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The Still of Your Hand

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"Mulder, no." That had been her reaction the first time he asked. "It's too dangerous. The risk of cardiac arrest, of brain damage-"

She wasn't un interested... the risk was just too high. Choking him -- depriving his brain of oxygen, for any length of time -- was not worth the risk,  no matter the thrill factor.

Mulder had pouted, but she'd stood firm. And that had been the end of it - or so she thought.

A few weeks later, she comes home very early from a day out with her mother, intending to surprise him. She fully expects to find him buried in a case file or watching one of his old movies; she doesn’t expect to find him sprawled on their bed, one hand jerking himself off while the other is wrapped firmly around his throat.

"Mulder," she snaps. Her mind suddenly recalls Clyde Bruckman's words - “but I can’t think of a more undignified way than autoerotic asphyxiation...”  

Mulder’s hands fall away from his body instantly, and he gives her a look very reminiscent of a little boy who'd just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Breathing heavily, he watches her, not daring to move. That voice meant 'obey, or you're-not-coming-for-a-month type consequences' , and he doesn’t intend to invoke those consequences if he can help it.

She doesn’t scold him, though, or interrogate him; he’s an adult, not a child. She simply asks, "Why?"

He explains to her, guilty puppy dog eyes out the whole time, that it feels good. He doesn’t do it often, he swears, but he'd done it with Phoebe, so he knew it could feel good; he wanted to try it in a safer environment to see if it could feel even better.

She almost shuts the whole issue down again when she hears that woman's name; almost anything Phoebe had tried with him had scared him off it for good. But it seemed that the desire was coming from a healthy place - wanting to feel good, rather than wanting to harm himself.

So, she caves.  "Okay."

Mulder perks up. "Okay?"

Scully nods. "Doing it with me will be safer than doing it on your own." She fixes him with a stern look. "But I need to do some research before we try it. You will not try it again on your own. Do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am," Mulder agrees immediately.

"Good boy," Scully praises, crossing the room to stand next to the bed. "Now, where were you?"

"Scully?" Mulder breaks character, confused.

"You were touching yourself," she reminds him. "You always make the prettiest noises when you touch yourself... when you can breathe. I want to hear them now."

They don't have a no-touching rule, but she might consider implementing one in the future, just to make sure she can hear those noises every time he makes them.

"Touch yourself for me, Mulder."

Mulder gulps, sliding one hand up to touch his erection. It had been flagging since Scully interrupted, but is now considerably more interested. He strokes it back to full hardness.

Scully leans down, breath tickling his ear. "If you put on a good enough show for me, I might even let you come."

Mulder whimpers, hand picking up the pace.

--

Wanting to be as safe as possible, Scully takes her time doing research.

The first several sources she reads say there's no safe way to practice breathplay and essentially call the reader crazy for wanting to put the potential for pleasure over the risk to their health. 

The following few sources emphasize that there is no completely safe way to do it but that there may be ways that are safer than others. One suggests a "blood choke" - putting enough pressure on the carotid arteries to cut off blood flow while not putting pressure on the rest of the neck - is the safest method; another suggests using a gas mask and putting a hand over the vent(s). Still another suggests putting a wet cloth over the person’s nose and mouth to make it harder to breathe. 

But, eventually, Scully comes to the conclusion that covering the nose and mouth with a hand is the “safest” method; it still restricts airflow, so the effect is the same as the other methods while being able to bypass all of the additional risks associated choking. There are too many delicate structures in the neck for choking to be the safest method. She also figures training Mulder to hold his breath for longer might further mitigate some of the risks.

Armed with that, Scully sets about planning the scene and how to train Mulder’s ability to hold his breath.

--

“Scully, please,” Mulder whines, breathier than he’d like to admit.

“Awww, baby,” Scully says, faux-sympathy in her voice. “Do you want to come?” She teases, dragging her fingers up his thigh, stopping just short of the crease. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Mulder pants, just barely resisting the urge to shift his hips so her fingers would touch him where he wants them to. “Please, I need it. I’ve been good.” 

Last night, she’d called him and told him to be at her apartment no later or earlier than 10 AM the following day; she had a scene planned for them, and it was going to take all day. 

When he arrived, she’d welcomed him in, fed him, and let him know that today was the day they were going to incorporate breathplay into a scene - but that when was going to be a surprise, and they were going to have some fun first. 

She’s been edging him and herself ever since; herself because she wants to minimize the amount of time Mulder’s air is cut off, and him simply because she loves the way he begs.

“Hmmm,” Scully hums, pretending to consider. “You have been good for me today, Mulder,” she agrees. “But you haven’t made me come yet…” she can see him bite back a retort -- probably something like ‘you haven’t let me make you come yet’ -- and strokes his cheek again, proud that he didn’t say it. “And we haven’t come to the main event yet.” 

She watches his face twist into confusion, mouthing ‘main event?’ to himself before he remembers, perking up again with renewed interest. “Now?” He asks eagerly.

“Soon,” Scully chuckles. 

Swinging her leg over his, she slowly grinds herself down on his thigh, leaving a trail of her wetness in her wake as she slides up toward his groin with every thrust. 

As she reaches the apex of his thigh, her own leg nestled against his balls and her wetness tantalizingly close to his neglected cock, Scully feels the heat building low in her belly. Just in time, too, she thinks as Mulder whines again, high and needy. 

“Soon,” she whispers, smiling. 

Finally, she swings her leg again to land outside of his other thigh, hovering just above his cock, and then... she settles on his stomach, her center firmly out of reach of where he wants it most. Mulder groans in frustration. 

Scully chuckles again. “Aww, baby, I know. I had you there.” 

She pets his hair for a moment, enjoying the glazed-over look in his eyes, before tightening her hand into a fist and tugging - not enough to really hurt, just enough to get his attention unequivocally. And it does. Mulder blinks up at her, eyes clearer. 

“Okay, Mulder, this is how it’s going to work.” 

Now that she has his attention, she returns to stroking his hair.

“In a minute, I’m going to sit on your face, and you’re going to make me come. You won’t be able to breathe until I come. Do you understand?”

Mulder nods, eyes wide. Scully notes the hitch in his breath as he processes her words.

“Good,” she praises. “After, when you’ve caught your breath, I’m going to ride your cock, and you’re going to make me come again. After that, I will let you come.” 

His hands twitch at his sides, but he keeps them there. 

Scully leans in close, almost nose-to-nose with him. “But, when you’re close, you will tell me. I’ll put my hands over your nose and mouth. If you don’t come within 30 seconds, I’ll let go, and you won’t get another chance tonight. Do you understand and want all of that?”

Mulder nods again. 

“I need a verbal confirmation, Mulder,” Scully says sternly.

“Yes ma’am.” 

“Good boy.” 

Scully kisses his cheek, grinding herself down on his stomach once before turning around and maneuvering herself into place. Her thighs straddle his head, hips hovering above his face as her hands rest on the bed on either side of his neck. 

Then, Scully reaches up and rests her palms on his throat, letting her fingers curl and press inward. She’s not pressing hard enough to restrict his blood flow - just enough to remind him where to put his hands and to be able to feel his pulse underneath her fingertips.

Obediently, he wraps his fingers around her wrists. 

This way, she has two safeguards; if his grip slackens, or she feels his pulse quicken or slow, she’ll stop immediately. 

She takes a few moments to rub her clit and get herself closer to the edge before lowering herself down slowly. Mulder immediately wraps his lips around her swollen nub, suckling eagerly. 

Gasping, Scully rocks her hips, grinding down. He opens his mouth, using the flat of his tongue to lick a fat stripe from her clit all the way to her center and back again. Repeating the movement urgently, he works her closer, closer, closer. Her thighs start to tighten around his head as she resists the urge to throw her own head back. 

Finally, just as she sees Mulder’s chest start to heave, his lips find her clit again, and the suction pushes her over the edge with a shout. 

She lets him suck for a second longer before pushing off of him, landing on her side so she can watch him suck air back in as she rides out the aftershocks. 

“Good boy,” she praises as soon as she can form words again, stroking his thigh. 

He responds with something close to a whine; a high, needy sound, accompanied by a bucking of his hips he seems helpless to control. 

The lack of a verbal response concerns her. Heart rate picking up again, she sits up quickly and straddles his stomach in the same place as earlier, taking stock of him. She panics a little when she notices his glazed-over eyes, but is relieved to feel his pulse is only a little fast. 

“Mulder,” she says firmly, patting his cheek. “Mulder, say something.” 

The order snaps Mulder into focus. “‘m okay,” he insists. “Intense.” 

She strokes his hair. “Good intense or bad intense?” 

“Good,” comes the articulate response. 

Scully smiles. “Good.” She rechecks his pulse, pleased to find it mostly back to normal. “Ready to continue?” 

Mulder’s expression pinches, his pulse starting to race under her fingers again. “I’m sorry,” he says, refusing to meet her gaze. 

Scully frowns. “Mulder, what is it?” She grips his jaw and guides his gaze back to hers. “Tell me.”

“I already came,” he admits, shamefaced. “I disobeyed you.” 

She glances down, noticing the white globs of cum on his stomach for the first time. Oh. Subspace is one hell of a drug; she needs to intervene before he goes into sub drop. 

“Mulder, baby,” she says, soothingly, stroking his cheek until he looks at her again, “it’s okay. It was our first time trying that, and it ended up being more intense than either of us thought it would be. I’m not mad.” 

“You’re not?” Mulder says in a small voice. 

“I’m not,” Scully promises. “You responded to me when I asked you to, and we’re talking now. You’re doing so well, angel. I’m proud of you.” 

Looking slightly mollified, Mulder reaches his arms up toward her in a ‘cuddle me’ gesture, with puppy eyes to match.

“One second, baby.” She soothes his pout when she gets up rather than snuggling in. “I’m going to get you some water,” she says, tucking him under the blanket before hurrying out of the room. 

Scully grabs a few bottles of water out of the fridge, glad she bought the expensive kind that came with straws. 

Back inside the room, Mulder visibly perks up when he sees her, as if she’d been gone for hours rather than mere minutes. Scully puts the water on the nightstand, taking a moment to prop herself up against the headboard before arranging Mulder so his head is pillowed on her chest before tucking them both under the comforter.

With them both situated to her satisfaction, Scully reaches over to grab a water bottle, bending the straw and pressing it to Mulder’s lips. “Drink,” she instructs, praising him when he starts to sip obediently. 

Once he’s downed two of the bottles, she sets them aside and wraps her arms around him, whispering praises in his ear. 

They must fall asleep because when Scully blinks her eyes open next, the light from the sun is almost out of the room. She looks down at the man snoozing peacefully on her chest, heart aching with the amount of trust he put and is still putting in her. 

She has to close her eyes against the sudden rush of guilt that threatens to overwhelm her as she remembers the scene; the panic she’d felt when she’d seen his eyes glazed over, even though he’d still been breathing. God, what if she’d--

“I can hear you spiraling.” Mulder’s voice, heavy with sleep, breaks her from her thoughts. “Stop that.” He punctuates the statement by squeezing her waist where his arm is slung around it. 

“Mulder, that could’ve gone so wrong...” she starts.

“But it didn’t,” Mulder cuts her off, sitting up to look her in the eyes. “You noticed something was off and you paused the scene to check in on me. And when I freaked out, you stopped the scene entirely to take care of me and make sure I was okay. You were a good Dom,” he says firmly. “This was something I wanted, and you did it better than I could’ve asked for. Thank you.” 

Scully opens her mouth to protest, but he presses a kiss to it before pulling back and fixing her with a firm look. “Okay,” she settles on eventually. “Okay. It was good for you?” 

“Yes,” Mulder says without hesitation.

“Good.” Scully nods, blowing out a relieved breath. “It was good for me, too,” she admits, smiling shyly. 

“I noticed,” he teases, recalling the way he’d been able to see her body shake even as she fell away from him and he was trying to pull oxygen back into his system. 

She laughs, a blush tinting her cheeks before her face settles into a more serious expression. “So: breathplay. Is it something you want to try again in the future?”

Mulder smiles. “Definitely.” He considers for a moment. “But maybe without the edging beforehand, next time. I think that’s what made it so intense this time.”

Scully nods. “Noted.” 

Mulder smiles again, moving to settle back into a cuddle, but she stops him halfway. “Do you want to... pick up where we left off, earlier?” She asks, giving him a mischievous look.

He cocks his head, confused.

“Without the breathplay,” she clarifies, slipping into her role effortlessly as she rubs her palm up his chest. “You were so good for me. I want to give you a reward.”

Mulder breathes in sharply as her fingers graze his nipple, cock twitching under the sheets. “Yes, please,” he requests. 

In the time between breaths, Scully flips Mulder onto his back, straddling his chest as she had earlier. Leaning down, she purrs in his ear, “so here are the rules...”