~ 24/7 - Chapter
21:
His Master's Voice ~
|
Beautiful vacationing pic by Mika. There are 2 more great pics at the end of this chapter. Posted 4th November, 2000. Quotation courtesy of my sweet Alex. Standing thanks to Emma. None of this is beta'd. It's far too much fun to take seriously. Many thanks to Phoebe. Thanks also to Ann and Emma for their input re puppies and serial killers respectively <G>. Big thanks to Sergeeva for the poem (yes, there's MORE poetry in this chapter. It's quite scary, but if people will insist on sending them to me then what can I do?) 24/7 is an erotic fantasy and NOT a BDSM resource guide. The truth is sometimes exaggerated, or played with, for dramatic effect. For more information, please visit the 24/7 BDSM Glossary. WARNING: This one is a big warning. This chapter contains graphic scenes of BDSM sex, including bondage, penis whipping, and fisting. Now, nothing's gonna go wrong as a result of a sex game with *MY* Master Skinner in charge, but then he's an ubertop. There's a lot of anal play in this chapter as a necessary precursor to the fisting so don't read on if that kind of stuff squicks you. 24/7 By Xanthe "A truth, still apparent, though disregarded, that J. Winterson Chapter 21: His Master's Voice “The
purpose of tight bondage,” Skinner was saying, “is less to punish you, or
to cause you discomfort, than by the means of that discomfort, to help you
reach a stillness inside, and acceptance of your Master’s will in all
things.” He finished tying an intricate knot, and Mulder looked down on his bound body with a feeling of claustrophobia. Skinner had used rope, and had bound Mulder in a style that had a strange kind of symmetrical beauty. His arms were flat against his body, which was criss-crossed by a dozen or more lengths of rope. He was totally encased in the stuff – from his neck to his feet, and literally couldn’t move a muscle. “As this is the first time I’ve used
rope on you, and as you’re relatively inexperienced in coping with tight
bondage, I’ve tied you in an easy position. All you have to do is just lie
still. I will progress to demanding more of you – including making you quite
uncomfortable for extended periods of time. You’ll learn how to deal with
this,” Skinner said. Mulder
stared at his Master glumly, already squirming and trying to fight his new
bondage. They were in the Dungeon, and Mulder was lying on a large, black
massage table. He was so tightly bound that he could do nothing – literally
– except stare at the ceiling, or, if he craned his head a fraction, at his
Master who, having finished, had taken a step back and was surveying his
handiwork with an expression of satisfaction. “Master…please…I
don’t think I can take this,” Mulder said. “I understand.” Skinner nodded. “However, you will take it because I order you to. You have no choice, little one, so give up, and accept.” He stroked his slave’s head gently, and smiled down at him. “I’ll be here throughout – I will never leave you alone when you’re in tight bondage. If you are in any genuine difficulty then I will ease the bonds a fraction – but I will only release you if you are in severe difficulty. There is no reason for that to happen if you relax in your bonds, and submit to your Master’s will. Breathe deeply, slave – the bonds give you plenty of room to do that.”
Mulder tried to follow his Master’s orders, but, while he could easily have
lain on this couch without moving a muscle if he had not been bound,
the very fact that he was trussed up, and unable to even move so much as an
inch, made him, conversely, want to wriggle and scream. Skinner stood over his
slave, and looked down on him. “You’re
not trying, boy,” he growled. “I
don’t like it, Master,” Mulder protested. “You don’t have to like it,” Skinner purred. “You simply have to endure it.” "Master…you told me how much you hated bondage, when Andrew tied you…
please…you must understand.” Mulder wriggled frantically, but the ropes
didn’t move so much as a fraction of an inch. He was well and truly tied up. “I did hate bondage, Fox, but I learned how to endure it – and I did that because Andrew insisted.” Skinner gave a wry half smile. “Bondage was good for me – and it will be good for you too. If you truly submit to the process, you will discover a kind of serenity and peace that you need. I’ve tied you before, slave, and you did discover such an inner peace, I believe, didn’t you?” ”Yes, Master, but that felt different!” Mulder protested. He remembered
being suspended in the harness, and that had felt as if he was floating. This
felt…like being tied up. Imprisoned. Out of control. “Learn to accept the many facets of your slavery, Fox. Tight bondage is an important part of understanding who you are, and coming to terms with yourself. It helped me enormously.” Skinner brushed his slave’s hair gently away from his eyes. “I’ll place you in bondage twice a day for the next few days. Each time you will be tied for longer, and in more complex ways. You’ll learn to endure considerably more than this. I am not doing this merely for my own amusement – although you do make a very appealing figure.” Skinner grinned. “You know that I’ll fist you before the week is out. Now, fisting can carry an element of danger if there isn’t total trust between the two participants. I have no doubt that if you can surrender yourself to the experience, you’ll enjoy it, and that it will bring us very close.” He leaned over, and deposited a kiss on his slave’s lips. Mulder moaned. “Fisting is very…intimate.” Skinner smiled at his slave, their noses almost touching. “We’ll take our time, develop it into a little scene, and we’ll both be completely relaxed when it happens. While I’m fisting you, I’ll want you to keep still. I hope that after a week of tight bondage you’ll be able to relax at will, and submit to me without resistance.” ”Master…please…” Mulder tried again to fight against his bonds, and again he failed. He could feel the sweat breaking out on his forehead. “I don’t think I can do this, Master. Not the fisting, and not the bondage. I’m sorry,” he said, brokenly, feeling that he’d let his Master down. He was surprised, therefore, when Skinner just smiled at him, and shook his head. ”I’m not releasing you, boy,” he growled softly. “This isn’t a
choice. Not the bondage, nor the fisting. You’re mine, little one. I’ll
torture you, or love you, or bind you, or fist you, or whip you…I’ll do
whatever pleases me with this beautiful body because it belongs exclusively to
me.” He ran his finger over one of Mulder’s exposed nipples, and
pinched it, hard, between his thumb and forefinger. Mulder gasped. “Who do
you belong to, slave?” Skinner asked. “You, Master…but…” Mulder began. Skinner’s fingers tightened, and he gave a squeal of pain. “But…I can’t…” ”Hush. Don’t you see?” Skinner’s face loomed into his field of vision again. “I’m taking away your right to use the word ‘I’, boy. You can make no demands. You can have no desires, or wishes, save pleasing your Master. Do you understand?” Mulder stared into those uncompromising brown
eyes. He knew his Master wouldn’t do anything to cause him any real harm,
but he didn’t think he could endure all the other man had planned, and
yet…Skinner was asking him to trust him, to give up everything, and he
couldn't refuse. “I’ll
try, Master,” he whispered. “Good
boy. You see, you aren’t making the choices, and you aren’t calling the
shots any more,” Skinner purred, languorously stroking those parts of his
slave’s naked flesh that were exposed between the ropes. "This is
always what you've had the most problems with - the surrender of self. You're
strong, and proud, and you fight against what you need, which is why I'm here,
boy. I'm here to make you accept your needs, and to help you find that elusive
peace you've always sought and so rarely found. You belong to
something outside yourself now, Fox. This body isn’t yours; it’s mine, to do with
as I please. I don’t think you’ve ever truly embraced that concept, little
one. You’ve paid lip service to it, but you’ve never truly understood what
it means. You’re about to learn.” Skinner removed his hands abruptly, and
Mulder watched, open-mouthed, as this man he thought he knew, but who seemed
to have turned into something tantalizingly, frighteningly different, moved
away from the couch, and over to one of the large trunks on the floor. The big
man rummaged in the trunk for a while, and then returned to the massage couch
holding a ball gag. Mulder groaned, and shut his mouth firmly. “You’re talking too much. You won’t find any serenity if you do that,” Skinner said. “Open your mouth.” ”No,” Mulder said defiantly. “How will you know if I’m in trouble if you put that thing in me?” ”You can
wiggle your toes,” Skinner said. “I left them free. Try it.”
Mulder wriggled his toes and found that they were, indeed, free. “What if you’re not watching when I move them?” He asked, playing for time. ”I’ll be watching. I wouldn’t want to take my eyes off this beautiful
sight for a second,” Skinner replied, grinning an almost feral grin. “What if…” Mulder began, only for his Master to take advantage of his slave opening his mouth to slip the ball gag between his teeth. Mulder growled, and thrashed his head around, as Skinner fastened it firmly around his jaw. ”There’ll be punishment for your disobedience afterwards,” Skinner
warned, ominously. Mulder could have wept. Now, not only was he completely
naked, and bound, but he was also gagged and couldn’t make a sound except
extremely annoyed moaning. “I’m
going to sit over there and watch. You won’t be able to see me. I want you
to switch off, and relax,” Skinner said. “When your time is up, I’ll
return, and play with you for a while. You’ll submit to that, and learn how
to endure it without moving. As you become more accustomed to this process,
I’ll tie you in far more complex ways, and do much more…interesting things
to your body. You’ll learn to take all of it. Without question. You might
even,” he paused, and grinned, that same evil grin, “Enjoy it.” Mulder
closed his eyes, the sweat pouring down his forehead. He fought an internal
battle as his Master disappeared from sight. He felt stranded, and he wanted
to scream, and move, and the frustration of not being in the slightest control
of his body was making him even more anxious. He couldn’t stand this. He
moved his toes frantically. “A
word of warning. Wriggling your toes won’t automatically ensure release,”
Skinner said, placing two firm hands on Mulder’s feet, testing the bonds
thoughtfully. “I’ll simply check to see that you’re breathing okay, and
aren’t in real difficulty.” He pressed his fingers against Mulder’s
wrist, taking his pulse. “You’re fine, boy, just freaked out. I’ll
punish you for that false signal later,” Skinner promised. Mulder’s
treacherous cock betrayed him by fighting against the ropes that covered it.
Skinner laughed, and patted it affectionately. “Severely,” he added. Mulder
thumped his head back down on the table with a sigh, and gazed at the ceiling
in despair. There was clearly no way his Master was letting him out of this
nightmare, so, from somewhere, he had to find the strength to accept it. He
concentrated on relaxing each of his muscles, and closed his eyes, trying to
drift off. The ropes were making themselves felt. He could feel them all over
his flesh, tight, constricting, keeping him immobile, and that made him even
more aware that he was out of control of his own body. He couldn’t give in,
and he found himself squirming against the restriction. “I
can see you’re having difficulty coming to terms with your bondage,”
Skinner said, and Mulder almost jumped – he’d forgotten the other man was
there. Mulder relaxed a fraction. Skinner’s voice was so deep, and calming, so sexy
and sensual, so full of dark, masterful promise that before long he was
drifting, soothed beyond belief by those mellow tones. They reminded him of
smooth, warm, melted chocolate, and he gave himself up the sensation of
drowning in them, indulging in their rich wonder. “You’re
a helpless boy, at the mercy of his Master. You’re very much loved, but
you’re very much a slave. You have no rights. You have no existence save
that which it pleases your Master to bestow upon you. You are a plaything. You
will surrender yourself, body, heart, mind and soul, to your Master. You will
give yourself up entirely to his wishes, and his will. See yourself as he
sees you - naked, and bound. It pleases him to see you so submissive, so
completely reliant on his will, and word. You are no longer yourself, little
one. You’re mine. You always were, and you always will be. You just needed
to find the strength to be what you always knew, in your heart, was your
destiny, and what you want most in the world. Mine, Fox. Mine.” Mulder shivered in his bonds, alone with his Master’s voice. He was in thrall to the other man, utterly and completely, and all the fight went out of his body. He could hear Skinner walking around the room, and then his Master stopped. ”I enjoyed it when you recited that sonnet to me the other night - and I think you liked it when I said that poem to you, the time I first took you. Do you remember that time, Fox? You were hungry for my touch – you were so hot for me you were practically melting. You were my virgin – virgin to me. I made you my own that night, as I thrust into your waiting, willing body. Do you remember that?” Skinner whispered. Mulder could see the moment behind his eyelids, could feel his Master’s hard cock lancing deep into his body, taking him, making him his own. It had been such a good moment. “Nobody else existed for you before me, and nobody will again,” Skinner said, and Mulder knew that was the truth. “You are my creature, my slave. Mine to use, and abuse, and to love, and cherish, and hurt, and take into oblivion. Mine,” Skinner said again, possessively, full of pride. The bond between them was so strong in this moment, that Mulder could almost feel an invisible chord joining them together. “Murray has a good selection of erotic poetry,” Skinner said. “Would you like me to read you another poem, boy? This time, a poem of Master to slave. I’m sure I can find something suitable. Concentrate, slave!” He snapped, as Mulder moved his head, trying to see where his Master was standing. “Close your eyes, and think of me. I’m going to read to you. Empty your head of everything except me, and the sound of my voice – the voice of your Master, of the man who owns you. Surrender to my voice, Fox.” Mulder felt his body start to relax again. He was no longer aware of the
ropes, or the tightness of the binding. All he could think about was his
Master, and that beautiful dark, rich voice, so full of promise. He heard
Skinner flick through a book, and then the other man started to read. same
house i
know i whispered but
here you are again Mulder
shivered. There was something about the way his Master intoned the word
“magic” that made him tingle. The disembodied beginning of the poem seemed
to echo his own, bound state. "it’s
no secret that
he loves me i
beat it out of him
every night Mulder
had an image of himself, bound over a desk, or chair, or ass up on the bed,
and recalled his own difficulties in telling his Master that he loved him. "he
says I’m only interested
in his butt i
wanted to deny
it but my first
thought is to turn
him over my
knee he
seems to do
everything he can to
get spanked I
suppose if I had A
butt like his I’d
be the same way Mulder
moaned softly. He recognized the yearning in this poem, and the truth of his
own life, and that of his Master. He remembered the many shameless ways in
which he had asked for a spanking, even when he hadn’t realized that was
what he was doing. Skinner’s voice shifted, moved down an octave, and became
so low and soft that Mulder had to strain to hear it. "Quiet
now almost Asleep
he Breathes
as if I
weren’t even here I
move closer and Pretend
to be his dream. Mulder
felt the warmth of his Master’s breath on his cheek, and knew that Skinner
was standing beside him, but kept his eyes
closed, enjoying the moment too much to want to break it. "First
time he Called
me Honey
I Wanted
to pour Right
in his
glass and slide
on down his
throat his
lips tremble when
his pants are
down I
pretend not to notice Mulder
could hear the tiny catch of amusement in his Master’s voice at that line.
It was too close to home. He knew his own lips had an unfortunate tendency to
tremble at moments of impending punishment. This poem could have been written
with their relationship in mind. "naked
at last we
can turn our
thoughts to better
things it
doesn’t take much to wake
him up just
a slap a kiss and
about ten minutes Mulder
felt himself drifting off, sharing the experiences of the unknown sub being
addressed in the poem. His Master’s voice was soothing, just like the image
of honey that he had recited earlier. He hoped his Master would decide to
slide his beautiful honey colored cock down his slave’s throat sometime
soon. That thought pleased him, and he ached to be of use to his Master. "please
let me finish writing
I interrupted don’t
let me disturb you
he said
softly brushing
a bare butt
against the back of
my arm he’s
thin for a
wrestler it
sometimes takes
all my strength to
be pinned Skinner’s
voice was low, and intense, as he finished the poem but Mulder barely noticed
it was over. He was drifting in a world of his own. There
was silence, but it was a peaceful silence, that was like bathing in a dark,
warm womb. Mulder had long since ceased struggling. Now he had started to
appreciate Skinner’s words about losing himself, finding serenity. He
felt…at peace. His Master didn’t speak again, and Mulder didn’t move. He
just lay there, accepting of his Master’s will. Some time later – he
wasn’t sure how long, he heard movement in the room, and came back to the
here and now. He hadn’t wanted that feeling to end, and felt almost bereft
at being returned to reality. He had been somewhere good, somewhere true,
where he could fully experience his slavery, and love it for being what he
most wanted in the world. Skinner had been right about so many things. He
seemed to know his slave better than Mulder knew himself. “All right, little one?” Skinner whispered, gently stroking Mulder’s hair. Mulder blinked slowly, and Skinner smiled. “Good, because now I’m going to bring you back, and play with you a little, and then I’m going to punish you, as promised. Don’t move while I play with you. Keep in mind that place where you were." Mulder
closed his eyes again, slowly, to show he had understood, and then he felt his
Master’s warm lips brush his eyelids, and his nose. Skinner moved down, and
sucked on Mulder’s neck. He stayed there so long that Mulder knew he’d
have a hickey there. He liked that thought. He loved it when his Master placed
his mark on his body. Skinner’s mouth fastened around his slave’s left
nipple, and he sucked on it hard, and then gently teased it with his teeth,
before sinking them into it more firmly. Mulder kept as still as he could,
holding onto that calm place in his mind, trying to stay there despite the
almost unbearable eroticism of the moment. He was his Master’s plaything. He
existed to serve, and if the only way he could serve his Master was with his
naked, bound, gagged body, then that was enough for him. Skinner’s teeth
stopped tormenting him, and his Master bestowed a loving kiss on the tortured
nipple, before moving onto the other nub of flesh. He licked that, as with the
previous one, and then sucked on it, and this time Mulder anticipated the
bite, and tried to steel himself for it, only for Skinner to draw back.
“Don’t think, slave, just accept,” he warned. Mulder relaxed and Skinner
resumed sucking on his reddened nipple, languorously, slowly, enjoying himself
until Mulder thought he would go out of his mind with sensation, and then,
without warning, those teeth nipped him hard again, and held him there, and he
couldn’t scream, or writhe, he could only accept. The bite seemed to last a
long time, and then it was over, and Skinner’s mouth was traveling down his
torso; his tongue dipped into Mulder’s navel, and then down over his
genitals, to his feet. Skinner sucked each of Mulder’s toes, and then
kissed each one. Finally, he ran his fingers lightly over the soles of
Mulder’s feet, and that, thought Mulder, was the worst torture of all. If he
hadn’t been gagged he would have screamed. As it was, he writhed as much as
his bonds would allow. “Bad boy, Fox. Keep still,” Skinner said, although he must have known it was surely impossible. Mulder did his best, and by the time his Master finished that particular torment, he was a sweating, exhausted wreck. And Skinner had said he would go lightly in the beginning! If this was light, Mulder dreaded to think what heavy would be. ”All right, boy. Well done.” Skinner slowly, oh so slowly, began removing the ropes, and finally, Mulder was free. He lay there, dazed for a moment, and his Master looked down on him, grinning broadly. “Good?” He asked.
”Some of it,” Mulder replied, shooting a dirty look at the other man. He
sat up. It felt strange to be using his body again. All his muscles felt
light, and insubstantial – it was the most bizarre feeling and he gazed at
his Master in wonder. “Like
walking on air – yes?” Skinner asked and Mulder nodded, surprised. “I feel…weird.”
”Make the most of it. It doesn’t last long,” Skinner advised. Mulder
looked down on his body, expecting to see marks from the ropes, but apart from
a few reddened areas, which were rapidly changing back to their normal color,
there was no sign of the bondage he had just undergone. He ran his hands over
his body, feeling where the ropes had been. He could almost feel them still
there, but they had gone without leaving a trace. “Good boy.” Skinner tilted Mulder’s chin and claimed a deep kiss. “However, a severe punishment is required I think,” he said sternly when he released his slave.
”Yes, Master.” Mulder bit on his lip, remembering his disobedience, and
disrespect. “I
think that I’d like to create a more formal environment for this
punishment,” Skinner mused. “Go and get yourself a glass of water from the
kitchen, and remain there for ten minutes. Then go to the master bedroom, and
dress yourself in the clothing you will find there. Make sure you look tidy – or
there will be more punishment. When you’re dressed, come back here, and
knock on the door. Then wait outside, until such time as I call you in.
Understood?” He
did as ordered, wandered down to the kitchen, still naked and barefoot…and
trod on something squishy. “Shit, what’s that?” He muttered, glancing down to see that he had trodden on the corpse of some kind of disemboweled rodent. “Damn, that’s so disgusting. Wanda!” he yelled, and the little Burmese cat scampered in, tail held high, and wound herself around his feet, clearly pleased with herself. “Was this you?” Mulder demanded, disposing of the corpse, and then washing his foot. Wanda jumped onto the kitchen table and examined the foot washing closely, and he rubbed her behind the ears. “Murderer,” he whispered to her in loving, sibilant tones. “Ruthless, cold-hearted killer.” She trilled with delight, clearly thinking he was murmuring terms of endearment. “Savage,” he taunted, and she leaned into him and exploded with cheerful pride. Mulder
glanced at the kitchen clock in alarm. His ten minutes were about up. He got
a glass of water, and downed it in one gulp, and then ran back up the stairs,
his stomach flipping in anticipation at his impending punishment. He had
already been spanked once today – his morning discipline – but it hadn’t
been very severe. He was aware that his marks were fading though, and he knew
his Master was kind of fanatical about them. His stomach lurched as he
wondered whether he was due another appointment with the dragon cane. He
glanced down, with an expression of pride, to see the tiny gold dragon charm
hanging from his right nipple ring. He loved the fact that Skinner had
decorated him like this last night. The memory of sitting on the beach,
wrapped up in his Master’s arms, toasting marshmallows, was so sweet. This
vacation was turning out to be one delight after another – although,
frankly, he had come to the conclusion there was such a thing as too much
discipline. He shivered in anticipation about the coming punishment. Maybe
this wouldn’t be a real punishment, maybe it would just be an erotic prelude
to sex. Mulder opened the door to the master bedroom, surveyed the clothes
waiting for him on the bed, and felt his stomach sink to his feet. It was
clear there was absolutely no chance that this would be anything less than a
severe chastisement, for there, lying waiting for him, was a pair of dark
pants, white socks, shiny shoes, a white shirt, and striped tie, blazer with
crest on it…in short, a school uniform. Mulder felt stupid just looking at
it. He also felt 14 years old again, about to account for some misdemeanor or
other with the school principal. While not exactly a problem pupil, he had
gotten into his fair share of trouble. He’d almost forgotten that feeling,
but now he was experiencing it all over again. “Shit,
you’re a grown man!” He scolded himself. “You’re almost 40 for god’s
sake!” But as he pulled on that uniform, he felt exactly as he had done as
an unruly teenager. In fact, looking in the mirror, he saw that the clothing
had taken years off him. He looked impossibly young, and rather sullen and
sultry in a hormonal teenage kind of way. Mulder liked the look. If his Master
wanted him to act a part, and had taken the pains to dress him up, then maybe
he should enter into the spirit of the event. It might make the punishment
less painful. He was aware that while Skinner set up all these scenes, and he
reacted to them, he hadn’t really initiated any himself, or fully thrown
himself into the role-playing as yet. Maybe it was time to start. Mulder
wandered along to the Dungeon, and knocked, tentatively on the door. It
didn’t take much imagination to get himself in character for this
particular scene. He’d been in and out of trouble all his life, with one
authority figure or another – so much so that sometimes he felt he’d never
really left his schooldays behind. There was no reply, so he stood outside the
door, feeling decidedly nervous. He tried to remember to breathe, but this
scene was starting to feel really realistic. After his Master had made
him wait for long enough for him to want to climb the walls, the door
was finally opened. Mulder looked up, and gazed at his Master, and his Master gazed at
him, and there was a period of several seconds when they both tried very hard
not to laugh. Skinner was dressed like the kind of old fashioned school
principal that hadn’t existed for years – if ever. Like some kind of weird
1950’s English schoolmaster. He was wearing an academic gown and
mortarboard, and he looked really rather nice, Mulder thought. Very
strict…and kind of horny. “Fox,
come in.” Skinner opened the door, and Mulder shuffled cautiously past him,
and then stopped. There, on the desk, rested the dragon cane, waiting for him. He swallowed
hard, his stomach doing several somersaults. His right nipple, which was
decorated with the tiny dragon charm, gave a little tingle. ”You’ve
been sent to me for punishment?” Skinner said. “Yes,
sir,” Mulder muttered, trying to relax into the scene. If he was going to
get the cane, then he’d at least like to be heavily into a scene when it
happened – not, he suspected, that his Master would use that particular
implement on him without preparing him for it first. Mulder came to a halt in front
of the desk, and continued to eye the cane nervously. Skinner sat down behind
the desk, and bent the cane casually between his hands as he watched his slave
squirm. He fixed Mulder with a stern eye, and there was silence. Mulder felt
himself starting to blush, and dropped his eyes, unable to meet that searching
gaze. “Why
have you been sent here?” Skinner asked finally. Mulder decided to play the
sulky adolescent for all it was worth. “For
disobedience, and disrespect sir. Although it wasn’t my fault.” He threw
his Master a deeply insolent look, and tried to look as bored as possible. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had to punish you for your attitude,” Skinner rapped out in stern, crisp tones that went straight to Mulder’s cock.
”No, sir,” he growled resentfully. “It really wasn’t my fault though.
I was provoked.” He glared at his Master meaningfully. “It’s never your fault, boy, is it?” Skinner said. “Well, I think we must teach you to take responsibility for your actions, Fox. I’m going to cane you.”
Mulder felt his breathing hitch. “That’s not fair, sir!” he protested. Skinner’s
eyes darkened, and for a moment Mulder felt genuinely worried. “What
isn’t fair, boy?” He asked, coldly. Mulder caught a gleam in his
Master’s eyes, and suddenly realized that the other man was enjoying this!
Thus emboldened, he responded heatedly. “I try to stay within the rules, sir, but if the rules are crap that’s not my fault.”
”What did you say?” Skinner’s body had suddenly become tense, and taut.
Mulder swallowed hard. “The rules are crap, sir. Well they are!” He flung. “Screw you, and screw your fucking rules.”
That did it. Mulder felt a thrill of sheer erotic delight as his Master got
up, grabbed his slave’s ear, and pushed him over the desk. “Six
of the best, boy,” Skinner hissed. Mulder’s stomach lurched. He could
smell the surface of the desk beneath his nose, and the polished wood was
slippery against his shirt. Oh god, this was good. It was at that moment that
the impact of Skinner’s words kicked in and he shuddered – six! He’d
barely been able to take two the other day. However, he soon realized that it
wasn’t to be as bad as it sounded, as Skinner’s cane rested against his
clothed bottom; he wasn’t going to receive the strokes on his bare ass. The
cane tapped on his buttocks for a moment, and then there was a whoosh,
followed by an explosion of pain across his backside. He gave a strangled
yelp, but it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as taking licks on the bare, and as
Skinner wasn’t marking him, he wasn’t hitting as hard either. Two more
followed down in quick succession but the fourth really stung, and he jumped
up, shrieking “shit” at the top of his voice. Skinner pushed him firmly
down again. There was a pause, and then the cane was rested against his
backside again. There was a long pause, and, then the cane was drawn back.
Mulder couldn’t stand it. He reached out and placed his hand across his
throbbing butt, trying to ward off the blow. Skinner held back the stroke, and
gave his slave’s hand a firm thwack with the cane instead. Mulder yelped
again, and removed his hand. “Don’t
do that again,” Skinner told him, delivering the next stroke at full speed,
closely followed by the last. Mulder lay over the desk panting for a moment,
his cock rock hard inside his pants. The illusion of the scene was such a turn
on. Shit, no wonder Murray and Hammer enjoyed having this role-playing dungeon
so much. “You can stand up now,” Skinner ordered, and Mulder stood,
gingerly. “Corner.” Skinner pointed with the cane, and Mulder went, eyes
cast down, feeling thoroughly, and delightfully disciplined. He revised his
earlier opinion. In the hands of a skilled Master there was no such thing as
too much discipline. He
stood staring at the wall for twenty minutes, enjoying the little waves of
pain emanating from his stinging butt; he didn’t dare rub it in case it
brought the wrath of his Master down on him. Then, he felt a hand wrap itself
around his chest, and a large, strong body cover him from behind, pressing up
close and rubbing against him. “Like that?” Skinner whispered, effectively bringing the scene to a close. “Did you enjoy that, sweetheart?”
”Oh god, yes.” Mulder moaned, leaning back against his Master’s chest.
“Could we play more often, Master?” “If you’re good…or should that be bad?” Skinner swatted his slave on his sore rump and Mulder gave a dramatic and not entirely convincing yelp. ”It’s about time you relaxed and loosened up. I’ve told you before that you take things too seriously. I loved you like this – throwing something back at me, moving the scene on. It was good…and quite a turn on.” Skinner grinned, reaching for his slave, and pressing a hard, firm, loving kiss on Mulder’s mouth. Mulder returned it, eating his Master eagerly, and then he started giggling. A wave of total euphoria washed over him, and he couldn’t contain it. He was on a post-scene high. After the calm silence of the bondage, he had suddenly become aware that he was alive – totally, blood tinglingly alive. His body, which had so often borne the brunt of his self destructive streak in the past, had been transformed into a playground, and his brilliant mind, which he had devoted to his quest all his life, had now become a fantasy world, where he could go anywhere, and do anything, and all in the company of this man who had opened his mind and body to these new ideas, and shown him a pleasure he had never even known existed. ”What is it?” Skinner drew back, as Mulder started to giggle insanely. “Fox?” Skinner was grinning too, in response to his slave’s obvious mirth.
”I love you!” Mulder yelled. “What?”
Skinner raised an eyebrow, and Mulder grabbed his Master’s face, and kissed
him. “Punish
me – I don’t care. I love you. Oh god, it’s all so easy. All of it.
Life, the universe, everything. I feel as if I could…” Mulder was suddenly
8 years old and out trick- or- treating at Halloween, sick with excitement,
and unable to stay still. His whole body vibrated with the intensity of this
energy, and he had to move. The bondage, followed by the exhilaration of the
scene, had somehow loosened his inhibitions, and made him appreciate
everything he had always denied
himself. “I love you, I love you…I love this house…I love our apartment.
I love my job, my life. I love Scully!” Mulder cried, throwing his arms
around expansively, and almost hitting his Master in the process. He ran out
of the dungeon, and down the stairs, dancing, and singing. He twirled into the
kitchen, picked up Wanda, and held her in the air. “I love Wanda!” He
proclaimed. “I love all cats!” He kissed Wanda firmly on the forehead and
dumped her on the kitchen table. “I love the sea!” He yelled glancing out
of the window. He was aware of his bemused, amused Master coming down the
stairs behind him. “I love it all!” He cried excitedly, running around the
table with a surfeit of energy, jumping up on it, and then leaping down to
crash at his Master’s feet. “I love my Master! I love being a slave. I
love…” Skinner placed a finger over his slave’s lips, looking down on
him. “Yourself?” He asked. Mulder hesitated. Skinner smiled, and shook his head. “I
don’t think so, Master,” he replied. “I have too much energy.” “And I love seeing you like this.” Skinner grinned. “Careful you don’t crash though, slave. Sometimes I’ve watched you soar so high, and fall back to earth. This time I want to make sure you don’t crash land.”
”I won’t,” Mulder said airily, and too cheerfully. They
spent the evening cooking an exotic meal, which Mulder assured his Master
would taste nice, although Skinner clearly had reservations about the mix of
spices his slave was putting into the food. However, some of Mulder’s
exuberance must have gone into the meal, because it was delicious. It was all
Mulder could do to sit still enough to eat it, and finally Skinner had to
threaten him with deep submission and tight bondage to get him to shut up and
at least try and eat the meal. Mulder got up a dozen times, to get wine, or
water, or just because he couldn’t keep still. He kept up a constant stream
of conversation as well, blinding his Master with his knowledge, skipping over
a hundred topics, his whirlwind mind buzzing with a euphoria that he couldn’t
contain, and had to transmit in some way to his audience. Skinner indulged
him. The other man was looking gorgeous in an open necked shirt, and jeans,
and he ate slowly, never taking his eyes off his slave, nodding here and
there, inserting a comment when he could get a word in edgeways, and smiling
to himself when Mulder went off on some flight of fancy. When Mulder next
paused for breath, he saw that it was dark outside, and the kitchen clock
showed that it was past midnight. Shit! Where had the evening gone? His Master
was still patiently enduring his verbal diarrhea, and he wasn’t sure he was
going to be able to stop. Luckily, Skinner saw the problem. “Fox,
it’s time for your second session of bondage for the day,” he said, taking
advantage of the momentary pause. “Master…no,
please…I can’t be still.” Mulder waved his hands expansively in the air. “But
you do need to come down from the high, boy,” Skinner said firmly. “I
know, but…oh god, please don’t tie me up. I’ll implode if you do!”
Mulder said, getting up, his long legs twitching restlessly. “I
won’t tie you. I have something else in mind,” Skinner told him. “Go up
to the bedroom – leave the dishes, you can do them tomorrow.” Mulder
nodded, still uncertain about whether he could endure more bondage, and danced
up to the bedroom, whistling tunelessly to himself as he went. Skinner was
right behind him, and accompanied the whistling with a drumbeat on his
slave’s bottom as they climbed the stairs. Mulder tumbled into the bedroom,
and opened his mouth to start talking again, when Skinner stopped him by the
simple expedient of placing a hand over his mouth. “Quiet, boy. You’ll never sleep tonight if you carry on like this, and I think you’re tired.” Skinner raised an eyebrow, and Mulder thought about it, and then nodded. Skinner withdrew his hand and Mulder opened his mouth, and then closed it again, and bit down hard to keep himself from descending into more verbal diarrhea. “Stay quite still. I’m going to undress you,” Skinner said, and Mulder nodded fervently, and started unbuttoning his shirt. Skinner’s hands stopped him. “I said that I was going to undress you. You, are going to remain still.” Mulder nodded again, and tried to concentrate on remaining still, but it was hard when he was buzzing so much. Skinner quickly divested him of his shirt and tie, and then moved on to his slave’s pants. Mulder started to hop. His mind was going through a dizzying freefall, and he couldn’t keep either quiet or still.
”Did you know that the earth revolves at almost 1000 miles an hour? When I was a kid
I couldn’t understand why we didn’t all whiz off into space. I mean how
can it be that fast and we don’t even feel it?” He asked Skinner. “I
have no idea,” Skinner grunted, trying valiantly to divest his slave of his
pants while Mulder gesticulated frantically with his hands, and skipped to and
fro, completely unable to stay in one place. “I
wonder what it would be like to be on a planet that went really fast? Or
really slow. Would that make a difference to the way you perceived the world?
What kind of life would evolve on such a planet?” Mulder mused thoughtfully,
holding out one leg and hopping out of his pants with the other. “Maybe some of us wouldn’t talk so much?” Skinner suggested. ”All this movement,” Mulder said, ignoring his Master. “I mean we’re whizzing around the sun and the sun is whizzing around the Milky Way and the Milky Way is whizzing around the other galaxies, and there’s all this energy, all this movement, and…” He couldn’t stop himself gesturing as he spoke, and he thwapped his Master soundly in the face. ”That’s enough, boy!” Skinner roared. “All this energy, and all this movement are coming to an end right now.” And, having divested his slave of the last of his clothing, he threw Mulder on the bed. Mulder looked up at his Master in surprise, and began to bounce back up again, when Skinner suddenly descended on him, grabbed him firmly in his arms, and wrestled him back down. Mulder gazed up at the pair of dark eyes that were literally an inch away. Skinner was lying on top of him, pinning him down, and he couldn’t move. He started to wriggle, and his Master captured his hands, held them firmly against his side, and kept him there. “Human bondage,” Skinner said. “Half an hour, Fox. Don’t move.” ”You’re going to lie on top of me for half an hour?” Mulder asked in alarm. “I can’t breathe.”
”Yes you can,” Skinner sighed patiently. “Now, I want you to be very
still, and very silent. I want you to focus on the sound of our hearts
beating.” “I
can’t…” Mulder started to panic. He had too much energy for this! But
Skinner’s hands were firm, and his body was too big for Mulder to throw off.
He fought, uselessly, against the other man for a long time, his breath coming
in gasps, but Skinner was unrelenting. He held on tight, and refused to allow
his slave to get up, or even to move as much as he wanted beneath his
Master’s large bulk. Mulder felt that same frustration he had felt earlier,
when tied with his Master’s rope, but there was something so intimate about
this situation, with his Master’s face so close to his own, and his hands,
and his body holding him down. He gave a cry, and finally the energy broke,
and he came to rest, silent, and still. Breathing heavily, he examined his
Master’s features – rendered strange, and unfamiliar at such close
quarters. Skinner’s skin was mostly smooth, but a little craggy in places
– rugged, and Mulder found that very attractive. “Calmer
now?” Skinner asked. Mulder nodded, surrendering to his Master’s will. “Was I that out of it?” He whispered. ”Yes. It was nice – but you were definitely heading for that crash landing,” Skinner grinned.
”This isn’t it?” Mulder glanced pointedly down at what he could see of
his body that wasn’t obscured beneath his Master. “No.
This was more of a controlled landing,” Skinner said. “We
don’t have to stay like this. We could have sex,” Mulder suggested
hopefully. His cock was hardening at being in such close proximity to his
Master’s body, and being able to smell the other man’s scent. “No, slave. First you experience the bondage, and then you might be in the right frame of mind to get some sleep,” Skinner said firmly. Mulder made a face.
”Want you,” he murmured mischievously, kissing the side of his Master’s
face. “That’s two,” Skinner said.
”Two what?” “Four
now – one stroke of my belt for every single word you say from now on,
boy,” Skinner informed him. Mulder made a face, and then finally slumped and
relaxed beneath his Master’s body. Skinner didn’t move. He was like a
rock; firm, solid, unyielding, and Mulder felt himself sinking into the warmth
and serenity of his slavery. He had to concentrate on breathing – Skinner
was a considerable weight – but if he was calm, and didn’t use up his
energy in fighting, it was easier to accept the bondage, and breathe easily.
He concentrated on his Master’s ear – which was nicely edible, and the
feel of his Master’s naked scalp against his cheek. His energy seeped out,
slowly, but surely, until he found that place he had been in earlier in
the day. As he had been before, he was almost surprised when Skinner told him
that his time was up, and carefully disengaged himself. Mulder stared up at
his Master - and found he couldn’t move. “I’m
so tired,” he whispered. “I know. I could tell.” Skinner smiled. “Stay there.” He got undressed, went to the bathroom, and returned to his slave’s side. “You can take those four swats with the belt tomorrow morning,” he promised.
”Yes, Master,” Mulder murmured, closing his eyes. He was dimly aware of
his Master climbing into the bed, and turning the light off, and then Skinner
grabbed his slave, and pulled him close, against his naked body.
“Where’d’you learn that trick? From Andrew?” he asked, finding it hard
to imagine his Master being pinned to the bed by his much slighter, more
slender top. Andrew hadn’t been a big man. “No,
from my puppy, Ruben, when I was a teenager. Dogs respond well to firm, loving discipline, just like
slave boys, and they need to know who is the pack leader, and dominant animal
– just like slave boys.” Skinner squeezed Mulder’s buttocks lightly.
“When we first got Ruben he was so wild we had to call in an animal behaviorist. Her advice was to push him to the ground, and hold him there for
several seconds so that he understood who was in charge. It seems to work on
slaves too.” Skinner kissed the back of Mulder’s neck. “I adored
Ruben,” Skinner murmured. Mulder closed his eyes sleepily. “And you,”
Skinner said, just before his slave fell fast asleep, with a smile curving
along his lips. Mulder was wakened by the sting of belt leather on his naked bottom. ”Shit! What’s that for?” He growled, glancing around blearily to find the covers drawn back, and his Master’s belt thwacking lightly, but soundly on his naked flesh. ”Last night’s punishment,” Skinner told him.
”Yowl!” Mulder buried his head in his hands, and pulled the pillow over his
head as his Master delivered the final two swats in quick succession.
Mulder’s morning erection was excited by the sudden, and unexpected
discipline. The punishment was soon over, and Skinner slid into bed beside his
naked slave and caressed his hot bottom. “Also,
I wanted to use you, and I like doing that best when this ass is glowing and
warm.” Skinner pinched it to illustrate the point, and Mulder yelped. He
felt completely uninhibited, and at ease. His Master pulled him close, and
parted the burning halves of his slave’s butt, and soon he felt Skinner’s
hard cock pressing against his opening, and then he was impaled on his
master’s cock, and his Master was riding him deep, and hard. It felt so
good, and his senses were still reeling from the unexpected awakening. He
wondered if this was what it was like for Skinner to be awakened by a blow job
each morning; these dual sensations of laziness, slack muscles, raging libido,
and sluggish, slowly wakening senses. His Master thrust one last time, and
then came, and they were still for a while. “Did
you know,” Skinner said conversationally, resting his head on Mulder’s
shoulder, “that the Earth revolves at 1000 miles an hour?” “Shit,” Mulder groaned. “Did I really talk all that crap last night?”
”Yes – it was adorable,” Skinner chuckled. “Oh
god.” Mulder buried his face in his pillow. His cock was aching, and he was
aware that his Master was still buried deep inside his ass.
“Master…permission to come,” he requested politely, longing to touch his
cock but knowing that was forbidden. Skinner thought about it for a moment. “Permission
denied,” he said finally. Mulder nodded. “As
you wish, Master,” he whispered, so deep into his slavery that he didn’t
mind. In fact, it just made his cock ache all the more exquisitely, knowing
that his Master had this degree of power and control over him. They dozed for
a few minutes, and then Skinner withdrew from his slave with a plopping sound,
and walked, naked, to the bathroom. Mulder rolled off the bed, and followed
him, his cock sticking out from his body at almost comical angle. He found
Skinner brushing his teeth, the shower already on, waiting for them. Mulder
stood behind his Master, and surveyed the pair of them in the mirrored
bathroom tiles. They were reflected back, all around, Master and slave, the one
fully sated, the other with a massive hard on. Mulder brushed a kiss along the
back of his Master’s neck. “Did I mention yesterday that I love you, Master?” He asked.
”Yes, several times,” Skinner grinned rinsing his mouth, and stepping
towards the shower. “Good.
I love you.” Mulder felt as if this great truth was one that needed to be
expressed every day. It made him laugh to think how hard those three simple
words had once been for him. “Shit, how many months has it taken for me to
be able to say that, out loud, so easily?” He asked, shaking his head. “It’s all the more sweet for taking so long. Anticipation is…”
”Half the pleasure!” Mulder finished for him. “You make that damn saying
apply to everything, Master.” “Yes,
slave, I do. Which is why you’re forbidden to come until further notice,”
Skinner grinned. Mulder smiled back, and shook his head. “I still love you, Master,” he said. “In fact, I think now I’ve discovered how easy it is to say, I might have to say it almost constantly.”
”That’s fine by me, boy. “ Skinner got into the shower, and Mulder
followed, and grabbed the soap in order to begin attending to his Master. He
started at Skinner’s feet, kneeling under the spray of the shower, and
kissing each one, before soaping them. “One thing, boy.” Mulder looked up,
and his Master flicked the spray of water into his face, making him splutter.
“I love you too,” Skinner said, bending to deposit a perfect wet kiss on
his slave’s lips. The
shower was long, hot, and satisfying. Afterwards, Mulder pulled on a pair of
shorts and a tee shirt, and trotted down the stairs feeling totally and
utterly relaxed. So relaxed, in fact, that he forgot to check where he was
treading, and once more landed on the squishy entrails of a rodent. The body
was strewn out in various places all over the kitchen. “Shit, Wanda. It looks like a scene of rat carnage,” Mulder growled. The little cat immediately wound her way around his ankles, purring ecstatically. “That’s the trouble with apartment cats – once they get the taste of blood they change,” Mulder said mournfully, picking her up and depositing her on the table, so that she wouldn’t interfere with his rodent mopping up operation. “By day, mild mannered, furry feline, prone to sappy bouts of total adoration, and by night a ruthless hunter. That’s you – barbarian.” She rubbed her head against his waist, still fairly pleased with herself. Mulder opened the kitchen drawer, looking for something to wrap the corpse in, and found some chalk, and duct tape, amongst numerous other items in the drawer. An idea occurred to him, and, feeling impossibly cheerful, he painstakingly drew a chalk outline on the tiled floor around the dead rodent, and then picked the corpse up, and deposited it in an old grocery bag, before throwing it in the trash. He cordoned off the area with duct tape, just as Skinner came down the stairs. ”What’s this?” Skinner asked, glancing at his slave with a bemused expression. ”Don’t walk there, Master. You’re disturbing the crime scene,” Mulder said. “One dead rat.” He pointed at the chalk outline. “And there was another one in the same spot yesterday. It looks to me as if we have a serial killer on our hands, Master.”
”You could be right.” Skinner mused thoughtfully, crossing his arms over
his chest, and tugging on his lip. “Hmmm. Any ideas as to who the
culprit might be?” “Well,
I know I have an alibi for last night. How about you?” Mulder asked. “Tucked up in bed with a naked slave all night long,” Skinner replied. “So, Agent, any other clues to go on? Have you gathered forensic evidence from the scene of the crime?”
”Not yet, sir. I’d like your permission to interrogate our prime
suspect though.” “Ah
yes, and who might that be?” Skinner asked with a definite twinkle in his
eye. “Well, I’ve done a profile, sir.” Mulder began pacing the kitchen floor, as if deep in thought. “I think our perp is almost certainly female – the act was particularly savage, with entrails everywhere, and we all know the female of the species is more deadly than the male.”
”Quite so.” Skinner nodded. “Small, agile, and possessed of a great cunning,” Mulder continued. “About two years old – I sense an almost kittenish mischief to the act…hmmm. Any ideas, sir?”
”None, Agent. I’m completely stumped,” Skinner grinned, pouring himself
a glass of orange juice. Wanda sat on the kitchen table, purring at them both serenely. Skinner sat down beside her, and rubbed her ears. “What kind of animal could do such a thing as this, Agent?” He asked, in a shocked tone. ”Only a devious, unprincipled creature, sir,” Mulder replied. “Utterly without morals, and completely bloodthirsty.” ”Maybe there were mitigating circumstances?” Skinner pressed his nose against Wanda’s and she rubbed her cheek against his. “Perhaps the perp was killing to feed her starving children, or to bring gifts for loved ones who have shown no aptitude for hunting, much to her dismay?” ”Possibly.” Mulder mused. “One more thing, sir. The perp is almost certainly a feline.”
”What?” Skinner gasped theatrically. ”You don’t mean…you’re not
saying that the serial killer is…Wanda?” He picked her up and hugged her
possessively to his chest. “I’m
afraid so, sir.” Mulder shook his head mournfully. “What’s the sentence likely to be?” Skinner asked, tickling Wanda behind the ears.
”Life imprisonment in a huge apartment in Crystal City where she’ll be
doted upon by two adoring slaves, and given every indulgence she requires at a
flick of her tail,” Mulder replied with a grin. “A
fitting punishment.” Skinner kissed his cat, and then reached up, drew
Mulder’s head down, and kissed his slave firmly on the lips. “You know,
Fox, I think that someone is ready to go back to work,” he commented when he
released his slave. “You
know, Master, I think you might be right.” Mulder grinned. “But not just
yet.” “No.”
Skinner traced the outline of his slave’s scar through his tee shirt.
“You’ve done very well, sweetheart,” he murmured. “You’re everything
I knew you could be once you relaxed, let go of the past, and started to enjoy
yourself.” “Thanks
to you, Master.” Mulder covered his Master’s hand where it lay over the
scar, and his heart. “Master, does this mean you’ll collar me
again?”
He couldn’t keep the yearning out of his voice. “I hope so,” Skinner said cautiously. “You’ve done well, Fox, but I won’t lie to you – the test is still how you behave when you’re back at work. You find it harder there. It’s easier without any outside pressures.” ”I know, but I think I’ve turned a corner…um, not that I think I’ll be excessively obedient or anything…”
”God forbid,” Skinner interrupted. “Just
that it all just seems to make sense in my head now. It seems so easy, when
before it was hard,” Mulder mused. “That’s because you were fighting it before.”
”Yes. I know. Not any more.” Mulder smiled, and deposited a kiss on
Wanda’s face. “Master…one thing I’ve wanted to ask you. I know I’m
not in any position to be asking anything but…” He hesitated but Skinner
nodded, urging him to continue, and Mulder took his life in his hands and
plowed on. “Being here, sleeping in the same bed with you every night…I
was wondering, when we go back…can I sleep in your bed every night at home
as well?” He asked. Skinner didn’t reply, and Mulder’s heart dived into
the soles of his feet. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…it’s just
something I want so much,” he said. “Well, it’s something I’d enjoy too,” Skinner said thoughtfully. “All right, slave, I agree – however this is a privilege, and not a right. I may choose to punish you by sending you to your old room for the night when you misbehave, or simply on a whim – because I can.”
”Yes, Master. I understand.” Mulder couldn’t help feeling elated. This
was one of his secret pleasures. It was amazing how something so simple
could cause him such delight. He loved sleeping beside his Master. After
breakfast, Skinner ordered him up to the Dungeon, instructed him to take off
his clothes, and then began preparing several lengths of rope. Mulder watched,
apprehensively. “Will
you be tying me the same way as yesterday, Master?” He asked. “No,
boy. I won’t. Today’s bondage will be for a special purpose. I want to
whip you,” Skinner said, glancing at his slave, his hands full of rope.
Mulder’s heart lurched. “Whip me, Master? Have I displeased you?” He asked, in a faltering tone.
”No. In fact, you’ve been very pleasing, which is why I’m going to whip
you. This will be a very special kind of whipping, but it’s one I think
you’re ready for. Lie on your back on the table.” Skinner pointed, and
Mulder swallowed hard, but found himself obeying despite his fear. “On
my back, Master?” He questioned, wondering where exactly this whipping was
to take place. ”Yes,
boy and don’t question me,” Skinner growled. “You heard first
time.” Mulder
quickly shimmied onto the table and lay there, trying to breathe. “You know what’s going to happen,” Skinner purred, coming over the table, and flexing a length of rope thoughtfully. “Don’t fight it, boy. It’s your Master’s pleasure.”
Mulder’s cock lurched, and then gave a shiver of anticipation before shriveling pitifully. “Yes,
you do well to be afraid,” Skinner smiled. Mulder was shocked by just how
dark and masterful the other man could become when he wanted. This was the
hard, uncompromising Skinner of yesterday, a man Mulder feared, and
wanted to please without question. “Open
your legs wide,” Skinner ordered, and Mulder obeyed, feeling completely
exposed. Skinner bound his slave carefully, and precisely; a process that took
half an hour, so meticulous was his Master. Mulder glanced down at the network
of ropes and found them curiously beautiful. He was astonished by how good his
Master was at tying the most intricate knots. “Don’t
tell me, you were a boy scout,” he commented, as almost every inch of his
body disappeared beneath the rope. “An
Eagle scout as a matter of fact,” Skinner grinned. Mulder
groaned, and rolled his eyes. “Figures. They threw me out of the scouts,”
he said mournfully. “Figures,”
Skinner threw back with a chuckle. He tightened a knot, and then stood back to
survey his handiwork. Mulder craned his neck to see the results; he was tied
even tighter than yesterday – completely immersed in rope, like an ancient
Egyptian Mummy, except for one crucial area of his body that was entirely
free; his cock and balls. The sensation of being tied everywhere but there
made his cock give a leap of interest, which was quickly subdued as he
recalled why his genitals had been left free. His legs, arms, and torso had
been bound to hooks at the end and side of the table. Skinner was obviously
taking no chances of his slave moving. “All
right, you’re done. I’m going to leave you for half an hour. You can call
me over if you have a problem, boy. I want you to spend your time wisely,
preparing for the way in which I intend to discipline you later,” Skinner
said warningly. Mulder swallowed hard, but his lips were too dry, and he was
too nervous to reply. He entered a state of peace and calm more easily than
the previous day, but at the back of his mind all he could think about was the
fact that his Master was going to whip his exposed genitals. Skinner had never
done anything like this before, and Mulder was seriously scared by the idea.
Only the comforting mummification of the ropes stopped him from freaking out.
They also reminded him of his status. He couldn’t fight, couldn’t wriggle,
or do anything except every single stroke his Master decided to land on his
body. He had no control over the process. His Master was in charge and would,
undoubtedly, do exactly as he pleased. It was out of Mulder’s hands. That
thought relaxed him, but the half an hour passed all too quickly, and soon his
Master was by his side again. The big man was holding a small, many lashed whip in
his hands – it was so delicate and perfect that Mulder was reassured. Surely
that beautiful object couldn’t cause him too much pain? The suede lashes
were so light, and slender. Mulder was acutely aware of the fact that his legs
were bound open to reveal his genitalia, offered up to his Master like a
sacrifice, and he shivered inside his bonds. “Close
your eyes. I want you to shut out every single sensation except what I’m
going to be doing to you,” Skinner said. “I won’t talk. I want you to
concentrate.” Mulder
did as ordered, and tensed, waiting for the first blow. When it came it was so
light and feathery that he almost laughed out loud. It hadn’t hurt at all.
It had been more like a caress. He relaxed in his bonds. His Master stroked
his penis, and alternated that with blows from the tiny whip. It was an
entirely pleasant process, and soon Mulder was fully erect. The longer his
Master worked, the hotter his hard cock became…and slowly, oh so slowly,
what had started as little more than a warming caress, sharpened into a slight
sting. Mulder was aware of an edge of pain that hadn’t been there at the
beginning, and he started to moan, and pant. He was unable to do anything to
move away from the insistent stroking of the whip because of his bonds, but it
was starting to hurt. Not much, just enough to be erotic, and to send the
endorphins buzzing around his body. “Master…”
he croaked. “You can’t come, boy,” Skinner said.
”I know…please…” He wished he could move away from those endless
nipping bites that were starting to drive him crazy, but he couldn’t. He was
tied fast, and every single blow aimed at his exposed penis went home. It was
arousing, and maddening, and painful and hot all at the same time. He was
going to go out of his mind on the sensation. “Hush.
I’m not done yet. You have a lot more to endure before I’m through,”
Skinner said, rubbing Mulder’s penis with his hand, soothing and arousing
it. Mulder sighed, relieved by the brief respite, but then Skinner’s hand
was removed, and the stinging, biting caress of the tiny little whip started
again. Mulder opened his eyes, and watched his Master work. Skinner was
totally immersed in the task at hand, and he wasn’t doing more than flicking
his wrist, and lightly whipping Mulder’s exposed penis, and yet the build up
and intensity of those strokes was sending Mulder out of his mind. Mulder
noted that his Master had placed his free hand by his slave’s cock, and thus
tested each stroke delivered, ensuring they were kept at an even, bearable
pace and strength, and caused no harm to his slave.
”Oh shit…shit…please…let me come…” Mulder begged, but the
relentless whip just continued its work, caressing Mulder’s hard, weeping,
hot cock. He felt sure his cock was covered in welts it stung so much, but
still his Master didn’t stop. Now the pain was much more severe; it had
built up to a level where it hurt so much and felt so good that Mulder
wasn’t sure whether it was pain or pleasure that he was feeling. He was
beyond coherent thought. He was just his exposed cock, and the terrible
torment that was being done to it…and then suddenly, without warning, the
whipping stopped, and his cock was immersed in a warm, wet, caressing,
soothing mouth. Mulder shouted out loud, and went over the brink. His mind
exploded with a firework display so stunning and intense that he actually
passed out for several seconds. When he came to, his entire body was limp, and
exhausted, utterly without life. He was aware of his Master standing over him,
busily undoing the ropes that bound him, but even when they had all gone, he
couldn’t move. He was beyond movement. “So,
little one, still so horrified by the thought of a cock whipping?” Skinner
grinned. Mulder shook his head. “Unbelievable. I had no idea…” he managed to murmur, glancing down at his poor cock, expecting to see it had been whipped to shreds. Instead it looked remarkably healthy, if somewhat red. He reached out a freed hand to touch it, and it felt so sensitive that he yowled out loud. ”That will teach you to touch what isn’t yours,” Skinner grinned. “Now, outside for a swim – some salt water should soothe that back to normal.”
”Swim? I can’t even walk,” Mulder grumbled, trying to get up, and
failing, collapsing back onto the couch. Skinner picked up the small whip and
held it out threateningly. “Swim
– or another whipping,” he threatened, and Mulder reluctantly swung his
legs away from the table. They
spent a perfectly nice day, until Skinner decided it was time for Mulder’s
second bout of bondage in the late afternoon. “I’m
in the mood for some beach bondage,” Skinner said, eyeing his slave
thoughtfully. “I like the idea of you staked out.” He returned to the
house and reappeared a few minutes later with a little bag of goodies. He
ordered Mulder down to some wet sand closer to the water, and banged 4 heavy
stakes into the ground. He positioned Mulder spread-eagled on his front on the
ground, and tied his wrists and ankles firmly to the stakes. Mulder felt
stretched – his Master had not given him any slack, and his legs and arms
were fully extended, and tied without any room for relaxing. “This
will test your endurance, little one, but I won’t keep you here for too
long,” Skinner said, retiring a few yards up the beach to sit on his beach
chair once more, and enjoy the view of his naked, staked out slave. Mulder put
his face down on the wet sand, and a few minutes later, evidence of the full
extent of his Master’s devious nature became plain as he felt water lapping
against his ankles. The wave receded, and washed in again, and each time crept
slowly up his body, immersing more of him in cold water on each occasion.
Mulder glanced up at his Master, but Skinner was just sitting, watching,
thoroughly enjoying himself. The water was freezing, but his body was warm
from lazing in the sun, which made the contrast all the more severe. Mulder
cursed his Master under his breath. Only Skinner could think up a torture this
cunning. The next wave lapped right up to his cock, and he gave a startled
shout. His cock was still so sensitive from the whipping that every single
sensation was enhanced a hundred times over. Mulder tugged pointlessly on his
cuffs. He was bound tight, and they were utterly unyielding. He felt as if he
was in a film, the captive of vicious cannibals, and about to be eaten. Finally,
just as the water reached his slave’s chest, Skinner returned to untie him. “You know,” he murmured thoughtfully, as he released Mulder’s wrists, “I’ve always had a yen to replay that scene from the movie, From Here to Eternity.”
Mulder looked up at his Master, and grinned. “Sorry
to disappoint you, boy, but you’re going to be Debra – I’m going to be
Burt Lancaster,” Skinner growled, launching himself on his slave, and taking him in
his arms. Mulder laughed, and surrendered to his Master’s embrace as the sea
lapped up over their naked bodies. Skinner pinned Mulder to the sand, and slid
easily into his slave’s waiting ass. Mulder loved sex in this position –
with Skinner above him, overpowering him, and at the same time able to look
into his slave’s eyes as he thrust into him. Skinner went slowly, savoring
the moment, and claiming several long sweet kisses from his slave as the water
washed over their bodies, and the sun began to sink down over the horizon. His
Master pushed deep inside him, and Mulder convulsed against him, milking his
Master’s hard cock with his internal muscles for all his was worth, and
enjoying the look on his Master’s face as he came with a shout, his
slave’s name on his lips. The water washed around them for a few more
minutes as they lay sated on the sand, and then Skinner withdrew, and helped
his slave to his feet. “Time
for a hot bath,” he murmured. “Sand has a tendency to get stuck in the
most unfortunate places.”
Mulder was woken in the middle of the night by his Master’s finger entering
between his ass cheeks. He opened his eyes blearily, and looked around. The
room was in darkness, but his Master was clearly wide awake. “Keep
still, boy. I woke up and saw you lying here, in the light of the moon, and
decided I wanted to use you. Hold still.” Mulder gave a squawk of surprise
as he felt his Master’s hard cock push home, up to the hilt, in one fast
thrust. He was still half awake, and his body wasn’t sure what the hell was
going on. Skinner clearly wasn’t half awake though. He thrust energetically
into his slave, using him hard and riding him for what felt like hours.
Finally, his Master came with a shuddering sigh of pleasure, released his
slave, and them pushed him out of the bed. Mulder
woke again a few hours later, to find his Master’s fingers once more
pressing into his ass. “Did
you wish to use me again, Master?” he whispered, opening his legs slightly
to facilitate Skinner’s finger, which thrust easily home. “No,
boy. I merely wished to remind you that you’re available to be used,”
Skinner murmured. “I’m not in the mood to use you, but in order to keep in
mind that you’re available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, I’m going to
plug you.” He withdrew his finger, and turned on the light, and Mulder
blinked, surprised by the night’s activities. He had worn a butt plug
several times all through the night, but he had never been woken half way
through for an insertion. His eyes opened wide, suddenly very much awake when
he saw the thick, solid, pointed, plastic object his Master intended to insert
into him. “M…Master?”
he questioned. Unlike the monster dildo his Master had made him take a few
days ago, this butt plug was pointed at one end, but thickened out into an
almost impossible width before narrowing and then flaring at the base. “Fox, my fist is this size.” Skinner made a fist next to the butt plug, and Mulder could see the appreciable difference in size. “I will ensure that you’re adequately prepared – and a little night time discomfort won’t do you any harm. I'd like my slave to keep in mind that even when his Master is not using him, it still pleases him to keep his slave stretched, and his ass filled.” ”Yes, Master.” Mulder swallowed, and watched as Skinner covered the butt plug in lube, and then rolled his slave onto his stomach, and placed a pillow under his groin.
”Spread your legs…that’s good,” Skinner said in a soft tone, and a
second later Mulder felt the tip of the butt plug press against his opening.
Skinner worked it in until Mulder didn’t think he could take the impossible
width, and then Skinner slid it out again. “Allow the muscles to
relax…that’s good.” Skinner pushed the plug in again, and Mulder moaned,
and held on tight to his pillow, arching his back. A sharp slap landed on his
buttocks. “Stop that. I told you to relax the muscles. I’ll ease it in
gently, but it will go in,” Skinner warned. Mulder closed his eyes, and
concentrated on relaxing every single muscle in his body. Skinner pressed the
butt plug in again, for the third time, and this time he slid it right up to
its widest point, and held it there, keeping Mulder’s ass muscles open. “Oh
shit,” Mulder whispered, biting down on the pillow. It was stretching him
more than he’d ever been stretched before, and it hurt. “I
can take it out and try a fourth time, or I can push all the way in now. Which
do you want?” Skinner asked, stroking his slave’s buttocks to calm him. “Do it now,” Mulder hissed, and a second later he felt a wave of pain, as the plug was rammed home. “Oh god, take it out, take it out, hurts…” he begged, reaching to try and pull the thing out himself, but Skinner stopped him by grabbing his wrists and attaching a cuff to each one, before fastening them together behind Mulder’s back, well out of reach of the butt plug. Then he lay down in the bed beside his slave, and took him in his arms.
”Ride it out. It doesn’t last,” Skinner said soothingly, and Mulder
tried hard to stay still, as the pain washed through him and then, just as
Skinner had said it would, gently receded, leaving him feeling comfortably
full. “Thank
you, Master,” he whispered into Skinner’s chest. His Master chuckled, and
cupped his slave’s buttocks, kneading them thoroughly. “For
what?” He asked. “For
making me take it,” Mulder said. “I know exactly what you can take, boy, even when you don’t know it yourself,” Skinner said softly. He lifted Mulder’s chin and brushed a tear from his slave’s cheek where his eyes had watered at the insertion. “How does it feel now?” ”Good…warm, and full,” Mulder said. ”You’ll wear it for the rest of the night. You’ll find that the ache returns by morning – the muscles grow tired of being stretched and want to return to their natural state – they can’t,” Skinner said. “I want you to surf the pain and discomfort. You can sleep in bondage as well. I don’t want you removing anything when I’m not looking.”
”Yes, Master.” Mulder snuggled against his Master, and closed his eyes
again. His cock was rock hard. Despite the unexpected nature of the intrusion
into his ass, he was turned on by his Master’s total control over his body.
He liked that Skinner had woken him for no other reason than to remind him
that he was owned, and he loved being made to sleep with his hands tied behind
his back. It was just before dawn when he was woken again, this time by a
sharp pain in his right nipple. “Oh
shit…” He half sat up, and lost his balance and fell back as he realized
his hands were still tied. Looking down, he saw a clamp firmly attached to his
nipple. It wasn’t a particularly fierce one, but it sure as hell felt bad
when attached first thing in the morning to a sleeping slave boy. “Lie
down. I’m not finished yet,” Skinner told him. “Why…oh god…” His nipple hurt so much but his bound arms prevented him being able to remove the source of the torment. “Shit…” he moaned, moving his legs frantically as he tried to become accustomed to the sensation in his nipple. Skinner held his slave down, Mulder’s back against his chest, and then he started to fondle Mulder’s left nipple with his fingers, playing with the nipple ring until the nipple was hard, and ready. Mulder could have cursed the treacherous nub of flesh. “Please…not that one too…” he moaned, pressing back against his Master’s chest. “Please…”
”Hush. I want you to remember who you belong to at all times,” Skinner
said. Mulder closed his eyes, and felt his Master’s fingers brush against
his left nipple, and then the clip was attached. He gave a cry, and jackknifed
against Skinner’s chest. His Master held him tight, stroking him up and down
his body, murmuring to him. “Ride out the pain, little one. Good boy,”
Skinner said softly, caressing his slave tenderly. Mulder felt a wave of sweat
break out as he grew accustomed to the pain in his nipples. “There,”
Skinner soothed when Mulder finally relaxed into the warmth of his Master’s
arms. Skinner wrapped his slave up, and held him tight, nuzzling his neck.
“Back to sleep little one. I just wanted to remind you what you are, and who
you belong to,” he whispered. “I
hadn’t forgotten,” Mulder retorted, and was treated to a pinch on his
backside. “A
little reminder doesn’t go amiss,” Skinner said, his voice low, and
completely masterful. Mulder’s cock immediately became rigid with need, but,
with his hands bound behind his back, he couldn’t even touch it. “You’ll
wear the clamps until we get up. Just a couple of hours and they’re not so
savage that they’ll cause any harm,” Skinner said softly, tweaking one of
them, and making Mulder wince, and yelp. “Be careful how you sleep, boy. If
either of them have been dislodged when we get up then there will be ten hard
strokes with the paddle.” “Yes,
Master.” Mulder said meekly. He had been considering trying to rub them
against the mattress and dislodge them, but that clearly was no longer an
option. Instead, he relaxed onto his side, and enjoyed his Master’s
stroking. “I
want you to focus on what I’ve done to you tonight, and think about why,”
Skinner said softly. Mulder closed his eyes. Skinner was right. His ass was
starting to ache from the large intrusion. His nipples were a counterpoint to
the throbbing discomfort in his ass, and both melded into a pleasurable miasma
of being owned, claimed, trussed, plugged and clamped. It was a good ache.
Finally his Master fell asleep again but Mulder lay awake, enjoying the
feeling of his Master’s hand on his thigh, his Master’s clamps on his
nipples, his Master’s plug up his ass, his Master’s ring on his cock…He
was a slave to the core of his soul, but a slave to one man only. He knew he
could never belong to anyone else. He could never give himself to anyone else.
His slavery was conditional upon his Master and while with other men he would
continue to be as difficult, bloody minded, and smart assed as he had ever
been, with Skinner he would be servile, docile, and tamed. It was a relief to
know it, and give into it, and to be what in his heart he wanted to be. He
had never before met anyone who could take him on this journey, and, more to
the point, whom he could trust to walk beside him every step of the way, as
Skinner had. Mulder knew that he was happier than he’d ever been in his
life. Mulder
was woken in the morning by a sensation of appalling pain in his nipples. He realized immediately that the source of the pain was the fact that his clamps
had been removed, and glanced up to see his Master sitting beside him on the
bed. “Morning,
slave. Did you sleep well?” Skinner asked, with a wide, knowing grin. “Perfectly, Master,” Mulder replied, without any trace of sarcasm. ”Good. Lie on your front and hold still. I want to remove your plug.”
Skinner grasped the plug, and moved it slowly, and Mulder gasped as the large
middle part slid out, stretching his overworked muscles. Then it was gone, and
he breathed a sigh of relief. “Don’t be too relieved,” Skinner said. “I’ll be using something bigger on you later during your bondage session.”
”Bigger than that?” Mulder was aghast. “I’m
preparing you for your fisting, sweetheart. It’s necessary,” Skinner said,
bestowing a kiss on Mulder’s forehead, and then undoing his slave’s wrist
cuffs. “When will you fist me, Master?” Mulder whispered, scared. Taking that butt plug had been hard, but taking his Master’s fist seemed unimaginable. He picked up his Master’s hand, made it into a fist, and looked at it thoughtfully. Shit - it was enormous. “On Thursday. Take it well, and on Saturday you’ll have that treat I promised,” Skinner said.
”Master, do you think I’ll be able to take it?” Mulder traced his finger
over Skinner’s hand, worried that he’d let his Master down. “Of course. I’ll make sure of that. Fox, before I brand you, or tattoo you, or render you any more mine than you already are, I think we need to push the boundaries of your trust, and the limits of your body to make sure you’re ready for such big steps. Your fisting will be an intimate moment – a special ceremony between you and me. Do you remember your piercing?” Mulder nodded - how could he forget? His Master had laid on the most perfect scene for the occasion.
”Well, this will be similar. Perfect trust between Master and slave. We’ll
be bonded as we never have been before. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t think
you were ready.” Skinner smiled, and kissed his slave on the lips, a deep,
reassuring kiss. “You’ll do fine, boy. Just show the aptitude and courage
you’ve already shown. “I’ll
try, Master,” Mulder promised. “And
I’ll help you,” Skinner promised in return. For
his next bondage session, later that day, Mulder was placed on a mat in the
dungeon, on his knees, and tied in the most humiliating way imaginable. His
legs were drawn up under his chest, and he was tied around torso and legs,
leaving his ass open and exposed. Again, he found he couldn’t move, and he
had to keep quite still in order to breathe comfortably, his nose inches from
the floor. Sometimes he rested his chin on the floor in order to relax, but
mainly he was just aware of his asshole, wide, and open, for whatever his
Master intended to do with it. Unlike other occasions, this time Skinner
didn’t leave Mulder alone. Instead, he played with his ass. At first he just
fingered his slave, wetting his finger, and running it around the rim of his
slave’s ass, pushing it in and out, and playing with Mulder’s hole in a
way that would have been more pleasurable if Mulder hadn’t been trussed up,
and unable to move. Then Skinner’s one finger became two, and then
three…and then four. Mulder held his breath, wondering if his Master
intended to fish him here and now, but while Skinner wriggled his fingers
around, he didn’t do any more than that, and soon withdrew his fingers and
replaced them with something else. Mulder gave a start, followed by a
deep sigh of contentment, as he felt his Master’s tongue on his exposed
asshole. This felt good. Despite being tied, ass up, face down, in this
humiliating position, his Master’s tongue took away all his embarrassment,
and he relaxed, and rested his chin on the ground once more. As soon as his
muscles were loose like this, it was so much easier to just enjoy the
sensations in his body, and he started to drift away. The ropes bound him in
position and when he relaxed against them they held him up, and that felt so
good. The rimming stopped, and glancing around he noticed that his Master had
a large dildo in his hand – larger even than the plug he’d worn the
previous night. He gave a little whimper. “This isn’t a butt plug, it’s a dildo. That means you’ll have to work hard to keep it in place. I’m going to insert it and I want you to grip it. If it comes out before I return then you’ll be punished,” Skinner said softly. Mulder nodded. Skinner gently worked his slave’s ass open again, and nudged the tip of the dildo inside. It was a good size, and a |