~ 24/7 - Part 25: The Branding ~
Pic by JenR
Many thanks to JenR for the branding iron graphic <g>
|
Well, I managed to get this one in under the wire, just before it became a year since the last chapter was posted. I did promise that I would try to finish this series in my July 4 update last year, and I'm still hoping to keep that promise - there's one more chapter left after this one. This series is close to my heart and I have always appreciated the phenomenal response it has generated and the generosity of its fans with your wonderful feedback, friendly emails, specially adapted teddy bears <g>, pics, poems etc etc <g> I want to say thank you by finishing the series if I can :-) This chapter has a bit of everything 24/7 in it - armloads of angst, reams of relationship stuff, several steamy sex scenes, a punishing amount of BDSM action, lashings of Master/slave love, and not just one but several guest appearances by everyone's favourite cat. This chapter is the longest thus far, at around 60,000 words, so kick back, get yourself a nice cold drink, find yourself a warm slave to rest your feet on, and start reading... Oh, and please don't forget to fling me a crumb or two of feedback when you're done!!!! THIS CHAPTER IS SPLIT INTO TWO PARTS FOR EASE OF POSTING BECAUSE IT'S SO LONG - THE LINK TO PART TWO IS AT THE END OF THIS CHAPTER I've created a 24/7 Fan Page as a memento of all the great things that have been sent to me during the writing of this series. The 24/7 favourite moment polls can be found here. I used my native UK spelling in this one. Quotation courtesy of my sweet Alex. Standing thanks to Emma. Very special thanks to Phoebe for your usual sound advice and beta comments - you've been wonderful as always! A little moist cheese on toast with ketchup and Boromir-friendly dedication to Emma and Penny who just visited, and to Ann who was here in spirit this weekend :-) 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: Lots of BDSM action in this chapter although really if you've reached Chapter 25 without being phased then I'd say nothing in here will frighten you particularly! It goes without saying that this chapter is not some kind of "how to do it" guide to home branding. Don't do a home branding based on anything in this story! 24/7 By Xanthe "A
truth, still apparent, though disregarded, that
J. Winterson Chapter
25: The Branding "Fox, if you won't sit still I have ways
of making you," Skinner commented ominously. "I'm nervous." Mulder bit down on
his already worried looking lower lip. He tasted the slight tang of blood and
licked it away nervously. If Skinner saw he'd chewed into his lip enough to draw
blood then there would be trouble. "I know you're nervous, sweetheart, but
there's absolutely nothing to be scared of." Skinner gave his slave a
sympathetic sideways glance. "That's easy for you to say,"
Mulder muttered, wriggling in his seat. His elbows felt unaccountably cramped.
He shot his arms out to relieve some of the tension and caught his Master a
glancing blow on the side of his muscled arm, causing the car to swerve across
the road. Luckily it was deserted, and Skinner soon got control of the vehicle
again and guided it back to safety. "All right. That's it." Skinner
slammed his foot on the brake, and then edged the car slowly over to the side of
the road. "I'm sorry," Mulder sighed as they
came to a halt. "I really am. It's just…I don't think I've ever been more
nervous in my entire life." "I know." Skinner pulled on the
handbrake, and unbuttoned his shirt-sleeves. Mulder gazed at his Master
apprehensively as Skinner rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. "You're
just doing that because you're hot, right?" He asked. Skinner
turned to face him, a grim smile on his face. "Fox, it's November. I'm not
overheated – but your ass will be in a moment. I think it's time to give you
something to be really nervous about. Maybe a spanking will distract you
from your thoughts for the rest of the journey. We have a long way to go and I
have no intention of driving next to a whirling dervish. It's dangerous aside
from anything else. Get out of the car." Mulder
stared at his Master blankly. Skinner wouldn't really spank him just for fidgeting
would he? Here? By the side of the – admittedly deserted – road? "Now,"
Skinner said tersely, opening the driver's door and getting out. Mulder
unbuckled his seatbelt swiftly, and hopped out of the car. His warm breath
misted the cold November air the minute he stepped out. "Come here,"
Skinner said in a curt tone. Oh shit – was his Master going to throw him over
the hood of the car and spank him in full view of the world? Not that anybody
was watching apart from a disinterested horse grazing in a nearby field. Mulder
went quickly, without question, to his Master's side. Skinner exhaled loudly,
and the resulting plume of breath mushroomed in the frosty air, enveloping
Mulder for a split second in a cloud of warmth. "What
on earth am I going to do with you?" Skinner shook his head, exasperated,
placed his hands on his slave's shoulders and looked into his eyes. Mulder found
the safety and reassurance there that his Master always gave him. He managed a
tentative smile. Skinner ran his fingers over Mulder's forehead, down over his
nose, and stopped for a second on his lip, lingering on the tiny tear he found
there. "What have we said about you damaging my property?" He asked. Mulder
sighed. "She's your sister," he protested, nonsensically. "I
know – and she's very nice. You'll like her," Skinner said softly, his
large hands caressing his slave's shoulders gently. "I'm
not worried about that. I'm sure I will like her. If she's anything like
her brother I'm certain to." Mulder gave his Master another wry grin.
"It's the whole part about her liking me I'm more worried about," he
said, his teeth going unwittingly to his lip and biting down again. Skinner
entwined his hand firmly in his slave's hair and placed one finger over the lip
to prevent the action. "Tabi
very kindly invited us over for Thanksgiving. Do you think she'd do that if she
wasn't interested in meeting you? And, seriously, what's not to like?"
Skinner asked. "Plenty of people like you. I like you. Scully likes you,
Ian likes you - your weird geeky gunmen friends like you," Skinner added
forcefully. Mulder
shrugged. “I'm a disaster at social occasions. I’ll screw this up." "You've accompanied me to plenty of parties," Skinner told him patiently. "You did just fine at all of them." "They were scene parties," Mulder pointed out. "This is different. This is your family we're talking about."
"Not my whole family - just my sister." "She'll
hate me," Mulder predicted morosely. In truth, what was worrying him was
not so much that his Master's sister wouldn't like him as the fact that he
wanted to be liked – and that was something new for him to deal with. He
wasn't someone who suffered fools gladly, and he didn't have the patience to
deal with people who were obstructive or less than sympathetic to his ideas or
his quest. He knew that sometimes came over as a kind of arrogance but he
genuinely didn't feel that way – he was just too consumed by what he knew to
be right to take the time to soothe people's ruffled feathers. That, he thought
wryly, was his Master's talent. Mulder was now so used to alienating people that
he had long ago told himself that he didn't care what people thought of him –
his work was the important thing, not whether he was liked. However, now, for
the first time in a very long while, he found himself caring – and he didn't
like the feeling of vulnerability that induced. His Master had a kind of quiet,
understated charm that seemed to work on people. He had a knack for listening to
people, to seeming to empathise with them – Mulder didn't have that knack. His
relationship with his own family had been so dysfunctional that he dreaded
having to take on a whole new set of family politics with Skinner's family.
Families, as far as Mulder was concerned, were a battleground. And ironically,
it was he who had suggested visiting Skinner's sister – not his Master. In the
closeness that had followed his Master's whipping a few weeks previously, the
two men had talked frankly and candidly about their families. It was then that
Mulder realised that Skinner had an affectionate, if slightly distant
relationship with his sister – and, feeling confident after recent events, and
wanting to help his troubled Master, he had thought it would be nice for them to
get together for Thanksgiving – a suggestion that he was now regretting. Skinner
gazed at his slave for a moment, and then, without another word, he opened the
back door of the car. He grabbed Mulder's wrist, climbed inside the car, and
hauled his slave over his knee, all in one swift movement. Mulder gave a cry of
sheer surprise as his pants and briefs were pulled down, and a gust of cold air
from the open car door wafted over his naked, upturned ass. "You
can be an extremely charming man when you try," Skinner said, punctuating
each word with a sharp swat to his slave's backside. Mulder wriggled helplessly
in his Master's grasp, his long legs scissoring against the car's upholstery,
but, as usual, there was no escape. Skinner's thighs were too sturdy, his chest
and upper arms far too strong. He pinned his slave in position with seemingly
effortless ease and then began spanking him in earnest, talking the whole time
as he did so. "You can be courteous, polite, amusing, attentive and a very
good conversationalist. I know this because I've witnessed you being all these
things – frequently, and without effort. If you antagonise people it's usually
in a professional capacity, because you care too much about your work to
compromise. That's just you. I might not always agree with your methods but I
haven't sought to change you – just to help you win the respect that you
undoubtedly deserve but which your own pride and cussedness has held you back
from attaining." "Oh
shit…" Mulder held on to his Master's thighs for dear life, as the swats
became even louder and stung his exposed backside even more. Now he was grateful
that the car door was open – the cold November air cooled his glowing ass. "Are you listening to me?" Skinner demanded, his hand seemingly tireless in delivering endless stinging slaps to Mulder's backside.
"Yes! Master!" Mulder cried, desperately thankful that the road was
deserted and no passing carload of people was witnessing his humiliation. "Good. Then hear this: My sister is a very nice woman. She won't be judging you. You are accompanying me as my slave, my lover, my life partner, and my permanent companion. That status alone should give you all the confidence you need. What is your primary purpose in life, slave?" "Pleasing you, Master!" Mulder gasped. "I exist to serve you!" "That's right. You will therefore forget your insecurities, and concentrate solely on that task. And you can best please me by being yourself. That's all I ask. Tabi will love you. I already told you that she's got a thing for waifs and strays, and with your puppy dog eyes and chewed lip she'll melt the moment she sets eyes on you. Now, do you understand, or does this lesson need reinforcing some more?" Skinner's hand slowed, and began caressing gentle circles on his slave's backside instead of swats. Mulder glanced back at his red bottom. He wasn't sure he could take much more – and they still had another two hours driving ahead of them in order to reach Skinner's sister's apartment in time for Thanksgiving dinner. Oh god. Dinner. With his Master's sister. Mulder found himself biting down on his lip again, wholeheartedly regretting his enthusiasm for this visit. Why did he do these things? Why did he throw himself into these dangerous situations without thinking about the consequences?
"What if she…?" he began. He
never finished the sentence. Skinner's hand began its stinging work again,
making another circuit of his backside, paying particular attention to the
swelling under-curve of his buttocks, where he sat, purposefully enflaming the
region so that his slave would be in no doubt at all about what was expected of him
– indeed his sore bottom would remind him of this conversation throughout the
day. "You
will please me today the way you do every other day of your life. Today is no
different. You will be the beautiful, attentive, charming slave that you always
are, and that is all I ask of you. Nothing else. Nothing more complicated than
that. Pleasing me is your sole consideration today as it is every day. Do you
understand?" Skinner asked again. "Oh
god, yes!" Mulder gasped, finally giving himself up to the lesson his
Master was teaching him. "Good."
Skinner finished spanking him, and caressed his hot bottom instead.
"Hmmm…such a beautiful sight. The most erotic sight in the world,"
he said in a throaty tone. "If we were anywhere else, I'd throw you on your
hands and knees and bury myself up to the hilt inside this beautiful red ass. As
it is…I'm going to keep the memory of these glowing butt cheeks permanently in
mind today, so that every time I look at you I'll visualise your hot bottom,
waiting for me under your pants." Skinner's voice was almost dreamy, and
Mulder realised they were both hard. He moaned, and wriggled on his Master's
lap, pressing his erection into Skinner's thigh hopefully. "The
road is empty, Master," he whispered, all traces of his earlier
embarrassment at their location disappearing at the thought of being taken,
roughly and without mercy, by the side of the road. "You could use me.
Nobody would see." "It's tempting – but too risky," Skinner said regretfully. "It'll have to wait until tonight."
"Oh god. In your sister's apartment? In her spare room? No. We can't…she
might hear…" Mulder babbled. Skinner slapped down a warning swat to
silence him. "You're mine, slave. I can use you anywhere or anyhow I choose – and I most definitely will want to use you tonight after this little scene, wherever we might be sleeping, so get used to the idea."
"Yes, Master," Mulder whispered, burying his face in his arms and
surrendering himself once more to his Master's will. Just a few short months ago
he knew he wouldn't even have been able to tell Skinner honestly what was
worrying him. He would have become defensive, and angry – might even have
lashed out, run off or otherwise gotten himself into trouble. Being honest about
what was worrying him hadn't come easy to him. It felt self-pitying and weak,
but he had to admit he felt better for it. Mulder sighed happily as Skinner
stroked his bottom for several minutes, and then his Master nudged him to get to
his feet, and ordered him to adjust his clothing and get out of the car. Mulder
scrambled out, his bottom protesting his awkward and undignified exit. He tidied
himself up, tucking his shirt back inside his pants, as his Master climbed out
of the back seat. Without pausing, Skinner wrapped his big arms around his
slave's shoulders, pulled him close, and then gave him a deep, claiming kiss
that made Mulder go weak at the knees. He clung onto his Master for dear life,
then grinned at the other man stupidly when he was released, all his nervousness
banished in the face of Skinner's masterly display of ownership, comfort, and
love. "Has this little 'conversation' helped?" Skinner asked softly, caressing the side of his slave's face. "Can we drive in safety now?"
"I think so." Mulder smiled, and drew his Master back for another
kiss. Skinner's hands went around his slave's back, and cupped Mulder's
thoroughly spanked buttocks, squeezing hard, making Mulder squirm. "Stealing
kisses – I'm sure that's a punishable offence," Skinner murmured huskily
when Mulder released him. "I'm
yours, Master. You can punish me whenever you want," Mulder replied.
"Although…I would prefer to eat my Thanksgiving dinner sitting down if it
pleases you. Tabi really will think I'm strange if I insist on eating standing
up!" "You'll
sit," Skinner predicted firmly with another masterly grin. He opened his
door and got into the driver's seat again. Mulder slid cautiously into the
passenger seat, his sore bottom making its feelings on the subject of the
two-hour drive ahead very clear indeed. "'Conversation'."
Mulder made a face. "Only you could call what just happened on the back
seat a 'conversation'. What is it with tops and their euphemisms? That wasn't a
conversation." "Yeah,
like I wasn't aware of that," Mulder groused, still smiling
good-humouredly. He wasn't looking forward to sitting on his sore ass for the
next two hours but he had to admit that the spanking had worked. He felt calmer.
The butterflies that had settled in the pit of his stomach seemed to have flown
away – for now at least. He leaned his head against the car window, and gazed
at his handsome Master happily as Skinner put the car into gear and pulled back
onto the road. "Love ya," Mulder murmured, unembarrassed by the admission, and full of admiration for the way his Master always seemed to know, unerringly, how to handle his wayward slave. "I
love you too." Skinner glanced at him, with a smile curving his full,
kissable lips. "And so," he added firmly, "will Tabi." "Tell me more about your sister," Mulder requested as they drove. Skinner gave a thoughtful little smile.
"She's…different. Always was, always will be. She doesn't fit in…she's
her own person. I guess that's why we get along so well. She's a lot younger
than me as well which helped I think. There's only four years between Brian and
myself but I was 13 when Tabi came along and…well, I suspect she wasn't
planned, although my folks never said as much. Tabi kept me sane when I got back
from 'Nam. I used to sit in my bed in the family room - I couldn't walk well
enough to make it upstairs to my bedroom – and Tabi used to sit on my bed with
her colouring book. She'd make up all these stories about the people she was
drawing to keep me amused." "What
about later? When she was older? You've never mentioned her until recently so
I'm assuming you're not close." "It's
not that – we're both just busy, that's all. Tabi travels a lot." Skinner
shrugged. "And I have the Bureau – and you." He grinned. "Both
of which take up a lot of my time." "I
have no idea – they haven't invited me to Thanksgiving since Sharon
died." Skinner shrugged but Mulder picked up on the slight sense of
dejection in his body language. "Walter?"
He prompted softly. Skinner
took a deep breath. Mulder knew that his Master wasn't comfortable talking about
himself – most of their most intimate conversations had taken place after a
severe whipping had put Skinner in a state of mind in which he found it easier
to talk about his most personal experiences and feelings – but Skinner
demanded no less than total honesty from his slave and wasn't any kind of
hypocrite. He might have found it hard but he did his best to share his thoughts
and feelings. "Being
with Andrew…well, he wasn't the kind of man who could live with deception. He
knew it wouldn't be easy for me but living a lie is even harder. He didn't
insist I had to tell my family about our relationship but I knew that it was
something I should do all the same." Skinner gazed moodily out of the
window. "I
guess it was a shock to them. Their big, ex-marine son. Their Vietnam vet. And
you'd been married, had this high powered job in DC – I expect finding out
about your sexuality was the last thing they expected," Mulder commented.
Skinner smiled at him gratefully. "Yeah,"
he grunted. "You could say that. My father…I think he took enormous
pleasure in finding the news offensive. It was as if it was the chink in my
armour that he'd always been looking for. Finally, he had something he could
fail me on. Something legitimate, something that made me less than him despite
the important career, the Vietnam medals – despite all that. I was, at the end
of the day, just a fag, regardless of the fact that I had a long and happy
marriage with Sharon, which I guess makes me bisexual - although that kind of
differentiation is lost on my father and I’m not sure it matters anyway. He
couldn’t see beyond the ‘fag’ label and that’s his loss.” Skinner
shrugged, and Mulder reached over and placed his hand on his Master's neck. He
rubbed gently, easing the tension there. "His
loss," Mulder commented. "I'm lucky I never had to come out to my
father. Mind you, he was predisposed to disapprove of me anyway, so I'm sure
he'd have just grunted and taken it all in his stride as yet one more example of
how incredibly disappointing I was to him. What about…?" He paused. "The
BDSM stuff? Christ, I never even got into that with them!" Skinner shook
his head. "I figured that was really nobody's business but my own anyway.
Tabi was the only one who didn't make me feel as if I was letting the whole
family down – and she was the only one who asked to meet Andrew. They got on
well – but then it was impossible not to like Andrew." Skinner glanced at
Mulder who felt his sense of inadequacy surfacing again at that comment. He was
no Andrew Linker. He didn't possess the kind of effortless charm that had made
Andrew a man about whom nobody ever had a bad word to say. "He was like you
in that respect," Skinner commented softly. Mulder shook his head, but he
couldn't help smiling anyway – his Master saw things in him that he wasn't so
sure existed but he was glad that Skinner had such a high opinion of him.
"She's a good person," Skinner continued. "I don't think she has
a judgemental bone in her body. She just wants me to be happy and I want the
same for her." Skinner turned his head and kissed Mulder's fingers where
they rested on his shoulder. "She
sounds great. I can't wait to meet her." Mulder was surprised to find that
was nothing less than the truth. The
discussion, combined with the after-effects of the impromptu roadside spanking
calmed Mulder to the point where he was able to fall asleep. He woke in surprise
an hour later as his Master pulled up outside a large old building. "Wake
up, sleepyhead," Skinner said, tousling his slave's hair affectionately. "We
here?" Mulder gazed around blearily, confused. "Yes." Skinner made no move to get out of the car. He just sat there, watching, as Mulder roused himself. "You okay, Fox?" He inquired gently. "Ready to go in?"
"Yes. I'm looking forward to it." Mulder nodded. Skinner's sister was
the only member of his Master's family who had stood by Skinner during the
darkest days of his life. Whether she liked him or not, he was sure, from all
that he'd heard, that he would like her. Mulder
retrieved their overnight bag from the trunk of the car, and then they headed up
the steps of the large building. Skinner pushed the entryphone button and a few
seconds later the door swung open. Skinner trotted up two flights of stairs,
Mulder in tow, and they stopped outside a red door at the end of a long
corridor. Skinner paused outside, and looked at his slave questioningly. Mulder
took a deep breath, and then nodded. Skinner smiled, and knocked on the door. "Hang
on!" A female voice inside yelled. "I'm coming!" Mulder
exchanged a glance with his Master, and found the other man grinning. "Tabi,"
Skinner mouthed. Mulder rolled his eyes. "I'd
never have guessed," he murmured. That earned him a none-too-serious swat
from his Master. There was a sound akin to a miniature herd of elephants
galloping across a hard wooden floor, and then the door was opened, and a second
later something was flinging itself at his Master. "I
knew you'd be exactly on time to the minute! I knew it! What is wrong with you,
Walter? Why are you so punctual? It isn't natural," the whirlwind
protested, fastening itself around Skinner's neck, a mass of dark curls and
bright blue sweater. Skinner gave a delighted laugh and spun his little sister
around. Mulder watched, pensively, feeling suddenly detached from the family
reunion. He wondered what it would be like to have a grown-up sister like this
one – someone who invited him to Thanksgiving, and was open-minded enough to
meet his male partner. It wasn’t something he'd ever experience and that
saddened him. What would Samantha have been like, he wondered? Would she have
been accepting, like Tabi, or would she have been stiff, formal, and withdrawn?
He was suddenly aware of a pair of bright, dark eyes gazing at him
speculatively. She
disentangled herself from Skinner and then took Mulder completely by surprise by
throwing herself enthusiastically at him. Her arms went around him and she
squeezed and kissed his cheek. He was so dumbfounded that he didn't even move.
Nobody but his Master ever hugged him with this degree of enthusiasm – not
even Scully. People rarely hugged him at all – a fact for which he had always
been profoundly grateful until now. Tabi's hug was nice – welcoming, and
affectionate. "Oh god!" Tabi said, as she took a step back from him.
"You're an FBI agent too, aren't you?" "The
gun." Tabi patted his hip with a grimace. "Walter always carries one,
although exactly what kind of desperate criminal he expects to uncover in my
apartment is anyone's guess." She gave her brother a wicked smile, and then
opened the door so they could step out of the gloomy hallway. It was only when
they walked into the brightly lit apartment that Mulder got a good glimpse of
Skinner's little sister. She wasn't what he'd expected – although he had no
idea exactly what he had expected, just that it wasn't this. He supposed
that in his mind's eye he'd had a vision of a female version of Skinner; slim,
tall, self-assured, restrained…his mental image had faltered at the idea of
assigning her hair, but this creature had masses of it, tumbling from her head
in unruly dark brown curls. She wasn't slim, or particularly tall. She was of no
more than average height, and quite plump, with a homely looking face rather
than a beautiful one. Her inner beauty shone through though, in her laughing
brown eyes, and the most amazingly deep dimples that lit up her whole face
whenever she smiled, which was frequently. Mulder gazed at her, transfixed. "Fox,
this is Tabi. Tabi – this is my…" Skinner paused and then smiled,
"partner, Fox," he finished, although Mulder had the distinct
impression that he could have introduced Mulder as his slave and Tabi wouldn't
have batted an eyelid. "So
you're the famous Fox." She smiled at him, and those dimples made another
appearance. Mulder put his head on one side, and grinned back at her, fascinated
by her. "I knew it had to be someone fairly special for him to bring to
Thanksgiving – and to explain why he's been so quiet recently. It's a pleasure
to meet you, Fox. What an unusual name. Is there a story behind it? I love
hearing people's stories! Shit, I'm talking too much, aren't I? I always do when
I'm nervous." "Well,
Walter's very good at talking sense. He was born sensible. It's very sad."
She fixed her brother with a disapproving glare. "It
is," Mulder agreed. "Very sad." He sighed theatrically and then
joined Tabi in a fit of giggles. He couldn't help it – her laugh was
infectious. Skinner shook his head wryly, but was clearly delighted that his
sister and his slave were getting along so well. "I'm
dying to get to know you, Fox," Tabi said, drawing them both into the
living room. "It'll be cool having someone to tease Walter with. It's a
hard job, but someone has to do it after all," she grinned. "Uh,
I don't have to be teased," Skinner remonstrated, shooting his slave
a stern look. "Yes
you do, big brother." Tabi patted her brother affectionately on the cheek.
"Your family and friends are the only people who know you outside that big,
high-powered job you do. All you get there is 'yes, sir', and 'no, sir'. You
need us to bring you back down to reality, doesn't he, Fox?" Mulder
almost choked. "Well, all he gets at home is 'yes, sir' and 'no, sir' as
well," he winked. "I think he must like it that way," he told
Tabi in a conspiratorial tone. She gave a delighted gurgle and they basked for a
moment in their little mutual admiration society. Mulder dared a sideways glance
at his Master. He might pay for it later when they were alone in their room, but
somehow he thought that in the company of Skinner's little sister he was going
to have some fun teasing his Master without mercy. Judging by the benign look on
Skinner's face, this wasn't a state of affairs he was too unhappy about. He
looked delighted that Mulder and Tabi were clearly going to be friends, and they
all relaxed accordingly. Tabi's apartment was something of an endearing mess. She showed Mulder and his Master to their room, which, Mulder was somewhat chagrined to find, was next to her own bedroom, then left them to go and check on the meal she was cooking.
"How thin d'you think the walls are?" Mulder whispered to his Master
when they were alone, crawling onto the bed and placing his ear to the wall. "Thick
enough for us not to have to whisper," Skinner told him in a normal tone,
an amused smile on his face. "It wasn't talking I was worried about." Mulder made a face at his Master. "I know what you said in the car but I don't want your sister…I don't want her hearing anything," he muttered, flushing a bright red. "Perhaps we shouldn't…"
"Fox." Skinner placed their overnight bag on the bed. "I'm going
to ride you to within an inch of your life tonight. Get used to the idea. Now,
unpack the bag while I go and see my little sister."
Mulder
began unpacking their overnight bag, pondering the issue. He was proud of his
slavery, but that didn't mean he wanted to share the details with anyone outside
the lifestyle – and certainly not with Skinner's sister. He wasn't sure why
that thought bothered him particularly, but it did. Mulder took a deep breath.
His Master had left the door open and he could smell the scent of something
delicious cooking, and could hear the low rumble of his Master's voice,
punctuated every now and again by Tabi's warm laugh. Mulder pulled his Master's
favourite black shirt out of the bag and inhaled the scent of it deeply. The
smell of his Master's pheromones always calmed him, and the residual Eau De
Skinner clinging to the shirt was enough to distract him. He put the shirt on a
hanger and then unpacked his Master's chinos and hung those up too. He made sure
his Master's clothing was lovingly unpacked before hastily seeing to his own
clothes, and then, with another deep breath, he followed his Master into the
kitchen. Mulder
found it so easy talking to Tabi that he seriously wondered whether he might
have known her in a previous life. It was as if they'd known each other for
years and Skinner hardly got a word in edgeways as his sister and his slave
talked non-stop about just about everything over a splendid dinner of roast
turkey, accompanied by so many different kinds of vegetable dishes that Mulder
thought his stomach would explode but it was all too delicious not to indulge to
the full. He chatted to Skinner’s sister animatedly over their long, leisurely
dinner – cramming in conversation between mouthfuls of sweet potatoes,
succotash, green bean casserole and some special kind of Russian salad that was,
apparently, an old Skinner family recipe. Tabi took a keen interest in UFOs and
other related paranormal phenomenon - Mulder was surprised at her depth of
knowledge on the subject and she was clearly delighted by his. "So
how come you know all this stuff?" He asked her in awe when they
both stopped for breath. "I
researched it once for a children's book I was working on," she grinned.
"And I found it fascinating. 99% of it is crap in my view, but there were
just a few cases that I could find no explanation for – they fascinated
me." "Oh I agree." Mulder nodded his head, animated. "So many cases aren't even worth investigating. I can take one look at a photo and judge whether it's been faked in most cases. So you write children's books?"
"Factual ones, yes." Tabi grinned. "Walter says it's because I've
never grown up but then I don't think big brothers ever think of their little
sisters as having grown up, do they?" She grinned at Skinner and he leaned
over and flicked some hair away from her face affectionately, a fond smile on
his face. "I
don't know." Mulder shrugged, feeling his mood change. A silence fell on
the room. Skinner shot a concerned glance at his slave. "I had a little
sister…she was abducted when she was 8 years old. We never knew what happened
to her," Mulder said softly. "I'm still looking for her… Walter's
the only reason why I haven't thrown my life away in the search. So, maybe it's
not that they can't let you grow up…maybe it's just that big brothers can
never let go of that protective thing they have for their kid sisters." He
played with the threads on the table cloth for a moment, his long fingers
worrying at them and was surprised a few seconds later when a tanned, dimpled
hand descended on his own. "Fox,
I'm sorry. I had no idea. What a terrible thing to have happened," she said
and he looked up into her warm, sympathetic brown eyes. "I might grumble
about big brother here," Tabi continued, glancing at Skinner, "but I
wouldn't be without him for the world. I am so sorry for your loss." "Thank
you." He squeezed her fingers. "I wouldn't be without your brother for
the world either," he added softly, with a glance at Skinner. His Master
gave a small, heartfelt smile, then leaned forward and kissed his slave on the
forehead. "It hasn't always been easy reaching this point, but I'm glad that you were able to turn away in time, before it went too far, before you got yourself killed," Skinner murmured and Mulder knew from the look in his Master's eyes that they were both thinking of Krycek, and how he had so recently tried to lure Mulder away using Samantha as bait – and how Mulder had finally found the strength to say ‘no’.
"You always understood – even before we became involved. I don't think I
ever realised that. Now I've met Tabi it's much clearer to me," Mulder
said, gazing at his Master with a new understanding, meeting those brown eyes
and finding in them a dark knowledge and sense of empathy. "If
anything ever happened to Tabi I would go to the ends of the earth to find
her," Skinner said simply, with a shrug, his eyes never leaving those of
his slave. "I've always understood what drives you, Fox. Always." His
voice was firm and his expression unwavering and Mulder realised that just when
he thought he knew everything there was to know about his Master, he uncovered
more layers to this complex, intensely private man. It was almost as if
something had clicked into place, and yet another significant connection had
been made between them – this one transcending sex, or their roles, and
reaching right to the core of what attracted them to each other. Yes, of course
his Master understood his quest - Mulder had always, on some level, been aware
of that - but he hadn't fathomed the depth of that understanding until today.
For a moment they weren't Master and slave, or boss and subordinate – they
were simply older brothers with sisters they loved very much. "I've already got two big brothers but you know there's always room for another one," Tabi said softly, gazing at Mulder thoughtfully. "The two I've got are very serious and grown up. I think you would make a very amusing brother, Fox."
Mulder grinned at her. "You should watch out – I'm a teasing, tickling,
braid-tugging kind of big brother, Tabi." Tabi
grinned back and shot a glance at Skinner who was watching them both with a very
happy expression on his face. "Oh,
I'm more than used to that kind of brother," she laughed. "I
should warn you that I give as good as I get though as Walter will
testify!" "I
sure can!" Skinner said in a heartfelt tone and they all laughed out loud,
their earlier serious mood was broken. As Mulder got up to help Tabi bring in
the coffee, Skinner caught his hand and bestowed a fond kiss on it, and Mulder
in turn dropped a kiss on his Master's naked scalp. Something good had just
happened here; something very good indeed. Mulder
joked around in the kitchen with Tabi as they made the coffee, and then they
returned with it to the table where Skinner was busy clearing away the remains
of their huge Thanksgiving meal. "So,
what's Tabi short for?" Mulder asked conversationally as he put the cups on
the table. "Tabitha,"
Tabi plonked the coffee pot down on a mat beside the cups. "Nice
name," Mulder commented. "Oh
god it's not my real name!" Tabi laughed. "It's a pet name Walter and
Brian dreamed up for me." Mulder
was aware of Skinner suddenly stiffening, and glanced at him in surprise as Tabi
carried on chatting away blithely, unaware of the sudden tension in the room. "My
mother was a great fan of that show, Bewitched which she watched avidly
when she was expecting me, so she named me Samantha after the witch, but Walter
said I was just a baby so I should have been named after Samantha's little girl,
Tabitha – and hence I ended up with this ridiculous nickname!" "Your name is Samantha?" Mulder stood there for a moment, and felt his universe rearranging itself around him as he processed this new information. He glanced at his Master who looked concerned.
"Sorry, I should have told you – I just forgot to be honest. We never
call her that," Skinner told him in hurried tones. "What's
the problem?" Tabi looked from one to the other of them, her expression
confused. "My
sister was called Samantha," Mulder said softly. "Oh.
I see." Tabi made a little face. "I guess it was a pretty common name
in the mid-sixties." "Excuse
me. I need to…use the bathroom," Mulder muttered, and then he turned on
his heel and fled along the corridor. He splashed his face with cool water and
gazed at himself in the bathroom mirror. He was so many things - FBI agent, son,
slave, and the grieving brother who had never been able to let his sister go.
Now…he wasn't sure he understood it, but in some way this day was a rite of
passage. He had become a brother again, and while he hadn't found the sister he
had sought for so long, he had found someone else, another Samantha, not to take
the place of the one he'd lost but maybe to occupy the little corner of his
heart that had been frozen in time for far too long. It felt too profound a
moment for him to comprehend and he stood, gazing at himself in the mirror for a
long while, not, at this moment in time a son, or a slave, or an agent, but a
brother again. "Fox."
He heard a tap on the door and then Skinner opened it, and stepped inside,
closing it behind him. "Are you all right, sweetheart?" Skinner asked
softly. Mulder turned to face the other man. "Walter…I…"
Mulder shook his head, uncertain what he was feeling right now as he faced the
man who was his Master but who, more importantly right now, was also his lover
and closest friend. "I'm
sorry. I didn't mean that to be such a shock…I had no idea this trip would
bring up these kind of issues. I should have thought of it and warned you.
Forgive me." Skinner looked wretched. He crossed over to his slave, and put
his hands on Mulder's shoulders. Mulder gazed at him steadily. "Walter
it isn't a problem. I just needed a few moments to…deal with it. It brought up
some emotions I hadn't expected," Mulder explained. He shifted forward and
settled himself easily into his lover's arms, which closed around him gently,
clasping him close. And for a moment lovers were exactly what they were. Walter
and Fox, not Master and slave, and, for the first time since his slavery had
begun, Mulder saw a whole world beyond it, a world he had barely begun to
explore, but one which he longed to. Mulder stayed there for a long time, his
head resting on his lover's broad shoulder, swaying a little as he mentally came
to terms with these new roles: Brother and lover. "What
are you thinking?" Skinner asked, his big hands still caressing his lover's
back. Mulder sighed and burrowed in closer. These hands that could spank so hard
and deliver such delicious torments to his body could also be so gentle,
comforting and reassuring. "That
it feels almost as if…having given up everything to become your slave, having
given up on a 'normal' relationship whatever that may be, and having given up on
searching for Samantha as if my own life didn't matter, that somehow, through
that act of giving everything up, everything I ever wanted has been given to me.
I don't understand it. Kind of like those people who find love only when they
stop looking. I know she's your Sam, not mine, but…I may never find my own
sister…and…" Mulder ran out of words, blinded suddenly by tears.
Skinner hugged him close and kissed his head and they stood there, sharing a
very important moment. Finally
Skinner released him.
Mulder smiled at the other man, and nodded. As always, Skinner seemed to
instinctively know the right thing to do. Although he must be dying to catch up
with his sister's news, he was more concerned that his lover got to know her,
and began to forge a relationship of his own with her. "That sounds good. Thank you," he said. Skinner nodded and walked towards the door.
"Walter," Mulder called him back. Skinner turned, one eyebrow raised
questioningly. "For all of it," Mulder added. "Thank you for
everything. For sticking with me even when I was unbearable, especially during
those first few days of my slavery when I was all over the place, and for later,
when I screwed up so badly in LA and then again in Seattle. And thank you for
taking me as your slave in the first place. If you'd just taken me as your sub
then I'd have run the moment you got too close. This way I didn't have a choice
– so I couldn't sabotage it for myself. Thank you for all those things. I'm
not sure I've ever said it before, maybe I have in bits and pieces but it bears
saying again. Thank you – for being my Master and my lover. I think that now,
more than ever before, I can see a way to be both slave and lover to you in
return." The
expression on Skinner's face took Mulder completely by surprise. The big man
closed his eyes for a moment, and sighed – a sigh that reminded Mulder of that
first long sigh he had overheard in that room nearly a year ago, the sigh that
had signalled that Skinner was prepared to take him as his slave. When Skinner
opened his eyes again there was an expression of profound contentment in them. "You
already started on that journey awhile ago, Fox," Skinner told him softly.
"What you did for me a few weeks ago, after that crap with Krycek, that
wasn't something I ordered you to do. You stepped up the plate when I needed you
most, and took some of the weight from me. You saw beyond the roles then, and
you glimpsed it many times before that." "Yes."
Mulder nodded. "I just didn't see it clearly until today. You've
waited a long time for me to see this particular truth. You must curse me
sometimes – always pursuing the truth that's 'out there' and ignoring the one
under my nose." Skinner chuckled. "The journey has been a long one," he admitted, "but I don't regret one single second of it."
"Come here," Mulder ordered, and Skinner came, without argument or
question, into Mulder's outstretched arms. Mulder kissed his lover soundly on
the lips, and then released him. Skinner looked down on him with a tender
expression in his dark eyes. "We're not quite there yet, Fox, but we're very close now." "You have to brand me, Walter," Mulder said firmly. "I know we talked about it happening over Christmas but we haven’t discussed it since we agreed on that and I can't wait any longer. It's time."
"I know. We'll make the arrangements as soon as we get home," Skinner
promised. Mulder smiled. It was definitely time. When
he returned to the living room, Tabi was sitting on the couch, her legs curled
up beneath her, sipping her coffee as she stared out of the window. She looked
up when she saw him, her expression uncertain, and he tugged her curly hair
slyly and grinned at her broadly. "Hey,
sis," he said. "What's up?" Her
face broke into a wide grin and she patted the couch beside her. "Come and
sit with me, Fox," she said. "We have so many years to catch up
on." Mulder
sat down eagerly beside her and they started to talk, like old friends, or like
siblings catching up after a long absence, with perfect ease, as if they'd known
each other for years. Mulder relaxed back into the couch, utterly contented,
drinking in the sight of her dark eyes, and her animated expressions as she
talked. He hadn't found what he'd lost, but, after all these years, he had
finally found a sister. It
was late by the time Mulder and Tabi finally took themselves off to bed. Mulder
planted an affectionate kiss on his sister's cheek and then walked into the
bedroom he was sharing with his Master. Skinner was sitting on the bed, reading
a book. He glanced up when his slave came in and smiled. "It's
late – so I'm presuming you two had a lot to talk about," he commented. "Yeah – it's so weird. I feel like I've known her all my life. Maybe because she's so much like you in some ways," Mulder said.
"She is?" Skinner folded his glasses and closed the book he'd been
reading. "Yes – she works like crazy for a start, and she knows all kinds of stuff that you wouldn't expect her to know."
"Perhaps that's because of her job. She has to research some quite varied
subjects I believe," Skinner said. "I was just reading one of her
books." He held up the book that had been perched on his knees. "She
has a whole pile of them on a shelf over there." He pointed. Mulder
wandered over and looked at the array of books – they were factual children's
books, with a variety of interesting titles. He stared at the name on the
spines, unsurprised to find that she used her real name on her work, and not the
family nickname. "Samantha Skinner," he murmured, tracing his finger
over the name. "Kind'a catchy." "I think that's partly why Mom chose it," Skinner said with a nod. "I'm glad you like her, Fox." "I do. I'm more glad that she seems to like me though." Mulder grinned. "I'm sorry – I hope you weren’t bored in here on your own." "Not at all." Skinner grinned. "It gave me some time to contemplate what I plan on doing to my slave tonight."
Mulder flushed – he had forgotten his Master's promise to use him but his cock
told him in no uncertain terms that he liked the idea, even while his brain was
already shrivelling up in embarrassment at the idea of his Master making love to
his slave with Tabi in a room just down the hall. "Don't worry – we won't
be making any noise, and even if we did I'm sure Tabi would take it in her
stride," Skinner grinned. "I thought this would be a good opportunity
to put you into some voluntary bondage, boy." "I
know. We don't need any. That's why it's 'voluntary'," Skinner chuckled.
"Go and clean up and brush your teeth, slave, and then get your ass back in
here. I want to ride it hard tonight." "Take
off your clothes, Fox, and lie on the bed, on your back," Skinner
instructed. Mulder
did as he was told, shaking slightly from excitement. He crawled onto the bed
and lay down, then waited for his Master to come to him. "All
right, boy – your slavery goes beyond physical bond. My orders are your
bond," Skinner hissed, trailing a finger over his slave's naked body.
Mulder moaned and Skinner placed the finger over his lips. "I want you to
imagine that I've gagged you," he said. "You can't speak, you can't
moan – you can't make any sound at all. It's physically impossible for you to
do so. You have a huge gag wedged in your mouth and you can't so much as squeak
around it. Understood?" Mulder
gazed at his Master, wide-eyed, wondering if he was going to be able to manage
to do as commanded. He found his answer in Skinner's dark, uncompromising eyes.
He would obey because his Master was expecting him to do so, however hard it
might be. His Master wanted to use him without disturbing their hostess, and his
Master should be able to use his slave whenever he wanted, however he
wanted. Mulder nodded and closed his mouth firmly. Skinner smiled down on him. "Good
boy. Now, I want you to imagine that you're tied in the tightest bondage. I'm
going to attach your wrists to the bedposts." Skinner raised first one of
Mulder's arms and then the other so that they positioned over his head, and
Mulder stretched them out taut, imagining how they would feel if they really
were tied. "Relax
– you might have to keep this position for some time," Skinner warned.
"Now your legs." He spread Mulder's legs wide as if they were being
attached as well and Mulder's cock leapt to attention as he realised how open he
was for his Master's use. "Good boy. Being a slave is an attitude of mind
as much as anything else. It isn't about the equipment - the implements, the
ropes and chains," Skinner told him, running that teasing finger over his
slave's body as he spoke. "It's about what goes on in here." He tapped
Mulder's head gently. "Your slavery begins and ends here, Fox, and you're
going to demonstrate to me tonight how well you understand that. You're tied and
gagged, subject to your Master's whim. You're an offering, a slave belonging to
your Master who can use you as he pleases - hard…" Skinner slowly pinched
one of Mulder's nipples between his thumb and forefinger with increasing
pressure until Mulder bucked up beneath the hard caress, although he kept his
arms and legs in place, as ordered, and didn't make a sound. "Or
soft…" Skinner continued, releasing his grasp on Mulder's nipple and
bending to kiss the pinched flesh softly. He enveloped the abused nub in his
warm, wet mouth and gently tongued it, until Mulder began to bliss out on a haze
of pleasure. "Good
boy," Skinner murmured, his hands moving over Mulder's body like a maestro
playing with a familiar, favourite instrument. Mulder concentrated hard on
keeping his arms where his Master had placed them and his legs wide open, his
ass available for whenever his Master should wish to take him. Skinner dropped
his head down towards Mulder's body and sucked and played in earnest, pausing to
render a loving bite to his slave's body at intervals, making Mulder squirm and
long to cry out but, mindful of the mental gag in place, he remained utterly
silent. "My
beautiful slave. I love your body when it moves and writhes beneath me,"
Skinner whispered, "but I love it like this, utterly still, as well. I love
your obedience. It turns me on, slave." He
opened his dressing gown to reveal his large erection. Mulder swallowed hard. He
longed to take his Master in his mouth or to touch that magnificent cock with
his hands but that was denied him, so he feasted on the sight of it instead. Skinner
shrugged his gown away from his shoulders and returned to his task. He trailed
one fingernail down Mulder's body, pressing just too hard to be comfortable but
not so hard as to be painful. Mulder clenched his teeth together, bearing the
torment, enjoying the torment, loving his own submission. He heard his Master
reach for something on the nightstand and wondered what he was looking for, and
then a moment later he found out as something rough began to scrape its way
along his chest. He looked down, startled, to find that his Master was rubbing a
nail file over his chest – just lightly, but it was an interesting sensation.
The file moved inexorably towards his nipples and Mulder couldn't stop the
slight moan of anticipation. Skinner tapped him sharply and he nodded, and
closed his eyes, as if that would block out what he knew must be coming next.
Sure enough, a few seconds later he felt the sensitive flesh of his nipples
being rubbed by the file – just lightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to
make itself felt. Mulder was sweating now, and he pulled on his imaginary cuffs,
needing there to be something that would make him endure this without
moving or putting up some resistance, but there was only his Master's command.
Mulder hoped it would be enough because he was sure that Skinner was going to
test him to the edge of his resistance this evening. Skinner took hold of his
left nipple and ran the nail file more firmly over the tender surface. This time
it did hurt – it wasn't a sharp pain but it was a rough one, and his nipples
had already been sensitised by Skinner's earlier pinching and sucking on them.
Mulder desperately wanted to put up his hands, to push his Master away, to bring
the torment to an end. "These
are so sensitive aren't they?" Skinner murmured. "Even before we
pierced them they were sensitive but now they're even more so. Hmmm?"
Mulder knew he wasn't expected to reply but he opened his eyes to find Skinner
totally engrossed in his task, his head bent as he busied himself with his
slave's body, his eyes alight with enjoyment of his play. Mulder put his head
back, utterly turned on by the expression in his Master's eyes. "Shall we
go harder?" Skinner asked, in a husky, sexy whisper. "Hold on, slave,
let's really torment these." And so saying he took one of the nipples in
his mouth at the same time as he continued to rub the nail file over the surface
of the other one. Mulder stiffened and bucked up into his Master's painful
embrace, loving it, hating it, and needing it, at one and the same time. Skinner
swapped sides, and sucked hard on the other nipple while using the nail file on
its twin and it was all Mulder could do not to cry out. He twisted, but his arms
never moved from the position in which they had been placed, and he kept his
legs wide open, his body ever ready for his Master's use. "Beautiful,"
Skinner murmured. "You know, one day, slave, when we're home and have
plenty of time, I'll take several hours to torture these nipples. I have lots of
interesting implements to use on them – I'll devote a whole session to them.
By the end you'll be begging me to stop but I'll continue despite your pleas
until you think you can't bear one more sensation. I'll use ice and heat, and
clamps and weights." He squeezed Mulder's right nipple with one hand while
he spoke and continued rubbing the nail file over the other one at the same
time. Mulder thought he would expire from the dual sensations. "I think I'd
enjoy that, slave," Skinner whispered, releasing both nipples and calming
them with gentle lapping of his expert tongue. Mulder couldn't help himself –
he whimpered, and Skinner slapped his thigh. "Quiet, boy…remember that
your body is an offering to your Master, that you are tied and gagged, and
cannot resist your Master's attentions, however cruel they might be." Skinner
grinned and pinched hard on the already sore nipples. It took all Mulder's
strength of will and devotion to his Master's orders not to cry out. "Good
boy," Skinner said, releasing him. He kissed Mulder's forehead gently.
"That's very good. You're doing very well," he said. Mulder felt his
cock start to leak. This situation was so hot! His Master grinned down at him.
"I think it's time I put you out of your misery," he said. "Hold
tight, boy. I'm going to undo your legs but your arms will remain tied." He
knelt between Mulder's spread legs and parted his buttocks and then carefully,
slowly, inserted his cock, nudging it in, inch by inch, until Mulder's ass was
fully distended. Then he leaned forward, and, resting his weight on his
forearms, lowered his head to suck on Mulder's abused nipples once more. Mulder
wanted to scream – his nipples were now so sensitised that the lightest touch
felt like too much, and the sensation of his Master's massive cock fully lodged
in his opening, filling him to the brim, added to the sensory overload. He
longed to scream and wrap his arms around his Master, but he could do none of
those things so instead he lay there, his arms above his head, his legs open
wide, as Skinner claimed him with his tongue and with his cock. Finally his
Master released his nipples and began slowly pounding in and out of his slave's
body. He went so slowly that Mulder thought he'd expire, feeling every single
inch as it entered him and then slid out again. He looked up to find his Master
gazing down on him, a fond expression on his face. "Beautiful
slave…take me…that's it," Skinner whispered, shifting his hips for
another slow, lazy thrust. Mulder was sure that if Skinner didn't move the
action up a gear soon that he'd have to open his mouth and yell. He couldn't
bear the sensations – he was minutely aware of even the tiniest movement. His
voluntary bondage seemed to have made him more aware of every single nerve
ending in his body and he was sure he could feel the message of each one
individually. Skinner
slowed again, and came to rest once more on his slave's chest. This time, when
his mouth closed over his slave's right nipple, he used his teeth, biting until
Mulder bucked against him, although still Mulder remained in position, arms
above his head, mouth closed, even though his legs were flailing like crazy.
Skinner grinned a totally evil grin and transferred his attention to Mulder's
other nipple, biting down even harder, his hard cock still lodged deep within
his slave's body. Mulder gave a small, inarticulate cry, but Skinner didn't
release him; it was as if he was glued to his slave's body and he wouldn't
release the tortured nub of flesh between his teeth until he was good and ready.
They were frozen like that for what seemed like an eternity, neither of them
moving or speaking, bodies pressed so closely together that they were one,
Skinner's cock embedded in Mulder's anus up to the hilt, and Mulder's tortured
nipple inside Skinner's mouth. Then suddenly it was over. Skinner released him
and, although he was relieved to be rid of the feeling of his Master's teeth on
his sore nipple, Mulder also missed that warm, tormenting mouth, and perversely
longed for it to return. Skinner didn't disappoint him. A few more languid
thrusts and he returned his attention once more to Mulder's nipples, biting down
on the right one this time, and Mulder bore it as he had before, never breaking
in his determination to remain in the position in which his Master had
‘tied’ him, to offer up his body for his Master's pleasure, however harsh
that pleasure might be. Finally
Skinner released him, and began thrusting with more purpose. Mulder gazed,
transfixed as always at his powerful Master as he entered him over and over
again, faster and faster, his arm and shoulder muscles bulging as he neared his
climax, his dark eyes alight with arousal and love for his slave who was
demonstrating his devotion in the only way possible to him – with his
obedience. Skinner came with a gasp, and rested his head on Mulder's chest.
"You're still tied, little one," he said huskily. Mulder nodded,
longing to caress his Master's back. Skinner withdrew from his slave's body and,
dropping his head, took Mulder's cock in his mouth in one swallow. Mulder almost
shouted in surprise and pleasure, and only just managed to keep from making a
noise, and Skinner rewarded him by sucking him at length, before finally
allowing him to come in his mouth. His Master swallowed and then slid up his
slave's body and reached for his arms. "I'm
untying you, Fox," he whispered. "You've behaved excellently, little
one. I'm very proud of you." He
moved Mulder's arms back down and dropped his mouth to Mulder's lips, his deep,
searching kiss ending the pretence of the gag. Mulder sighed and opened up, his
arms finally going around his Master's big body, holding him close. Skinner
released his slave and looked down on him with a grin. "See – we barely made any noise at all," he said. "Nobody heard us."
"No, Master," Mulder said dreamily. "Shit that was hard," he
murmured, as Skinner flopped down beside him and pulled the sheets over them
both. "Sore,
Master!" Mulder retorted in a heartfelt tone. Skinner chuckled. "It
was so good playing with them while you couldn't move," he murmured, and
Mulder grinned. He loved knowing that their sex life turned his Master on just
as much as it turned him on. They were silent, both of them dozing towards
sleep, and then Mulder spoke again. "Master…did
you mean what you said…about having a session in the Playroom just playing
with my nipples?" He asked. Skinner kissed the back of his neck. "I'd
enjoy that – it's pretty close to edge play for you though. It isn't easy
dealing with that much attention to just one area of your body for such a long
time. I'd make sure you got some breaks but even so…it's a real endurance
test. You might find that a turn on – by the end you'll probably be screaming
for me to stop but you'd come harder than usual. Would you like to try it,
Fox?" he asked. Mulder
shuddered, his sore nipples protesting at the very thought of it – and yet, as
with all demonstrations of his Master's power over him, when it was extreme and
took him to the very limits of his endurance he found a massive sexual energy in
it. "I
don't know," he murmured. "Nipple play is so like walking a tightrope
between pain and pleasure." "Mm?"
Skinner asked hazily. "I'd
like you to give me that session in the Playroom, Master," Mulder said.
"Even though I'm sure I'll change my mind the minute it actually happens so
please make me see it through to the end." Mulder
was genuinely sorry to leave Tabi and return to DC the following day. "Oh
it's more than that, Tabi. This one's for keeps." "I
noticed the wedding ring," Tabi whispered, almost conspiratorially, with a
nod in the direction of Mulder's left hand. "It's your ring isn't it,
Walter?" Skinner smiled again and nodded. "Nothing
much gets past you, Tabi. Yes, I put that ring on Fox's finger." He and his
slave exchanged a meaningful glance – neither of them had forgotten the exact
circumstances of that particular act and what it had signified.
Skinner's smile faded a little.
"Well, maybe because he hasn't given me one yet," he murmured. Mulder
frowned. It hadn't even occurred to him to give his Master a wedding ring –
Skinner was the Master and he was the slave. It would take a very bold slave
indeed to make his Master wear a symbol of his commitment on his hand…and yet,
now that she had mentioned it, Mulder thought he'd like very much to see Skinner
wearing his ring. He wondered whether it was something that could ever happen.
Skinner's tone had been wistful when he'd made his reply, so maybe there was a
chance that it could. "Here's
my cell phone number." Tabi tucked a piece of paper into Mulder's shirt
pocket. "Call me," she ordered firmly. Mulder laughed and this time
swung her into up a brotherly hug, which wasn't something he'd done since
he was 12 years old. It felt good. "I
will, sis," he said grinning into her dark curly hair. “Oh,
and here.” She handed him a cooler. “What’s
this?” Mulder frowned. “Leftovers
from dinner yesterday – I can’t possibly eat them all up and I know Walter
has a healthy appetite and you look as if you could do with fattening up.”
Tabi grinned at him. Mulder shook his head and grinned back, before drawing her
into another hug, reluctant to leave. He
got into the car beside Skinner, and they both waved farewell to Tabi. She stood
on the sidewalk for a long time waving until the car was completely out of
sight. Mulder sat back in his seat with a sigh.
"What did you do this time last year?" Skinner asked. "I
sat in my apartment eating pizza and watching very bad science fiction
movies." Mulder shrugged. "You?" "Talking
of play parties…" Mulder glanced at Skinner. "Do you have any idea
when exactly you'll brand me, Master?" "I
was thinking – how about 10 days before Christmas, on the Saturday?"
Skinner suggested. "It gives us time to prepare and to invite guests, and
as it's so close to Christmas we could take two weeks vacation starting
immediately afterwards to give you time to…" He paused.
"Adjust," he finished, but Mulder knew what he meant. He had no wish
to return to work immediately after what he knew would be both a profound and a
painful experience – he liked the idea of having some time to heal afterwards,
and the chance to spend some quality time with his Master. "Sounds
good to me," he said with a nod. "Who will you invite, Master?" "You're
welcome, slave." Skinner replied. They
were no sooner through the door than a small bundle of creamy coloured fur
hurled herself at them, wailing piteously. "Don't
over-dramatise. It was only one night, Wanda," Skinner said, picking her up
and allowing himself to be head-butted by her furry head. "Madam
is so spoiled," Mulder commented, bringing the bags in, but he couldn't
wait for Skinner to put the little cat back down again so that he could pick her
up and make a fuss of her himself. Wanda submitted ecstatically – never one to
refuse the devotion of human slaves she was always happy to bestow her largesse
on anyone who would tickle her vigorously behind the ears. Mulder knew that he
could never hope to rival his Master's place in her heart, but he did think that
he came a close second these days. Skinner would sit still for hours on end so
that she could sleep on his lap but it was Mulder who got down on his hands and
knees and played with her so he guessed that she had somehow, somewhere along
the way, managed to train both of them to see to her every need.
The
invitations to the branding went out a few days later and they started receiving
replies almost immediately. "Who's
coming?" Mulder asked from his vantage position kneeling next to his
Master, his chin on Skinner's lap, as the big man went through the replies in
his den a week or so later. "Everyone."
Skinner grinned, glancing down at him. "Yup!"
Skinner laughed out loud at the expression on his slave's face. "Did you
seriously think anybody would turn down an invitation to one of the few parties
the Guardian holds? Especially when they know he's going to brand his
slave?" "I
guess I hadn't thought of it like that," Mulder mused. "Oh shit. I
hope I don't make a complete idiot of myself." "Can
I look at the branding iron again, Master?" Mulder asked. "That's
right, boy." Skinner smiled and tousled his hair affectionately. "Seriously
speaking – how much does it hurt?" Mulder asked. Skinner
mused on that for a moment. "Well, I won't lie to you, Fox
- the pain will be intense. Some people pass out. It won't be any shame
on you if you do pass out – Perry will be on standby to administer first aid
if required. However…" Skinner put a warm hand on Mulder's shoulder to
still his trembling. "I'll ensure that you're deeply in head space first,
Fox. I don't want this to be an ordeal – I want it to be a celebration." "I
probably did – but this is different. This is a permanent mark. Nipple rings
can be removed – a brand is for life," Skinner said softly. "Do you
trust me, Fox?" He asked, his hands sweeping over Mulder's shoulders, up
and down, reassuring, comforting and loving. "Well,
I was wondering whether you'd mark me somewhere else…I'd like to be able to
see the brand when I'm naked," Mulder blurted. "I'd like it to be
somewhere I can touch it, even when I'm clothed, so that I can feel you there,
marked on me. If you mark my butt I'll look damn strange if I keep touching my
ass!" "I
can understand that," Skinner mused. "In fact, I can think of
somewhere else I'd like to mark you – somewhere that I'll be able to touch
when we're out together – although only you and I will know the significance
of that touch." "Your
thigh. Here." Skinner reached out and touched Mulder's right flank.
"Another good thing about that position is that I can look into your eyes
when I'm branding you. I think that would make the moment more…intense, for
both of us." "However…"
Skinner said and Mulder's heart sank. "If your butt is to remain unmarked,
then it's only fair to warn you that I will have to continue marking it
regularly with my switch, slave. I told you when you arrived, that this ass of
yours should bear your Master's mark at all times. If it isn't going to have a
permanent mark then it will need to accept my more temporary marks every few
days." Mulder
swallowed hard. Much as he hated the actual process of being marked, he did love
the ritual of marking that they had built up between them. He considered the
matter for several moments. It had been impudent of him to suggest an
alternative site for the branding, but his Master had been indulgent –
although he had allowed his slave to know that he wouldn't be granted this boon
without a price. All told, it was a price Mulder thought he was prepared to pay
for being able to look into his Master's eyes as he was being branded, and for
being able to look at his brand and touch it with impunity, whenever he liked. "I
understand, Master," he said, bowing his head. "I would like the brand
on my thigh, Master. I'm happy to be marked with your switch for the rest of my
life to pay for that honour." "You
have become the slave I've always wanted you to be – and the slave you've
always wanted to be," he said softly. "Well done, Fox." He
bestowed another tender kiss on Mulder's willing lips and Mulder clung to him
for a moment, his heart positively zinging in his chest at his Master's praise.
"We've come such a long way, haven't we?" Skinner said when the kiss
drew to an end. "Yes,
Master. Such a long way." Mulder remembered the many ups and downs of their
relationship thus far – and flushed slightly when he recalled how long it had
taken him to get to this place in his slavery, and how much he had fought the
very thing he wanted most in the world. The
phone broke into their reverie and Skinner picked it up. Mulder resumed his
position kneeling at his Master's side, and was surprised when, after a few
brief moments of chat, Skinner passed the phone to him. "It's
Murray," he said. "Why
not?" Skinner handed Mulder the phone and he took it, warily. "Fox!"
Murray's voice roared into the earpiece. "We got your invitation, lad! I
can't tell you how delighted we are that you've finally managed to talk that
Master of yours into branding you." "I'm
pretty pleased about it myself!" Mulder replied with a laugh. "This
is the best news we've had in a long time. One of Walter's magnificent parties
and the chance to see you two make that last commitment to each other. Hammer
– remind me to take my handkerchief. I always cry at these ceremonies,"
Murray proclaimed and Mulder had no doubt that was the case. Murray was a man
who wore his emotions loudly, proudly, and unashamedly on his sleeve. "I'm
delighted for you, lad, truly delighted. Hammer had to talk me into branding him
but it was the best thing we ever did. I love that little symbol, seared into
his flesh…just love it! He went through that pain for me and I'm proud of him
for that. I'll bet Walter is just as proud of you." "You
can bet on it," Murray said confidently. "Did
you want to talk to my Master again?" Mulder asked tentatively. "God
no. I called to speak to you!" Murray laughed. "Oh,
I just thought…that, well, Walter's another top and I assumed…" Mulder
began, feeling himself flushing. "That
tops only want to talk to other tops? Nonsense!" Murray scolded in his
roaring tones. "The world would be a very boring place if that were
so." Mulder
smiled. He was both surprised and gratified that Murray wanted to talk to him.
He felt like he'd arrived, like he was finally accepted amongst these people, as
one of them – and then he realised that it had only been his own misguided
notions of his place in this subculture that had ever prevented him feeling this
way before. Ian, after all, was perfectly at ease with everyone on the scene,
and he was a sub, but Mulder had always felt that he was being judged, looked
down on, and even sneered at for his preference. Talking to Murray he knew he
couldn't have been more wrong. "Where
would we be without our subs, Fox? You're the other half of us – what are we
without you? Hmm?" Murray demanded on the other end of the phone. "You
define us, you make us what we are. You enable us to enjoy this exchange of
power that we find so erotic. Without you we wouldn't be whole." Mulder
relaxed, and leaned his head against his Master's knee as he continued the
conversation. Murray's deep, booming voice was curiously comforting and they
conversed for several minutes before the call came to an end. The
preparations for the party proceeded without hitch. They ordered food and drink
and generally prepared. On the weekend before the party, Skinner took Mulder up
to the Playroom and they discussed how they wanted to arrange it to best effect
so that everybody would be able to view the proceedings. Mulder felt a strange
tingle in his stomach as they matter of factly talked about a ceremony that
would culminate with a white-hot iron being plunged into his flesh. While he
knew Skinner had never branded anyone before, he also knew that his Master had
studied the subject thoroughly and knew exactly what he was doing. He sat Mulder down on the couch and showed him exactly how he'd been tied, with his leg and torso held completely immobile. "I'll heat the brand over
here." Skinner waved his hand. Mulder swallowed hard, trying to visualise
the scene and failing, his stomach somersaulting in nervous anticipation.
Skinner seemed to sense his mood and changed the topic of conversation
accordingly. "What
do you want me to wear?" Skinner opened the cupboard containing his scene
clothes and gestured inside. "Sure."
Skinner grinned. "You, of course, will be naked for the actual event, but
not for the preceding party. I'll strip you just before we begin. You'll wear
those leather pants with the butt cut out of them – I love you in them and
I'll mark you beforehand so folks will have something to look at – apart from
your cute ass of course." He grinned, wolfishly. Mulder sighed and rolled
his eyeballs. "I'll let you wear a harness on your chest – gold, I think.
It's either that outfit or the harem boy one which I adore, so take your
pick." Skinner folded his arms and looked at his slave with an amused
raised eyebrow. "I'll
take the leather pants, Master," Mulder said hurriedly. The harem pants
look might feed into one of his Master's most cherished fantasies but he really
felt stupid in them. "Somehow
I thought you'd say that." Skinner grinned. "Well, I might have to
dress you up in the harem outfit sometime soon just for myself…I love you in
that costume. Let's get back to my outfit for the party. Any suggestions?" "Interesting
choice, little one," Skinner commented softly as he surveyed the outfit.
"Any reason?" "I
like your sense of occasion." Skinner bestowed a loving kiss on his slave's
lips. When he released his slave, he put an arm around Mulder's shoulders and
they surveyed the Playroom together. "This
time next week it'll be full of people, waiting to see you branded,"
Skinner murmured. Mulder shivered and leaned into his Master's warm embrace. "I
can't wait, Master," he replied. Mulder
was woken in the early hours of the morning a few hours later by the sound of
the phone. He blinked, blearily, and listened with half an ear as Skinner
answered it. He came to as he heard the tone of his Master's voice change. "When?
How bad is it? Where?" Skinner asked, sitting up in bed and swinging his
legs over the side. "We'll be there. We'll come now. No, listen, Hammer,
we'll come. Of course we'll come," Skinner said urgently. "Just hold
on, Hammer. We'll be there." He put the phone down and sat there for a
moment, his expression one of shock and distress. "Walter?
What's happened?" Mulder got up and knelt on the bed behind his Master,
putting his hands on the other man's shoulders. "Is everything okay?" "No.
That was Hammer. It's Murray…" Skinner took a deep breath and his jaw
shifted sideways so fast that Mulder heard an audible click. "What's
happened to him, Walter?" Mulder asked gently. He knew Skinner and Murray
had been friends for years and Skinner was clearly upset. "He's
had a heart attack. He's in the ICU. Hammer is there with him but he
says…" Skinner paused and took a deep breath. "He says it's bad,
that Murray might not make it. I said we'd go over there now. I'm about the
closest friend Murray's got apart from Hammer. He's always been very good to me.
After Andrew died, Murray, Hammer and Elaine were very kind to me. Murray often
invited me over at the weekends – he worried about me being lonely. We even
took a vacation together in the beach house, all four of us…Elaine wasn't with
David then. Murray has the biggest heart of anyone I know…" Skinner broke
off and Mulder was shocked to realise that his big, strong, normally stoical
Master was very close to tears. "Come
here," he whispered, and he pulled Skinner close and hugged him for a
moment, kissing his head over and over again, soothing the big man. After a
couple of minutes, Skinner visibly pulled himself together and got up. "No,
you don't have to…" Skinner began but Mulder stopped him short. "He's my friend too – I want to be there. And, more than that, I want to be with you, Walter – where I belong." Skinner gazed at him for a moment and then nodded, his eyes glassy with tears. They
found Hammer pacing up and down a hospital corridor. "We
had to be here," Skinner said firmly. "Any
more news?" Mulder asked. Hammer
shook his head. "It was so sudden. One minute he was fine…then he just
literally keeled over. He was holding onto his chest…I did CPR, gave him
aspirin, and kept him going until the paramedics arrived. The doctors worked on
him when they got him to the ER but they say he's in a critical condition."
Hammer wrapped his arms around his stomach as if he was going to be physically
sick. "I know he looks like he's this big, strong, blustery guy…he's so
larger than life…but underneath he's the sweetest man. He's a pussycat really.
People don't understand…they don't know him." "Yes…I…they
were putting a new IV into him so I came out to try and pull myself together.
They said we can sit with him as long as we don't get in the way." They
walked into the ICU and Mulder took a deep breath as he caught sight of Murray.
Hammer's lover was a big man – but now he looked small, and frail. He was as
big in personality as he was in girth and now that he was sedated, he seemed so
diminished – the most vital part of him – his personality - was missing. Skinner
sat beside the bed and gently stroked the other man's hand, while Hammer took up
position opposite him. Mulder stood beside Skinner, a hand on his Master's
shoulder, giving what comfort he could. "Hey,
Murray. You have to pull through this," Skinner said softly. "We need
you, buddy."
"I
kept telling him to make a living will," Hammer muttered tiredly as they
walked out of the hospital towards Skinner's car. "I work with terminally
ill people and I kept saying to him…" Hammer shook his head. "But
you know Murray – he didn't like to think he'd ever die. I think he thought
he'd just disappear in a puff of smoke one day. He didn't think he might be on a
life support machine…do you know that his closest relative is his niece – a
woman he's only met a few times in his entire life? She now has the power of
life and death over him. She gets to decide. Not me, not his lover of 20 years,
the man who's shared his life, his laughter, his tears for two decades…not me,
but her. I should have sat him down and made him do it. I knew…I've
seen this kind of thing happen. I knew and I should have insisted…" "Yeah."
Hammer gave a little laugh. "That's Murray. He's such a mule-headed, big
hearted, totally…" He broke off, a little choke in his voice. "Hammer
– do you want to come back with me and Fox?" Skinner asked. "You
could stay with us."
Over
the next few days, Skinner spent every spare minute outside work at his friend's
bedside and Mulder was there almost as much…only now he wasn't so much worried
about Murray as about his own Master. Skinner had caught a cold and the strain
of his friend's illness was taking its toll on him. His face had a pale, haggard
cast, and he looked extremely tired. Mulder realised, with a pang of guilt, that
Skinner's reserves of energy had already been low before this latest crisis.
When he thought back to the events of the past year, he could see how much
responsibility his Master had taken – and was continuing to take – for
everyone, not least his own slave. There seemed to be no limit to the
responsibilities resting on his Master's broad shoulders. At the office, Skinner
was in charge of the FBI's violent crimes division, a job that required enormous
amount of drive and dedication. On the scene, Skinner had all the
responsibilities of Guardian of the House, culminating in the nightmare that had
been Franklin's abuse of his slave, Lee. At home, Skinner had taken on the task
of pulling his self-destructive slave back from the brink…a task that had
overwhelmed both their lives for the past 10 months. Mulder thought back to all
the many crises of his relationship with Skinner, from that first week of
training when he had been trying to play Skinner, to that disastrous first day
back at work when he had spun off into orbit. There had been the many other
highs and lows on the roller-coaster ride – his trip to California where he
had pried into his Master's personal life, uncovering his painful secret, his
subsequent witnessing of the kind of punishment Skinner took on himself, his own
crisis in Seattle and the fallout from it that had seen him carve into his chest
with a razor blade…all this Skinner had dealt with, and there had been many
pleasures along with the drama, but when, Mulder thought to himself, had Skinner
ever had the chance to just kick back and relax? No wonder the strain was
finally starting to show. Mulder
did all he could during that week to ensure that his Master had food, clean
clothing and the comfort of his slave's arms whenever he needed any of those
things, but it felt so little compared to all that his Master had done for him.
He was grateful that Skinner felt able to lean on him, even if it was only for
the small things like remembering to feed Wanda and clear out her litter tray,
but he wished he could be of even more help to his Master and really relieve the
burdens resting on those broad shoulders. By
Tuesday, Murray was officially declared out of danger, although he was still
very weak and would need an angioplasty. Mulder worked late and went to collect
Skinner from the hospital and do some visiting of his own that evening. Murray
was still asleep – Mulder had yet to see him awake – but Hammer and Skinner
were talking softly over his bed. "Hey,
Fox," Hammer smiled at him as he came in and Mulder smiled back as he
placed a hand on his Master's shoulder and gently kissed the other man's head. "How's
he doing?" "Don't
you dare!" A dry, rasping voice said and they all turned to gaze at Murray,
whose eyelids had fluttered open and who was staring at them as imperiously as
was possible when you're that ill. "Hey
you." Hammer clasped his lover's hand in his own, raised it to his lips,
and kissed it gently. "I might have known you'd have something to say on
that particular subject!" He grinned. Mulder
laughed out loud and squeezed his Master's shoulders. "I
think you're right, Murray," Skinner agreed, putting one hand over Mulder's
long fingers and stroking, tenderly. "What
the hell are all these damn tubes doing sticking out of me?" Murray
exclaimed. He tried to sit up and then lay back down as if he'd been toppled.
"Was I hit by a bus, Hammer?" He asked plaintively, sounding almost
like a little boy. "Hmph.
Don't say 'I told you so'," Murray murmured, gazing hazily at his lover.
"Always nagging me to eat right and do this and do that. Never met a more
pushy sub in my life." "That's
just the way you like it and you know it," Hammer retaliated with a grin. Mulder
had a sudden vivid glimpse into their relationship. It was very different to
that of his own with his Master. Hammer was the fusser, the nurturer, the one
who got things done. He effectively managed and took care of Murray who, Mulder
suspected, probably couldn't even take care of his own socks let alone his life.
Murray in return was a larger than life character who kept his sub constantly
entertained, and whose generosity and big heart were legendary on the scene.
Mulder was surprised to find tears pricking at the back of his eyes. Everyone
had their own way of making this work, and they were all different. He thought
of urbane, laid back Perry – never quite the stern master that his friend Ian
wanted, but prepared to inhabit the role periodically in order to keep his lover
happy. Murray loved being a top, more for the sense of drama and the chance to
dress up in elaborate costumes than because of any intrinsic interest in the
eroticism of the role, while Hammer, who, with his battered face and strong,
wiry body looked like the last person you'd want to meet on a dark night, worked
in a hospice, nursing the terminally ill, and was a super-efficient sub who
liked nothing better than taking charge of his eccentric, chaotic top. Then
there was himself and Skinner. Mulder glanced down at his Master, wondering how
they appeared to the outside world. Skinner was so calm, and good-natured,
prepared to be as strict as it took to keep Mulder from spinning off into space
in a self-destructive frenzy. Who on the outside understood the nuances of their
relationship? Who saw and understood that the veneer of slave and Master told so
little of the truth about what and who they were, and how they complemented each
other so well?
"Well…Murray
was pretty insistent that we shouldn't put it off on his account and we have
waited a long time…" Skinner hesitated and looked at his slave wearily.
"How do you feel about it?" He asked. Mulder
shrugged. "It'd be nice to proceed with our plans," he commented,
unsure exactly how he felt on the topic. "The room's all ready and
all the food and drink will be arriving on Saturday." "I
agree." Mulder nodded as he sighed. "But…damnit,
this is something we've both wanted for such a long time…and it'll be a
nightmare cancelling everything at the last minute," Skinner said.
"It'll probably be easier to go ahead with it than cancel." "Will
you be well enough, Master?" Mulder asked. "Me?
I'm fine," Skinner said tersely. "You
haven't been well and you're exhausted," Mulder pointed out gently. "It's
just a cold – it's already going and as for being tired, it's nothing that a
few good night's sleep won't cure," Skinner replied. "Okay
– then let's go for it!" Mulder had as little enthusiasm for the task of
calling everyone to cancel and dealing with the food and drink deliveries they
were expecting as his Master did. Skinner was right – it was simply easier
to go ahead with it…so why did Mulder feel a sense of foreboding settle into
the pit of his stomach as they made their decision? Mulder
barely saw his Master for the next few days. They were both busy tying up loose
ends at work prior to their vacation and Skinner’s end of year workload was
heavy and was taking some hugely long hours to shift. Skinner also liked to
visit Murray whenever he could as well so he never had any free time to spend
with his slave. Mulder felt himself becoming increasingly irritable as the day
of the branding drew closer. He snapped at the forensics lab who were providing
information for a report, and lost his temper with Scully – which he bitterly
regretted afterwards and told her so. "Are
you and Skinner doing anything nice?" Scully asked carefully, clearly
searching for a safe topic of conversation and unwittingly alighting on one that
was very far from being safe. Mulder
bit down on his bottom lip so savagely that he knew he'd drawn blood. Christ –
what the hell was wrong with him? He wanted to be branded as much as Skinner
wanted to brand him, so why did he feel so unsettled and at odds with the world
in general and himself in particular?
The door slamming alerted him to the fact that his Master had returned home.
Mulder went out into the hallway and gave the other man a faint smile. Skinner
still looked terrible, whatever he said, and that didn't help the jarring sense
of unease in Mulder's stomach. "Hiya."
Mulder pressed a kiss to his Master's cheek. "Hello,
Fox. What's cooking?" Skinner asked. "I didn't have time for lunch
today and I'm starving." "There's
nothing fucking cooking because I forgot to get any fucking food," Mulder
growled and then he charged up the stairs and threw himself into the bathroom,
slamming the door behind him. He washed his face in cold water and pulled
himself together, wondering what his Master had made of that display of temper.
He hadn't intended to behave so badly – it had just come out, and now he
regretted it, just as he regretted snapping at Scully earlier in the day. His
butt started to throb in anticipation of the strapping he was sure his Master
would dole out for his behaviour – Skinner hated being yelled or sworn at, and
rightly so. It was a lesson he had drummed into his slave a long time ago, one
of the first and most basic lessons of Mulder's slavery, and Mulder had just
demonstrated that it wasn't as well learned as it should have been. With a sigh,
Mulder decided to go down and face the music. He
found his Master sitting on the couch in the living room, still wearing his
coat. Wanda was sitting on his knee, trying desperately to get his attention by
rubbing her face against his chest but he was just staring out of the window,
weariness etched in every line on his face, his shoulders set in a dejected
slump. Mulder went to kneel beside him, full of abject remorse. "I'm
so sorry, Master," he whispered, resting his chin on Skinner's knee.
"I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. It's been…a difficult
day." Mulder
glanced up at his Master. "Will you punish me, Master?" he asked,
holding his breath. "What?"
Skinner looked down at his slave for the first time. "No, Fox," he
said gently. "I know you're getting nervous leading up to the big day. I
expected you to act out a bit. It's fine. We'll get there." "Master,
I deserve to be punished," he said, nudging Skinner's hand with his head,
much like Wanda did when she wanted his Master's attention. Skinner looked down
at him again and Mulder felt a wave of guilt course through him – Skinner was
just too damn tired to discipline his slave. Skinner looked so pale, drawn and
haggard that Mulder was surprised his Master was still standing; he looked
completely at the end of his tether. "Fox…I'm
not going to punish you. We both know why you acted out just then," Skinner
said softly. "Come here." He patted the couch beside him and Mulder
got up and sat next to his Master. Skinner put a weary arm around his slave's
shoulders, pulled him close, and kissed his head fondly. "You'll do fine,
Fox," he murmured. Mulder
swallowed down his frustrations. There was no way on earth he'd add to his
Master's burdens when Skinner was at such a low ebb. On the contrary – he'd do
his best, as he had been doing all week, to relieve the burden on his Master and
ensure that of all the areas of responsibility in his life, the one area that
Skinner would not have to worry about was his slave. "Thank
you, Master," he whispered, and then he got up and went to call for the
take out. When he returned to the living room a couple of minutes later he found
his Master already fast asleep on the couch. Mulder knelt and removed
Skinner’s shoes, loosened his pants, pulled a comforter over the sleeping man
and looked down on him for a moment, then gently soothed his Master's head with
light, loving fingers. "I'll
take good care of you, Master," he said softly. "I promise." The
day of the branding arrived and Mulder woke with what felt like a whole host of
butterflies in his stomach. He lay with his head on Skinner's bare chest for
half an hour, both of them awake, gazing at the ceiling, enjoying a few moments
together before their busy day began. "How
are you feeling?" Skinner asked. "Fine,"
Mulder lied. "Well, pretty nervous," he amended, although he was aware
that got nowhere close to the truth. "Me
too," Skinner admitted. They
got up, had breakfast, and checked the Playroom and upstairs apartment to make
sure they were ready to receive their guests. Then Skinner called his slave over
and clicked his fingers. Mulder sank obediently to his knees, and gazed up at
his Master. "All
right – for the rest of the day I want you naked. You can get dressed just
before our guests arrive," Skinner told him. "I want you to think
about what you are and what's going to take place in this room tonight." "I
want you to take some time for yourself," Skinner told him firmly.
"Find the heart of your submission, Fox, because I'll want you to offer it
up to me this evening. You're in deep submission – I don’t want you to talk
for the next few hours. Understood?" "I'm
going out for a few hours," Skinner told him and Mulder looked up wildly. "Where?
Now? Master…" He began, feeling frantic. "You're
in deep submission, slave," Skinner reminded him. "I'll only be a few
hours. You need some time on your own to ground yourself. I'll be back later.
You can go into any room you want – even the Playroom." Mulder
slowly undressed and then he stood there, uncertainly. Skinner hadn't allowed
him to see the brazier, which was screened off in one corner of the room, and he
wondered whether it would help him to take a good look at it or not. He decided
against it – his Master had screened it off for a purpose, and while he hadn't
forbidden Mulder to look at it, somehow it felt against the spirit of the
occasion to try and get a sneak peek prior to the evening's activities. Mulder
sat on the waiting massage table, and tried to imagine what it would feel like
being tied here, under the watchful gaze of 40 guests, but somehow he couldn't
manage it. Instead his mind kept going over the events of the week; he kept
seeing Murray, lying on that hospital bed attached to all those tubes, and his
Master, struggling with illness, worry, and all his usual responsibilities, and
starting to look, for the first time, as if it might all be too much for him.
Something else was bothering him as well…something that he had been pushing to
the back of his mind and refusing to think about, but now that he had the time
it came creeping in. He thought of Hammer, who had come so close to losing his
lover and top, and he knew then why his own worries for his Master's health were
nagging him so much. Skinner was so important a part of his life – how would
Mulder cope if something like this happened to him? Mulder shivered, his naked
flesh covered in goose-bumps. This was his worst nightmare made real. He had
struggled against his feelings, had tried not to love Skinner, because sooner or
later he always lost everyone he loved. He remembered those nightmares he'd had
early in his slavery, that Skinner would be taken from him, just as Samantha had
been taken and Scully. He lost the people he loved. It always happened, and for
that reason he had always tried to keep people at arm's length, to not let
anyone get close…but Skinner had snuck under his defences, and now Mulder was
deeply in love with the big man. Skinner wasn't just his lover and his Master
– he was the centre of Mulder's very existence. Skinner had made him belong,
had given him a place to take sanctuary, and had anchored Mulder with the force
of his love. Somehow
Skinner's absence exacerbated Mulder's fears. Without his large presence giving
Mulder reassurance and tangible proof that his Master was alive and well and
always would be, Mulder's worries were beginning to get too much for him. He was
a long way from being the man he had been before his slavery, who hovered so
close to self-destruction that emotional turmoil sent him spinning out of
control. The past 10 months as Skinner's slave had taught him so much and he
could handle his own crises much more effectively these days…but it was one
thing to control himself, and another to get himself anywhere near the headspace
he was supposed to be in for the evening's activities. Mulder resigned himself
to the fact that this was just going to be unpleasant – and he could deal with
that. He had dealt with worse things before – having his finger broken, being
beaten up and shot in the course of his work. He had no problem dealing with
pain, but his response to erotic pain had always been different. Erotic pain
allowed him to express himself in a way he never did when faced with more
mundane agony. From the very beginning of his time as Skinner's slave he had
cried when spanked hard, wriggled and writhed, squirmed and yelled…he let out
everything during sex games in a way he did not in his everyday life. There his
response to pain was fury rather than tears. He could ignore it, and even
control it, with a toughness that probably only his Master could match. Mulder
knew his own strength – but he bought it at a price, and that price was the
way he allowed himself to express pain, pleasure, fear, joy and all the other
feelings he experienced during sex games. Those were his release, the necessary
flip side to the way he fought the many pains he had encountered during the
course of his job. Tonight Skinner would be expecting his slave's usual response
to erotic pain…but Mulder was afraid that instead he would only be able to
offer Mulder's response, not that of the slave, Fox. Mulder would
struggle against being tied down, Mulder would scream and yell abuse at his
torturer…and Mulder would swallow his pain and turn his face against it – he
wouldn't look into Skinner's eyes with peace and acceptance, and he wouldn't
accept that brand on his body with joy and celebration. He would fight it all
the way. Mulder
took a deep breath and tried to get himself under control. Of one thing he was
certain: his Master must never know. Tonight, if he couldn't be Fox, if
he could only be Mulder, then he would just have to fake being Fox to the best
of his ability. Having made that decision Mulder felt calmer. He squared
his shoulders, knelt in the centre of the Playroom, and awaited his Master's
return. Skinner
was gone for a few hours, as he had said. When he found his slave kneeling in
the Playroom he smiled, crossed the room towards him and dropped a light kiss on
Mulder's forehead. "That's
a beautiful sight, little one. It never ceases to take my breath away," he
commented approvingly. Mulder smiled, glad that he was getting this right.
Skinner looked a little sweaty and his eyes were dark as if he had just
undergone some kind of ordeal. Mulder got up and put his hand on his Master's
forehead. "Are
you sure you're okay? I thought you were getting better," he commented
anxiously. "I
am. I'm feeling much better," Skinner assured him. "I just got a
little hot running up the stairs. More to the point – how are you
feeling?" "Good.
Then it's time we got ready," Skinner told him. "Take a shower, slave,
and get dressed for your branding." "I
love you, Fox," Skinner told him softly, swinging Mulder into his arms. He
kissed his slave on the mouth, slowly, savouring him, and Mulder melted against
his Master's chest. Skinner gave a slight grimace, as if in pain, and drew back. "Master?
Are you okay?" Mulder frowned, reaching out a hand to touch his Master's
chest. "I'm
fine." Skinner pushed his slave's hand away quickly. "Daylight's
burning, Fox. Go and get ready." Mulder
turned, frowning. Something else wasn't right here – something wasn't right
with Skinner…and that worried him all over again. He remembered Hammer saying
that Murray had just fallen over, clutching his chest… It would surely be too
much of a coincidence for Skinner to have a heart attack so close to Murray's,
but Mulder had seen too many X Files to be completely convinced on that point
and the thought nagged at him. He
took his shower and got dressed slowly. Instead of thinking about the evening
ahead, and how erotic it was dressing himself in the revealing clothes his
Master had chosen for him, he barely took any notice of his clothing, lost in
his own thoughts and half-formed worries. When
he was done he went downstairs to help his Master with his clothing but found,
to his dismay, that Skinner had already finished dressing. He stood there,
resplendent in the black moleskin pants and silky black shirt that Mulder
remembered so vividly from their first meeting as Master and slave. Skinner
looked truly magnificent, as ever, despite his pallor, but Mulder felt as if he
had been deprived of one last chance to find a space in his head where he could
become totally the slave once more, performing a duty for his Master, helping
the other man dress. "You
look good," Skinner said with a smile, admiring his slave. "Turn
around, boy, so I can get a good look at you." He twirled his arm around
and, feeling a bit stupid, Mulder turned to reveal his naked bottom, his
buttocks cosily sticking out from their framework of black leather. "Very
nice…very tempting," Skinner grinned. "I don't think I can resist
that sight – against the wall, Fox, in the grace position." Mulder
positioned himself against the wall, hands pressed against it, butt out, his
naked bottom feeling even more exposed in the revealing pants than they would
have done if he had been completely naked. "Mmm."
Skinner came up close behind him and grabbed his slave's buttocks, kneading them
hard. Mulder breathed in, enjoying an intimate moment with his Master for the
first time in days. He loved it when Skinner played with him, and he felt some
of his tension dissipate. Skinner drew back and then slapped Mulder's buttocks
hard, and Mulder moaned and pushed his butt out even more. Skinner had promised
to mark him, and maybe that would help him reach the serenity of subspace that
he needed so much right now. The spanking helped a little, and after a few
minutes Mulder's butt was thoroughly warmed up and he was too busy concentrating
on the stinging sensation in his ass to worry as frantically as he had been
doing. Then the spanking came to an end, and Skinner swung his slave around and
kissed him thoroughly. "Our guests will be here soon. Go upstairs, Fox.
I'll be with you in a second," he said. Mulder
stared at his Master…surely Skinner was going to mark him? His Master had told
him he'd be marked. While Mulder hated marking, he felt he needed it right now.
He needed proof of his Master's power over him…he needed to be taken down,
damnit! Surely…it wasn't possible that Skinner had forgotten, was it? His
Master was so precise and organised that Mulder had never known him forget
anything like this before – certainly not something this important…but it
was clear from Skinner's dark eyed gaze that he had forgotten. Mulder
considered reminding him, but decided against it. He could manage without being
marked and the last thing he wanted to do was draw his Master's attention to a
failing at this moment in time. Only Mulder knew how close Skinner had been to
buckling these past few days. He didn't want to give Skinner any cause to doubt
himself and lose confidence at this crucial moment in their relationship. So, he
ran off up the stairs, trying hard to forget his worries and resolved to enjoy
the party as best he could. Skinner
took his place beside Mulder a few minutes later, just as the doorbell
proclaimed the arrival of the first guest. Mulder was relieved and delighted to
find that it was Ian. "I
thought you'd need a friendly face as soon as possible," Ian said with a
grin. "I feel like I'm the bridesmaid come to attend the bride on her big
day." "Hmmm…I
wonder if it's as big as your Master's gun?" Ian said slyly and Mulder
grinned. It felt good to have his friend with him, especially when he was
feeling so out of sorts. "Is
Perry here?" Skinner asked. "He's
parking the car. I let him do all the masterful, being in charge stuff like
driving today, seeing as how this is a scene party. He rolled his eyes a bit but
I think he'll play along for the evening," Ian grinned. "He'll be up
in a minute. He is the technical consultant for the evening's entertainment
after all! I think he's looking forward to the kudos!" Now it was Ian's
turn to roll his eyes and Skinner laughed. The doorbell rang again and Skinner
went to answer it. "I'm
fine," he told Ian quietly, and his friend looked at him in surprise. "Is
everything okay?" Ian asked softly, glancing at Skinner and then back at
Mulder.
“You
look gorgeous!” Mulder said, taking her coat and kissing her. “My,
you look rather impressive yourself,” she replied with a sneaky grin at his
exposed backside. Mulder flushed. “This
will be such a beautiful celebration,” Elaine told him, grabbing his face and
looking at him proudly. “I’m so happy for you, darling.” Mulder felt
almost guilty for not being as happy about it as he was expected to be, and he
withdrew from her embrace with a wan smile, making an excuse to hurry away to
avoid her sharp, blue-eyed gaze.
The
highlight of the evening was Hammer's arrival, long after everyone else was
settled in and eating, drinking and chatting away merrily. "Sorry
I'm late. I wasn't sure I'd make it at all but Murray insisted. He wouldn't shut
up about it until I agreed to come," he told them with a weary, but
relieved smile. "How
is he?" Skinner asked and Mulder glanced at his Master, surprised. Hadn't
Skinner spent the afternoon with Murray? Where else had he been during those
missing hours if not at the hospital doing some visiting? "Tomorrow? So soon? That's excellent news!" Skinner exclaimed.
"Well, I can look after him better than they can – what he needs now is
nursing, and I'm the best nurse for him. I'm taking time off work until he gets
better so I can be with him all the time. They don't know how to handle him in
the hospital anyway." Hammer grinned. "He drives them all nuts –
when he isn't making them all laugh of course." Mulder
smiled – this was so much the Murray they all knew and loved, alternately
exasperating and amusing but never less than outrageous with a childlike
innocence and an equally childlike tendency towards throwing the occasional
tantrum. "This
is wonderful news, Hammer – the best I could have hoped to hear," Skinner
said in a heartfelt tone. "Come into the kitchen – let me get you a
drink." He put an arm around Hammer's shoulder and ushered him away. Mulder
was about to follow when his arm was grabbed and he found himself being dragged
into the bedroom. "Ian…what
are you doing?" He demanded. Ian
propelled him into the bedroom, shut the door firmly behind them, and threw
Mulder onto the coat-covered bed. "I
could ask you the same question," Ian hissed. "What the hell is going
on here, Mulder?" "Not
so fast." Ian stood his ground. "Mulder, I've been watching you all
evening and something isn't right. Walter is acting like some kind of
absent-minded professor and you…you just look so unhappy. This should be one
of the happiest days of your life and you look as if you're at a wake." "I
think the 'one of the happiest days of your life' thing is stretching the
wedding analogy a little too far," Mulder snapped. "It's just a
party." Mulder
felt as if he had been punched in the gut and yet in some ways it was a relief
not to have to hide any more. He sat down on the bed once more, with a heavy
sigh. "Ian,
I don't know what to do," he whispered, putting his head in his hands. "Why?
What's happened?" Ian crouched down in front of him, and removed Mulder's
hands from his face so that he could look into his friend's eyes. "Nothing…and
yet…everything is wrong," Mulder said. "We haven't had any time
together lately, and Walter hasn't been well. I'm genuinely concerned about his
health – he's doing too much and has been for months. I'm not in subspace,
Ian. I'm not anywhere near it. I'm dreading the branding – everything feels
wrong. I can't ask Walter for more of his time because god know the poor guy
doesn't have any more time left to give, but I need to be taken down and he's
too tired and stretched too thin to see that. I hate to have to say this after
the amount of time I've waited for this – but I'm not ready. I mean…"
Mulder screwed up his face. "I am ready for it to happen mentally – I
want it so badly…but I'm not in the right place emotionally or physically
today." He gazed at his friend, feeling utterly wretched. "Have
you told Walter any of this?" Ian asked. "No.
I can't. He has enough to deal with right now without me being demanding. I
thought I'd just get through this – it's just a hump. In a couple of weeks
it'll probably have all blown over." "Mulder,
you aren't being branded in a couple of weeks. You're being branded
tonight," Ian told him in a shocked tone. "This isn't something you
'get through' – you either do it because it's a beautiful, symbolic moment for
both of you, or you don't do it at all. Personally I don't see how you can even
contemplate it if you aren't in subspace. It's like being bullwhipped without a
warm-up – it just hurts." Mulder
gazed at his friend wearily. "I'll be able to handle it. It's only a
moment's pain." "I
won't feel like that," Mulder said angrily. "How
can you, of all people, say that?" Ian asked. "What about this."
He brushed aside the harness on Mulder's chest and laid his hand on the faint
scar he had revealed. "Look what extremes you went to in order to get this
off your body because of what it represented, Mulder," he said desperately. "You
have to tell him, Mulder," Ian told him urgently. "You have to. I
won't stand by and watch you being branded when you feel like this. It's
barbaric if you're not in the right headspace. I won't be party to it." Ian
stood up and gazed down at his friend sternly. Mulder was about to reply when
the door opened. They both turned, startled, to see Skinner standing in the
doorway. "Is
everything okay?" Skinner asked, clearly surprised. "Fox, I've been
looking all over the place for you. It's time." He glanced at his watch. "I
should be getting back to Perry," Ian said. "Mulder." He gazed at
his friend in a meaningful way and then gestured with his head towards Skinner.
Mulder shook his head mutely. Ian gave an audible sigh and then turned on his
heel and walked out the door, leaving Master and slave alone together. "What
was all that about?" Skinner asked. Mulder got up. "Nothing."
He smiled at his Master as he passed him on the way to the door. Skinner grabbed
his arm and shut the door with a sharp nudge from his boot. "Fox,
one of the first lessons I taught you was to be honest with me. Tell me what's
going on," Skinner said firmly. Mulder took a deep breath. It was clear his
Master wasn't going to be fobbed off with any more assurances that nothing was
going on, but at the same time, Mulder had no intention of ruining the evening
for everyone by backing out at this late stage. "I
was just having some last minute jitters, that's all," Mulder said. "Why
didn't you come to me?" Skinner looked genuinely hurt – which Mulder
hadn't expected at all. "I…I
didn't need to. It's nothing. I was just…" Mulder shrugged. "Just
nervous. Ian was giving me a pep-talk. That's all. Honestly." "Fox."
Skinner's dark eyes bored holes into his soul. "Are you sure that's
it?" Skinner asked. "Fox…I
won't brand you if there's a problem," Skinner told his slave. Mulder
looked up in alarm. "Master we have 40 people out there in case you've forgotten," he pointed out desperately. "And
one person in here – and he's the only one I'm interested in right now,"
Skinner told him firmly. He brushed one of his hands gently down the side of
Mulder's face, although he didn't release his grip on his slave's arm with his
other hand. "I won't do anything that would harm you, Fox." Mulder
closed his eyes. They had waited for this for so long – he wanted this, damnit!
No, he wasn't in the right mood for it today, but he wanted it. If he bailed out
now who knew when the chance would ever arise again – and what would their
guests think? It would be humiliating for the Guardian of the House if his own
slave turned around on his branding day and said he'd changed his mind. No.
Mulder couldn't bear for that to happen. "I'll
be fine," he said firmly. "I want this, Master." That much was
the truth, and, clearly swayed by the resolve in his slave's eyes, Skinner
finally released his slave's arm and smiled. "All
right, little one. Then let's go," he said softly. He pulled Mulder close
and kissed him firmly, and then ushered him out of the room, one arm around his
slave's shoulders. Mulder
felt as if he was in a dream as his Master walked him along the hallway towards
the Playroom. Their guests were already crammed into the Playroom waiting
eagerly for the evening's main event to begin, and an expectant hush fell on the
room as Master and slave made their entrance. The sea of people parted before
them, and Mulder felt his chest constrict as Skinner escorted him into the
centre of the room and then clicked his fingers to signify that Mulder should
kneel. Mulder did so, barely able to breathe as he felt the warmth emanating
from the furnace, still hidden behind the screen. This was going to happen. This
was actually going to happen! Panic stricken, he tried to gulp more air into his
body, longing for his Master's reassuring touch, but Skinner was busy addressing
the assembled guests. Mulder stifled a growl of claustrophic rage as it welled
up inside his throat. He didn't want to feel like this. His eyes flashed
frantically over the assembled throng. He couldn't let them down – he couldn't
let himself down…and, most importantly of all, he couldn't let his Master
down. He found one set of eyes in the crowd, met them, and couldn't tear his
gaze away. Ian's eyes were dark with worry, still desperately trying to
communicate with Mulder that this was wrong, and that he should put an end to
it. Mulder lowered his head so that he wouldn't have to meet that sharp,
inquiring gaze. His
Master was moving around, and the screen was being removed. Mulder took one look
at the exposed brazier with the branding iron sticking out and felt sick to the
pit of his stomach. He should be fighting…he wanted to lash out, and flee as
far away from this room as possible. His Master was looming over him now.
Skinner took Mulder's face in his hands, making him look up, but Mulder wouldn't
meet his Master's eyes. He stood, under his Master's guidance, but still he
wouldn't look at Skinner. "Fox…"
Skinner's hands rubbed his arms gently. "Are you with me?" "Fox…what
are you?" Skinner whispered softly. "I'm
your slave, Master," Mulder said, almost inaudibly, every muscle in his
body screaming his tension. His Master's hands felt hot and heavy on his skin
and he wanted to throw them off. He shook his arms involuntarily, dislodging his
Master. "I…can't,"
Mulder hissed, keeping his gaze fixed on a spot over his Master's shoulder. "Fox…I'm
going to start undressing you now," Skinner said softly. Mulder knew the
routine – his Master had told him what would happen. He would undress Mulder
in front of their guests, leaving his slave completely naked, and then he would
tie his slave tightly to the massage table. Skinner placed his hands on the
golden harness covering Mulder's chest and began unbuckling it. Mulder couldn't
help himself. He gave a low growl, and his hand came up and took hold of his
Master's wrist in a firm grip. Skinner stopped immediately. Mulder kept his gaze
fixed on a spot in the distance so it came as a surprise to him when he felt a
sharp slap on his cheek. It seemed to bring him back into focus, and he found
himself looking into his Master's dark eyes. "You're
not in sub-space, Fox," Skinner told him in a low voice – too low to be
heard by the watching throng. "You've been lying to me…you've been
pretending." "What?"
Mulder clenched his fists by his side. "I can do this, damnit,
Walter!" he exclaimed. "I'm
sure you can. I, however, can't," Skinner told him. "Go, Fox.
Now." Mulder
looked at his Master and then at the expectant faces in the room. If he left now
he'd not only be bailing out on his Master but he'd be leaving him to clear up
his mess after him. "Fox…it's
okay," Skinner told him gently. "Just go. I'll be along in a
minute." As
they walked towards the stairs, Mulder heard Skinner's voice addressing their
guests, although he couldn't hear what his Master was saying. "You
did the right thing," Ian told him. "He
did. I didn't do anything," Mulder muttered. "You
and he together – you did the right thing," Ian said sharply. "I
know how hard it was for you to walk out of that room, Mulder but it was the
right thing." He walked Mulder down the stairs and along the hallway to his
Master's bedroom, then sat Mulder on the bed and went into the en-suite
bathroom, returning with a glass of water. Mulder gulped it down gratefully. "Oh
shit. What a fucking mess," Mulder sighed. "You
have no fucking idea how much I wanted this," Mulder growled, utterly
desolate. "Christ I hate myself right now." He lay down on the bed and
brought his knees up against his chest in the foetal position. "Not
as much as you'd have hated yourself if you'd gone through with that branding
this evening," Ian told him forcefully. Mulder didn't reply. He lay there
for a long time, and then glanced up at his friend, who was sitting beside him,
a worried expression on his face. "Ian…I
need to be alone," he said, desperately needing to pull himself together
before his Master came down. Ian hesitated. "It's okay – I won't do
anything stupid. I just need to get my head together. Please."
"I will. And Ian…" He called the other man back from the door.
"Thanks," Mulder said softly. Ian smiled and nodded, then left the
room.
Upstairs
Mulder heard the sound of feet moving and people calling goodbye to each other.
The upstairs front door seemed to close an interminable number of times as their
guests left the party, and then, after about half an hour, he heard a tread on
the stairs. He stood up straight, trembling slightly, waiting for his Master,
and a few seconds later he heard the bedroom door open. There was silence for a
moment, followed by a deep heartfelt sigh. "I
think we have a lot of talking to do, Fox," he said, gently but firmly. "Yes,
Master," Mulder said with a sigh. "I'm sorry." "So
am I." Skinner sat down on the bed and pulled his slave down beside him. He
put his arm around Mulder and his slave rested his head on his Master's
shoulder. "I didn't realise you were having problems, Fox. I wish you'd
felt you could have told me." "You're
not a problem, Fox. You’re my beloved slave." Skinner kissed his slave's
cheek. They were silent for awhile then Skinner gave a wry chuckle. "You
– when I think how you started out when I first took you as my slave –
everything was about you…it's almost as if you've gone too far in the other
direction now, to the point where you'd prefer to have a burning iron pressed
into your skin when you aren't in the right frame of mind to handle it, than
upset me. I can see we need to work on some balance here, Fox." "Yeah."
Mulder made a wry face. "You know me, Walter. I exist in a state of
extremes." "Have
they all gone?" Mulder asked. "The guests?" "They
were fine about it. I explained that we'd had a difficult week and we hadn't had
time to prepare properly. They'd already had a lot of food and drink and a fine
time catching up with friends and they all understood." "I
hope so," Mulder murmured. They
were silent for a long time, and then Skinner squeezed Mulder's shoulder again. "I
think it's time to discuss this," he said. "What went wrong, Fox? What
was going on in your head?" "All
right, Fox. Let's go back to basics here." He clicked his fingers and
Mulder sat up, startled. "On the floor, in the confessional position,"
Skinner ordered. Mulder
stared at his Master, confused. They hadn't done any formal confessionals for
months now – they talked so much more easily and freely than they had at the
beginning that it wasn't necessary. "Quickly, slave." Skinner made it
clear this wasn't going to be an optional discussion – it was a Master/slave
issue and would be dealt with as such. Mulder
got into position on the floor beside the bed. He pressed his nose onto the
carpet and waited for the words to come. "I
won't interrupt you and you can say whatever you like." Skinner reminded
him of the rules. "In your own time, but you must be honest and you must
talk, slave." "I've
been struggling for several days, Master. There were several things going on –
it's confusing. Murray's heart attack….made me worried about you," he
said. "About
me?" Skinner sounded surprised and Mulder looked up at his Master. Skinner
rarely interrupted him during a confessional. "I'm sorry – carry
on," Skinner murmured. "You've
been under a lot of strain recently. Murray's illness was one more thing you had
to deal with – and you did. You visited him every night even though you were
busy clearing your workload prior to our vacation. You also had a cold, and you
weren't getting enough sleep. I love you, Master, and it worried me. Seeing
Murray lying there, watching Hammer deal with his illness…made me wonder how
I'd deal with it if it had been you…and I couldn't get that worry out of my
mind." Mulder
was silent for a while. Skinner said nothing. Finally, Mulder sighed, knowing
his Master wouldn't let him stop until it was all out in the open. "I
couldn't get into sub space, Master because I barely saw you this past week. I
needed to spend some time with you but it didn't happen and you had too many
other things to deal with to make it happen. I do understand that. I hated
feeling needy when you were so stressed out but this was a time when I really
did need you to be my Master. Not Walter, not my lover, but my Master. The
branding is a huge deal for me – I need to feel every inch your slave and I
need to feel that you are every inch my Master, but instead you cut me some
slack when I acted out when instead I wanted to be reined in. I needed you to be
particularly strict and stern with me – not kind and understanding - but
really tough and uncompromising. I needed to be taken down. Today…today you
left me alone when I needed you to be there. I'm sorry…I tried to get into the
right mindset without you…but you didn't even mark me…" Mulder trailed
off, biting his lip, hating what he was having to say. "Not that marking
would have solved the problem necessarily, but…" Mulder shrugged. "I
wanted to bathe and dress you before the ceremony but you didn't let me do
that." He pressed his nose further into the carpet. "I'm sorry. I
should have told you all this before now. I just thought I could get through the
branding without you finding out – that even if it was an ordeal I could
handle it rather than disappoint you. Ian said I had to tell you. He's learned
his lessons better than I have. Wasn't that one of the first lessons you taught
me? I must always be honest with my Master? I screwed up on that, big
time." Mulder finished with a
sigh and knelt there, waiting to hear his Master's reaction. Skinner was silent
for several minutes, and then, finally, he spoke. "I
think that's about the truth of it, Master. So…what now?" "We
put it behind us and move on," Skinner told him firmly. "I'll
make one thing clear right now – I'm in charge," Skinner said firmly.
"However for the next two days I think we both need to be kind to
ourselves. So, we'll just spend the days hanging out together and resting – we
need that to get ourselves back together physically if nothing else, or at least
I certainly do. I've been running on empty and ignoring the signs. For future
reference – if I ever do that again, Fox, you are under orders to tell me so
and to insist I get some rest. I feel as if I need a week's worth of sleep to
recoup my energy levels." "You
won't be in any doubt who is the Master by the time I do come to brand you, Fox.
I can promise you that. I’ll take you down to the most basic level of your
slavery." "One
more thing," Skinner said, with a sigh, and Mulder looked up again,
wondering what was coming next. "The issue of why I wouldn't allow you to
bathe and dress me, and where I went today…I can see it wasn't a good move to
leave you alone for those few hours. If it's any consolation…it was done for
the best of intentions. You see…I wanted to do something to surprise you. I
thought that as you were going to take my mark onto your body today, then I also
wanted to make a similar commitment to you. I intended to show you this after
your branding, so this spoils the moment a bit…but I think you need to see it
now. You'll see it before long in any case as I won't be able to hide it until I
do brand you." And so saying, Skinner unbuttoned his silk shirt to
reveal a small white dressing over his chest. "Oh
shit…it's perfect," Mulder said softly – and it was. The little
creature had bright, inquisitive golden eyes and bushy orange/brown fur. It had
clearly been drawn by a talented tattoo artist. It looked intensely lifelike –
and very appealing. Somehow the artist had imbued the fox with an innate
curiosity and sense of innocence that made the tattoo all the more enchanting. "They had to shave some of my chest hair," Skinner grimaced, "but I wanted it placed here on purpose. I already carry you in my heart, Fox – so I knew you'd understand the symbolism of this."
"Did it hurt?" Mulder reached out a finger and gently touched the
surface of the tattoo. "Yes."
Skinner grinned. "But I figured that if you were going to undergo a painful
marking process then I would too." "You
didn't wimp out of anything – you'll have that brand, but in my time,"
Skinner said firmly. "Thank you." Mulder gently fingered the tattoo in wonder. "So this is why you winced and pulled away from me earlier - with my stupid, overactive imagination I thought it might be because you were about to have a heart attack - just like Murray." He shook his head, laughing at himself bitterly. "I had no idea that was going on inside you head." Skinner sighed. "If I had, I'd have put a stop to it there and then." "It's so strange – when I woke up this morning I knew one of us would get marked today. I just didn't realise it would be you and not me." Mulder smiled at the irony. "I feel very honoured that you did this for me, Master. I'll do my best to be worthy of it." He pressed his lips against the tattoo with a gossamer light touch and Skinner sighed and ruffled his slave’s hair.
"Fox – it was my pleasure. I wanted to do it. I wanted you to understand
that you aren't the only one who wants to live with a celebration of our
relationship embedded in your flesh." Skinner's dark eyes were alight with
love. "Come here." Skinner lay down on the bed with an exhausted smile
and beckoned his slave to lie beside him. Mulder obeyed eagerly, resting his
head on his Master's shoulder. "What a day," Skinner sighed. "Yeah."
Mulder gave a wry chuckle. "One
more thing, boy…" Skinner squeezed Mulder's shoulder with his hand,
holding him tight. "I can't promise that I won't die, Fox. Nobody can
promise that," he said softly. "I can't promise I won't fall ill, any
more than you can promise that somebody won't take a pot-shot at you when you're
out in the field one day. We lead more dangerous lives than most, after all.
However, I have no intention of keeling over just yet. I have a lot of living I
want to do, especially now that I have you here, keeping me on my toes and
providing me with so much fun, excitement and sheer erotic pleasure." Mulder
glanced up into his Master's brown eyes to find them more serious than he had
expected. "But…"
Skinner bestowed a kiss on his slave's forehead. "I might die one day,
Fox…as might you. When Andrew died and when Sharon died I experienced intense
grief and I know that if you died I would be desolate…but I would carry on.
I'd survive – a little tattered and torn around the edges maybe, and with a
bruised heart, but I'd keep on putting one foot in front of the other, trusting
myself to the kindness of my friends, because if there was one thing that Andrew
taught me it was that I had to carry on. If I'd crumbled after he'd died, I
would have let him down. I feel the same way about you, Fox. I hope I've given
you something, not taken away from you. I hope I haven't made you so dependent
on me that you can't lead your life without me. I hope you've become stronger
during our time together, not weaker. You've always been a survivor, Fox – I
hope that if I died you'd do just that: survive. Because if you turned your face
away from life then I'd have failed in every single thing I tried to do." "Yes.
Yes I am. Do you understand that, little one? Will you promise that, if the day
should ever come, you'll obey me in this?" Skinner held him tight and
Mulder shivered, as if someone had walked over his grave. He gazed at his
Master, his finger still tracing the little fox that adorned the other man's
skin, and then, finally, he gave a long, loud sigh. "Yes,
Master. I promise," he said softly. "Good."
Skinner leaned over and kissed him firmly on the mouth. Mulder opened up,
surrendering to his Master's kisses, always wanting more. Finally Skinner
released him and they both lay there in companionable silence for awhile. Skinner
was still sleeping when Mulder woke the next day. Mulder slid out of the bed,
leaving his Master still lying there, Wanda curled up on his pillow, her chin
resting on Skinner's shoulder. Mulder smiled at the sight and then went
downstairs. It was already ten o' clock but Mulder had no intention of waking
his Master – he wanted Skinner to get all the rest he needed for the next few
days. Mulder made himself some coffee and settled down to read the paper,
checking on his Master at regular intervals. At just gone 11, the phone rang.
Mulder grabbed it quickly, hoping it hadn't woken his Master in the upstairs
bedroom. "Hi,
it's me," Ian's voice said. "I was just calling to see if you're
okay." "Thanks,
Ian – if it hadn't been for you I'm not sure the evening would have ended so
well," Mulder admitted. "You're
welcome, friend! So, have the calls begun yet?" Ian asked. "What
calls?" Mulder queried blankly. "Well
it's early yet. Give it awhile and you'll see," Ian told him with a laugh.
They chatted for a few minutes and then the conversation ended. Mulder had no
sooner disconnected than the phone rang again. "Mulder?
It's Elaine. How are you, darling?" She asked, in her familiar warm tones. "I'm
fine. Look, I'm sorry about last night," he began. "Oh
hush. I'm not calling to make a fuss. I'm calling to make sure you're both all
right. I've never seen Walter look so tired or you so dispirited. Usually you're
the most high octane person I’ve ever met! And he's always filled with that
Walter sense of purpose and determination. You were like two different people
last night." "Mulder!
It's Hammer. I've just got Murray home and settled in and I wanted to call to
make sure you were okay…" "How's
Murray?" He asked. "He's
fine – in fact he's gesticulating wildly at me because he wants to talk to you
too!" Hammer said. "He'll have to wait though. Mulder, I know you must
be feeling pretty disappointed right now. I've been branded – I know what it
feels like and I know it was one of the best days of my entire life, but I also
know that it wouldn't have been for you if you hadn't been in the right place
last night. Yes, Murray, give me a second will you!" Hammer chided his
lover, laughing as he did so. Mulder smiled to himself. "I've
no doubt Walter will brand you – but it'll be at the right time in the
right circumstances," Hammer informed him. Mulder felt a little shiver of
anticipation sweep through him and with it came a sense of total relief – he
had worried that he'd never feel this way about being branded again - but this
was a start. With his Master's undivided attention he knew he could find his way
back into the beautiful serenity of subspace and total submission - and from
there his branding could be the beautiful experience that Hammer spoke of. Mulder
took the phone off the hook after speaking to Hammer and Murray and went back
upstairs to find his Master, amazingly, still fast asleep. In fact Skinner
didn't wake until a well after noon, and, Mulder was pleased to note, his Master
looked much better than he had done in days. His skin was pinker, and had lost
its pallor. Mulder
was as good as his word and spent the next couple of days throwing himself
whole-heartedly into taking care of his Master. He bathed, shaved, massaged and
dressed Skinner, and under his ministrations his Master swiftly recovered from
the last vestiges of his cold. Skinner also caught up on his sleep and with
Murray home and off Skinner's ‘to worry about’ list, the big man started to
look more like his old self. Skinner didn't make any use of his slave, but
Mulder was content enough – somehow they both needed the space and anyway it
was nice just being together, talking quietly about anything but the scene, or
their roles, or the branding. These were subjects they avoided altogether until
they retired to bed a couple of evenings later. Then Skinner turned out the
light, and pulled his slave close. "Feeling
apprehensive, Fox?" He asked quietly. "Yes,
Master." Mulder gave a little shiver. "With
good reason," Skinner told him in solemnly. "Tomorrow I'm going to
take you right back down to basics. These will be a demanding few days." "I
won't brand you until I'm sure you're ready, but this time I want you to
understand that it'll be my decision, and not yours. Do you understand
that?" "Good."
Skinner kissed his slave firmly on the cheek. "Good night then, boy."
He turned over and settled into his pillow. Mulder lay there in the darkness for
a few minutes, pondering hard, until Skinner let out a loud sigh. "Fox,
I swear that the sound of your mind chewing over a problem is the loudest thing
I've ever heard," he said. "What is it? I don't want you lying here
all night worrying – I want you fresh and alert and ready to fully embrace
your slavery first thing tomorrow morning." "I
just didn't want you to think I was fighting you or fighting being
branded. I want to obey you, to do everything you ask of me, but I think I might
dig my heels in like a stubborn mule and fight you instead. Shit, I don't know
why I feel like this but I do," he sighed. Mulder closed his eyes, his mind eased by the conversation. Now he had no choice but to just surrender himself to his Master. Skinner would take care of the rest, and, however hard it might be, Mulder knew that his eventual submission would be all the sweeter for it.
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