"THE TRAINING OF P"
Part Four
by Kassandra
cassandraxf@yahoo.com

~~~~~~~~~

It took nearly an hour, but the small padlock clicked open.

Pendrell couldn't decide whether or not to be exhilarated or terrified.
The door, of course, was locked.  And the window was likewise prepared
against such eventualities.

However, he *was* an FBI agent.  The pin wouldn't work on the door
tumblers, but there *was* a bobby pin in a crevice between the floor and
the woodwork.

God really must hate him.

He went to work with a will, however, he knew his duty, whatever else they
could say about him.  And had just heard the tumbler click when the door
opened suddenly, knocking him flat on his back.

Only then did he become aware that he'd never--God, it was
humiliating--taken the plug out, despite having his hands free.  Krycek's
expression was impassive.  "Very clever, Pet," he told him, his voice
uninflected.   "But I'm afraid not clever enough.  Or fast enough."

One corner of Krycek's mouth twitched.

Reaching down, he yanked Pendrell back to his feet in one swift movement.
"Robbie," he called, without turning, "I think some remedial discipline is
needed.  Bring me the strap."

Scarlet, Pendrell tried to pull away, tried to back up.  "Krycek, don't
make this any worse than it has to be, okay?"

Slow smile.  "Sir, Pet.  I'm sir, to you."  The fingers tightened on his
wrist.  A delicious shiver raised gooseflesh.

Prickling his skin.

The heat in Krycek's eyes was....terrifying and exhilarating.  Like picking
the lock.  Robbie appeared behind Krycek, looking entirely displeased.  He
took Pendrell's other wrist, they hauled him back down the hallway.

He didn't even try to struggle.

His wrists were fastened to the bottom posts of Krycek's bed. Robbie pushed
him down.  His face was on the bed, his ass straight up in the air and the
air whistled as the strap cut through it.

It cracked against him, making him jump, making him bite his lip.  Oh,
shit, Krycek was really putting some back into it this time.

Crack!  Again and again until biting his lip didn't help and involuntary
tears leaked from the corners of his eyes.  He couldn't help shifting,
trying to shift away from the blow, and only succeeding in shifting the
plug inside his ass.

As his ass reddened with each blow, he was further horrified that his cock
was waking up quite effectively.  By the time he was sobbing quietly into
the comforter, it was riding high against his belly.

They unfastened the cuffs from the posts, letting him sag down to his knees.

Krycek sat on the bed, pulling him gently across denim covered muscular
thighs and he wept quietly into Krycek's lap.  

He caught his breath on a gasp as the plug was pulled out.  As a rough hand
fondled his balls while Krycek stroked the nape of his neck 

"Your ass is a lovely color, Pet."  Krycek's tone was almost absent.
"Don't you think, Robbie?"  He reached down and began to unbutton his
jeans, freeing himself.

"I've always been impressed by your strapwork, sir," Robbie agreed,
satisfied.  "So many people have no sense of subtlety.  They keep on and on."


Pendrell's cock jumped as he saw that Krycek was fully erect.  He didn't
have much time to consider whether or not he wanted to protest--definitely
not, he thought, feeling the burn from the strap acutely--Krycek pulled his
head down, he opened his mouth and engulfed the swollen shaft.

Heard a sigh above him.  "Suck me off, Pet."

He obeyed, awkwardly at first, but remembering how he'd found the
rhythm the night before.  Robbie's shaft pressed against him, pushed into
flesh already lubed and slippery.

Combined with Krycek's strapwork, it hurt, but it hurt in a way that seemed
to melt into the pleasure of Robbie's grip on his cock.

"Fuck him hard," Krycek told Robbie, his voice husky.  "I want you to
stretch him out for me, let me see how he turns all pink and taut." 

Too late, Pendrell realized why the Gates of Hell were called as they were.
 As he got harder, the rings grew more snug, until they were biting into
sensitive flesh.  Holding him back.  He thrust his ass back frantically,
sucked and licked frantically at Krycek's shaft, hoping for reprieve.

Small whining noises escaped from his throat without volition.  He pushed
his cock into Robbie's fist, against Krycek's leg, as shameless as any
animal in heat.

It didn't take long.  He managed not to choke this time, took all of Krycek
into his mouth, swallowing frantically as Robbie began to slam harder into
him, harder and harder and harder....

And he still couldn't come, it felt like he was going to simply implode,
especially when Krycek rolled away from him and stretched out to watch
Robbie finish.  "You were very bad," Krycek told him regretfully.  "I'm
afraid I'm going to have to make sure that if you manage to get out, anyone
who finds you knows to return you to your master."

Robbie's thumb rubbed the mercilessly swollen head of Pendrell's cock.
Sighed and pulled slowly out.  "He's lovely, sir." 

"Isn't he?"  Krycek's smile was peculiarly sweet.

"And he's dripping." Robbie sounded satisfied.  "I hope, Pet, that this
teaches you a lesson." 

He whimpered.

Krycek stroked his own softening cock with a sigh.  "Well, get him dressed
and cuffed.  I think over in the corner there.  On the tiles." 

A low chuckle warmed the back of Pendrell's neck.  An unpleasant chuckle.
"Oh, you have made Master Alex angry, Pet."  Click of disapproval.

He whimpered again.  Let himself be levered up.  Oh, God, his ass still
burned.  No mercy.  Denim against bare skin, they must be Krycek's jeans,
they were too long for him.

He offered Krycek a tragic look, but Krycek was clearly unmoved, still
touching himself gently as he watched Robbie hook the chain to the wall
above Pendrell.

The stone tiles were cold.

He curled his toes, shifting from foot to foot.  It was ridiculous to feel
like he should apologize to Krycek.  Wasn't it?   

But he wanted to, badly.  Tears blurred his vision.  

"Has he had lunch yet, Robbie?"  Krycek yawned.  "Feed him before you give
him the beer.  I don't want to make him sick."

"I'm sorry," he blurted.

Krycek blinked.  Smiled kindly and rolled from the bed, not bothering to
tuck himself back together.  Came to stand in front of Pendrell, a hand
cupping each side of his face.  

A long invasive kiss, Krycek licked the roof of his mouth, sucked on his
lips.  "I know."  A murmur.  Krycek drew back and kissed the tip of his
nose.  "I know you are."  Kindly.  "But I'm afraid we have to make sure you
never forget your mistake, Pet."  Another kiss.  A long one.  

He arched up against Krycek's hips, pressing helplessly, constricted by the
rings and by the heavy denim.  He found he missed the plug.  He could
squirm on the plug, wakening his own pleasure. 

And they'd taken it away.

Drawing back, Krycek caressed his face.  "I'll be back shortly.  Robbie
will give you lunch and," brief, wicked smile, "Something to drink." 

He moaned.  "Please....please, sir."  Suddenly inspired.  "Please
don't leave, sir."

Krycek chuckled.  "I'll be back, soon, Pet."

Stepping back, he tucked himself back together, almost smirking as Robbie
re-entered the room.  "Make sure he gets plenty to drink, Robbie."

Robbie grinned.  "Indeed I will, sir."


Pendrell was desperate by the time Krycek returned.   

His bladder had rapidly filled at Robbie's insistence that he continue
drinking.  And was aching and full and he had to shift from foot to foot to
keep from noticing it.

"Please, sir," he asked Robbie, sucking up as much as he dared, "Please,
sir, I have to use the bathroom."

Robbie, presently engaged in reading a book, glanced up, clicked his tongue
disapprovingly and shook his head.  "Not until your master comes back, Pet."

So he was engaged in heartfelt prayer when Krycek finally came back
in the door.  

Robbie grinned again and went out, leaving Krycek to open a beer of
his own.  Take a sip, eyeing Pendrell speculatively.

Pendrell asked again, even more meekly.  Dancing from foot to foot.  

Krycek's gaze was thoughtful.  "No."

Krycek pulled a chair to sit in front of him and sat down, leaned back
lazily to take another sip. 

Pendrell blinked.  Blinked again.

"I own you," Krycek told him softly.  "Every single bit, from the top of
your head, to the soles of your feet.  And frankly, Pet, that includes piss."

Dumbfounded, Pendrell stared at him.  "But you can't," he began and hastily
shut his mouth again.

Krycek's eyebrows climbed.  "I can't?"  Incredulous tone.  "What am I going
to do with you, Pet?  You're clearly not paying attention." 

Sighing, he rose, went back to the closet and emerged with the leather strap.

Pendrell's heart thumped dolefully.  "I didn't mean it, sir."  Very small
voice.

It made no difference.  Well, there was one slight difference.  His ass
wasn't bare.  

On the other hand, he had to take a piss so badly he was morally certain
his back teeth would soon start to float.  And the first blow jarred him
alarmingly.

Crack.  "Who owns you?"  Crack.

"You d-d-d-do," he stuttered, trying to keep his legs together.  Oh, Christ. 

Another crack for good measure.  "And what can't I do?"

"N-n-n-nothing."  A little frantically.

The strap dropped and Krycek leaned close, breath warm on his ear.  "And if
I tell you to do something, Pet?"

"I d-d-d-d-do it."  He was sweating, terrified, still harder than he'd ever
been in his life.  He had no idea how the hell he was going to be able to
pee, even if he were allowed to take the rings off.  Ice would be required,
he was sure of it.

"Then piss yourself."  Silky tone.  Warm breath.  The smell of Krycek,
faintly citrus, whatever cologne he'd worn. 

Piss himself?  He blinked hard.  Not wanting to ask if he'd heard rightly.
Afraid to ask if he'd heard rightly.

And even hard, his body decided that was license enough, he cramped in pain
trying to keep from doing so."

"Pet?"  Warning tone.

He burst into tears suddenly, let it go, hot liquid flooding the denim and
running down his legs.

Sobbing.

Krycek was murmuring something to him, something soothing.  He couldn't
make out the words.  Unfastening the chain, Krycek let his arms down,
helped him take off the sodden jeans and left them in the pool of urine on
the tiles.

He'd never been so humiliated in his life.  

But he clung to Krycek, sobbing harder as Krycek held him close. "That's a
good boy, Pet," whispering in his ear, "You'll be so much happier now."

And Krycek kissed him, tongue stroking the roof of his mouth.  Deeply and
hard.  Until he could barely stand.  Until he had forgotten why he felt
humiliated.

Until he was hard again in the rings.

Rubbing shamelessly against Krycek.  And whimpering.

Krycek squeezed the head of his cock, pinched and pulled at it, pushed him
back on the bed and continued until he was sobbing again.  Until he felt
himself start to come, slow and painful spurts that nonetheless felt like
paradise.

He fainted, or nearly did.  Lay limp on the bed when he could see and
breathe again.

Krycek idly fondled his balls, tugging gently on first one and then the
other.

When Robbie came back in, he tilted Krycek a questioning look. "Bath,"
Krycek told him, a rueful tone.  "And have Tony come up and clean that up."

Robbie's eyes flicked toward the corner.  

Burning with shame, Pendrell shut his eyes again, concentrated on the
sensation of having his testicles rolled gently between Krycek's fingers.

"And then, we'll need the piercing tools, Robbie."  

His eyelids flew open.  Panic made his heart thud.  He opened his mouth.
Closed it.  Opened his mouth again and closed it.  Finally risked, in a
very small voice.  "Sir, piercing tools?"

"And the tattoo needle," Krycek added airily.

He whimpered.

Krycek's thumb and forefinger separated his testicles.  "A stud right here,
I think," he mused.  "And I have some lovely little gold rings for those
nipples."

His cock twitched, even as he felt panic approaching on stealthy feet.
"Don't worry, it won't hurt that much."  Krycek's eyes were hot again.
Possessive.  "And my name, in Cyrillic characters, right here."  A finger
stroked his perineum.

He shivered, still staring into those green eyes.  Shivered again as Robbie
helped him get up, oblivious to anything but the heat in those eyes.

"Bath first," Robbie said cheerfully.  "And then....we'll go from there."
A low chuckle.

He followed Robbie unprotestingly.


~~~~~~~~
continued in "THE TRAINING OF P" - Part Five
by Kassandra
cassandraxf@yahoo.com