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

Fresh and clean again, Pendrell was strapped down on Krycek's bed.  White
sheet under him.  Hands and feet spread-eagled, four point restraints,
Krycek had ordered.

He felt.....stoned again.  Robbie and the hash oil.  Which was probably a
kindness, seeing as he was still shivering with fright.  And excitement.

Sitting at the head of the bed, Krycek caressed his face.  "Don't be
afraid, it will only sting for a moment."  Softly.

He looked up.  Blinked hard.  "Please."  Not sure what he was asking for.
Reprieve?  Or ownership?

Krycek bent over him, kissed him, very gently, very deeply.  "Brian, it
will only hurt for a moment.  And you'll be so beautiful."  Another kiss,
tongue stroking inside his mouth.  "If you're a very good Pet, I'll get
you a diamond stud."

The kiss sparked fresh desire.  He squirmed, tried to press himself up
against Krycek to no avail, the restraints were far too effective.  

Another man came in, a younger man with long dark hair drawn back into a
queue.  "This the victim?"  Brightly. 

"Stop that, Tony," Krycek chided, not unkindly.  "Let's get on with
it."

"You want the piercing first?  Or the tattoo."

"Piercing," Krycek ordered, "He's going to need the endorphin release for
the tattoo."

Pendrell shivered again, tugged fruitlessly at the restraints.  "Please."
Faintly.

Krycek put a hand on his forehead, held him firmly.  "Nipples first,
Tony."

He really didn't want that.  His nipples were quite sore enough already.
But they stood up like little cocks, proud and erect, and Tony pinched
them harder, he felt the sharp prick of the needle, a sharp, focused pain
and it was done.  Gold glittered, looped through the hardened tip.
Another pinch, sharp prick, another pain and the second nipple likewise
sported a tiny golden hoop.

He gasped, blinked, processing the pain and the sudden glow of endorphins
at the same time.  Clenched his ass tight, wishing Robbie hadn't left the
plug out.

"Robbie, hold his balls apart for me," Tony muttered and reached for the
bottle of alcohol.  

Coolness on his balls, making him shiver again, half terror, half arousal.
Krycek kissed him again and the sensation of fiery heat lancing through
flesh made him moan, he cried out into Krycek's mouth, felt almost dizzy
from the endorphins, from the hash oil, from the shock.

Tony's fingers were gentle, putting the stud in.

"Oh, nice work," Robbie approved.

"Nice and clean," Tony agreed.  He absently patted Pendrell's knee.  "I
think you're going to have to get his legs up, Alex, if that's really
where you want your name.

Dizzily, Pendrell turned his head, looked down at Tony, blinked.  

Krycek's expression was thoughtful.  "The sling might do." 

Tony shook his head.  "Not steady enough.  You could turn him over, get
his ass in the air," he  offered, as matter of factly as if they were
discussing....the weather.

Krycek's fingertips were soft in his hair.  "Brian, are you going to be
good?"

He felt sooo peculiar.  Hot and cold, excited and terrified.  He turned
his face to the denim of Krycek's thigh.  "Yes, sir."  

Sweet smile down at him, sweeter than he'd imagined Krycek capable of.

It didn't take long for them to resituate him.  Ass in the air, face down,
with Robbie holding his balls out of the way.

And as humiliating as it was, it was also--exhilarating.  He had his face
in Krycek's lap, and Krycek obligingly freed himself, let himself be
sucked, which Pendrell did, quite greedily.  

A distant part of his mind was shocked at the enthusiasm with which he
attended to this, but it distracted him from the sting of the tattoo
needle.  His nipples throbbed, the scant weight of the gold feeling heavy
as lead.  It made his sphincter tighten, he was conscious of the stretched
sore feeling still left from earlier in the day.  From being fucked.

He gorged on Krycek's flesh, twining his tongue around the swollen head,
stabbing at the slit with his tongue until Krycek arched up slightly, his
hand pulling Pendrell's head down further.  He gagged slightly, fought the
reflex and won, took Krycek into his throat.

The tattoo needle burned.  Stung.  Felt hot.  Exposed, more naked than
merely naked, all of him bared to their eyes.  Smooth skinned, decorated
with gold, with the name of ownership, he was an erotic toy.  And in some
deeply buried part of him, desire stirred to life, he felt himself
thickening, hardening.  Felt his cock rise against his belly, felt his
balls drawing up, even as Robbie gently tugged them down.

Krycek finally pushed him away, before he had finished, he whimpered and
looked up beseechingly to see Krycek smile.  "Soon, Brian."  Very softly.
"I want you to see yourself."

"Very nice work," Robbie commented again.  "Elegant, in fact.  I'd never
have thought of Cyrillic."

Tony shrugged.  "It actually adds to the composition, I think.  The curves
match the curve of flesh."

Krycek moved down, made a sound of agreement.  "You've outdone yourself,
Tony."  Softly.  "All right, that's all gentlemen.  Thank you, we'll be
fine."

Fingertips ran lightly over the curve of Pendrell's buttock.  "He really
is pretty," Tony remarked and sighed, turned to pack up the tools of his
trade.  "If he ever needs discipline, I'd sure like to be there." 

A soft chuckle.  "You've got it."

Pendrell, ass still in the air, shivered. 

He kept his burning face against the white sheet until Krycek lifted him,
tugged him off the bed and to his feet.  The full length mirror made him
glance away, ashamed.  Embarrassed. 

"Don't."  Firm tone and Krycek took hold of his chin.  "Look at yourself." 

He tried to obey.  But his gaze kept skittering away from the naked man in
the mirror.  Krycek's tongue traced the shell of his ear, he found his
eyes drawn to that, almost unwillingly.  To the darker tones of Krycek's
skin against his own.  Krycek was tanned.  Krycek wasn't as fair as he
was.

"Look at yourself, Brian."  A proprietary hand stroked his cock, squeezed
the rosy head,  pulled slightly.  "Look how lovely you are.  You've never
looked so lovely."

He risked looking. Saw a man he didn't recognize.  Aroused.  Mouth puffy
from sucking Krycek's cock.  Eyes heavy-lidded.  Almost sulky.
Mysterious.  Cock swollen and purpling at the tip, a cock that looked far
longer without the hair at the base.

Smooth pale skin, a glowing ivory in the lamplight, almost luminescent,
and Krycek was nipping and licking hungrily at his throat, Krycek's cock
pressed against his bare hip, still free of denim.

He let his head fall back, watching it in the mirror, suddenly unable to
move his eyes away.  Wondering if Krycek would take him there, make him
watch.  Maybe sitting on a chair, his legs drawn up, facing the mirror.
Stretched and exposed, while Krycek pumped into him.the images made him
shiver, he leaned into the heat of Krycek's lips and tongue.

The gold at his nipples caught the light, emphasizing them.  It was
fascinating.  Exhilarating.  No one had ever seen him as sexual, as
erotic, before.  

Not even he had ever seen himself as sexual.

He was just another labgeek.  Inept.  Socially backward.

But the man in the mirror was....hauntingly erotic.  Sexual in the
extreme.  As beautiful as Krycek claimed.  

He, Brian Pendrell, was beautiful.  

He arched his pelvis forward.  Gasped as Krycek's hand slid between his
thighs, probing, pressing against his anus, felt the jolt of pleasure from
that pressure.
.
Oh, yes, he definitely had become an erotic creature now.   Paradoxically,
it made him feel powerful.  Strong.  Sexual.  He wasn't a victim, he was
the victor.

The headiness of that seemed to erase the last of the labgeek.  He spread
his thighs, letting Krycek's fingers slip into him, gasped in
pleasure/pain as he was invaded and spread. 

As Krycek nearly dragged him to the bed.

He let his legs fall open, tantalizingly, coquettishly, watching hungrily
as Krycek stripped off his clothes hastily.  Drew one knee up to expose
himself.  

Stared hungrily at Krycek.  God, that cock.  He wanted that cock, deep
inside him.  Reaching down, he touched himself as Krycek watched, stroking
his own erection, letting his fingers slide down, press against the
puckered ring of muscle, too aware of the heat in Krycek's gaze, the
desire.

And then Krycek was on him, kissing him in a frenzy of desire that only
made him feel stronger.  More powerful.  He played at it, kissing and
sucking on Krycek's mouth, but lying passively otherwise.  

Did nothing more than the kissing and arching his body to press against
Krycek's.  Rolling underneath Krycek's weight, pressing upward at all the
right places and Krycek devoured him, biting and licking and suckling on
his flesh until he thought he was going to die.

Stroked seal-brown hair with his fingers, marveling at how good it felt.

Moving down, Krycek licked the seam that joined his thigh to his torso,
sucked hard at it, leaving marks, slid two fingers inside him and pressed
upward.

Moaning, he arched upward.  Krycek.....Alexander Krycek, a god of Eros,
who had taught him about himself...."Oh, God!"  It was torn from him,
Krycek's tongue flicked between his buttocks, hands spread him, bared him,
and that warm, wet tongue explored him.

Something he'd never dreamt of.  Alex.  God, Alex.  The last barrier in
his heart fell away, he belonged to Alex,  didn't his very flesh say so?

That wicked tongue opened him, melted him, turned his bones to water and
his cock to stone.  He felt a finger trace the letters, wished he could
see them.  The burn from the tattoo still lingered, an echo of pain, but
it was welcome, anchoring him to the flesh.  To Alex.

He belonged to Alex now.  His old life had passed away.  That Pendrell
would never have been worshipped like this, Krycek's mouth in the curve of
his ass, fervent and unselfconscious worship.  The old Pendrell would
never have been a votary of Eros.

Sleek ivory skin, gleaming faintly in the light, luminscent, marked here
and there by suck marks, the traces of Krycek's possession.  He put his
hands over his nipples, rubbed them, pulling the gold rings slightly and
welcoming the soreness.  Closed his fingers over them and pinched, felt
the pain and nearly cried out, whimpered instead.

He was melting, turning liquescent in the heat of Krycek's mouth and
suddenly Krycek rose up over him.  "Tell me what you want, Brian."

He stared up into green eyes, brilliant as any polished emerald.

"I want you."  Truthfully.  "You're my master.  I need you."  He needed
Alex like most people needed air.  

Krycek's face seemed to flush, suffused with blood, almost brutal compared
to the usually fine features, swollen with desire and need, like his cock.

And the thickness pressed at Pendrell's anus, he arched up into it gladly,
welcoming it with a cry of relief, welcomed the stretching, the
burn....the possession.  Didn't care if it tore him, as long as it was in
him.  Taking him.  Filling him.  Owning him.

Krycek kissed his mouth again and again, hungrily, greedily, sucking on
his lips until they, too, were sore.  Until he felt orgasm approaching.  

Gasped out the news.  "Sir, I'm going to come," he gasped, "Shall I wait?"

"No."  Almost guttural.  "I want you to come with me.  I want to see your
face again, Brian.  I want to hear you scream."

The very notion, the lust in Krycek's hoarse voice, drove him higher, he
drew his knees as far back as he could, letting himself be plundered, deep
and hard and fast and screamed without shame when the lightning struck,
screamed and tightened down hard, which had the effect of driving Krycek
over the edge as well.

His muscles tightened over Krycek's shaft, he felt the slippery heat as
Krycek's semen filled him, wrapped his legs around the narrow hips and
screamed again. 

And Krycek sagged over him, kissing him more gently, more deeply. Stroking
his shoulders, his sides.  "You're mine."  Softly.  Possessively.

"I'm yours," Pendrell agreed hoarsely.   

More kisses.  And Krycek withdrew, sighing.  "I knew you were perfect."

He arched up, his softening cock shiny, catching the light, touched
himself again.  Touched his anus.  "I'm full of you."  Dreamily..  Let
Krycek view the curve of his body.

Slow smile from his master.  "You *are* beautiful.  You've never been so
beautiful."

He leaned up on one elbow, drew one knee up.  "I know." Humbly. "You made
me beautiful."

As he had hoped, Krycek fell on him again.

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