Posted 10th October, 1999.

WARNING: The title says it all really. It's all here, graphically rendered in *loving* detail. 

Many thanks to Emma, who told me a very intriguing tale that sparked this story off, as well as providing invaluable technical assistance, and some rather interesting ideas...

Quotation courtesy of my sweet Alex. None of this is beta'd. It's far too much fun to take seriously.

Beautiful title pic courtesy of Sergeeva.

24/7 is an erotic fantasy and NOT a BDSM resource guide. The truth is sometimes exagerrated, or played with, for dramatic effect. For more information, please visit the 24/7 BDSM Glossary.

"A truth, still apparent, though disregarded, that
 things move violently to their place, but calmly in
 their place.  To put it another way, everything has
 its right home, the region that suits it, and, unless
forcibly restrained, will move thither by a kind of
 homing instinct."

   J. Winterson
   "Art and Lies"

Part Six: The Piercing.

Mulder lay in the bed next to Skinner, trying to pretend that he'd been there all night. He hadn't. After that mind blowing sex the previous day, both men had taken a long time to wind down. Skinner had helped his stricken slave into the bath, then they had eaten together in companionable silence, after which Skinner had sent him off to bed. It had been early, but Mulder was too wrung out to argue. He had fallen asleep almost immediately, his entire body in a state of sated exhaustion. Neither of them had mentioned the 'L' word again but Mulder knew that his feelings had undergone a profound transformation. It was too soon for him to know what the implications of that were. He just knew that when he opened his eyes the following morning, and saw Skinner's signature scrawled across the Master contract on his nightstand, his heart leapt. He lay there just looking at it, feeling warm and safe.

After staring at both contracts for a few minutes, he got up and made Skinner his coffee, then some devil in him prompted him to take it up ten minutes early. He tiptoed into the bedroom, and put the coffee and paper on the nightstand, then crept silently into the bed, and snuggled up beside his sleeping Master. Now he was busy convincing himself that he'd slept the night in Skinner's arms. It was a nice fantasy, and it wasn't even spoiled by Wanda's furry presence tickling his toes.

Mulder's whole body felt tingling, and alive, and overnight he had become a great believer in the restorative powers of explosive orgasms. He wasn't really sure what was going on in his heart or mind. He'd started off trying to play Skinner, but somewhere along the way the rules seemed to have been changed, and he wasn't sure how, or why, or even what to do about it. For now, he decided to do nothing, and just give himself up to the moment. Resistance was not only futile, it wasn't even possible in the face of such an overwhelming opponent. Besides, Mulder wasn't even sure that he wanted to resist. For now at least. A nagging voice in the back of his head worried about how he was going to cope with these new emotions when he and Skinner returned to work. Mulder wasn't an idiot - he knew that his passion for his work had only been temporarily dampened during this week spent enjoying other passions. What would happen when his duties as a slave conflicted with his duty to his quest? Mulder resolved that he would answer those questions when they arose. For now, he had this week, this one week, with all the joys and terrors that it both threatened and promised to bring.

Mulder mulled over the events that Skinner had outlined to him. Firstly, the piercing. Mulder shivered. Skinner had said that would be Wednesday or Thursday. Mulder ran his fingers over his nipples, wondering how they would look, pierced with his Master's rings. He longed to finally be wearing all five of the tokens his Master had given to him upon taking him as his slave, but his stomach churned at the thought of the piercing. He didn't have so much as a pierced ear, and he wasn't sure how he would cope when that needle pricked through one of his primary erogenous zones. Of course it could be worse…Mulder's cock went into a scared spasm at that thought. He continued playing with his now hard nipples. Phoebe had whipped them once, but she had been contemptuous about his inability to cope with as much pain as she wanted to deliver, ruining the scene for both of them. Skinner was right - his nipples were huge erogenous zones for him. He enjoyed having them sucked, and while the idea of being decorated in this way at his Master's hand was a turn on, he was worried that he wouldn't be able to stand the pain.

Mulder glanced at the clock as these thoughts churned through his head, watching as it ticked over: 8:57, 8:58, 8:59…9:00. Then he disappeared under the sheets…and found himself face to face with Wanda.

"Go," he hissed, disturbed by the idea of performing in front of that green-eyed audience. She blinked at him, and didn't budge. Mulder licked his lips - he could see his Master's cock, and longed to show the other man some small gratitude for that mind-blowing session in the Playroom the previous day. Ignoring the cat, Mulder nudged forward and gently started his wake-up call.

Mulder enjoyed this part of the day best. Being able to serve his Master, bringing him to climax, and then having a few minutes nestled on Skinner's shoulder, or draped over his chest afterwards. The big man didn't seem to mind Mulder's need to get close to him while he drank his coffee, and read his paper. In fact he appeared to like it, and amused himself stroking Mulder's body absently while he read, as if his slave were a cat. Skinner's fingers idly played with Mulder's nipples, as the slave lay watching his Master drink.

"Master…" he began.

"Hmmm?" Skinner carried on reading.

"About the piercing…" Mulder hesitated.

Skinner looked down on him, and squeezed the nipple he was playing with encouragingly. "Yes."

"Um, you have done it before haven't you?" Mulder asked.

Skinner laughed. "Yes, Fox. I've done it before."

Mulder sat and considered that information, thinking of Skinner sitting in all those meetings with him for all those years, while secretly having this particular skill. It was scary - and his cock made it quite clear that he found it a turn-on too. All that time spent searching for this uber-top, and he had been sitting within arm's reach, one step ahead the entire time.

"Do you, is there…I mean, do you swab the, um, area, with local anaesthetic?" He asked hopefully.

Skinner folded up his paper, and turned his attention to his slave. "No, Fox," he said gently. "I'll certainly disinfect the nipple, but even if you had it done by a professional they don't usually anaesthetize first."

"Oh." Mulder shivered. "It's going to hurt then?" he ventured. Skinner's fingers continued to brush over his nipples, playing with them. Mulder moaned, leaning into the embrace.

"Fox, it will hurt, yes," Skinner told his slave honestly, looking down into his eyes. "I know these are particularly sensitive areas of your body, but trust me, they'll look beautiful. As for the pain - it's intense, but the worst of it is over with very quickly. There's some throbbing afterwards, and they'll take several days to heal completely. I'll limit playing with them while they're healing - although I will train you to the leash during that time. I find the vulnerable sensation of newly pierced nipples gives a considerable incentive towards the training. Do you have any more questions?" he asked encouragingly.

"Supposing I can't stand the pain? What if I pass out?" Mulder hated himself for being such a wimp, but he was terrified by the thought of disappointing his Master. He had never cared this much about pleasing a top since Phoebe. After she had ripped his chest open and pulled his heart out, he had never allowed himself to get close to another top. He used them, and he didn't care what they got from it or what they thought of him. This was different though. This was Skinner - his Master.

"Sometimes people do pass out." Skinner shrugged. "As for the pain - you'll stand it, little one, because I'll make you. It's not a choice." He lifted Mulder's chin, and kissed him sweetly on the lips. "Your body is mine to decorate as I wish," he reminded his slave.

"Yes, Master," Mulder muttered, trembling slightly. He loved the words, he just wasn't sure about the reality. Knowing that he didn't have any choice was a relief though. It was out of his hands. He had no say in the matter. Mulder relaxed, enjoying the way his Master was playing with the nipples in question, and arching into the caress. He didn't have to worry about it any more. It wasn't going to happen for a couple of days anyway…"Master?" He ventured.

Skinner sighed. "Slave," he replied, pinching a nipple playfully.

"You said Wednesday, or Thursday? Which day will it be? I'd like to, um, prepare. In my head."

Skinner looked down on him steadily for a moment. "I will give you all the preparation you need," he stated forcefully. "And I think, Fox, that if I told you which day, you wouldn't use the time to prepare - you'd use it to fret."

Skinner considered it for a moment, his expression thoughtful. Mulder looked up into his Master's dark eyes, whimpering as the other man's fingers rubbed his nipples to hard points, making his cock follow suit, straining against the cock ring that Skinner insisted he wore at all times - turning every arousal into an erection of some duration. Sometimes he felt like he had a permanent hard-on which might have been gratifying for his Master but was damn painful for the slave, especially as he wasn't allowed to come.

"You know… I see no reason to delay," Skinner said, unexpectedly. "I'm a flexible man, Fox. I was going to concentrate on the wider aspects of your training for the next few days, but I think, as you're so anxious about this particular event, that I'll move it forward and pierce you today instead. That way you won't have time to worry yourself into a frenzy."

"What?" Mulder sat up, startled.

"Yes." Skinner nodded firmly. "Today."

"Please, Master, I didn't mean…" Mulder floundered, flying into a panic. Today?! "That is, hell, you don't have to do this for me! I can wait a couple of days. No problem!"

"Hush." Skinner kissed him into silence, then flicked his fingers at the floor by the bed. Mulder immediately scrambled down and got into position, knees open, shoulders straight, head down. "All right - listen to me," Skinner said in that low, throaty voice that his slave found so arousing. "For the rest of the day, I want you to be in a state of deep submission. I'll expect you to be able to enter this state at will by the end of our week together, but you'll spend the next few days learning how to reach it. By Friday, I expect you to be fairly proficient - you'll spend the entire party in a deeply submissive mind-set and you won't come out of that until I give you permission."

"Yes, Master." Mulder said, not looking up.

"Good." Skinner patted his head. "The first rule is that you will only speak when spoken to. You will not speak at any other time, unless it is to draw my attention to something important. Failure to follow this rule will result in punishment, which is likely to be several hard strokes of the crop, or cane. Understood?"

"Yes, Master." Mulder could have cursed his treacherous cock for showing Skinner how much this scenario turned him on.

"Good. Secondly - when you are not working on a task I have given to you, you will kneel in this position beside me at all times." Skinner emphasized those last words, sternly. "That's important. I want you next to my knee, so I can touch you, or use you if I wish, without inconvenience."

"Yes, Master," Mulder whispered, tingling at the thought of being 'used'.

Skinner placed a finger under his slave's chin, making Mulder look up at him. "Do not just play lip service to this, Fox," he warned. "Use the time to enter into a head-space where you fully embrace your slavery, and accept your Master's will totally. That means no smart comments, no answering back, and no making faces when I ask you to do something."

Mulder swallowed. "Yes, Master," he said.

"Give yourself up to your submission, and you'll do fine." Skinner smoothed Mulder's hair affectionately. "I won't ask you to exist in this submissive head-space permanently. I've told you before - I want a smart, witty, intelligent slave, who is able to act on his own initiative. When I've finished your training, you'll be able to enter into this most submissive state at the click of my fingers, without argument, or resentment. That won't happen overnight though. We have a lot of work to do to help you get there."

"I understand, Master." Mulder could feel himself start to tremble, as he always did when Skinner spoke to him in this serious way. His Master's expression didn't soften, but his voice caressed Mulder lightly as he continued.

"Fox - don't fight it. Today, of all days, it's important that you follow my instruction to the letter. If you do, then you'll find your Piercing to be an experience of profound submissive satisfaction. If you don't, then it'll just be painful."

Mulder's throat had gone dry, and he couldn't even begin to speak. He just nodded.

"I've given you a lot of leeway in the past couple of days," Skinner told him, cradling Mulder's face gently in his hand, stroking the slave's cheek with his thumb. "I wanted to win your trust, and show you some of the treats that were on offer. Now, as it's Monday, I think it's time to get down to some proper work if I'm going to get you ready by the end of the week. I won't ever be harsh, little one," he said softly, "but you will find me very strict. Unless I tell you otherwise, you can assume that you're in deep submission mode all week. Tomorrow, when you bring me my coffee, you'll perform your wake-up duty, and then kneel beside the bed in position until it's time for your morning discipline. That is the morning ritual you will follow this week. If you do well, then you'll be allowed to stay in the bed while I drink my coffee next weekend."

Mulder's heart sank. No more fondling, no more lying with his head on his Master's chest until next Saturday? How would he be able to get through five whole days without that little treat.

"Fox," Skinner said warningly. "I've been settling you in gently, but I have very high and exacting standards for my slave. You can expect some severe restrictions during your training."

"Yes, Master." Mulder croaked faintly.

"When I'm satisfied with you, and I think you've learned how to be completely submissive, then I'll allow you more freedom," Skinner said. "I want you to be a credit to me, Fox, and I'm sure you will be."

"I want that too, Master," Mulder said quietly.

"Good. Then we both have the same goal in mind. Fox," Skinner's hand smoothed Mulder's hair away from his face. "There are rewards for learning your lessons well," he said. "If you try hard this week, and make me proud of you at the party, then I'll grant you a treat. What would you like for your reward? A session in the Playroom? A special fantasy played out? Tell me."

Mulder didn't even need to think about it. "I'd like to spend a whole night in your bed, sleeping in your arms, Master," he said, flushing furiously, knowing his fantasy revealed too much, but wanting it too badly to stop himself asking. Skinner's dark eyes looked at him gravely for what seemed like an eternity, but his hand never stopped caressing Mulder's hair. Mulder held his breath, scared that Skinner would refuse him. Instead of it being a simple request, easily granted, he was suddenly aware that he had asked for something of considerable magnitude, and he almost backtracked, annoyed with himself.

"All right." Skinner said, with a nod. Mulder's heart did a somersault. "Pay attention to what I have to teach you, do your best to learn, and obey, and I'll take you to my bed after the Party. However, Fox…" Skinner's eyes held a warning in them. "This has to be earned," he stated seriously. "It's not a foregone conclusion."

"No, Master. I understand. I promise I'll try hard." Mulder said, surprising himself with his earnest reply.

"Good." Skinner pointed to his lap. "Over my knee," he ordered.

Mulder swiftly got into position, arranging pillows under his thighs to lift his ass up for Skinner's attention. His Master didn't immediately dispense the morning discipline though. Instead he examined Mulder's body minutely. "Do you hurt anywhere after yesterday?" he asked, one hand stroking Mulder's buttocks, the other working its way into his slave's lubed anus.

"No, Master."

"What about here - sore?" Skinner's fingers worked harder, opening Mulder up beneath their insistent caress.

"A little, Master," Mulder admitted, with a wriggle that earned him a hard slap on his rump. "Fox, you're mine. You'll allow me to touch any part of my property without squirming, or making a fuss," Skinner told him firmly. "Now, turn around, I want to examine you properly."

Mulder knelt in place as ordered, head facing towards Skinner's knees, butt raised in mid-air. He flushed bright red as Skinner pried his buttocks open, and checked him over thoroughly. His Master's fingers dipped in and out of his anus, cool and probing.

"Fine." Skinner slapped Mulder's butt lightly. "Get back in place. You've been nicely stretched, but there's no tearing," he told his slave. "That's good - it means I'll be able to use you again later today - after piercing you. You might find it sore after yesterday, but as I said, you should get accustomed to being used, and the sooner the better. It'll be an almost daily occurrence from now on. I think a combination of that, and daily discipline, should serve to remind you who you belong to, as well as reinforcing the lesson that you are a slave, and subject to your Master's will."

Mulder felt a thrill running through his body at Skinner's words. He had always enjoyed the extreme submissive kick that he got from the idea of receiving anal sex from a top, but Skinner was the first one he had trusted to give him that without causing him damage. The idea of being on the receiving end of his Master's attention on a daily basis, struck a nerve deep inside him, and made his cock, that barometer of his mind's arousal, go instantly hard.

Mulder heard Skinner open a drawer in his night-stand. Looking over his shoulder, he saw his Master retrieve a small, hard, functional black leather paddle from the drawer. Skinner looked back at him, and frowned.

"Fox - when you've been placed in deep submission, you'll keep your eyes down at all times," he informed him tersely. Mulder bit on his lip, and rested his head on his arms. Nobody had ever required him to do anything other than pretend at submission before. He was sure he'd wouldn't be able to get away with doing that with his new Master. Apart from anything else, Skinner had told him the piercing would be all the more painful if he didn't try and get himself in the right mind-set. That was incentive enough.

That morning's spanking was hard and fast. Skinner didn't caress him, or lead him in slowly with a warm-up - instead he swung the paddle down on Mulder's ass with a reverberating smack.

"Shit!" Mulder cried, and he was rewarded by a hard smack to the top of his thighs.

"I'm not cruel enough to make you keep quiet during spanking but I don't want to hear anything coherent from you," Skinner informed him, continuing with the spanking at breakneck speed. "What are you, Fox?" He demanded, one hand parting Mulder's butt cheeks down the cleft in the middle and pushing up, squeezing the right buttock into a tightly compressed, isolated, roll of flesh. Thereafter every single slap was delivered to Mulder's right cheek.

"I'm your slave, Master." Mulder answered, trying hard not to wriggle.

"What is your status in this household?" Skinner asked, continuing to concentrate on that one red buttock until Mulder wasn't sure he could stand it any more.

"That of, ow! slave, Master! Owww!" Mulder replied.

"What are your duties?" The paddle peppered Mulder's right buttock with a series of blistering blows.

"To address myself, argh! you and your needs, Master!" Mulder tried hard not to wriggle under the onslaught, but it was difficult. The paddle stopped for a moment, and Mulder felt Skinner's hand move, pulling his left buttock down, close towards the big man's body. Now, his Master concentrated on his left buttock, every blow being delivered with the precision and concentration to detail that Mulder had come to expect from his Master.

"Remind me what you are again," Skinner said.

"Your slave, Master." Mulder sobbed, burying his head in the pillow.

"Your duties?"

"To serve you! Ow!" The tears were flowing freely now. That paddle was vicious.

"And your status?"

"I have none, Master. I'm only a slave," Mulder wriggled under that relentless paddle. "Please, Master, not in the same place all the time…please," Mulder begged, as his left butt cheek felt as if it would burst into flame.

"Does the slave accept the right of his Master to punish him where he wishes?" Skinner asked ominously.

"Yes, Master," Mulder panted.

"I think that in the past when you've been punished, you've viewed it merely as a means to your own pleasure. Not any more, Fox," Skinner stated grimly. "From now on, spankings, whether for your instruction or your enjoyment, are delivered purely at my own discretion. What you want is irrelevant." To punctuate this statement, Skinner stepped up the pace, using the paddle like a maestro, his aim always landing true. Mulder gasped, the pain mingling with Skinner's words and impacting on him in the most profound way. "Stay still, Fox and take the discipline. It's a hard lesson, but one we'll be returning to over and over again until it's learned. Now you've earned yourself some extra attention on this spot." Skinner repeated the hard slaps to the center of Mulder's left buttock until Mulder felt he would have done anything, said anything at that moment in time, just to feel the paddle on some other part of his body. Anywhere but his aching, burning left butt cheek. He dissolved into a helpless mass of completely submissive slave, trying to switch off from the pain in that blistered buttock, to find a way with coping with it.

He thought back to what Skinner had told him about being in a state of deep submission, reliving the words and concept. He was Skinner's slave, and his Master could punish him in whatever way he liked…he couldn't stop him, or plead with him; his Master would continue to his own satisfaction. Mulder was merely a slave, and had to accept whatever was done to his body, which was didn't belong to him anymore. It belonged instead to his Master. Mulder was his Master's property, to be used in any way his Master wished…

Suddenly it stopped, and Mulder realized that he had barely felt the last few slaps as he had concentrated on the implications of his slavery.

"Well done. I think you learned something this morning," Skinner commented softly.

"Yes, Master." Mulder whispered, subdued by the quiet power of his own mental voice. He felt as if he had entered another realm, and he wasn't sure he wanted to leave it. Skinner seemed to recognize this, and spoke in a low, steady tone, not breaking the mood.

"All right - I like this shade of red." Skinner slapped his sore buttocks, making Mulder jump. "Go and stand in the corner of the room so that I can see that red butt on display," he ordered.

Mulder slid off the bed, and did as he was told. He stood quite still, facing the wall, his face almost as red as his bottom. He was used to being naked, but there was something particularly humiliating about the idea of his sore butt being on display. He felt as if waves of heat were rolling off his ass, warming the entire room. About a quarter of an hour passed and then he heard Skinner get up, and come to stand behind him. His Master grabbed his buttocks, and fondled them with hard strokes of his thumbs on the painful flesh as he gave Mulder his orders:

"In a minute, I want you to go and start my shower for me and set my towel warming. Then you can come back in here and lay my clothes out - sweats and a white tee shirt. When you've finished you can stand waiting for me to finish in the shower, and dry and dress me. Then you can kneel beside me, and wait on me while I eat. When I've finished, and you've cleared away my dishes, you can help yourself to your own breakfast. After that you will kneel beside me again, and wait until I require your further services. Fox - one thing." Skinner's voice was firm and silky whispering in his ear. "I would prefer you not to fidget while you're kneeling. However, you're only human. If at any point you start to ache, or get cramp, just stand up and stretch, or change your position. I don't expect you to ask permission to do that. If you can't stay kneeling, it's acceptable for you to sit for short periods to relieve any aches. You don't need to ask my permission to use the bathroom either - just go quietly when you need to, and return to my side when you're done. You should be as unobtrusive as possible. If I want to notice you, I can assure you that I will."

Mulder swallowed as his Master's voice caressed him, entering that private plane he seemed to have washed up on. When Skinner finished speaking he nodded.

"Yes, Master," he replied, eyes down, fixed on his feet. He was surprised when Skinner drew him into a quick hug, kissing his forehead.

"Fox, you're clever, brave, and independent. I like that in you, and in time that's what I'll allow you to be again. I like your conversation, to say nothing of the vibrant personality it reveals," Skinner grinned fondly at his slave. "I would never, ever want that lost. I know it's harder for you to be silent than almost anything else I'm going to demand of you, but it's a lesson in submission that you need to learn."

"Yes, Master." Mulder whispered, spellbound, his head resting lightly on Skinner's shoulder.

"Good." Skinner stepped back, and slapped his butt firmly. "Get moving," he ordered.

Mulder sprang into action, trotted quickly into the bathroom, and turned on the shower, making sure it was the right temperature before finding Skinner's towel and draping it over the radiator. He watched Skinner step into the shower, fighting down an urge to follow him in, and run his hands over his Master's naked body. Instead he did as he had been commanded, and returned to the bedroom. He found Skinner's gray sweats hanging in his closet, and laid them on the bed, adding the tee shirt, briefs and socks from the dresser, and finding his Master's sneakers. Then he returned to the bathroom, and when Skinner emerged from the water, he stepped forward, enveloping his Master in the soft warm towel. He dried the other man with reverence, not even daring to steal kisses this time, just addressing himself to the task. He was fascinated by the tiny fringe of hair around the back of his Master's scalp, and towel dried it with particular care and reverence. He noticed for the first time, much to his own surprise, that Skinner's hair must have been wavy when he was young.

Dressing his Master was more a pleasure than a chore. Mulder loved smoothing his Master's briefs up his long, tanned legs. He couldn't resist taking extra care to see that the other man's cock was nestled nicely into place within the white underpants, lingering over that task more than was entirely necessary. Then he held out Skinner's sweats for him, before handing him his tee shirt. Finally Skinner sat on the bed and Mulder lovingly peeled his socks on, then tied his sneakers for him, before following his Master obediently out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen.

The silence was strange, and yet curiously welcome, Mulder thought, as he knelt watching Skinner eat. He concentrated every nerve ending on being alert to his Master's needs, jumping up to pour him some orange juice when he emptied his glass, and buttering his toast for him. He lost himself in the tasks, operating on some hazy level of submission that soothed his usually overactive mind. It was as if he had switched off for the first time in his life, and it was such a blessed relief that Mulder wanted to hang onto the moment forever.

After they had both eaten, Skinner took him into the study. Mulder knelt obediently beside his Master resting his chin on Skinner's knee as the big man sat behind the desk. It was nice here, he thought drowsily to himself. He could sit here forever, in silence, watching Skinner work. He wondered if it would be possible to sneak up to the 5^th floor occasionally when they were back at the Hoover building, to worship his Master like this. He loved the feel of Skinner's hard thigh under his jaw, and the simple pleasure of waiting to catch a stray caress; a light touch to his hair, or a gentle finger against his cheek.

"I have invitations to send out for your party." Skinner looked down on his slave, and smiled.

"My party, Master?" Mulder echoed, sitting up straight.

"Of course it’s your party, little one. It's where I'll show you off in all your glory," Skinner chuckled. Mulder tried to keep himself from shuddering visibly at the horror of the mental image that phrase inspired. "I've already spoken to various people on the 'phone, but a proper invitation is only polite," Skinner told him. "Here's a list of the people I'm going to invite. You can write out the envelopes, while I design something to go inside them." He handed Mulder a list of type written names, and addresses, and Mulder gave a little moan of distress.

"Is there a problem, slave?" Skinner asked.

"These people, Master…I know some of them," Mulder replied in an agony of humiliation. "You seem to have invited a large number of my previous tops."

"That's right." Skinner looked at Mulder over the top of his glasses. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"No, Master…yes, Master." Mulder hung his head, and gazed miserably at the list.

"Well?" Skinner prompted.

"I have a temper, Master." Mulder admitted, his face flushing bright red. "We, that is I…um, we didn't always part on good terms, Master. I might have been a bit, uh, honest in my opinions of some of them when we parted company."

"And the problem is?" Skinner's face was impassive.

Mulder bit on his lip. "I never thought I'd see them again, Master, that's all."

"No, the problem is that the last time you saw them you treated them to one of your famous Mulderesque rants on their inadequacy as tops, and when you see them at the party, you'll be naked, submissive, and walking on the end of my leash. You think they'll enjoy themselves far too much seeing you finally put in your place. Isn't that the problem?" Skinner pressed.

Mulder sighed, every single inch of his body squirming at the very thought of it. "Yes, Master," he whispered.

"You should be proud," Skinner chided. "I will be. They failed with you - I'm going to show them that with the right handling you can be the perfect slave. They'll envy me my slaveboy. You'll walk to heel like a puppy, Fox, straining to serve me, and obedient to my every word. Nothing else will be important - not your previous tops, not their new subs - nothing but serving me, and making me proud of you. Yes, it'll be hard for you, little one, but you'll do fine."

Mulder nodded, glumly, none too sure on that point. He recognized several names on the list, which contained nearly all the key players on the DC scene. The fact that Skinner's party invites included such illustrious names brought home to him just how important a person Skinner was in this circle. He was the property of the most legendary player on the scene; he felt a little glow of pride as he considered that fact. The thought of being displayed naked, pierced, marked, and obedient in all his rings, in front of that forbidding audience still scared him shitless though. Supposing he did something wrong? Supposing he let his Master down? Mulder trembled. It didn't bear thinking about.

Skinner designed a neat invitation, just plain black lettering on white card, announcing that he had a new slave to unveil, and stating that the dress code was 'casual', and the Playroom would be open for his guests' amusements. There was also an ominous note at the end: Refreshments and entertainment provided.

"What will the entertainment be, Master?" Mulder asked.

"Why, you of course, little one. What else?" Skinner chuckled, patting his slave's head affectionately. Mulder had a nasty feeling that his Master had something special in mind for him.

When they'd finished, Skinner ordered him to dress in sweats, and then took him down to the gym.

"I usually find the place is pretty empty." Skinner handed Mulder his towel, and began his warm-up stretches. "Especially during the day on a weekday. It's a small gym and the equipment isn't particularly fashionable. Most of the people who live here prefer to go to gyms where they can see and be seen. I'm don't give a damn about that crap so this place suits me fine." Mulder nodded, transfixed by the sight of his Master's rippling biceps as he swung an arm above his head, and flexed the muscle. "Do you use a gym?" Skinner asked, placing his leg on the window ledge, and leaning forward over it, treating Mulder to the prefect vision of taut gray-clad buttocks.

"No, Master. Usually I just run and swim."

"That's good aerobic exercise. Running can be hard on the joints though," Skinner told him. "Using the track machines here will give you a similar result, without the stress on your knees."

"Running isn't about the exercise so much, Master," Mulder murmured.

"What is it about then?" Skinner glanced at his slave, his expression curious.

"It's…escape, Master," Mulder confided. "When I'm out running, I can let my mind wander. I feel like I'm floating…I feel free."

"Do you sometimes run too far, too fast - so that you can get the endorphins rush?" Skinner asked.

Mulder flushed. "Yes, Master," he admitted.

"And you ran more when you didn't have a top available who could provide you with the endorphins in a different way?" Skinner placed both his hands against the wall, and pushed one of his long legs back, leaning forwards, but he still gazed at Mulder, an intent expression in those dark eyes.

"Master knows me too well."

Mulder crossed his arms over his stomach, suppressing the sensation of fear that Skinner's words had woken in him. He had never been known like this. Nobody had ever taken the time or trouble to get to know him like this. No, that wasn't strictly true - he had never let them. Mulder felt a lump form in his throat. Sometimes he had gone out running for hours at a stretch - usually on cold, wet nights, when the atmosphere suited his moods. He had been swallowed by the darkness, and had allowed it to eat him whole, taking him down to a level of existence where he didn't have to think - he could just be. It was the same place Skinner seemed to want him to go to while in this deep submissive mode, and it scared him. It was a place where he was used to being alone - his secret place achieved through sweat and pain, and now Skinner wanted to accompany him there, to follow him in, and stand beside him. Mulder wasn't sure he could share. Looking back, he could see that his marathon runs were just another way in which he had sought to control both his body and his mind, to seek respite from the demands of both - demands he couldn't meet. He had sought to bludgeon himself into submission, and Skinner was showing him a different path to the same end. It was as if someone had offered to share a burden with him, and he was both grateful to be relieved of the load, and scared of giving it up, at one and the same time.

"Fox," Skinner's voice was soft, like a light kiss, breaking into his reverie. "You can still run - but ask for my permission first. I might not always give it. In the meantime, try using these exercise machines. I'll show you how they work."

"Yes, Master." Mulder nodded.

"I'll also show you the settings I use for them. I want you to remember the seat heights I prefer, the number of weights I use, and any other details I show you. When we come back tomorrow, you can go ahead and prepare each machine for me when I'm ready."
Mulder nodded again, relieved to have something practical to occupy his mind. He knelt by the treadmill and watched Skinner do a quick warm-up program on it, before moving onto to the kayak machine, and then various other pieces of equipment, in quick succession. The session was finished off by a bout of rigorous weight lifting. The sweat was pouring off his Master by this point, making his body gleam as if oiled, and the number of weights Skinner could lift seriously impressed Mulder.

Skinner grinned at his obvious admiration. "I have to keep fit if I'm going to whip recalcitrant slaves into shape. Excuse the pun," he said as he accepted his towel from his slave, tousling Mulder's hair in the process.

"I've noticed that Master's puns are excruciating," Mulder observed.

"So are Master's whippings, so I'd take care if I were you, little one." Skinner winked, and slapped Mulder's butt firmly, making his slave yelp.

They returned to the apartment, where Skinner instructed Mulder to kneel in silence while he took a shower. Mulder fully intended to obey… but after 5 minutes of silent kneeling he found he couldn't reach that restful place in his mind that he had discovered earlier. His brain wouldn't shut down - it kept buzzing at him. How did Skinner understand him so well? What had those other tops told his Master? What were the contents of those files in the study just along the corridor? Mulder risked craning his head to peer in the direction of the study, and from there it was really only one short, scurrying, breathless walk to the door of the study, and a quick prayer for good luck as he turned the handle and tiptoed inside.

The files were laid out neatly on Skinner's desk; he had never known his Master to be untidy in his work or his play. Mulder took a deep breath, but this was no different to the many other places he had broken into when he knew he shouldn't. True, the penalties were slightly different: on those other occasions he had risked death, but this time he was only risking his Master's wrath. How come then, that he felt more nervous doing this than he had on all those other occasions put together?

Mulder flicked open the first file, one ear straining to hear his Master's footstep on the stair. He was sure that if he heard him, he could scurry back just in time to avoid Skinner finding out about his disobedience. The files were all written in Skinner's neat scrawl, and Mulder didn’t have much difficulty deciphering them. A quick survey revealed that Skinner had been as meticulous as Mulder had known he would be. There were dates, times, and exact quotations - Mulder recognized the phrasing of one of the tops. If he closed his eyes he could even hear the man saying the words.

"Mulder fights you, you know? Even when he was giving in I felt like he was just playing me along. It was crazy - like a fucking battle, and I don't think I ever damn well won. After a session with him I used to come out feeling like I was the one who'd just been topped."

Mulder read silently, chewing on his lip. He wasn't sure he wanted to know in plain English precisely what his previous playmates had thought about him but it was such fascinating reading he couldn't tear himself away. He recognized the description of himself all too well though - he was just surprised that he hadn't managed to hide himself better.

"Fox." The word was spoken softly, from a position just behind his left ear, and all the hair on the back of Mulder's neck stood instantly on end. He froze, like a cat caught by the scruff of its neck, body dangling, helpless and immobile. He could feel Skinner standing directly behind him, warm, and oh, so dangerous.

"Master." He closed the file, and replaced it carefully on the desk, then turned, sank to his knees in one swift motion, and kissed Skinner's feet. "I'm sorry, Master," he whispered.

"No, you're not; but you will be." Skinner lifted one booted foot, and raised Mulder's chin with it. Mulder looked reluctantly into those dark, dangerous eyes. "Following orders never has been your forte, has it?" his Master commented, in a deceptively light tone.

Mulder shivered. "Please, Master, I can explain."

"I intend to give you every opportunity to do just that," Skinner said. "Before I whip the living daylights out of you."

"Master…" Mulder looked up, seriously scared. "Please, I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Yes, it will - until you learn," Skinner said. Then, unexpectedly, he crouched down in front of Mulder, and took his face in his hands. "This isn't work, Fox. Whenever you disobeyed me there, the only sanctions I had at my disposal were the empty threats of dismissal, and the tedious official reprimands, such as warnings on your file, which you don't give a damn about. You put me in a difficult situation: how could I reprimand you in any way which had significance without booting you out of the FBI, which common sense told me was the only reasonable solution, but which I could never bring myself to do. So, you forced me to get creative, and I came up with a host of petty humiliations and punishments, which, I think, caused you some small degree of discomfort."

"Tape surveillance." Mulder winced, keeping his face perfectly still in his Master's hands, like a stunned mouse between a cat's paws. "Yes, Master, you were creative, and I did hate it."

"Apart from that, my only weapon was long sessions of punitive rhetoric. I hope they were as unpleasant for you as they were for me," Skinner murmured.

"Master has always been very skilled at telling me off," Mulder said, looking down at the ground, unable to keep the eye contact. "Trust me, sir. It had impact." He remembered the many times he had stood in Skinner's office, undergoing one of the AD's famous tongue-lashings, and wishing he were anywhere else in the universe.

"Now though…we are in a different situation." Skinner's voice was silky. Mulder looked up in surprise, and saw the grim smile on his Master's face.

"Master is going to enjoy this," he whimpered.

"Yes, Fox, Master is going to enjoy this very much indeed. Just think of it as payback for all those times you disobeyed me in the past, when I couldn't do more than give you a talking to." Skinner released his face, and stood up. "The Playroom is open. Go up there, and kneel in front of the throne. Fox…" Skinner stopped the slave with his foot. "This is a different kind of kneeling to what I showed you before. I want you to press your body down on your knees, and place your forearms on the floor in front of you, as if giving obeisance to an Emperor. Your nose should touch the floor. I want you to stay in that position until I come up to give you what you deserve. I call this the Confessional position - when you're in it, I'll expect you to talk, openly, and honestly. You won't be looking at me, and I won't interrupt you. Now, go!" he barked. Mulder scrambled to obey. He ran out of the study at full pelt, and chased up the stairs two at a time in his haste.

It felt strange to open the door to the Playroom without Skinner being there beside him. He tiptoed over to the throne in awe, and knelt before it, in the position his Master had instructed him to assume. It wasn't until he was in place that he realized his heart was thudding in his chest, and he was more terrified than he had ever been in his life before. This was worse than haunted houses, worse than vampires and werewolves, worse even than Scully in gun-toting mode. In short, it was worse than just about anything else he had ever encountered. Mulder began to tremble.

He wasn't sure how long Skinner kept him waiting; it felt like an eternity but he suspected it was probably more in the region of twenty minutes. When he heard his Master's footsteps clicking across the Playroom towards him he couldn’t decide whether relief or terror had the upper hand in his heart. The footsteps came to a halt by his ear. Mulder held his breath. He could see his Master in his mind's eye, staring down on his naked, contrite, terrified slave, and his trembling intensified.

"You'd do well to remember how scared you are right now," his Master said softly. "Maybe in future you'll think twice about disobeying me."

"Yes, Master," he croaked. He heard Skinner move away, and seat himself on the throne.
"All right, slave, your explanation please - and make it full and thorough. You won't save yourself a whipping but you might earn yourself a reprieve on how harshly it's delivered."

Mulder swallowed, and wondered what he should say. "I was scared, Master," he volunteered at last.

"Of me?" Skinner asked.

"No, yes…partly. Of myself too - and of what you knew about me. When we were in the gym, I felt as if you'd found my soul, and laid it bare. That scared me. I didn't know how you could know me so well. I went to look in the files to see what they had told you about me."

"And did you find what you were looking for?" Skinner's voice was calm, and deep.

Mulder felt his nerve grow stronger. "No, Master," he admitted.

"I'm not surprised," Skinner snorted. "Fox, I've learned a lot about your submissive fantasies from those files, and the games you liked to play, but none of it comes close to telling me about you in the deepest sense of the word. I've learned that from watching you work for the past 6 years. I know you sometimes don't sleep, because you arrive at work with dark rings under your eyes. I know you sometimes don't eat because I've watched you toy with your food, and I know that your demons sometimes rise up to slay you, because of the shadows I've seen in your face and the dejected set of your shoulders. I know you walk a fine line between life and death, because I've read your reports, and I know that you sometimes long to fall into the abyss because I've seen it in your eyes."

Mulder looked up wordlessly, forgetting about the position he had been ordered to keep, and gazed at this man who spoke about him as if he cared. Yesterday, Mulder had asked for permission to fall in love with his Master, but today he knew it was too late: he had already fallen in love with him. Not just for the sexual pleasure he knew the other man could give him like the maestro he was, but for the fact also, that for the first time in his life, Mulder didn't feel that he was struggling on alone any more.

"Master should punish me hard," he whispered, burying his face in his knees again, scrunching himself up tightly.

"We haven't finished yet," Skinner told him firmly. "Before I decide on the punishment, I want more information. What did you learn from those files?"

"Nothing good." Mulder gave a short bark of laughter. "They seemed to say…mostly negative things about me. They didn't like me. That's fair enough." He shrugged. "When I first came to you, Master, I told you I was a good sub - the best you'd find. I was wrong. In my heart I wasn't a sub at all."

"I know that." Skinner gave a wry laugh. "You will be though, Fox. I'll take you there, and you'll see what you've been denying yourself for so long. You're wrong about the files though. Your tops did like you; nearly all of them mentioned that they found you very endearing. You seem to have chosen to edit that information out."

"Maybe, Master." Mulder said wretchedly. "I'm sorry for looking in the files. I've failed you."

"No, you failed yourself, Fox," Skinner told him. "What happened? This morning you seemed to be enjoying the deep submission I instructed you to learn. What was the trigger that snapped you out of it?"

"I'm not sure." Mulder bit on his lip.

"All right - tell me how you felt when you were in that headspace."

"Serene." Mulder looked up again, his eyes glowing. "It gave me peace; respite from all the shit that goes on in my mind, Master."

"Head down," Skinner told him. Mulder obeyed instantly. "Serene - did you enjoy that feeling?"

"Yes, Master, but I couldn't stay that way."

"You couldn't be expected to; it was a new state for you and it's hard to learn, but you should have told me you were coming out of it, Fox. I know lots of tricks that would have put you back under. Next time, tell me before you get yourself into this kind of trouble."

"Yes, Master." Mulder mumbled into his knees.

"Is there anything else?" Skinner demanded, his voice penetrating Mulder's huddled form. Mulder was going to shake his head, but instead he found himself talking.

"Master…I think…I was scared of the commitment of accepting your permanent mark on my body." Mulder knew he had hit on the truth, as he began trembling again. He was glad he didn't have to look at his Master - it made the confession easier. "I'm afraid of the pain too, Master. Phoebe…I had a fantasy once that I asked her to act out. I asked her to whip my nipples, and she did - but she did it so hard that she made me bleed. I…couldn't handle the pain, Master. She was disappointed in me. I wanted to please her, and that hurt more than the pain. I'm scared of the same thing happening with you, Master. I'll disappoint you."

"Fox," Skinner's voice was gentle. "You've been shot, beaten up, involved in car wrecks, hurt in dozens of different ways in the course of your job. You don't need to prove to me that you're brave. I already know that." Mulder heard his Master move, and a second later, he was surprised to feel a tender hand on his hair. "Your piercing isn't a punishment, Fox, it's a celebration. Trust me - surrender yourself to me, and I'll finish what we started a few days ago, with a permanent affirmation of those contracts we both signed. Kneel up, and look at me."

Mulder did as he was told, and drowned in those strong, knowing, dark eyes. "It'll hurt, but the pain will be erotic - I promise you that. The endorphin high will make you buzz, little one. Phoebe didn't understand her responsibilities. I do. This will be different. Trust me." Skinner fondled the side of Mulder's face, then leaned down and kissed him softly on the lips. Mulder moaned and opened up, wanting his Master's tongue, but Skinner laughed and pushed him away.

"We'll spend the afternoon preparing for the ceremony, Fox. By the time it happens, you'll be ready. Now, before I punish you, I want to taste the flesh I'll be piercing later. Come with me." Skinner sat back down on the throne, and beckoned Mulder to kneel in front of him. Then he closed his legs around his slave, trapping him there. "Closer." Skinner pulled him in. "Kneel up straight, that's good." His Master dipped his head, and flicked a tongue over Mulder's nipples, making them go immediately erect. "Do you like having these clamped?" Skinner spidered his fingers over his slave's nipples, squeezing them.

"Clamping hurts, Master," Mulder replied.

"Yes, but do you like it?" Skinner asked, tugging at both nipples playfully.

"Sometimes, if it's done right." Mulder admitted. Skinner's mouth nuzzled Mulder's right nipple, and then sucked on it. Mulder moaned, putting his head back, arousal shooting through his veins. The sucking got harder, the intensity too much to bear, and Mulder put his hands up to push his Master away for a moment's respite from the pleasure/pain. "You forget yourself, slave," Skinner told him firmly. "Your body is mine to play with as I want. Put your hands behind your back."

"It was too intense…" Mulder began.

"Behind your back - now!" Skinner ordered. Mulder obeyed, then watched as Skinner undid his belt. He wondered if his Master was going to whip him for this latest disobedience, but instead, Skinner tied his hands firmly in place with the belt. "Now, you'll let me touch you where and how I want, when I want - you don't have the right to withhold any part of yourself from my attention," Skinner said firmly. Mulder nodded, his cock going rock solid, and he moaned as Skinner returned his attention to his nipples, sucking hard on each one, reducing his slave to a state of quivering, moaning insensibility. Then his Master began to nibble, teasing the flesh with little bites that stopped just as they started to really hurt. Mulder squirmed, sweat running down his face as he accepted the exquisite torture.

"I can't wait to pierce you," Skinner murmured, drawing back, his fingers taking the place of his mouth, twisting Mulder's nipples hard. "Do you have any idea what a turn on for me that is? Think how I'll feel when we're sitting in a meeting back at work, knowing that you're wearing all my rings - but only one of them will be visible." He drew Mulder's ring finger up to his lips and kissed it. "Knowing that you're wearing my collar…" he traced the slender gold chain, "and my cock ring," his hand brushed against Mulder's straining cock, "and that underneath your shirt, you're wearing my other rings, embedded in your flesh, placed there by my own hand. It's a beautiful thought, Fox." Mulder could see the picture his Master had painted for him. Himself, sitting across a table from Skinner, surrounded by serious FBI officials in suits, and him bearing this delicious secret underneath his shirt - proudly wearing the symbols of his Master's ownership, embedded in his very flesh.

"Yes, Master…please," he whispered. Skinner smiled, and delivered a light kiss to each reddened nipple.

"Soon, slave," he promised. "We have a punishment to deliver first, don't we?"

"Yes, Master." Mulder sighed.

"You know…" Skinner grasped his chin firmly, and looked at him, "you'll always be spanked once a day - that's a given. However, it would be nice if you could just once get through the day without earning yourself extra punishment. Trust me - when you're back at work, sitting on a hard chair all day, you'll regret it if you make me deliver extra whippings. You've been here three days, and earned yourself extra swats over and above your daily slave discipline on all three so far."

"I'll try harder, Master," Mulder promised.

"Good. Now get up and go to the cupboard. I want you to get out every single different kind of implement for delivering your punishment that you can find. Just one of each - a switch, crop, paddle, and so on."

"Master is going to use each of them?" Mulder asked, his heart thudding in his chest.

"Yes, I am. And you, little one," Skinner punctuated his endearment with a light twist to one of Mulder's nipples that made his slave gasp, "are going to give each one a rating for how painful it is. I want to find out how you react to each implement. Then, in future, I'll know which one to use for minor offenses, and which one to get out when we have something really serious to address." He undid Mulder's hands, and pushed him in the direction of the cupboard. "And Fox?" Mulder turned around, a questioning look in his eye, "be honest. You're in enough trouble right now without making it worse for yourself."

"I wouldn't lie, Master," Mulder replied, somewhat indignantly.

Skinner grinned, and gave him a light swat on the butt. "No, I don't think you would!"

Mulder took a sleek, black leather paddle to his Master first. He held it reverently in his hands, and knelt before his Master, holding it up to him. Skinner took it, and placed it on the table. Mulder returned to the cupboard, and found a strap. He repeated the journey with a heavy rattan cane, a riding crop, and a flogger, then found a heavy rubber tawse. The last object he brought out was a long whip, with weighted tips. Skinner took one look at it, and shook his head.

"I will give you a proper whipping one day, but not today. We'd need to create a lot of headspace for that," he said. Mulder returned the whip to the cupboard, shivering at the feel of that heavy leather in his hands. "I think we have enough to be going on with," Skinner surveyed the implements. "I'm going to tie you for this - stand up to the whipping post." Mulder did as he was told, quaking inside. Skinner fastened his hands just a fraction too high, so that he was standing on tiptoe, then knelt down and tied his legs as well, keeping them wide apart. Finally, he encased Mulder's testicles in the same protective leather pouch he'd used previously, when marking him. "The good thing about this is that you won't need marking again for a couple of days," Skinner chuckled. Mulder made a face at the wall. As Good Things went, he didn't rate this particular one very highly.

"I'm going to give you two strokes with each." Skinner picked up the paddle, and delivered a sound thwack across Mulder's butt without any warning. Mulder gasped - he was still sore from the thorough spanking he'd received this morning. The second one landed with a thud across the center of his butt. "Reaction?" Skinner asked.

"It's a dull kind of pain, Master. Heavy," Mulder said. "It doesn't hurt too bad. Maybe you could use it for lighter offenses?"

"Very well." Skinner picked up the cane, and stroked a line along Mulder's butt, before delivering a firm lick.

"Shit!" Mulder bucked into the air as much as his fastenings would allow. Another blow came down on his backside, and he whimpered. "That bites, Master. It's worse than the paddle - much worse."

"All right." Skinner picked up the strap, and stroked two swats across Mulder's butt in quick succession. Mulder fought back a sob.

"It's painful, Master. Not as bad as the cane, but worse than the paddle."

"Good. You're doing well." Skinner paused for a moment, and stroked Mulder's striped butt lovingly with gentle fingers. "You're pinking up, sweetheart," he whispered in a chillingly erotic voice, "two nice welts, and a glowing ass." He bent down and kissed the ass in question, then licked it. Mulder shivered. "Let's continue." Skinner picked up the riding crop, and delivered the strokes quickly.

"Not quite as bad as the cane, Master, but almost," he whispered. "They sting rather than bite."

Skinner nodded, and retrieved the heavy tawse from the table. "Now, Fox, I want you to remember to take a lesson from this punishment," he said in a solemn voice. "Have you ever been spanked with a rubber implement before?" he asked.

"No, Master," Mulder looked back over his shoulder at the implement in question. "Does it hurt, Master?"

"Yes, Fox. This is a real heavyweight. Two will be more than enough to make you regret disobeying me, I think, but just to make sure the lesson goes home, I'm going to double that. Ready?"

"Y…yes," Mulder said uncertainly. He buried his head in his arms, and then yowled out loud in sheer pain as the heavy tawse made impact on his buttocks with a loud thwapping sound. "Worse than the cane, Master, much worse…" he panted, hopping as much as he could within his bonds. "Please, don't use it again, Master."

"I promised you four, and four's what you'll receive," Skinner told him. Mulder tensed, waiting for the blow, and when it came it didn't disappoint him.

"Oh shit, Master…that, that instrument is demonic," he sobbed, lines of flame radiating out from his butt.

"I did warn you. Perhaps it'll help remind you of the consequences of disobedience in future," Skinner remarked. "Brace yourself - and remember that the pain is a direct result of your behavior." Skinner swung the tawse against Mulder's naked, vulnerable bottom again. Mulder squealed, and his whole body shook.

"That's bad, Master. It hurts more than anything," he panted.

"Not quite anything, but nearly," Skinner replied tersely. "Now, one more and then we're done." He didn't give Mulder time to think about it - the next stroke came down hard and fast, and Mulder let out another roar of pain, shockwaves of pain reverberating through his ass.

"How did you know, Master?" He asked weakly, as the pain subsided.

"Know what, little one?" Skinner kissed his forehead firmly.

"How that feels." Mulder moaned, enjoying the feel of Skinner's hands caressing his body.

"I wouldn't try out anything on someone else that I hadn't first tried on myself," Skinner replied unexpectedly. Mulder tried to come to terms with the mental image that sentence evoked, and failed. He resolved to find out more about his Master's past when his butt wasn't distracting him by hurting so much.

"Relax, your punishment's over." Skinner soothed him. "What did you learn?"

"Not to disobey you, Master," Mulder said quickly.

Skinner smiled, and kissed him again. "Good. Now, I'm going to use the flogger, but this will be nice - you'll enjoy this." Skinner untied Mulder and re-tied him loosely, and more comfortably. Mulder relaxed into his bonds, as his Master swirled the flogger over his body; up and down, down and up, kissing him with the warm suede strips. Mulder entered a blissed out sensation of hazy peace as the endorphins swept in, taking over, and making his whole body tingle. His cock hardened, and strained against his ring.

"You'll come later, Fox," Skinner promised. Mulder nodded, satisfied with that. Later…later he would be pierced…later he would come. He still feared the one as much as he looked forward to the other.

Skinner used the flogger liked the expert he was until Mulder was perched, dripping on the edge of erotic bliss. Then Skinner stroked his hair softly, and whispered to him.

"Who do you belong to, Fox?"

"You, Master," he replied, dreamily.

"And what can I do to you?"

"Whatever you like, Master."

"Good boy. I want you to stay in that place in your head while you go to your room, and bring me the gold rings."

"Is it time, Master?" Mulder looked up, the fear leaping into his eyes.

"It's time." Skinner kissed him reassuringly, then untied him, holding him up until he got his balance. Mulder walked slowly to his bedroom, fighting down the fear and anticipation. He found the gold rings, and walked back to the Playroom, then stopped, on the threshold. Skinner had changed - instead of his jeans, he was now wearing a pair of tight leather trousers, and a soft cream-colored shirt that hung loosely, and comfortably from his muscled frame. He looked like an old fashioned romantic hero. Mulder sighed.

"Come in, sweetheart." Skinner beckoned him in, and locked the door behind him. "Kneel down in the center of the room, and put a ring in each hand - close them into fists. That's right. Now close your eyes, and don't think about anything but how I'm going to make those rings part of you."

Mulder did as he was told, feeling the gold warm up under his fingers. Soon they would decorate his body, placed there by his Master's hand. He heard Skinner move around the room, and fought down an urge to open his eyes, concentrating instead on the rings, as he had been ordered.

"Okay - open your eyes, but don't move," Skinner commanded him a few minutes later. Mulder did, and looked around in surprise. Skinner had pulled the blinds down over each window, plunging the room into darkness. Now his Master was lighting what looked like a hundred candles with a long taper. The room seemed warm, intimate, and cozy.

"This is private - between you and me," Skinner told him, walking slowly around the room, igniting each candle. They gave the room a warm glow, enchanting the kneeling slave and bathing him in warm, flickering light. When Skinner had finished, he blew out the taper, and beckoned Mulder over to the massage table, which had been adjusted to a sitting position. "Put the rings on the table and sit down," Skinner instructed. Mulder did as he was told, and Skinner paused and kissed him deeply on the lips. Mulder moaned, as Skinner's hand brushed over his nipples, a wave of electricity surging through him at his Master's touch. "I'm going to tie you to keep you still," Skinner informed him. "You'll be tied tight because I don't want you moving while I work. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Mulder replied, never taking his eyes off his Master's face.

"Good boy." Skinner kissed him again, and then fastened him onto the chair, binding his shoulders and legs into place. "Can you move?" He asked, when he had finished. Mulder tried to wriggle, but he was secured firmly into place.

"No, sir."

"Good."

Mulder watched as Skinner retrieved a bowl full what smelled like alcohol, and some cotton balls and placed them on the table. It was warm in the room, but even so, he started to shiver.

"Hush," Skinner smiled at him. Mulder tried to relax, watching as Skinner sat down beside him, and opened a pack of sterilized needles. His Master picked up one of the rings, and dipped it in the bowl, then threaded it to the blunt end of the needle. Skinner swabbed his left nipple with alcohol, then picked up a pen, and moved his hand forward. Mulder moaned as the tension built up. Not knowing what to expect was the worst part.

"I'm just marking the spot," Skinner told him. "Would you prefer to be blindfolded?"

"No. No - I'll watch." Mulder whispered. Skinner placed a dot on either side of his left nipple, and then retrieved a vicious looking instrument with a triangular head from the table.

"It's a clamp - it squeezes the flesh into place. It'll help me make a more precise job," Skinner told him. Mulder nodded. "When I've finished decorating you, your body will be even more pleasing to me," Skinner's voice was low, and soothing. "You don't have a choice, little one. Just relax." So saying, he attached the clamp into place. Mulder bit down on his lip as his nipple was lightly crushed between the metal, then his Master picked up the needle. He didn't say a word, just matter of factly plunged it straight through Mulder's flesh. Mulder let out a startled scream of surprise, but the pain didn't kick in until a few seconds later, when it zoomed through his body in a warm wash of agony. He struggled pointlessly against his bonds, wanting to do something, anything, to rid himself of what felt like a strip of molten steel pressed through his nipple.

"Hush, it's okay, that one's done," Skinner stroked his chest soothingly.

"Take it out! Oh fuck, it hurts!" Mulder yelled.

"It looks beautiful though. Look at it," Skinner commanded. Mulder glanced down, and saw the gold ring lodged in his nipple. He was surprised by the sudden surge of pride that welled up inside him.

"Okay…okay…that one can stay, but you can't do the other one. I can't face it…we'll do it another day," Mulder said firmly.

Skinner smiled at him, and swabbed his right nipple with alcohol. Mulder changed his mind - not knowing what to expect was not the worst part. He knew what to expect this time, and that made the anticipation even worse.

"You're doing well." Skinner pushed Mulder's damp hair off his forehead. "All right, little one, here we go again." Skinner marked the nipple with his pen, and then clamped it. Mulder tensed his muscles in preparation, and closed his eyes. He felt Skinner's fingers on his flesh, and then a sharp prick, and he yelled again. It seemed to take Skinner forever to tug the ring into place and close it, all the while jolting that sore, newly pierced flesh. When it was finally over, Mulder hung limply in his bonds, gazing down at his newly decorated body.

"I told you they'd look beautiful," Skinner smiled, clearing away the piercing apparatus. He returned and untied his slave, and then walked him over to the mirror. "They suit you, and now you're fully mine, Fox." Skinner stood behind his slave, and touched his cock ring, and his collar, then picked up his hand and fingered his wedding ring before finally brushing the tips of his fingers gently against Mulder's nipples. Mulder flinched, but the endorphin high he had been on after the flogging was made even more intense by the piercing, and although it hurt, the pain sent a dizzy wave of arousal through his body.

"Let's get this off before it's too late, shall we?" Skinner grinned, releasing Mulder from the cock ring. "You can't come yet - I want to play with you first," he said, taking Mulder over to the throne. He sat down, and made Mulder straddle his lap, facing him. "Undo my shirt - touch me. Good. Now open my trousers, that's right…" Skinner's cock leapt out eagerly from its restraint under Mulder's caress, and Mulder quickly slipped the condom Skinner handed him onto the broad penis. "I'm going to play with my new toys," Skinner smiled, and kissed the tip of each pierced nipple, making Mulder moan. His nipples were so sensitive after the piercing that the tiniest caress resonated deep inside his body, making his cock jump and harden. Skinner circled the tip of each nipple with his tongue, and Mulder held onto his Master's shoulders for dear life.

"Oh shit…that feels…incredible," he whispered.

"Good. I'm going to make it hurt a little more - hold still, slave." Skinner pulled Mulder closer, holding him tight within his muscled arms, and then fastened his lips around the sensitive nipple. Mulder howled, feeling the metal rubbed against his tender flesh. Skinner wasn't doing anything more than very light licking, but it caused wave after wave of pain in the sensitized nipple.

"Shit…that hurts…that hurts…" he whimpered, his endorphin level skyrocketing.

"Good. Hush…" Skinner continued his caress, and Mulder almost spasmed with the pleasure/pain. Each light touch of Skinner's finger, or lick of his tongue hurt those tender nubs of flesh, but each wave of pain sent him even higher in the sky until he felt as if he was floating. "Dear little slave," Skinner murmured, brushing his nipples lightly, "don’t wriggle, Fox…just accept my caress…good slave." He continued stroking Mulder's pierced nipples as Mulder climbed the walls of pleasure to dizzying heights. His cock was rock hard, and he began to thrust into his Master's lap, hoping that the friction would bring him some release.

"Not yet. I haven't finished with you yet. I told you I wanted to use you today. Now, I'm going to teach you another trick." Skinner's fingers slipped into Mulder's lubed anus, and Mulder opened up for them, trying to impale his body on them, wanting to experience the pleasure of having his prostate stimulated in time to the throbbing in his nipples.

Skinner laughed. "No, not my fingers," he said, still thrusting in and out, until Mulder was writhing in frustration on his lap. "My cock, Fox. I want you to go down on me, while I play with these," Skinner flicked the nipples lightly and Mulder threw back his head, the sweat pouring from his face.

"Go down…?" He panted, trying to wrench himself back to reality.

"That's right." Skinner took Mulder's hand, and placed it on his hard cock. "I'm ready and waiting for you." He grasped Mulder's buttocks firmly in his hands, and held them open as he guided him down onto his waiting cock. Mulder moaned as he felt the tip of his Master's cock slide into place, but he was unprepared for Skinner's next move. His Master suddenly grasped his thighs, and pulled him down hard onto his cock, bucking up with his hips at the same moment, and his cock rammed home, right up to the hilt. Mulder sat there, speared on that cock, his eyes watering as he grew used to the intrusion. He was still sore from yesterday, but the sensation of his anus being stretched mingled with the endorphin high of the piercing, and he almost passed out from the intensity. Skinner held him tight, keeping him upright, his big arms clutched around Mulder's body.

Mulder put his head back, sweat pouring down the side of his face. "I can't…it's too much, Master…" he moaned.

Skinner ignored him, and pressed his face against Mulder's nipples, licking them lightly. "Move, Fox, up and down…" He tugged at Mulder's hips, and Mulder felt that hard cock sliding inside him. He did as he was commanded, acting on instinct alone, and moved up, then impaled himself back down on his Master's cock. Somewhere along the way it found his prostate, and Mulder gasped, and held onto Skinner's shoulders for dear life. "That's okay, keep going, find it again," Skinner murmured, still toying with his nipples.

Mulder started to move rhythmically, up and down on his Master's cock. He had never experienced anything like this before. Yesterday's orgasm had been explosive enough but what he was feeling today was even more intense. It hurt - it hurt bad, but it hurt so good too. Mulder rocked up and down on Skinner's cock, and with every thrust, Skinner stroked or licked one of his nipples, alternating the two. It was more than Mulder could bear.

"Please, let me come…" he gasped, his hand milking his desperate cock hopefully.

"Not yet - ride me for longer," Skinner instructed.

Mulder was half out of his mind on sensation, as he obeyed. He moaned as that hard cock slid up and down his narrow passage, his nipples being lovingly tortured by his Master. His own cock stood out rock hard in front of him, but he could barely feel the ache in that with all the sensation in the other parts of his body.

"Hurts…oh god, I've got to come…oh shit…Master, please…ow! Fuck…Stop, please…oh shit…" Mulder moaned, as his Master skillfully built the scene to climax, thrusting up inside his slave, and fondling his hot, pierced nipples in timed strokes.

"Keep going," Skinner insisted, his firm voice the only thing anchoring Mulder to reality. Mulder didn't know how long he rode that cock in a haze of pain but suddenly he was aware that he was getting faster and faster, his movements governed by the bounce of Skinner's hips into the deepest recess of his body. "Now," Skinner whispered, and Mulder knew he wasn't coherent, but somehow his cock responded, even though his mind was far, far away. He orgasmed, his come splattering out over his own hand and over his Master's chest, and he felt Skinner's arms pull him close, as his Master reached his own climax buried deep within Mulder's ass.

"Oh shit." Mulder clung onto his Master as they both rested in the aftermath of their shared orgasm. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…" he nuzzled Skinner's neck, then his lips found those of his Master and he kissed him, half fainting in his big arms. He could feel Skinner's cock softening inside him, but still neither of them moved.

They sat there, Mulder straddling his Master's lap, their arms around each other for an eternity. Mulder watched the candles flicker and die out of the corner of his eye as Master and slave floated away together, on a haze of shared pleasure.

"I'm so high you're going to have to send a helicopter to get me back down," Mulder murmured.

Skinner smiled, and licked some sweat from his neck. "Good?" He asked.

"Oh god, yes," Mulder sighed. "I've a feeling I'm going to hurt like hell tomorrow though."

"Maybe - was it worth it?" Skinner asked, his hands gently stroking Mulder's back.

"You know it was. For you too, Master?" Mulder asked anxiously.

Skinner laughed out loud. "In case you didn't notice, I was having a ball!" He grinned.

"I like you like this…so close…" Mulder shut his eyes, and held on. There was just him, and the tautly muscled, lightly furred body of his Master, and the scent of sex, and sweat. Mulder felt a twinge of anxiety nag deep inside his stomach: his desire to spend a night in his Master's arms was no longer just a wish - it was a need. He thought of the trials ahead with a sinking heart. He knew his heart's desire depended upon him behaving himself for the next few days, and making Skinner proud of him at the party. Could he transcend his own self-destructive tendencies for long enough to avoid screwing things up? Mulder pulled his Master closer, relishing the feel of their bodies as they sat pressed together. Of course I can do it, he told himself. Easy. He closed his eyes, rested his head on Skinner's shoulder… and crossed his fingers behind the other man's back.

End of Part 6.

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