouldn't mourn his 
death. And Skinner hadn't cared enough to
find him either. No one would really miss him 
and he hurt, he hurt so much.

It was time to just let go and end this. It 
had been three days, maybe four, he wasn't 
sure. It could have been weeks. Endless
days of pain and humiliation. Felding had 
beaten, fondled and suffocated him, the 
punishments had steadily escalated. Now
there was little time to recuperate between 
torture sessions. It was time to just let go. 
**One last chance Scully, now or
never. **

He collapsed into Felding's arms. His mouth 
and nose were immediately released. Mulder 
instinctively gulped air. His head
cleared a little. It hadn't ended. It hadn't 
ended. **Scully, help me. **

"You don't look like you feel too well, 
Pretty Fox."

Felding ran a hand through Mulder's soft dark 
hair. He caressed his cheek, pressing a 
finger to that full bottom lip, Mulder's
face was just too pretty to bruise. But the 
rest of his body was a mess, covered in dark 
bruises, deep cuts and blood, lots of
beautiful blood. That was fine, it was better 
than fine. Felding loved to see strong, 
beautiful young men looking just this way.
Battered and bloody. It was just so exciting, 
and Fox was the most exciting of all.

Felding pulled Mulder's mouth to his. His 
captive began to struggle for breath again. 
Felding just deepened his assault on the
mouth under his, biting and sucking at that 
delicious lower lip. Stolen kisses from 
sweet, wet lips. So wonderful, so
exhilarating.

This young federal agent was so sensitive and 
so sexy. He really wanted to keep him, his 
own personal, private pet Fox. But
the time had come, he had to get rid of him. 
Someone would come looking for him soon. No 
one this desirable would be left
among the lost for very long. He let go of 
the struggling man, loving the sound of him 
gasping for breath, that beautiful lower
lip looking bruised and swollen from his 
unwanted attention. So sweet. He would 
definitely miss this one.

His hands shaking with sexual desire, Felding 
walked to the table and picked up a very 
wicked looking knife; large, sharp
and deadly. It felt heavy in his hand. It 
felt good. It felt really good.

He walked over to Mulder, raised the knife 
and buried it his left shoulder. Mulder was 
so far gone he barely flinched, a low
moan the only indication he had been hurt 
again. The darkness was such a good place to 
hide.

*** 

Assistant Director Skinner and Special Agent 
Scully approached the seemingly abandoned 
building with great care. This city
had far too many empty buildings these days. 
Places only suitable for the scum that 
inhabited them.

They burst through the door to see a man with 
a large knife raised, ready to viciously stab 
something that was hanging from
the ceiling. Scully froze, *Oh my God, it was 
Mulder.*

"Freeze, FBI." Skinner's voice boomed in the 
emptiness of the vast room.

Felding swung around surprised and wild eyed, 
this was not supposed to happen. He had to 
kill his *special* agent, he had
to kill him now before these two intruders 
could stop him. He had to finish. He just had 
to. How dare these people disrupt
him? He deserved to play with this pretty 
boy. Men like this one would never look twice 
at him, thought they were too good
for the likes of him. Well he had shown them. 
He had shown them all. No matter how 
beautiful they were, they ended up
playing with Arthur Felding. That was only 
fair.

Felding raised the knife over his shoulder, 
ready to strike. Both Scully and Skinner 
fired their weapons. Feldman was dead
before the knife dropped from his hand, dead 
before he hit the floor. The surprised look 
never left his face.

Scully ran to her partner, "Oh Mulder, no." 
She was crying now. "Please wake up and talk 
to me."

Skinner unfastened the chains and carefully 
lowered Mulder to the floor. Then while 
Scully tenderly cradled his head and
tried to examine the extent of the damage, 
Skinner applied pressure to the knife wound 
in his shoulder and called for an
ambulance.

Mulder moaned and opened his eyes, very 
slowly. He felt small cool hands running all 
over his body. He flinched in pain. He
hurt absolutely everywhere. He had to talk to 
the owner of those hands, make them stop 
their explorations. Blinking several
times to clear his vision, he tried to focus 
on the face in front of him.

"Sc . . . Scully, is that really you?"

Scully ran her hands gently down his cheek. 
"It's really me, Mulder. Just lie quietly. We 
have help on the way. You're going
to be ok, no one is going to hurt you now."

Mulder gasped and tried to sit up, "Whe . . . 
where's Felding?'

He heard Skinner's voice answer, "He's dead, 
Mulder, he will never hurt anyone again. "

Mulder closed his eyes. Then he quickly 
opened them a second time, "Scully, am I . . 
. am I in trouble with you . . . again?"

Scully sniffled, "No. No, I think you've been 
punished enough this time." She sniffled 
again and then her eyes hardened, "But
if you ever . . . "

End Five