Hard Licker

by Dr Ruthless


Spoilers for Terma. - maybe....

Rated NC-17 for unhealthy S/M male to male sex.

Beta by Frankie, who has a really bad mind (I'm happy to say!)

For Drovar. I don't love Spender, but I'm starting to feel sympathetic for
him now. What can I say? Alex is a bad boy!

Disclaimer: The characters are at present very grateful that they don't
belong to me. Chris Carter needs to feel more grateful too. They'd have so
much more fun with me. Maybe they'd die young though.


Someone has been playing games with my mail. I don't know how, and I sure as
hell don't have a clue why, but I've been getting some very weird things
lately. There was all the stuff from the Animal Husbandry Committee, and an
entire library of pamphlets about keeping and breeding ferrets in captivity.
There have been countless brochures offering to sell me leather gear,
strange esoteric rubber devices I do not wish to know the uses for (and one
or two that I have been tempted to buy!) I'd have thought that they were for
Mulder, but they come addressed to me personally.

I don't know how they could have gotten my name and address. Someone is
definitely trying to make my life irritating. Things have been going wrong
for me lately. First I got stuck with the X-Files. Why anyone should think
I'd be interested in that stuff is beyond me. I don't even read science
fiction. Then, my love life is a total mess. I'm getting over it a bit now,
but I've been hurting really badly. It will be a while before I get back on

It all started a few weeks ago. I was out having a drink, and I met a guy. I
know. There's nothing new or special about that, but believe me, this is
different! You should have seen him. He took my breath away. He was sex on
legs. You don't see that too often. I was totally smitten by him, and of
course he used me up and spat me out at the end of it all. It took me a
while to recover from it, but I'm Ok now, except for when I get those
brochures and start to imagine all the interesting things I could be doing
with my panther-boy. I'm starting to have a flashback right now, excuse me!

Ok! I'm feeling much better now. I only break out in a sweat occasionally.
It's funny that! I wonder why I should have been so affected by one man. One
beautiful, feral, magnetic, almost perfect.... excuse me, be right back!

Let me try again. As I was saying, I keep on brooding about that encounter I
had. I never did learn his name, but I can still see him, all arrogance and
come-on, standing over me, pushing his hips forward and licking his lips,
green eyes fixed on mine while he...oh God! Just a minute.

I hardly ever cry any more. It's not that I disapprove of tears by the way,
but I can't help thinking that he would despise me for the way I've been
acting. I wish I knew who he was. I wish I could find him. I would...I don't
even know what I would do, but I wish I could have the opportunity anyway.

Anyway, you get the message. No happy ending for Jeffrey. I'm a basket case
over a pair of green eyes and a switchblade attitude. This is not my usual
way of carrying on you know. Usually, I take the lead, I move in, I hit and
then I run. Fuck! I didn't know that it would feel like this.

I promise I won't do it any more. I've caused my own fair share of pain and
woe, and thought them all suckers, but this pain is almost too much to bear.
I won't do it again.

My panther-boy told me to get out of the X-Files. I would if I could. I
don't want to chase ghosts, even if it is almost Christmas, and that smoker
who keeps on popping up is creepy. I didn't have a father to grow up with.
He wasn't around to pitch for me or mend my bike. Why should he think I'm
gonna dance to his tune now?

You'll have to give me a minute, I just heard the doorbell.


I got a package. I'm wondering who would send me a Christmas present? I
haven't seen Mom for months now, and there's nobody in my life just now,
only memories of a quick interlude up against a wall in a seedy part of
town. Open it Jeffrey, don't be a dumb fuck!


Now why would someone be sending me leather.... things? I've seen some of
this stuff in one of those brochures I was telling you about. Maybe I've
been appointed to do consumer research. No doubt there will be a letter
about this stuff once the mailman arrives. Maybe later I'll try it on, just
for a laugh! I think I'd look pretty damn hot! Hey! What if it's Fowley
who's sending me all this stuff. She's not my type. God I hope it doesn't
turn out to be Fowley!

I'm gonna go try it all on. Excuse me!


What do you think? It makes me look a little wild don't you think? Leather
straps and studs are definitely my thing. I'm getting hot thinking about it.
Some of the stuff feels a little strange but it's definitely turning me on.
Jeez, I hope it isn't from Fowley!

Oh, for heaven's sake, there's someone at the door, I'll be right back.

I open the door cautiously. I guess I'm cautious by nature. If it's
Jehovah's Witnesses, I wonder what they'll make of the straps and chains,
the bare chest and leather. Do you suppose they'll try to redeem me or just
run for the hills?

Something down there is chafing just a little. I'm going to have to go back
and adjust things in a moment.

Oh, God!

Oh Godogodogod!

He's wearing black leather. Tight black leather jeans, black leather jacket,
black T-shirt, Black leather boots with silver chains on them. He's got a
bag slung over his shoulder and there are things bulging out of it. I see
flowers, a black handle, some packages and stuff. His hair is short and
spiked, and he's wearing an earring, a silver chain looping around his ear
lobe with a sparkling stone trembling from it, flashing as he tosses his
head. He's leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pocket, and
he's giving me the kind of look that makes my cock stand to attention. Oh

I know! I said that before! My belly is doing flip-flops, and my life is
flashing before my eyes. I'm standing here in the doorway with my tongue
stuck to the roof of my mouth and I want to fall down on my knees in front
of him.

I can't! I've got to get it together. He's not going to tear me up this
time. Why is he just standing there? He doesn't say anything, and I'm
speechless, breathless, and clueless. My hand trembles against the door, and
finally my legs remember to move. I step aside. This is good, this is very
good, Jeffrey! I croak a couple of times, and then the auto-pilot kicks in.
I gesture and he slowly struts in, his eyes busy digesting my decor, taking
in the furniture, the literature, and the stereo, while I'm taking in his
ass. He has such a nice, tight ass. Finally, he turns on his heel to face
me, and I shut the door and lean against it. He still hasn't spoken, but I
remember his smoky voice. I've imagined it calling me sweet names for weeks.
What is it that he wants from me? Fuck! Why don't I just ask him?

"Hi!" Good beginning Jeffrey! Way to go! Now what? "I haven't seen you
around... " Oh Jeez! Now he's gonna think I'm retarded! Keep trying. "I
missed you." For Christ's sake, keep talking and he's going to scream and
dive out of the window. Chill out you asshole! You want him to stay, not
laugh and run.

"Did you now?" There it is, the husky voice of my dreams, sounding like
Black velvet, abrading my common sense. it sends shivers that slice down my
spine like razor blades and snick into my dick 'til I feel the moisture flow
and know that he's hooked me.

I'm a pretty cool guy normally. If I could market whatever it is that he
puts out I would be rich. I don't care about being rich. I just want him! I
want him tearing into my ass, fucking me blind until I black out. I want it

"Are you going to hurt me again?" Oh fuck! Where did that come from? Brain
to mouth, come on now, make sure you're both reading from the same script!

"Oh yeah! I'm gonna hurt you Jeffy! I'm gonna hurt you bad. Trouble is,
little man, you're gonna love it!" The voice is purring at me. I let out a
squeak! My God, who is he? Why is he doing this?

"Who are you? Why are you doing this?" He smiles. It's not a nice smile.
It's a beautiful almost-snarl, with flashing white teeth and a curl of wet
tongue like a leaf, just visible inside the snarl. I quail inwardly. God, I
hope he can't see my knees shaking, he'll think I'm so dumb.

He'll be right.

"Who am I? I'm your conscience, Jeffy! I'm that little voice deep down
inside that speaks to you about right and wrong. I'm something you should
listen to. Listen good! Why am I doing this?" He laughs, and his laugh
skitters over my skin like static electricity, raising the hairs on my arms
and making my cock twitch and leap inside my leather and strapping.
Something down there is definitely chafing!

"Because I can, Jeffy, because I can!" The smile fades, leaving an
appraising look. His eyes move down over my body, and fetch up on my crotch.
I have the crazy feeling that he can see right through the leather to my
dick. I know it can see him. It's throbbing, dripping, feeling his glance
like a hand-job. I feel naked even though I'm fully clothed.

He steps in. I'm still leaning back against the door. I forgot to move. Now
I'm trapped and he closes in on me until the smell of him is heady in my
nostrils and my breathing is seriously impaired. I'm gonna lose it and beg
him to fuck me. That would be tacky. I bite my lip.

"What's your name? I can't keep on calling you panther-boy." That ought to
get through to him! He laughs. This time it isn't a sneer, it's a genuine
laugh. I see real amusement there as his eyes light up! He thinks I'm funny.
It makes his face look so beautiful, I want to take it between my hands and
dust it with kisses. I put out my hands but he knocks them aside. Then he
puts his one hand behind my head, pulls it forward and his mouth comes down
hard on mine.

I moan, wanting to let someone out there know that I'm losing myself in that
kiss. His lips are cool and moist, but the inside of his mouth is hot, and
his tongue slips in between my teeth and probes around, discovering the feel
of the inside of my cheeks, finding my fillings, checking that my
tonsillectomy healed OK. That tongue slides along mine, and I feel it all
the way down to my gut. I put my arms around him, and hold onto him, not so
much so I can love him as to keep me from falling down because my knees have
become so unreliable. I press my crotch against him and feel his hardness
against mine. His fingers press into the back of my neck, and I think of how
tomcats seize their mates. Oh Panther-boy! Love me. Hurt me if you like, but
don't just leave.

He releases me at last and pulls back a little way. I open my eyes, and he's
right there looking at me from about three inches away. I can see the green
of his eyes. I can see the thick dark lashes that curl onto his cheeks when
he blinks. He's trying to hypnotize me with this stare of his. It's working.
I'm drowning in his eyes.

I swallow, and it feels as if there's barbed wire in my throat. I open my
mouth and then close it again, and he smiles his wicked smile again.

"You liked that did you? I wasn't going to do that, but you deserved a
reward for making me laugh." I love the way the top of his nose creases when
he smiles at me. I love the way those even white teeth shine. I lean forward
to find his lips again, needing to remember their firmness as they crush
mine, but he moves back away from me again, turning to saunter around my
living room, picking up books and comics, studying them with interest.

I shamble after him, woebegone, longing for contact from him. Trying to
reconnect somehow.

"Would you like a drink?" I finally think of something, and he flashes me
another smile.

"You mean like a beer or something?" I remember our last encounter and I
blush beet red. He laughs again, and my stomach drops a couple of floors
while I think about him kissing me again.

"Actually, I don't have any beer. I've got vodka if you like?" He throws
himself carelessly down on the couch, and starts to go through my CD
collection, finding one he likes and holding it out to me to put on.

"Sure! Vodka's good. Is it cold?"

"I keep it in the freezer." God! A real conversation. I go to get him his
drink. My hand is shaking so badly the clink of the bottle against the glass
sounds like ice cubes and he calls out that he doesn't want ice. I gulp some
down myself and refill my glass before I go back to him, holding out the
tumbler like a party favour.

"What is your name?" He takes a pull at his drink and gives me a heavy
lidded stare.

"You can call me Sacha." I nod mutely, my lips busily trying this out
sub-vocally. While I am getting used to the feel of my panther-boy's given
name, he extends his hand to me, and hands me a bunch of daffodils. "Would
you put these in water for me?"

I nod and trot off to do his bidding, sure in my knowledge that I'm his to
command. I fill a jar, place the flowers into it, and turn back to see what
else he wants from me. I bump straight into him. He has followed me on
cat-like feet and I didn't hear him. I gasp, and his hand snakes out to grab
my hair. He twists his fist into it and jerks my head back, exposing my
throat to him. I groan and he dips his head, biting me, sucking my neck,
licking my ear and making huge red marks as he signs me like a canvas try to
reciprocate but he yanks my head away, making me fall to my knees. I stay
there, groveling while he considers me for a minute, and then slaps me, a
backhanded slap that makes my ears ring. Tears well up, but it's a good
hurt. He caused it so I would know he's here.

I put out my arms, and after a minute, he moves closer, allowing me to
unbutton his fly. As I open his pants to expose his cock, I know that
something I'm wearing is chafing unbearably. If I can't adjust it soon, I'm
going to be singing in falsetto. His cock is there before my eyes, lying
along the black leather, brown and purple, gleaming like a newly polished
apple, so delicious that I want to eat it now, all of it. I hold him by the
hips and apply my lips to the head of that cock. It tastes of salt and
something spicier. It tastes of lost dreams. I lap and suck as if I'm
possessed. In a way, I am!

The feeling I'm getting is almost too much. I'm on my knees worshipping this
wild creature. I'm performing a fertility rite to honor him. If the same
pattern holds true this time, in a minute he will hurt me and then he will
leave me. When he goes, there will only be the taste of him to remind me he
was here. I've got his prints. I could run an ID on him. He's handled my CDs
for a start. I can find him again, I know I can. The thought sustains me as
I suck him deep into my throat and I can hear his breathing falter. I can
feel his hips starting to buck. He grabs my hair and yanks my head back. I'm
gonna be bald by the time he finishes with me. I look up at him and wonder
what I did wrong.

"Did I do something wrong?" I'm really confused. I only wanted to make you
feel good, my panther-boy. Wasn't it good?

"It was fine. I don't want to come yet." This makes me gasp. Perhaps he'll
fuck me this time. Oh, please, please make it happen. I want him to be
inside of me. I want him to make me his, completely his. He's got to fuck

"Get up!" He yanks again. My eyes tear up, but inside I'm fizzing and
tingling with the thought of him shoving that prick into the crack of my
ass, and I can't be bothered with little things like pain. I rise, and stand
in front of him, gazing raptly at the sight of him, green eyes hazy with
approaching orgasm. His cheeks are a little flushed, and his engorged penis
glows like a beacon, rising out of the black leather. I put out my hand and
hold it, pumping it once and he backhands me so hard I go sprawling onto the
floor at his feet.

"Don't touch! I didn't tell you to touch.!" His voice is gentle but he's
snarling/smiling again. I get to my knees and wait. He motions me up. When I
am standing, he indicates that I am to take off my pants. I close my eyes
for a second, to allow my excitement to die down a little, then I start to
take off the leather. He takes another pull at his drink and turns back to
me, looking me up and down as I strip. I stand before him, my lust obvious
as my erection threatens to explode. He looks down, and then he laughs
again. His laughter is infectious. I'm not sure what's so funny, but I'm
tempted to join in.

"Spender, you dork! That's on upside down!" He indicates the strange rubber
ring thing that has been causing me such discomfort. I wonder if it will
actually come off while I'm in this state. I needn't worry, he grabs it and
rips it off. I double up and collapse neatly at his feet. After a minute or
two, the pain subsides and I am able to stagger upright once more.

His tongue pushes pinkly out between his lips, and licks around them. He
reaches his hand down to jerk at my cock, tugging me the way he wants me to
go, which is into my kitchen. He picks up the vodka bottle and takes a swig,
and remembering the last time we met I hastily find him a glass, fill it and
put that bottle back into the freezer. No thank you!

He drinks again, and then pulls me in for another kiss, his lips hard on
mine, the vodka flowing from his mouth to mine, adding a stinging kick to my
already thrilling stomach. My knees threaten to buckle and I lean into him
as he tongues me and invades my mouth. He is pressing me up against the
counter top, and I feel his erection slick against mine. He pulls away. I
cry out, I don't know what I said but he sneers a little and pinches my
nipple, digging in painfully and twisting.

"I only laughed twice, little man. You have to earn it if you want more."
He's so close. I can take him, I know I can. I grab hold of his shoulders,
pulling him into me, and all of a sudden I'm on the ground, face down as he
kneels on my back. He has his arm around my throat and he's leaning
backwards hard enough to give me the idea. One more millimeter of pressure
and I'm dead. I can't die until after he fucks me. OK, so maybe I can't take
him. I'm choking, and he's breathing in my ear. The sensation is amazing. I
would certainly not have figured my present situation as sensual, but the
cold lino floor on my poor, desperate penis, the feel of his breath in my
ear, his hand squeezing my neck and my muscles screaming in outrage as I
assume a position only ever reached by the most mystical of yogis, is almost
too much to bear. Then he bites me. He bites my neck, my ear, and my cheek.
I can do nothing to help myself.

"I told you before, you don't get to choose. You only get to obey." He
abruptly drops my neck, and my face comes into contact with the floor. He
reaches under my vest to scratch my back with casual ferocity, and then,
still kneeling on me I feel him moving, and know he is removing his belt.

The first touch of that belt is delicate, he trails it along the backs of my
knees, up my thighs toward my ass, and I'm quivering in anticipation. He
shoves one knee between mine, spreading my legs and I open for him gladly.
Will he? Oh my God, will he?

The first blow stings. He aims it between my thighs, and the end of the belt
lovingly curls around my balls. I close my eyes, clench my teeth and hold
on. Maybe he'll think I'm worthy. The second blow is close to the first.
This time my breath hisses out involuntarily. He hears me and takes time to
caress the inside of my thighs, following the path taken by the belt. His
fingers draw fire behind them, and I moan. There is a pause. I don't know
what he's doing, but I feel him moving. Then comes the third blow.

This time I can't help myself, I let out a small sound, and again, he
strokes where the lash has gone. His hand strays along my inner thigh up to
my ass, and his fingers, now wet with something, pierce my ass and plunge
inside carrying the burning joy of a brand within me. My dick leaps and I am
suddenly very close to coming. I moan.

"Very good, Jeffy, very good indeed. I told you that you would like it."
Removing those fingers of his, he prompts me and I roll over, penis
straining up at him, my dignity gone forever. I look at him with his angel
face, and the unholy eyes that glow within it and I bite my lip until it
bleeds to stop my mouth from begging and pleading with him to end it, end it
and fuck me now.

He gives me three quick lashes with his belt, raising welts across my belly,
across my prick and down to the crease of my thighs. His eyes bore into my
soul and I know he hears my thoughts as they spin through my consciousness.
He's smiling at me. He approves of me. I wriggle like a puppy who has been
praised. Love me, fuck me, kill me if you like but love me first. He grabs
me by the cock and works the skin back and forth with slippery fingers. I
close my eyes and moan with the electric pleasure of it. He releases me and
I feel a slap to my cheek. My eyes fly open.

"That's better, little man. Keep those baby-blues open. You want to see
what's happening don't you?" I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and he
leans down to kiss me briefly before biting into my lower lip. I can't help
myself, I cry out then and he laughs, my blood on his lips. He grabs his
glass and offers me a drink. The alcohol makes my torn lip smart. Turning
the glass, he deliberately licks it clean and then takes his own mouthful
before leaning down and taking my cock into his mouth. That does it! I

I scream and howl, and I'm coming. Oh God I'm coming and it hurts me, hurts
bad, oh it feels so good it's wonderful and he sucks me dry as I arch up to
him, my eyes fixed on his face, penis spurting into his mouth and my balls
turning themselves inside out.

I'm totally limp. The alcohol on the head of my cock makes it sing with

"There! That should be sterile, don't you think?" He's grinning that
supercilious, smirky grin at me, like I should be congratulating him for
being clever. My voice has gone on strike again. I'm totally unable to give
him the praise he wants. I'm a sacrifice and just bleeding for him should be

He gets up, pulling at my now rapidly deflating prick, forcing me to rise
with him and pushing me to lean forward against the kitchen counter beside
the sink. The daffodils are peeking their yellow heads from the basin like
so many churchgoing ladies in bonnets. I wonder if they should see this.
Sacha drains his glass, and places it tenderly in the sink, and then his
slippery fingers are toying with my ass, parting the cheeks and dipping in
and out of my asshole, finding the prostate inside there and fingering it,
giving me silvery bursts of delight as he gets into the ryhthm of it. I
don't think I can come like that twice in one day. I don't think I can come
like that ever again! This feels nice though.

He crooks a finger in there and a little explosion of delicious tingling
shoots through my cock and hey, what do you know, it's awake! He pulls his
fingers free and I whimper.

"Please, oh please..." He slaps my butt sharply.

"What? What do you want?" His face is very close to my ear, and his voice is
purring, growling, wild honey trickling in my ear.

"Oh God! I want you to fuck me. Please fuck me!" He laughs shortly and I
feel his penis shove against my ass. It's big, much bigger than the fingers,
and I lean down onto it, shouting as it pushes past the tightness of the
muscle there and slips into my channel. I'm bursting! He fills me so snugly
I want to cry with the joy of it. He's right inside me. He presses up
against my back and reaches around to hold onto my hip for balance. I can
feel his balls against my legs, and he leans down to bite the back of my
neck. I yell again. I don't know what I say, but he 's suddenly thrusting,
slamming into me, and I'm pushing back onto him, and in a heartbeat I hear
his breath hiss. He grunts once as he shoves me hard up against the counter.
I feel him spurting, and his cock pulses inside me. I want to hold him to
me, kiss him and pet him. I want to call him sweet names while he's lying
spent on my breast, but I know he won't permit that, so I hold only my

I'm lying forward resting my head on my arms, eyes closed, savouring what I
know are the final moments of this monstrous intimacy. I'm trying to decide
when it was that I became a grovelling fool. I feel him pull away from me
and shudder at the loss of him. He is moving around, doing up his pants I
guess. I remain still, savouring the memory of his warmth against my
buttocks, not wanting to lose the feeling quite yet. His hand returns to my
ass once more and I feel his fingers slide into me again. He presses me
open, and I spread my legs to help him. I'm helpless with love.

He has something he's inserting into me. Its' cold and wet. .A trickle of
moisture runs down the inside of my thigh but I remain quiet, waiting for
his prompt. He calls to me gently instead of manhandling me, and I raise my
head at last, surprised at his sudden gentleness. I attempt a smile. I know
it's all wrong and maybe will look scary. My lips are stiff with blood and
my face is not the best looking anyway, but I try, for him.

There is a click and a flash. He's got a camera! Then another flash causes
dark suns to explode inside my eyes. I am confused. He fumbles with his bag,
tousles my hair and then he's gone. I hear the door snick closed behind him.
Reaching down, I probe to feel what it is he's put in my ass this time.

Oh, God! Daffodils!