Note: For Reload with a <G>
At Her Spanking Majesty's Request
 

The coaxing sound in Mulder's voice would have lured tulips from frozen ground. Birds might have come cooing down at the persuasive sound, but it was not working for one Russian former double agent. Walter groaned as he walked into the dining room. Alex's squeeze ball sat before him. His left arm lay pale and listless cradled to his chest and he had that 'Torture me some more' expression on his beautiful face. Walter's spanking hand twitched, but that device had already failed. Alex would rather be spanked than do his exercises.

Okay, the stick had failed, the carrot then. Walter unbuttoned the button, loosened the zipper of his fly, and adjusted the fit of his very short denim cut-offs to tease to perfection. He tied his tee shirt around his neck and walked into the room as if he hadn't overheard the conversation.

Mulder's eyes roamed appreciatively and Alex forgot to maintain his abused child stare as he took in Walter's state of dress. Then he tossed his head back and said "If you're going to bribe me, Walter, offer me something harder to get."

The little shit...Walter walked over and wrenched Alex's head back against his chest, watching the subtle dilation of the eyes, the swallowing start high and travel low down the swanlike neck, and the quickening breath. "Are you saying I'm easy, Agent Krycek?"

A quick gulp and the eyelashes fluttered. Silken hair teased his nipples as Alex shook his head. Walter slid a massive hand down the left arm, marveling at the baby-like skin and softness. Alex's body shimmied in his grip. Walter captured the ball and folded Alex's hand around it.

"Now just hold it and imagine that this is Mulder's balls. You want to squeeze them don't you?"

Crouching beside Alex, Mulder said, "I think I like this kind of therapy."

"Yeah, squeeze them..." Alex said, "Hard like I was pissed and then soft as if I was gently milking them. God, I love touching his balls when they start to quiver before he shoots. They tremble in my hand and the hair just tickles my skin. It's like holding a bird that wants to fly away. I can feel his pulse all the way through them and they tighten up like a rubber band...his face is so blank but his eyes are moving all over and the pupils are huge as he looks at us, wanting to let go."

Smirking Walter saw Alex was now doing the exercises that would help him strengthen the cloned arm and regain full motor function with it.

Abruptly, Alex shuddered and said, "I'll do my exercises if you take me to bed right now and make love to me. If you want to motivate me for longer, there's something I want enough to put up with the pain. Gonna bribe me, Walter? I want to bribed."

"What kind of bribe?" Walter asked, fearful that the truce between them was going to be broken. Picking up the pieces wasn't easy after the truth was finally revealed. A common enemy, a common past had led to this heated menage a trois. He adored both Mulder and Alex, but it was hard work for the men to learn to trust each other.

"What I want is something maybe just a little different...a little bit illegal, but not bad. I want us to do all do something naughty...I'll tell you after."

That purring voice caved in Walter's resistance. If Alex said that it was not bad, he probably was right. The boy had a sense of right and wrong; it was just that he didn't really know why most people preferred one to the other.

OoooOOOOoooo

Crazy...this was crazy, but Walter loved it. New York Yankees against the Red Sox...every ticket was sold out, but they had good seats waiting for them. First however, they were going to commit a little larceny.

Mulder wiggled his butt enticingly as he modeled his choice; a gray road game jersey with the classic stripes on the sleeves and the team name boldly emblazoned across the chest. As he was only wearing a jock strap, this sent his lush buns jiggling with invitation. Humming the 'Jaws' theme song, Alex popped up and bit Mulder gently on the enticing ass. "Tastes good..." he proclaimed, "but not like chicken."

The batting practice jersey was black so Alex must have that. It turned out that Alex didn't like black because it matched the color of his heart. He liked it because it set off his pale skin, his lustrous green eyes, and his sable hair. He traced the insignia on the pocket blissfully and displayed the name emblazoned on the pocket, D. Justice. Alex snickered and said, "All I ever asked for was justice...and chocolate." Thoughtfully, he said, "I bet we're all good enough to make second string at least..."

Standing in front of the mirror, Walter smoothed the at-home jersey over his broad chest. He had on the full uniform. The fit of the pants cupped his ass agreeably. Mulder must have thought so too, because he leaned into Walter's back, staring at the picture they made in the mirror. He said, "But if I saw some other guy do this..." His hand spanked Walter's ass firmly. "There would be a cat and fox fight in the dugout."

Grabbing the matching pants to his practice jersey, Alex said, "Okay, mission complete. Mulder, much as I love the view, put on some pants. You'd cause a riot out there wearing only that jockstrap."

No kidding. Walter had decided that when they got home, he was going to make Mulder wear that jockstrap to bed. He shuddered as he imagined pulling it aside to thrust inside his lover's hot depths. As for Alex...just the black batting practice shirt and he'd take him against the wall. He could imagine those legs with their pale, perfect flesh over smooth muscle and with that fine down of hair spreading helplessly for him. The sense of danger was making Alex's idea one long cock tease...

"Well, well, so here we have three grown men, who have acted like little kids trying to slip into the stadium free," thundered a familiar voice.

"Good thing that I came back to check on Rodriguez's cap. Which is right here..." the head coach said, knocking the offending object off Alex's head. "Now, gentlemen, do I call the cops or you want me to lay it on you like the kids you guys have acted like?"

Three pairs of eyes, warm brown ones, sea-change-green ones, and soft gray-blue orbs exchanged looks. Walter nodded and said, "Fair is fair. We are acting like kids."

The relish on the man's face took Walter back for a moment. The hack paddle worn smooth from use emerged from a locker. The man's words in the paper ran through Walter's head...

The quote had been: "Discipline and praise applied properly is the secret behind a well-run team."

Shortly there after, three behind lined up in a row as the men upturned over a bench, looking at each other with a mixture of regret and shocked anticipation. They each wore the baseball jerseys they had been about to purloin and jockstraps...white athletic supporters cupping their assets and crossing their soon-to-be-red buttocks as if marking the spot.

"Holy shit!" yelped Alex as the first swat made him jump off the bench.

The speed of the man. He moved down the row like a metronome, beating a rhythm on their almost bare buns. The thumps sounded like ripe watermelons breaking, a sound that was punctuated only by the caught breaths. In front of a stranger, none of them would wail, but Walter knew he felt like bawling. The man was a maestro. Walter was shamed before the delivery, the strength, and the endurance of the man.

Whap. Whap. Whap. You would think he choreographed this spanking. Of course, three men might not be much for a man who probably spanked a whole team. Walter bit back a grunt as a blow nicely intersected a previous one. He heard a muffled yelp from Mulder and a sighing mutter from Alex.

"All right...you've paid for the jerseys one way," the coach said, as he put the paddle away. "Now, shell out the cash and you can take 'em out of here. Don't let me catch any of you in here again."

"Wait, sir," Alex said, in his husky, 'hurt me/ no, don't' voice. "Please? I just want..."

The man listened to the whisper in his ear, shrugged and said, "Yeah, I guess, lean over."

Five more swats as hard as years of batting practice could make them resounded on Alex's already ripe cherry colored ass. Whimpering, Alex endured it for his prize...Walter had to admit that his lover was a single-minded brat. When he wanted something, he'd do damn near anything to get it. Witness how he insinuated himself back into Mulder and Walter's lives.

The couch kept an eye on them for the whole game as they gingerly sat on the hard bench. He wasn't going to let them take their stinging buns home. Hell, Walter had no such intention. His well-spanked ass couldn't stop him from enjoying the game.

Afterward though, he deeply regretted getting the short straw and having to drive home. Who said that beaded seat cover was more comfortable? He was throwing it away as soon as he got home.

As they waited for a light, Mulder plucked the Polaroid from Alex's hand. He said, "You took five extra paddles to have him autograph your ass? Geez, Alex..."

"The picture will remind me of the day even after the autograph fades," Alex remarked serenely. He hummed under his breath.

"You're going to sing, aren't you?" Mulder said with dread.

"Yes, come on, even you can sing this one..." Alex said.

"Spank me out at the ball game,
Spank me in the old locker room
There's nothing like the sound of a smack
and the sting on my cherry red back
Let me yelp, yelp, yelp at my doom,
I almost don't mind if we don't see the game.
Hey, if I get smacked, who else is to blame
For it's one, two, three strikes, you're out,
at the old ball game."

Oh well, all three men joined in and, you know, spanking and all, it had been one hell of a great day...