24/7  21. His Master’s Voice

 

“The purpose of tight bondage,” Skinner was saying, “is less to punish you, or to cause you discomfort, than by the means of that discomfort, to help you reach a stillness inside, and acceptance of your Master’s will in all things.”

 

He finished tying an intricate knot, and Mulder looked down on his bound body with a feeling of claustrophobia. Skinner had used rope, and had bound Mulder in a style that had a strange kind of symmetrical beauty. His arms were flat against his body, which was criss-crossed by a dozen or more lengths of rope. He was totally encased in the stuff – from his neck to his feet, and literally couldn’t move a muscle.

 

“As this is the first time I’ve used rope on you, and as you’re relatively inexperienced in coping with tight bondage, I’ve tied you in an easy position. All you have to do is just lie still. I will progress to demanding more of you – including making you quite uncomfortable for extended periods of time. You’ll learn how to deal with this,” Skinner said.

 

Mulder stared at his Master glumly, already squirming and trying to fight his new bondage. They were in the Dungeon, and Mulder was lying on a large, black massage table. He was so tightly bound that he could do nothing – literally – except stare at the ceiling, or, if he craned his head a fraction, at his Master who, having finished, had taken a step back and was surveying his handiwork with an expression of satisfaction.

 

“Master…please…I don’t think I can take this,” Mulder said.

 

“I understand.” Skinner nodded. “However, you will take it because I order you to. You have no choice, little one, so give up, and accept.” He stroked his slave’s head gently, and smiled down at him. “I’ll be here throughout – I will never leave you alone when you’re in tight bondage. If you are in any genuine difficulty then I will ease the bonds a fraction – but I will only release you if you are in severe difficulty. There is no reason for that to happen if you relax in your bonds, and submit to your Master’s will. Breathe deeply, slave – the bonds give you plenty of room to do that.”

 

Mulder tried to follow his Master’s orders, but, while he could easily have lain on this couch without moving a muscle if he had not been bound, the very fact that he was trussed up, and unable to even move so much as an inch, made him, conversely, want to wriggle and scream. Skinner stood over his slave, and looked down on him.

 

“You’re not trying, boy,” he growled.

 

“I don’t like it, Master,” Mulder protested.

 

“You don’t have to like it,” Skinner purred. “You simply have to endure it.”

 

“Master…you told me how much you hated bondage, when Andrew tied you… please…you must understand.” Mulder wriggled frantically, but the ropes didn’t move so much as a fraction of an inch. He was well and truly tied up.

 

“I did hate bondage, Fox, but I learned how to endure it – and I did that because Andrew insisted.” Skinner gave a wry half smile. “Bondage was good for me – and it will be good for you too. If you truly submit to the process, you will discover a kind of serenity and peace that you need. I’ve tied you before, slave, and you did discover such an inner peace, I believe, didn’t you?”

 

”Yes, Master, but that felt different!” Mulder protested. He remembered being suspended in the harness, and that had felt as if he was floating. This felt…like being tied up. Imprisoned. Out of control.

 

“Learn to accept the many facets of your slavery, Fox. Tight bondage is an important part of understanding who you are, and coming to terms with yourself. It helped me enormously.” Skinner brushed his slave’s hair gently away from his eyes. “I’ll place you in bondage twice a day for the next few days. Each time you will be tied for longer, and in more complex ways. You’ll learn to endure considerably more than this. I am not doing this merely for my own amusement – although you do make a very appealing figure.” Skinner grinned. “You know that I’ll fist you before the week is out. Now, fisting can carry an element of danger if there isn’t total trust between the two participants. I have no doubt that if you can surrender yourself to the experience, you’ll enjoy it, and that it will bring us very close.” He leaned over, and deposited a kiss on his slave’s lips. Mulder moaned. “Fisting is very…intimate.” Skinner smiled at his slave, their noses almost touching. “We’ll take our time, develop it into a little scene, and we’ll both be completely relaxed when it happens. While I’m fisting you, I’ll want you to keep still. I hope that after a week of tight bondage you’ll be able to relax at will, and submit to me without resistance.”

 

”Master…please…” Mulder tried again to fight against his bonds, and again he failed. He could feel the sweat breaking out on his forehead. “I don’t think I can do this, Master. Not the fisting, and not the bondage. I’m sorry,” he said, brokenly, feeling that he’d let his Master down. He was surprised, therefore, when Skinner just smiled at him, and shook his head.

 

”I’m not releasing you, boy,” he growled softly. “This isn’t a choice. Not the bondage, nor the fisting. You’re mine, little one. I’ll torture you, or love you, or bind you, or fist you, or whip you…I’ll do whatever pleases me with this beautiful body because it belongs exclusively to me.” He ran his finger over one of Mulder’s exposed nipples, and pinched it, hard, between his thumb and forefinger. Mulder gasped. “Who do you belong to, slave?” Skinner asked.

 

“You, Master…but…” Mulder began. Skinner’s fingers tightened, and he gave a squeal of pain. “But…I can’t…”

 

”Hush. Don’t you see?” Skinner’s face loomed into his field of vision again. “I’m taking away your right to use the word ‘I’, boy. You can make no demands. You can have no desires, or wishes, save pleasing your Master. Do you understand?”

 

Mulder stared into those uncompromising brown eyes. He knew his Master wouldn’t do anything to cause him any real harm, but he didn’t think he could endure all the other man had planned, and yet…Skinner was asking him to trust him, to give up everything, and he couldn’t refuse.

 

“I’ll try, Master,” he whispered.

 

“Good boy. You see, you aren’t making the choices, and you aren’t calling the shots any more,” Skinner purred, languorously stroking those parts of his slave’s naked flesh that were exposed between the ropes. “This is always what you’ve had the most problems with – the surrender of self. You’re strong, and proud, and you fight against what you need, which is why I’m here, boy. I’m here to make you accept your needs, and to help you find that elusive peace you’ve always sought and so rarely found. You belong to something outside yourself now, Fox. This body isn’t yours; it’s mine, to do with as I please. I don’t think you’ve ever truly embraced that concept, little one. You’ve paid lip service to it, but you’ve never truly understood what it means. You’re about to learn.” Skinner removed his hands abruptly, and Mulder watched, open-mouthed, as this man he thought he knew, but who seemed to have turned into something tantalizingly, frighteningly different, moved away from the couch, and over to one of the large trunks on the floor. The big man rummaged in the trunk for a while, and then returned to the massage couch holding a ball gag. Mulder groaned, and shut his mouth firmly.

 

“You’re talking too much. You won’t find any serenity if you do that,” Skinner said. “Open your mouth.”

 

”No,” Mulder said defiantly. “How will you know if I’m in trouble if you put that thing in me?”

 

”You can wiggle your toes,” Skinner said. “I left them free. Try it.” Mulder wriggled his toes and found that they were, indeed, free.

 

“What if you’re not watching when I move them?” He asked, playing for time.

 

”I’ll be watching. I wouldn’t want to take my eyes off this beautiful sight for a second,” Skinner replied, grinning an almost feral grin.

 

“What if…” Mulder began, only for his Master to take advantage of his slave opening his mouth to slip the ball gag between his teeth. Mulder growled, and thrashed his head around, as Skinner fastened it firmly around his jaw.

 

”There’ll be punishment for your disobedience afterwards,” Skinner warned, ominously. Mulder could have wept. Now, not only was he completely naked, and bound, but he was also gagged and couldn’t make a sound except extremely annoyed moaning.

 

“I’m going to sit over there and watch. You won’t be able to see me. I want you to switch off, and relax,” Skinner said. “When your time is up, I’ll return, and play with you for a while. You’ll submit to that, and learn how to endure it without moving. As you become more accustomed to this process, I’ll tie you in far more complex ways, and do much more…interesting things to your body. You’ll learn to take all of it. Without question. You might even,” he paused, and grinned, that same evil grin, “Enjoy it.”

 

Mulder closed his eyes, the sweat pouring down his forehead. He fought an internal battle as his Master disappeared from sight. He felt stranded, and he wanted to scream, and move, and the frustration of not being in the slightest control of his body was making him even more anxious. He couldn’t stand this. He moved his toes frantically.

 

“A word of warning. Wriggling your toes won’t automatically ensure release,” Skinner said, placing two firm hands on Mulder’s feet, testing the bonds thoughtfully. “I’ll simply check to see that you’re breathing okay, and aren’t in real difficulty.” He pressed his fingers against Mulder’s wrist, taking his pulse. “You’re fine, boy, just freaked out. I’ll punish you for that false signal later,” Skinner promised. Mulder’s treacherous cock betrayed him by fighting against the ropes that covered it. Skinner laughed, and patted it affectionately. “Severely,” he added.

 

Mulder thumped his head back down on the table with a sigh, and gazed at the ceiling in despair. There was clearly no way his Master was letting him out of this nightmare, so, from somewhere, he had to find the strength to accept it. He concentrated on relaxing each of his muscles, and closed his eyes, trying to drift off. The ropes were making themselves felt. He could feel them all over his flesh, tight, constricting, keeping him immobile, and that made him even more aware that he was out of control of his own body. He couldn’t give in, and he found himself squirming against the restriction.

 

“I can see you’re having difficulty coming to terms with your bondage,” Skinner said, and Mulder almost jumped – he’d forgotten the other man was there. “All right, I’m going to give you some help. I’m going to give you something outside yourself to focus on. This is a luxury you won’t have later on, boy – then I’ll expect you to focus on what’s inside, but on this first occasion, you can focus on my voice. Just close your eyes, breathe in, and empty your mind of all thoughts.”

 

Mulder relaxed a fraction. Skinner’s voice was so deep, and calming, so sexy and sensual, so full of dark, masterful promise that before long he was drifting, soothed beyond belief by those mellow tones. They reminded him of smooth, warm, melted chocolate, and he gave himself up the sensation of drowning in them, indulging in their rich wonder.

 

“You’re a helpless boy, at the mercy of his Master. You’re very much loved, but you’re very much a slave. You have no rights. You have no existence save that which it pleases your Master to bestow upon you. You are a plaything. You will surrender yourself, body, heart, mind and soul, to your Master. You will give yourself up entirely to his wishes, and his will. See yourself as he sees you – naked, and bound. It pleases him to see you so submissive, so completely reliant on his will, and word. You are no longer yourself, little one. You’re mine. You always were, and you always will be. You just needed to find the strength to be what you always knew, in your heart, was your destiny, and what you want most in the world. Mine, Fox. Mine.”

 

Mulder shivered in his bonds, alone with his Master’s voice. He was in thrall to the other man, utterly and completely, and all the fight went out of his body. He could hear Skinner walking around the room, and then his Master stopped.

 

”I enjoyed it when you recited that sonnet to me the other night – and I think you liked it when I said that poem to you, the time I first took you. Do you remember that time, Fox? You were hungry for my touch – you were so hot for me you were practically melting. You were my virgin – virgin to me. I made you my own that night, as I thrust into your waiting, willing body. Do you remember that?” Skinner whispered. Mulder could see the moment behind his eyelids, could feel his Master’s hard cock lancing deep into his body, taking him, making him his own. It had been such a good moment. “Nobody else existed for you before me, and nobody will again,” Skinner said, and Mulder knew that was the truth. “You are my creature, my slave. Mine to use, and abuse, and to love, and cherish, and hurt, and take into oblivion. Mine,” Skinner said again, possessively, full of pride. The bond between them was so strong in this moment, that Mulder could almost feel an invisible chord joining them together. “Murray has a good selection of erotic poetry,” Skinner said. “Would you like me to read you another poem, boy? This time, a poem of Master to slave. I’m sure I can find something suitable. Concentrate, slave!” He snapped, as Mulder moved his head, trying to see where his Master was standing.

 

“Close your eyes, and think of me. I’m going to read to you. Empty your head of everything except me, and the sound of my voice – the voice of your Master, of the man who owns you. Surrender to my voice, Fox.”

 

Mulder felt his body start to relax again. He was no longer aware of the ropes, or the tightness of the binding. All he could think about was his Master, and that beautiful dark, rich voice, so full of promise. He heard Skinner flick through a book, and then the other man started to read.

 

“magic seldom comes twice to the

 

s

 

 

 

 

 

ame house  

 

i know i whispered

 

but here you are again”

 

Mulder shivered. There was something about the way his Master intoned the word “magic” that made him tingle. The disembodied beginning of the poem seemed to echo his own, bound state.

 

“it’s no secret

 

that he loves

 

me

 

i beat it out of

 

him every night”

 

Mulder had an image of himself, bound over a desk, or chair, or ass up on the bed, and recalled his own difficulties in telling his Master that he loved him.

 

“he says I’m only

 

interested in his butt

 

i wanted to

 

deny it but my

 

first thought is to

 

turn him over

 

my knee  

 

 

 

he seems to

 

do everything he can

 

to get spanked

 

 

 

I suppose if I had

 

A butt like his

 

I’d be the same way”

 

Mulder moaned softly. He recognized the yearning in this poem, and the truth of his own life, and that of his Master. He remembered the many shameless ways in which he had asked for a spanking, even when he hadn’t realized that was what he was doing. Skinner’s voice shifted, moved down an octave, and became so low and soft that Mulder had to strain to hear it.

 

“Quiet now almost

 

Asleep he

 

Breathes as if

 

I weren’t even here

 

 

 

I move closer and

 

Pretend to be his dream.”

 

Mulder felt the warmth of his Master’s breath on his cheek, and knew that Skinner was standing beside him, but kept his eyes closed, enjoying the moment too much to want to break it.

 

“First time he

 

Called me

 

Honey I

 

Wanted to pour

 

Right in

 

his glass

 

and

 

slide on

 

down

 

his throat

 

 

 

his lips tremble

 

when his pants

 

are down

 

I pretend not to notice”

 

Mulder could hear the tiny catch of amusement in his Master’s voice at that line. It was too close to home. He knew his own lips had an unfortunate tendency to tremble at moments of impending punishment. This poem could have been written with their relationship in mind.

 

“n

 

aked at last

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

we can turn

 

 

 

o

 

 

 

 

 

ur thoughts to

 

better things

 

 

 

it doesn’t take much to

 

wake him up  

 

just a slap a kiss

 

and about ten minutes”

 

Mulder felt himself drifting off, sharing the experiences of the unknown sub being addressed in the poem. His Master’s voice was soothing, just like the image of honey that he had recited earlier. He hoped his Master would decide to slide his beautiful honey colored cock down his slave’s throat sometime soon. That thought pleased him, and he ached to be of use to his Master.

 

“please let me finish

 

writing I

 

interrupted  

 

don’t let me disturb

 

you he

 

said softly

 

brushing a bare

 

butt against the back

 

of my arm

 

 

 

he’s thin for

 

a wrestler  

 

it sometimes

 

takes all my strength

 

to be pinned”

 

Skinner’s voice was low, and intense, as he finished the poem but Mulder barely noticed it was over. He was drifting in a world of his own.

 

There was silence, but it was a peaceful silence, that was like bathing in a dark, warm womb. Mulder had long since ceased struggling. Now he had started to appreciate Skinner’s words about losing himself, finding serenity. He felt…at peace. His Master didn’t speak again, and Mulder didn’t move. He just lay there, accepting of his Master’s will. Some time later – he wasn’t sure how long, he heard movement in the room, and came back to the here and now. He hadn’t wanted that feeling to end, and felt almost bereft at being returned to reality. He had been somewhere good, somewhere true, where he could fully experience his slavery, and love it for being what he most wanted in the world. Skinner had been right about so many things. He seemed to know his slave better than Mulder knew himself.

 

“All right, little one?” Skinner whispered, gently stroking Mulder’s hair. Mulder blinked slowly, and Skinner smiled. “Good, because now I’m going to bring you back, and play with you a little, and then I’m going to punish you, as promised. Don’t move while I play with you. Keep in mind that place where you were.”

 

 

 

Mulder closed his eyes again, slowly, to show he had understood, and then he felt his Master’s warm lips brush his eyelids, and his nose. Skinner moved down, and sucked on Mulder’s neck. He stayed there so long that Mulder knew he’d have a hickey there. He liked that thought. He loved it when his Master placed his mark on his body. Skinner’s mouth fastened around his slave’s left nipple, and he sucked on it hard, and then gently teased it with his teeth, before sinking them into it more firmly. Mulder kept as still as he could, holding onto that calm place in his mind, trying to stay there despite the almost unbearable eroticism of the moment. He was his Master’s plaything. He existed to serve, and if the only way he could serve his Master was with his naked, bound, gagged body, then that was enough for him. Skinner’s teeth stopped tormenting him, and his Master bestowed a loving kiss on the tortured nipple, before moving onto the other nub of flesh. He licked that, as with the previous one, and then sucked on it, and this time Mulder anticipated the bite, and tried to steel himself for it, only for Skinner to draw back. “Don’t think, slave, just accept,” he warned. Mulder relaxed and Skinner resumed sucking on his reddened nipple, languorously, slowly, enjoying himself until Mulder thought he would go out of his mind with sensation, and then, without warning, those teeth nipped him hard again, and held him there, and he couldn’t scream, or writhe, he could only accept. The bite seemed to last a long time, and then it was over, and Skinner’s mouth was traveling down his torso; his tongue dipped into Mulder’s navel, and then down over his genitals, to his feet. Skinner sucked each of Mulder’s toes, and then kissed each one. Finally, he ran his fingers lightly over the soles of Mulder’s feet, and that, thought Mulder, was the worst torture of all. If he hadn’t been gagged he would have screamed. As it was, he writhed as much as his bonds would allow.

 

“Bad boy, Fox. Keep still,” Skinner said, although he must have known it was surely impossible. Mulder did his best, and by the time his Master finished that particular torment, he was a sweating, exhausted wreck. And Skinner had said he would go lightly in the beginning! If this was light, Mulder dreaded to think what heavy would be.

 

”All right, boy. Well done.”

 

Skinner slowly, oh so slowly, began removing the ropes, and finally, Mulder was free. He lay there, dazed for a moment, and his Master looked down on him, grinning broadly. “Good?” He asked.

 

”Some of it,” Mulder replied, shooting a dirty look at the other man. He sat up. It felt strange to be using his body again. All his muscles felt light, and insubstantial – it was the most bizarre feeling and he gazed at his Master in wonder.

 

“Like walking on air – yes?” Skinner asked and Mulder nodded, surprised.

 

“I feel…weird.”

 

”Make the most of it. It doesn’t last long,” Skinner advised. Mulder looked down on his body, expecting to see marks from the ropes, but apart from a few reddened areas, which were rapidly changing back to their normal color, there was no sign of the bondage he had just undergone. He ran his hands over his body, feeling where the ropes had been. He could almost feel them still there, but they had gone without leaving a trace.

 

“Good boy.” Skinner tilted Mulder’s chin and claimed a deep kiss. “However, a severe punishment is required I think,” he said sternly when he released his slave.

 

”Yes, Master.” Mulder bit on his lip, remembering his disobedience, and disrespect.

 

“I think that I’d like to create a more formal environment for this punishment,” Skinner mused. “Go and get yourself a glass of water from the kitchen, and remain there for ten minutes. Then go to the master bedroom, and dress yourself in the clothing you will find there. Make sure you look tidy – or there will be more punishment. When you’re dressed, come back here, and knock on the door. Then wait outside, until such time as I call you in. Understood?”
Mulder nodded, wondering what the hell was going to happen next.

 

He did as ordered, wandered down to the kitchen, still naked and barefoot…and trod on something squishy.

 

“Shit, what’s that?” He muttered, glancing down to see that he had trodden on the corpse of some kind of disemboweled rodent. “Damn, that’s so disgusting. Wanda!” he yelled, and the little Burmese cat scampered in, tail held high, and wound herself around his feet, clearly pleased with herself. “Was this you?” Mulder demanded, disposing of the corpse, and then washing his foot. Wanda jumped onto the kitchen table and examined the foot washing closely, and he rubbed her behind the ears. “Murderer,” he whispered to her in loving, sibilant tones. “Ruthless, cold-hearted killer.” She trilled with delight, clearly thinking he was murmuring terms of endearment. “Savage,” he taunted, and she leaned into him and exploded with cheerful pride.

 

Mulder glanced at the kitchen clock in alarm. His ten minutes were about up. He got a glass of water, and downed it in one gulp, and then ran back up the stairs, his stomach flipping in anticipation at his impending punishment. He had already been spanked once today – his morning discipline – but it hadn’t been very severe. He was aware that his marks were fading though, and he knew his Master was kind of fanatical about them. His stomach lurched as he wondered whether he was due another appointment with the dragon cane. He glanced down, with an expression of pride, to see the tiny gold dragon charm hanging from his right nipple ring. He loved the fact that Skinner had decorated him like this last night. The memory of sitting on the beach, wrapped up in his Master’s arms, toasting marshmallows, was so sweet. This vacation was turning out to be one delight after another – although, frankly, he had come to the conclusion there was such a thing as too much discipline. He shivered in anticipation about the coming punishment. Maybe this wouldn’t be a real punishment, maybe it would just be an erotic prelude to sex. Mulder opened the door to the master bedroom, surveyed the clothes waiting for him on the bed, and felt his stomach sink to his feet. It was clear there was absolutely no chance that this would be anything less than a severe chastisement, for there, lying waiting for him, was a pair of dark pants, white socks, shiny shoes, a white shirt, and striped tie, blazer with crest on it…in short, a school uniform. Mulder felt stupid just looking at it. He also felt 14 years old again, about to account for some misdemeanor or other with the school principal. While not exactly a problem pupil, he had gotten into his fair share of trouble. He’d almost forgotten that feeling, but now he was experiencing it all over again.

 

“Shit, you’re a grown man!” He scolded himself. “You’re almost 40 for god’s sake!” But as he pulled on that uniform, he felt exactly as he had done as an unruly teenager. In fact, looking in the mirror, he saw that the clothing had taken years off him. He looked impossibly young, and rather sullen and sultry in a hormonal teenage kind of way. Mulder liked the look. If his Master wanted him to act a part, and had taken the pains to dress him up, then maybe he should enter into the spirit of the event. It might make the punishment less painful. He was aware that while Skinner set up all these scenes, and he reacted to them, he hadn’t really initiated any himself, or fully thrown himself into the role-playing as yet. Maybe it was time to start.

 

Mulder wandered along to the Dungeon, and knocked, tentatively on the door. It didn’t take much imagination to get himself in character for this particular scene. He’d been in and out of trouble all his life, with one authority figure or another – so much so that sometimes he felt he’d never really left his schooldays behind. There was no reply, so he stood outside the door, feeling decidedly nervous. He tried to remember to breathe, but this scene was starting to feel reallyrealistic. After his Master had made him wait for long enough for him to want to climb the walls, the door was finally opened. Mulder looked up, and gazed at his Master, and his Master gazed at him, and there was a period of several seconds when they both tried very hard not to laugh. Skinner was dressed like the kind of old fashioned school principal that hadn’t existed for years – if ever. Like some kind of weird 1950’s English schoolmaster. He was wearing an academic gown and mortarboard, and he looked really rather nice, Mulder thought. Very strict…and kind of horny.

 

“Fox, come in.” Skinner opened the door, and Mulder shuffled cautiously past him, and then stopped. There, on the desk, rested the dragon cane, waiting for him. He swallowed hard, his stomach doing several somersaults. His right nipple, which was decorated with the tiny dragon charm, gave a little tingle.

 

”You’ve been sent to me for punishment?” Skinner said.

 

“Yes, sir,” Mulder muttered, trying to relax into the scene. If he was going to get the cane, then he’d at least like to be heavily into a scene when it happened – not, he suspected, that his Master would use that particular implement on him without preparing him for it first. Mulder came to a halt in front of the desk, and continued to eye the cane nervously. Skinner sat down behind the desk, and bent the cane casually between his hands as he watched his slave squirm. He fixed Mulder with a stern eye, and there was silence. Mulder felt himself starting to blush, and dropped his eyes, unable to meet that searching gaze.

 

“Why have you been sent here?” Skinner asked finally. Mulder decided to play the sulky adolescent for all it was worth.

 

“For disobedience, and disrespect sir. Although it wasn’t my fault.” He threw his Master a deeply insolent look, and tried to look as bored as possible.

 

“This isn’t the first time I’ve had to punish you for your attitude,” Skinner rapped out in stern, crisp tones that went straight to Mulder’s cock.

 

”No, sir,” he growled resentfully. “It really wasn’t my fault though. I was provoked.” He glared at his Master meaningfully.

 

“It’s never your fault, boy, is it?” Skinner said. “Well, I think we must teach you to take responsibility for your actions, Fox. I’m going to cane you.”

 

Mulder felt his breathing hitch. “That’s not fair, sir!” he protested.

 

Skinner’s eyes darkened, and for a moment Mulder felt genuinely worried.

 

“What isn’t fair, boy?” He asked, coldly. Mulder caught a gleam in his Master’s eyes, and suddenly realized that the other man was enjoying this! Thus emboldened, he responded heatedly.

 

“I try to stay within the rules, sir, but if the rules are crap that’s not my fault.”

 

”What did you say?” Skinner’s body had suddenly become tense, and taut. Mulder swallowed hard.

 

“The rules are crap, sir. Well they are!” He flung. “Screw you, and screw your fucking rules.”

 

That did it. Mulder felt a thrill of sheer erotic delight as his Master got up, grabbed his slave’s ear, and pushed him over the desk.

 

“Six of the best, boy,” Skinner hissed. Mulder’s stomach lurched. He could smell the surface of the desk beneath his nose, and the polished wood was slippery against his shirt. Oh god, this was good. It was at that moment that the impact of Skinner’s words kicked in and he shuddered – six! He’d barely been able to take two the other day. However, he soon realized that it wasn’t to be as bad as it sounded, as Skinner’s cane rested against his clothed bottom; he wasn’t going to receive the strokes on his bare ass. The cane tapped on his buttocks for a moment, and then there was a whoosh, followed by an explosion of pain across his backside. He gave a strangled yelp, but it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as taking licks on the bare, and as Skinner wasn’t marking him, he wasn’t hitting as hard either. Two more followed down in quick succession but the fourth really stung, and he jumped up, shrieking “shit” at the top of his voice. Skinner pushed him firmly down again. There was a pause, and then the cane was rested against his backside again. There was a long pause, and, then the cane was drawn back. Mulder couldn’t stand it. He reached out and placed his hand across his throbbing butt, trying to ward off the blow. Skinner held back the stroke, and gave his slave’s hand a firm thwack with the cane instead. Mulder yelped again, and removed his hand.

 

“Don’t do that again,” Skinner told him, delivering the next stroke at full speed, closely followed by the last. Mulder lay over the desk panting for a moment, his cock rock hard inside his pants. The illusion of the scene was such a turn on. Shit, no wonder Murray and Hammer enjoyed having this role-playing dungeon so much. “You can stand up now,” Skinner ordered, and Mulder stood, gingerly. “Corner.” Skinner pointed with the cane, and Mulder went, eyes cast down, feeling thoroughly, and delightfully disciplined. He revised his earlier opinion. In the hands of a skilled Master there was no such thing as too much discipline.

 

He stood staring at the wall for twenty minutes, enjoying the little waves of pain emanating from his stinging butt; he didn’t dare rub it in case it brought the wrath of his Master down on him. Then, he felt a hand wrap itself around his chest, and a large, strong body cover him from behind, pressing up close and rubbing against him.

 

“Like that?” Skinner whispered, effectively bringing the scene to a close. “Did you enjoy that, sweetheart?”

 

”Oh god, yes.” Mulder moaned, leaning back against his Master’s chest. “Could we play more often, Master?”

 

“If you’re good…or should that be bad?” Skinner swatted his slave on his sore rump and Mulder gave a dramatic and not entirely convincing yelp.

 

”It’s about time you relaxed and loosened up. I’ve told you before that you take things too seriously. I loved you like this – throwing something back at me, moving the scene on. It was good…and quite a turn on.” Skinner grinned, reaching for his slave, and pressing a hard, firm, loving kiss on Mulder’s mouth. Mulder returned it, eating his Master eagerly, and then he started giggling. A wave of total euphoria washed over him, and he couldn’t contain it. He was on a post-scene high. After the calm silence of the bondage, he had suddenly become aware that he was alive – totally, blood tinglingly alive. His body, which had so often borne the brunt of his self destructive streak in the past, had been transformed into a playground, and his brilliant mind, which he had devoted to his quest all his life, had now become a fantasy world, where he could go anywhere, and do anything, and all in the company of this man who had opened his mind and body to these new ideas, and shown him a pleasure he had never even known existed.

 

”What is it?” Skinner drew back, as Mulder started to giggle insanely. “Fox?” Skinner was grinning too, in response to his slave’s obvious mirth.

 

”I love you!” Mulder yelled.

 

“What?” Skinner raised an eyebrow, and Mulder grabbed his Master’s face, and kissed him.

 

“Punish me – I don’t care. I love you. Oh god, it’s all so easy. All of it. Life, the universe, everything. I feel as if I could…” Mulder was suddenly 8 years old and out trick- or- treating at Halloween, sick with excitement, and unable to stay still. His whole body vibrated with the intensity of this energy, and he had to move. The bondage, followed by the exhilaration of the scene, had somehow loosened his inhibitions, and made him appreciate everything he had always denied himself. “I love you, I love you…I love this house…I love our apartment. I love my job, my life. I love Scully!” Mulder cried, throwing his arms around expansively, and almost hitting his Master in the process. He ran out of the dungeon, and down the stairs, dancing, and singing. He twirled into the kitchen, picked up Wanda, and held her in the air. “I love Wanda!” He proclaimed. “I love all cats!” He kissed Wanda firmly on the forehead and dumped her on the kitchen table. “I love the sea!” He yelled glancing out of the window. He was aware of his bemused, amused Master coming down the stairs behind him. “I love it all!” He cried excitedly, running around the table with a surfeit of energy, jumping up on it, and then leaping down to crash at his Master’s feet. “I love my Master! I love being a slave. I love…” Skinner placed a finger over his slave’s lips, looking down on him.

 

“Yourself?” He asked.

 

Mulder hesitated. “Almost,” he replied. “Almost, Master.” He wasn’t quite there, but he was closer than he’d ever been in his life. He might not have learned to love himself, but he had, at least, learned not to hate himself, and he’d learned to enjoy himself as well.

 

Skinner smiled, and shook his head. “We’ll get there, boy,” he said. Mulder kissed his Master’s shoes, and then stood up. “Are we done, Fox?” Skinner asked. Mulder was reminded of a completely different time and place when his Master had asked that same question. They had come a long way since then.

 

“I don’t think so, Master,” he replied. “I have too much energy.”

 

“And I love seeing you like this.” Skinner grinned. “Careful you don’t crash though, slave. Sometimes I’ve watched you soar so high, and fall back to earth. This time I want to make sure you don’t crash land.”

 

”I won’t,” Mulder said airily, and too cheerfully.

 

They spent the evening cooking an exotic meal, which Mulder assured his Master would taste nice, although Skinner clearly had reservations about the mix of spices his slave was putting into the food. However, some of Mulder’s exuberance must have gone into the meal, because it was delicious. It was all Mulder could do to sit still enough to eat it, and finally Skinner had to threaten him with deep submission and tight bondage to get him to shut up and at least try and eat the meal. Mulder got up a dozen times, to get wine, or water, or just because he couldn’t keep still. He kept up a constant stream of conversation as well, blinding his Master with his knowledge, skipping over a hundred topics, his whirlwind mind buzzing with a euphoria that he couldn’t contain, and had to transmit in some way to his audience. Skinner indulged him. The other man was looking gorgeous in an open necked shirt, and jeans, and he ate slowly, never taking his eyes off his slave, nodding here and there, inserting a comment when he could get a word in edgeways, and smiling to himself when Mulder went off on some flight of fancy. When Mulder next paused for breath, he saw that it was dark outside, and the kitchen clock showed that it was past midnight. Shit! Where had the evening gone? His Master was still patiently enduring his verbal diarrhea, and he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to stop. Luckily, Skinner saw the problem.

 

“Fox, it’s time for your second session of bondage for the day,” he said, taking advantage of the momentary pause.

 

“Master…no, please…I can’t be still.” Mulder waved his hands expansively in the air.

 

“But you do need to come down from the high, boy,” Skinner said firmly.

 

“I know, but…oh god, please don’t tie me up. I’ll implode if you do!” Mulder said, getting up, his long legs twitching restlessly.

 

“I won’t tie you. I have something else in mind,” Skinner told him. “Go up to the bedroom – leave the dishes, you can do them tomorrow.”

 

Mulder nodded, still uncertain about whether he could endure more bondage, and danced up to the bedroom, whistling tunelessly to himself as he went. Skinner was right behind him, and accompanied the whistling with a drumbeat on his slave’s bottom as they climbed the stairs. Mulder tumbled into the bedroom, and opened his mouth to start talking again, when Skinner stopped him by the simple expedient of placing a hand over his mouth.

 

“Quiet, boy. You’ll never sleep tonight if you carry on like this, and I think you’re tired.” Skinner raised an eyebrow, and Mulder thought about it, and then nodded. Skinner withdrew his hand and Mulder opened his mouth, and then closed it again, and bit down hard to keep himself from descending into more verbal diarrhea. “Stay quite still. I’m going to undress you,” Skinner said, and Mulder nodded fervently, and started unbuttoning his shirt. Skinner’s hands stopped him. “I said that I was going to undress you. You, are going to remain still.” Mulder nodded again, and tried to concentrate on remaining still, but it was hard when he was buzzing so much. Skinner quickly divested him of his shirt and tie, and then moved on to his slave’s pants. Mulder started to hop. His mind was going through a dizzying freefall, and he couldn’t keep either quiet or still.

 

”Did you know that the earth revolves at almost 1000 miles an hour? When I was a kid I couldn’t understand why we didn’t all whiz off into space. I mean how can it be that fast and we don’t even feel it?” He asked Skinner.

 

“I have no idea,” Skinner grunted, trying valiantly to divest his slave of his pants while Mulder gesticulated frantically with his hands, and skipped to and fro, completely unable to stay in one place.

 

“I wonder what it would be like to be on a planet that went really fast? Or really slow. Would that make a difference to the way you perceived the world? What kind of life would evolve on such a planet?” Mulder mused thoughtfully, holding out one leg and hopping out of his pants with the other.

 

“Maybe some of us wouldn’t talk so much?” Skinner suggested.

 

”All this movement,” Mulder said, ignoring his Master. “I mean we’re whizzing around the sun and the sun is whizzing around the Milky Way and the Milky Way is whizzing around the other galaxies, and there’s all this energy, all this movement, and…” He couldn’t stop himself gesturing as he spoke, and he thwapped his Master soundly in the face.

 

”That’s enough, boy!” Skinner roared. “All this energy, and all this movement are coming to an end right now.” And, having divested his slave of the last of his clothing, he threw Mulder on the bed. Mulder looked up at his Master in surprise, and began to bounce back up again, when Skinner suddenly descended on him, grabbed him firmly in his arms, and wrestled him back down. Mulder gazed up at the pair of dark eyes that were literally an inch away. Skinner was lying on top of him, pinning him down, and he couldn’t move. He started to wriggle, and his Master captured his hands, held them firmly against his side, and kept him there. “Human bondage,” Skinner said. “Half an hour, Fox. Don’t move.”

 

”You’re going to lie on top of me for half an hour?” Mulder asked in alarm. “I can’t breathe.”

 

”Yes you can,” Skinner sighed patiently. “Now, I want you to be very still, and very silent. I want you to focus on the sound of our hearts beating.”

 

“I can’t…” Mulder started to panic. He had too much energy for this! But Skinner’s hands were firm, and his body was too big for Mulder to throw off. He fought, uselessly, against the other man for a long time, his breath coming in gasps, but Skinner was unrelenting. He held on tight, and refused to allow his slave to get up, or even to move as much as he wanted beneath his Master’s large bulk. Mulder felt that same frustration he had felt earlier, when tied with his Master’s rope, but there was something so intimate about this situation, with his Master’s face so close to his own, and his hands, and his body holding him down. He gave a cry, and finally the energy broke, and he came to rest, silent, and still. Breathing heavily, he examined his Master’s features – rendered strange, and unfamiliar at such close quarters. Skinner’s skin was mostly smooth, but a little craggy in places – rugged, and Mulder found that very attractive.

 

“Calmer now?” Skinner asked. Mulder nodded, surrendering to his Master’s will.

 

“Was I that out of it?” He whispered.

 

”Yes. It was nice – but you were definitely heading for that crash landing,” Skinner grinned.

 

”This isn’t it?” Mulder glanced pointedly down at what he could see of his body that wasn’t obscured beneath his Master.

 

“No. This was more of a controlled landing,” Skinner said.

 

“We don’t have to stay like this. We could have sex,” Mulder suggested hopefully. His cock was hardening at being in such close proximity to his Master’s body, and being able to smell the other man’s scent.

 

“No, slave. First you experience the bondage, and then you might be in the right frame of mind to get some sleep,” Skinner said firmly. Mulder made a face.

 

”Want you,” he murmured mischievously, kissing the side of his Master’s face.

 

“That’s two,” Skinner said.

 

”Two what?”

 

“Four now – one stroke of my belt for every single word you say from now on, boy,” Skinner informed him. Mulder made a face, and then finally slumped and relaxed beneath his Master’s body. Skinner didn’t move. He was like a rock; firm, solid, unyielding, and Mulder felt himself sinking into the warmth and serenity of his slavery. He had to concentrate on breathing – Skinner was a considerable weight – but if he was calm, and didn’t use up his energy in fighting, it was easier to accept the bondage, and breathe easily. He concentrated on his Master’s ear – which was nicely edible, and the feel of his Master’s naked scalp against his cheek. His energy seeped out, slowly, but surely, until he found that place he had been in earlier in the day. As he had been before, he was almost surprised when Skinner told him that his time was up, and carefully disengaged himself. Mulder stared up at his Master – and found he couldn’t move.

 

“I’m so tired,” he whispered.

 

“I know. I could tell.” Skinner smiled. “Stay there.” He got undressed, went to the bathroom, and returned to his slave’s side. “You can take those four swats with the belt tomorrow morning,” he promised.

 

”Yes, Master,” Mulder murmured, closing his eyes. He was dimly aware of his Master climbing into the bed, and turning the light off, and then Skinner grabbed his slave, and pulled him close, against his naked body. “Where’d’you learn that trick? From Andrew?” he asked, finding it hard to imagine his Master being pinned to the bed by his much slighter, more slender top. Andrew hadn’t been a big man.

 

“No, from my puppy, Ruben, when I was a teenager. Dogs respond well to firm, loving discipline, just like slave boys, and they need to know who is the pack leader, and dominant animal – just like slave boys.” Skinner squeezed Mulder’s buttocks lightly. “When we first got Ruben he was so wild we had to call in an animal behaviorist. Her advice was to push him to the ground, and hold him there for several seconds so that he understood who was in charge. It seems to work on slaves too.” Skinner kissed the back of Mulder’s neck. “I adored Ruben,” Skinner murmured. Mulder closed his eyes sleepily. “And you,” Skinner said, just before his slave fell fast asleep, with a smile curving along his lips.

 

Mulder was wakened by the sting of belt leather on his naked bottom.

 

”Shit! What’s that for?” He growled, glancing around blearily to find the covers drawn back, and his Master’s belt thwacking lightly, but soundly on his naked flesh.

 

”Last night’s punishment,” Skinner told him.

 

”Yowl!” Mulder buried his head in his hands, and pulled the pillow over his head as his Master delivered the final two swats in quick succession. Mulder’s morning erection was excited by the sudden, and unexpected discipline. The punishment was soon over, and Skinner slid into bed beside his naked slave and caressed his hot bottom.

 

“Also, I wanted to use you, and I like doing that best when this ass is glowing and warm.” Skinner pinched it to illustrate the point, and Mulder yelped. He felt completely uninhibited, and at ease. His Master pulled him close, and parted the burning halves of his slave’s butt, and soon he felt Skinner’s hard cock pressing against his opening, and then he was impaled on his master’s cock, and his Master was riding him deep, and hard. It felt so good, and his senses were still reeling from the unexpected awakening. He wondered if this was what it was like for Skinner to be awakened by a blow job each morning; these dual sensations of laziness, slack muscles, raging libido, and sluggish, slowly wakening senses. His Master thrust one last time, and then came, and they were still for a while.

 

“Did you know,” Skinner said conversationally, resting his head on Mulder’s shoulder, “that the Earth revolves at 1000 miles an hour?”

 

“Shit,” Mulder groaned. “Did I really talk all that crap last night?”

 

”Yes – it was adorable,” Skinner chuckled.

 

“Oh god.” Mulder buried his face in his pillow. His cock was aching, and he was aware that his Master was still buried deep inside his ass. “Master…permission to come,” he requested politely, longing to touch his cock but knowing that was forbidden. Skinner thought about it for a moment.

 

“Permission denied,” he said finally. Mulder nodded.

 

“As you wish, Master,” he whispered, so deep into his slavery that he didn’t mind. In fact, it just made his cock ache all the more exquisitely, knowing that his Master had this degree of power and control over him. They dozed for a few minutes, and then Skinner withdrew from his slave with a plopping sound, and walked, naked, to the bathroom. Mulder rolled off the bed, and followed him, his cock sticking out from his body at almost comical angle. He found Skinner brushing his teeth, the shower already on, waiting for them. Mulder stood behind his Master, and surveyed the pair of them in the mirrored bathroom tiles. They were reflected back, all around, Master and slave, the one fully sated, the other with a massive hard on. Mulder brushed a kiss along the back of his Master’s neck.

 

“Did I mention yesterday that I love you, Master?” He asked.

 

”Yes, several times,” Skinner grinned rinsing his mouth, and stepping towards the shower.

 

“Good. I love you.” Mulder felt as if this great truth was one that needed to be expressed every day. It made him laugh to think how hard those three simple words had once been for him. “Shit, how many months has it taken for me to be able to say that, out loud, so easily?” He asked, shaking his head.

 

“It’s all the more sweet for taking so long. Anticipation is…”

 

”Half the pleasure!” Mulder finished for him. “You make that damn saying apply to everything, Master.”

 

“Yes, slave, I do. Which is why you’re forbidden to come until further notice,” Skinner grinned. Mulder smiled back, and shook his head.

 

“I still love you, Master,” he said. “In fact, I think now I’ve discovered how easy it is to say, I might have to say it almost constantly.”

 

”That’s fine by me, boy. “ Skinner got into the shower, and Mulder followed, and grabbed the soap in order to begin attending to his Master. He started at Skinner’s feet, kneeling under the spray of the shower, and kissing each one, before soaping them. “One thing, boy.” Mulder looked up, and his Master flicked the spray of water into his face, making him splutter. “I love you too,” Skinner said, bending to deposit a perfect wet kiss on his slave’s lips.

 

The shower was long, hot, and satisfying. Afterwards, Mulder pulled on a pair of shorts and a tee shirt, and trotted down the stairs feeling totally and utterly relaxed. So relaxed, in fact, that he forgot to check where he was treading, and once more landed on the squishy entrails of a rodent. The body was strewn out in various places all over the kitchen.

 

“Shit, Wanda. It looks like a scene of rat carnage,” Mulder growled. The little cat immediately wound her way around his ankles, purring ecstatically. “That’s the trouble with apartment cats – once they get the taste of blood they change,” Mulder said mournfully, picking her up and depositing her on the table, so that she wouldn’t interfere with his rodent mopping up operation. “By day, mild mannered, furry feline, prone to sappy bouts of total adoration, and by night a ruthless hunter. That’s you – barbarian.” She rubbed her head against his waist, still fairly pleased with herself. Mulder opened the kitchen drawer, looking for something to wrap the corpse in, and found some chalk, and duct tape, amongst numerous other items in the drawer. An idea occurred to him, and, feeling impossibly cheerful, he painstakingly drew a chalk outline on the tiled floor around the dead rodent, and then picked the corpse up, and deposited it in an old grocery bag, before throwing it in the trash. He cordoned off the area with duct tape, just as Skinner came down the stairs.

 

”What’s this?” Skinner asked, glancing at his slave with a bemused expression.

 

”Don’t walk there, Master. You’re disturbing the crime scene,” Mulder said. “One dead rat.” He pointed at the chalk outline. “And there was another one in the same spot yesterday. It looks to me as if we have a serial killer on our hands, Master.”

 

”You could be right.” Skinner mused thoughtfully, crossing his arms over his chest, and tugging on his lip. “Hmmm. Any ideas as to who the culprit might be?”

 

“Well, I know I have an alibi for last night. How about you?” Mulder asked.

 

“Tucked up in bed with a naked slave all night long,” Skinner replied. “So, Agent, any other clues to go on? Have you gathered forensic evidence from the scene of the crime?”

 

”Not yet, sir. I’d like your permission to interrogate our prime suspect though.”

 

“Ah yes, and who might that be?” Skinner asked with a definite twinkle in his eye.

 

“Well, I’ve done a profile, sir.” Mulder began pacing the kitchen floor, as if deep in thought. “I think our perp is almost certainly female – the act was particularly savage, with entrails everywhere, and we all know the female of the species is more deadly than the male.”

 

”Quite so.” Skinner nodded.

 

“Small, agile, and possessed of a great cunning,” Mulder continued. “About two years old – I sense an almost kittenish mischief to the act…hmmm. Any ideas, sir?”

 

”None, Agent. I’m completely stumped,” Skinner grinned, pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

 

Wanda sat on the kitchen table, purring at them both serenely. Skinner sat down beside her, and rubbed her ears. “What kind of animal could do such a thing as this, Agent?” He asked, in a shocked tone.

 

”Only a devious, unprincipled creature, sir,” Mulder replied. “Utterly without morals, and completely bloodthirsty.”

 

”Maybe there were mitigating circumstances?” Skinner pressed his nose against Wanda’s and she rubbed her cheek against his. “Perhaps the perp was killing to feed her starving children, or to bring gifts for loved ones who have shown no aptitude for hunting, much to her dismay?”

 

”Possibly.” Mulder mused. “One more thing, sir. The perp is almost certainly a feline.”

 

”What?” Skinner gasped theatrically. ”You don’t mean…you’re not saying that the serial killer is…Wanda?” He picked her up and hugged her possessively to his chest.

 

“I’m afraid so, sir.” Mulder shook his head mournfully.

 

“What’s the sentence likely to be?” Skinner asked, tickling Wanda behind the ears.

 

”Life imprisonment in a huge apartment in Crystal City where she’ll be doted upon by two adoring slaves, and given every indulgence she requires at a flick of her tail,” Mulder replied with a grin.

 

“A fitting punishment.” Skinner kissed his cat, and then reached up, drew Mulder’s head down, and kissed his slave firmly on the lips. “You know, Fox, I think that someone is ready to go back to work,” he commented when he released his slave.

 

“You know, Master, I think you might be right.” Mulder grinned. “But not just yet.”

 

“No.” Skinner traced the outline of his slave’s scar through his tee shirt. “You’ve done very well, sweetheart,” he murmured. “You’re everything I knew you could be once you relaxed, let go of the past, and started to enjoy yourself.”

 

“Thanks to you, Master.” Mulder covered his Master’s hand where it lay over the scar, and his heart. “Master, does this mean you’ll collar me again?” He couldn’t keep the yearning out of his voice.

 

“I hope so,” Skinner said cautiously. “You’ve done well, Fox, but I won’t lie to you – the test is still how you behave when you’re back at work. You find it harder there. It’s easier without any outside pressures.”

 

”I know, but I think I’ve turned a corner…um, not that I think I’ll be excessively obedient or anything…”

 

”God forbid,” Skinner interrupted.

 

“Just that it all just seems to make sense in my head now. It seems so easy, when before it was hard,” Mulder mused.

 

“That’s because you were fighting it before.”

 

”Yes. I know. Not any more.” Mulder smiled, and deposited a kiss on Wanda’s face. “Master…one thing I’ve wanted to ask you. I know I’m not in any position to be asking anything but…” He hesitated but Skinner nodded, urging him to continue, and Mulder took his life in his hands and plowed on. “Being here, sleeping in the same bed with you every night…I was wondering, when we go back…can I sleep in your bed every night at home as well?” He asked. Skinner didn’t reply, and Mulder’s heart dived into the soles of his feet. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…it’s just something I want so much,” he said.

 

“Well, it’s something I’d enjoy too,” Skinner said thoughtfully. “All right, slave, I agree – however this is a privilege, and not a right. I may choose to punish you by sending you to your old room for the night when you misbehave, or simply on a whim – because I can.”

 

”Yes, Master. I understand.” Mulder couldn’t help feeling elated. This was one of his secret pleasures. It was amazing how something so simple could cause him such delight. He loved sleeping beside his Master.

 

After breakfast, Skinner ordered him up to the Dungeon, instructed him to take off his clothes, and then began preparing several lengths of rope. Mulder watched, apprehensively.

 

“Will you be tying me the same way as yesterday, Master?” He asked.

 

“No, boy. I won’t. Today’s bondage will be for a special purpose. I want to whip you,” Skinner said, glancing at his slave, his hands full of rope. Mulder’s heart lurched.

 

“Whip me, Master? Have I displeased you?” He asked, in a faltering tone.

 

”No. In fact, you’ve been very pleasing, which is why I’m going to whip you. This will be a very special kind of whipping, but it’s one I think you’re ready for. Lie on your back on the table.” Skinner pointed, and Mulder swallowed hard, but found himself obeying despite his fear.

 

“On my back, Master?” He questioned, wondering where exactly this whipping was to take place.

 

”Yes, boy and don’t question me,” Skinner growled. “You heard first time.”

 

Mulder quickly shimmied onto the table and lay there, trying to breathe.

 

“You know what’s going to happen,” Skinner purred, coming over the table, and flexing a length of rope thoughtfully. “Don’t fight it, boy. It’s your Master’s pleasure.”

 

Mulder’s cock lurched, and then gave a shiver of anticipation before shriveling pitifully.

 

“Yes, you do well to be afraid,” Skinner smiled. Mulder was shocked by just how dark and masterful the other man could become when he wanted. This was the hard, uncompromising Skinner of yesterday, a man Mulder feared, and wanted to please without question.

 

“Open your legs wide,” Skinner ordered, and Mulder obeyed, feeling completely exposed. Skinner bound his slave carefully, and precisely; a process that took half an hour, so meticulous was his Master. Mulder glanced down at the network of ropes and found them curiously beautiful. He was astonished by how good his Master was at tying the most intricate knots.

 

“Don’t tell me, you were a boy scout,” he commented, as almost every inch of his body disappeared beneath the rope.

 

“An Eagle scout as a matter of fact,” Skinner grinned.

 

Mulder groaned, and rolled his eyes. “Figures. They threw me out of the scouts,” he said mournfully.

 

“Figures,” Skinner threw back with a chuckle. He tightened a knot, and then stood back to survey his handiwork. Mulder craned his neck to see the results; he was tied even tighter than yesterday – completely immersed in rope, like an ancient Egyptian Mummy, except for one crucial area of his body that was entirely free; his cock and balls. The sensation of being tied everywhere but there made his cock give a leap of interest, which was quickly subdued as he recalled why his genitals had been left free. His legs, arms, and torso had been bound to hooks at the end and side of the table. Skinner was obviously taking no chances of his slave moving.

 

“All right, you’re done. I’m going to leave you for half an hour. You can call me over if you have a problem, boy. I want you to spend your time wisely, preparing for the way in which I intend to discipline you later,” Skinner said warningly. Mulder swallowed hard, but his lips were too dry, and he was too nervous to reply. He entered a state of peace and calm more easily than the previous day, but at the back of his mind all he could think about was the fact that his Master was going to whip his exposed genitals. Skinner had never done anything like this before, and Mulder was seriously scared by the idea. Only the comforting mummification of the ropes stopped him from freaking out. They also reminded him of his status. He couldn’t fight, couldn’t wriggle, or do anything except every single stroke his Master decided to land on his body. He had no control over the process. His Master was in charge and would, undoubtedly, do exactly as he pleased. It was out of Mulder’s hands. That thought relaxed him, but the half an hour passed all too quickly, and soon his Master was by his side again. The big man was holding a small, many lashed whip in his hands – it was so delicate and perfect that Mulder was reassured. Surely that beautiful object couldn’t cause him too much pain? The suede lashes were so light, and slender. Mulder was acutely aware of the fact that his legs were bound open to reveal his genitalia, offered up to his Master like a sacrifice, and he shivered inside his bonds.

 

“Close your eyes. I want you to shut out every single sensation except what I’m going to be doing to you,” Skinner said. “I won’t talk. I want you to concentrate.”

 

Mulder did as ordered, and tensed, waiting for the first blow. When it came it was so light and feathery that he almost laughed out loud. It hadn’t hurt at all. It had been more like a caress. He relaxed in his bonds. His Master stroked his penis, and alternated that with blows from the tiny whip. It was an entirely pleasant process, and soon Mulder was fully erect. The longer his Master worked, the hotter his hard cock became…and slowly, oh so slowly, what had started as little more than a warming caress, sharpened into a slight sting. Mulder was aware of an edge of pain that hadn’t been there at the beginning, and he started to moan, and pant. He was unable to do anything to move away from the insistent stroking of the whip because of his bonds, but it was starting to hurt. Not much, just enough to be erotic, and to send the endorphins buzzing around his body.

 

“Master…” he croaked.

 

“You can’t come, boy,” Skinner said.

 

”I know…please…” He wished he could move away from those endless nipping bites that were starting to drive him crazy, but he couldn’t. He was tied fast, and every single blow aimed at his exposed penis went home. It was arousing, and maddening, and painful and hot all at the same time. He was going to go out of his mind on the sensation.

 

“Hush. I’m not done yet. You have a lot more to endure before I’m through,” Skinner said, rubbing Mulder’s penis with his hand, soothing and arousing it. Mulder sighed, relieved by the brief respite, but then Skinner’s hand was removed, and the stinging, biting caress of the tiny little whip started again. Mulder opened his eyes, and watched his Master work. Skinner was totally immersed in the task at hand, and he wasn’t doing more than flicking his wrist, and lightly whipping Mulder’s exposed penis, and yet the build up and intensity of those strokes was sending Mulder out of his mind. Mulder noted that his Master had placed his free hand by his slave’s cock, and thus tested each stroke delivered, ensuring they were kept at an even, bearable pace and strength, and caused no harm to his slave.
”I said close them,” Skinner grunted, and Mulder started in surprise – his Master clearly had eyes in the back of his head because he wasn’t even looking at his slave. “I want you to focus on your cock, and on your Master’s will, and how he is enjoying disciplining his slave in this way,” Skinner hissed. Mulder closed his eyes as ordered. In fact, it was impossible notto focus on his cock. Every single inch of the rest of him was fully bound in rope, and his cock was the only thing undergoing any kind of sensation. He became fixated on that organ, aware that it was hard, and aroused, and hurt, and that every single flick of his Master’s wrist brought him even closer to the kind of endorphin high that he loved so much. Soon he was screaming, not for Skinner to stop – but for him to continue, as he felt his ecstasy spiral out of control.

 

”Oh shit…shit…please…let me come…” Mulder begged, but the relentless whip just continued its work, caressing Mulder’s hard, weeping, hot cock. He felt sure his cock was covered in welts it stung so much, but still his Master didn’t stop. Now the pain was much more severe; it had built up to a level where it hurt so much and felt so good that Mulder wasn’t sure whether it was pain or pleasure that he was feeling. He was beyond coherent thought. He was just his exposed cock, and the terrible torment that was being done to it…and then suddenly, without warning, the whipping stopped, and his cock was immersed in a warm, wet, caressing, soothing mouth. Mulder shouted out loud, and went over the brink. His mind exploded with a firework display so stunning and intense that he actually passed out for several seconds. When he came to, his entire body was limp, and exhausted, utterly without life. He was aware of his Master standing over him, busily undoing the ropes that bound him, but even when they had all gone, he couldn’t move. He was beyond movement.

 

“So, little one, still so horrified by the thought of a cock whipping?” Skinner grinned. Mulder shook his head.

 

“Unbelievable. I had no idea…” he managed to murmur, glancing down at his poor cock, expecting to see it had been whipped to shreds. Instead it looked remarkably healthy, if somewhat red. He reached out a freed hand to touch it, and it felt so sensitive that he yowled out loud.

 

”That will teach you to touch what isn’t yours,” Skinner grinned. “Now, outside for a swim – some salt water should soothe that back to normal.”

 

”Swim? I can’t even walk,” Mulder grumbled, trying to get up, and failing, collapsing back onto the couch. Skinner picked up the small whip and held it out threateningly.

 

“Swim – or another whipping,” he threatened, and Mulder reluctantly swung his legs away from the table.

 

They spent a perfectly nice day, until Skinner decided it was time for Mulder’s second bout of bondage in the late afternoon.

 

“I’m in the mood for some beach bondage,” Skinner said, eyeing his slave thoughtfully. “I like the idea of you staked out.” He returned to the house and reappeared a few minutes later with a little bag of goodies. He ordered Mulder down to some wet sand closer to the water, and banged 4 heavy stakes into the ground. He positioned Mulder spread-eagled on his front on the ground, and tied his wrists and ankles firmly to the stakes. Mulder felt stretched – his Master had not given him any slack, and his legs and arms were fully extended, and tied without any room for relaxing.

 

“This will test your endurance, little one, but I won’t keep you here for too long,” Skinner said, retiring a few yards up the beach to sit on his beach chair once more, and enjoy the view of his naked, staked out slave. Mulder put his face down on the wet sand, and a few minutes later, evidence of the full extent of his Master’s devious nature became plain as he felt water lapping against his ankles. The wave receded, and washed in again, and each time crept slowly up his body, immersing more of him in cold water on each occasion. Mulder glanced up at his Master, but Skinner was just sitting, watching, thoroughly enjoying himself. The water was freezing, but his body was warm from lazing in the sun, which made the contrast all the more severe. Mulder cursed his Master under his breath. Only Skinner could think up a torture this cunning. The next wave lapped right up to his cock, and he gave a startled shout. His cock was still so sensitive from the whipping that every single sensation was enhanced a hundred times over. Mulder tugged pointlessly on his cuffs. He was bound tight, and they were utterly unyielding. He felt as if he was in a film, the captive of vicious cannibals, and about to be eaten.

 

Finally, just as the water reached his slave’s chest, Skinner returned to untie him.

 

“You know,” he murmured thoughtfully, as he released Mulder’s wrists, “I’ve always had a yen to replay that scene from the movie, From Here to Eternity.”

 

Mulder looked up at his Master, and grinned. “Strange, I never took you for a closet Debra Kerr,” he winked.

 

“Sorry to disappoint you, boy, but you’re going to be Debra – I’m going to be Burt Lancaster,” Skinner growled, launching himself on his slave, and taking him in his arms. Mulder laughed, and surrendered to his Master’s embrace as the sea lapped up over their naked bodies. Skinner pinned Mulder to the sand, and slid easily into his slave’s waiting ass. Mulder loved sex in this position – with Skinner above him, overpowering him, and at the same time able to look into his slave’s eyes as he thrust into him. Skinner went slowly, savoring the moment, and claiming several long sweet kisses from his slave as the water washed over their bodies, and the sun began to sink down over the horizon. His Master pushed deep inside him, and Mulder convulsed against him, milking his Master’s hard cock with his internal muscles for all his was worth, and enjoying the look on his Master’s face as he came with a shout, his slave’s name on his lips. The water washed around them for a few more minutes as they lay sated on the sand, and then Skinner withdrew, and helped his slave to his feet.

 

“Time for a hot bath,” he murmured. “Sand has a tendency to get stuck in the most unfortunate places.”

 

Mulder was woken in the middle of the night by his Master’s finger entering between his ass cheeks. He opened his eyes blearily, and looked around. The room was in darkness, but his Master was clearly wide awake.

 

“Keep still, boy. I woke up and saw you lying here, in the light of the moon, and decided I wanted to use you. Hold still.” Mulder gave a squawk of surprise as he felt his Master’s hard cock push home, up to the hilt, in one fast thrust. He was still half awake, and his body wasn’t sure what the hell was going on. Skinner clearly wasn’t half awake though. He thrust energetically into his slave, using him hard and riding him for what felt like hours. Finally, his Master came with a shuddering sigh of pleasure, released his slave, and them pushed him out of the bed.
”Go and wash yourself, and then clean me up,” he ordered. As Mulder walked to the bathroom he was aware that his own neglected cock was sticking out in front of his body. His Master have never before woken and needed to use him with such urgency. He liked the feeling. He returned to bed, and Skinner reached for him, and held him lazily, ignoring his slave’s hard, weeping cock, and they were soon asleep again.

 

Mulder woke again a few hours later, to find his Master’s fingers once more pressing into his ass.

 

“Did you wish to use me again, Master?” he whispered, opening his legs slightly to facilitate Skinner’s finger, which thrust easily home.

 

“No, boy. I merely wished to remind you that you’re available to be used,” Skinner murmured. “I’m not in the mood to use you, but in order to keep in mind that you’re available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, I’m going to plug you.” He withdrew his finger, and turned on the light, and Mulder blinked, surprised by the night’s activities. He had worn a butt plug several times all through the night, but he had never been woken half way through for an insertion. His eyes opened wide, suddenly very much awake when he saw the thick, solid, pointed, plastic object his Master intended to insert into him.

 

“M…Master?” he questioned. Unlike the monster dildo his Master had made him take a few days ago, this butt plug was pointed at one end, but thickened out into an almost impossible width before narrowing and then flaring at the base.

 

“Fox, my fist is this size.” Skinner made a fist next to the butt plug, and Mulder could see the appreciable difference in size. “I will ensure that you’re adequately prepared – and a little night time discomfort won’t do you any harm. I’d like my slave to keep in mind that even when his Master is not using him, it still pleases him to keep his slave stretched, and his ass filled.”

 

”Yes, Master.” Mulder swallowed, and watched as Skinner covered the butt plug in lube, and then rolled his slave onto his stomach, and placed a pillow under his groin.

 

”Spread your legs…that’s good,” Skinner said in a soft tone, and a second later Mulder felt the tip of the butt plug press against his opening. Skinner worked it in until Mulder didn’t think he could take the impossible width, and then Skinner slid it out again. “Allow the muscles to relax…that’s good.” Skinner pushed the plug in again, and Mulder moaned, and held on tight to his pillow, arching his back. A sharp slap landed on his buttocks. “Stop that. I told you to relax the muscles. I’ll ease it in gently, but it will go in,” Skinner warned. Mulder closed his eyes, and concentrated on relaxing every single muscle in his body. Skinner pressed the butt plug in again, for the third time, and this time he slid it right up to its widest point, and held it there, keeping Mulder’s ass muscles open.

 

“Oh shit,” Mulder whispered, biting down on the pillow. It was stretching him more than he’d ever been stretched before, and it hurt.

 

“I can take it out and try a fourth time, or I can push all the way in now. Which do you want?” Skinner asked, stroking his slave’s buttocks to calm him.

 

“Do it now,” Mulder hissed, and a second later he felt a wave of pain, as the plug was rammed home. “Oh god, take it out, take it out, hurts…” he begged, reaching to try and pull the thing out himself, but Skinner stopped him by grabbing his wrists and attaching a cuff to each one, before fastening them together behind Mulder’s back, well out of reach of the butt plug. Then he lay down in the bed beside his slave, and took him in his arms.

 

”Ride it out. It doesn’t last,” Skinner said soothingly, and Mulder tried hard to stay still, as the pain washed through him and then, just as Skinner had said it would, gently receded, leaving him feeling comfortably full.

 

“Thank you, Master,” he whispered into Skinner’s chest. His Master chuckled, and cupped his slave’s buttocks, kneading them thoroughly.

 

“For what?” He asked.

 

“For making me take it,” Mulder said.

 

“I know exactly what you can take, boy, even when you don’t know it yourself,” Skinner said softly. He lifted Mulder’s chin and brushed a tear from his slave’s cheek where his eyes had watered at the insertion. “How does it feel now?”

 

”Good…warm, and full,” Mulder said.

 

”You’ll wear it for the rest of the night. You’ll find that the ache returns by morning – the muscles grow tired of being stretched and want to return to their natural state – they can’t,” Skinner said. “I want you to surf the pain and discomfort. You can sleep in bondage as well. I don’t want you removing anything when I’m not looking.”

 

”Yes, Master.” Mulder snuggled against his Master, and closed his eyes again. His cock was rock hard. Despite the unexpected nature of the intrusion into his ass, he was turned on by his Master’s total control over his body. He liked that Skinner had woken him for no other reason than to remind him that he was owned, and he loved being made to sleep with his hands tied behind his back. It was just before dawn when he was woken again, this time by a sharp pain in his right nipple.

 

“Oh shit…” He half sat up, and lost his balance and fell back as he realized his hands were still tied. Looking down, he saw a clamp firmly attached to his nipple. It wasn’t a particularly fierce one, but it sure as hell felt bad when attached first thing in the morning to a sleeping slave boy.

 

“Lie down. I’m not finished yet,” Skinner told him.

 

“Why…oh god…” His nipple hurt so much but his bound arms prevented him being able to remove the source of the torment. “Shit…” he moaned, moving his legs frantically as he tried to become accustomed to the sensation in his nipple. Skinner held his slave down, Mulder’s back against his chest, and then he started to fondle Mulder’s left nipple with his fingers, playing with the nipple ring until the nipple was hard, and ready. Mulder could have cursed the treacherous nub of flesh. “Please…not that one too…” he moaned, pressing back against his Master’s chest.

 

“Please…”

 

”Hush. I want you to remember who you belong to at all times,” Skinner said. Mulder closed his eyes, and felt his Master’s fingers brush against his left nipple, and then the clip was attached. He gave a cry, and jackknifed against Skinner’s chest. His Master held him tight, stroking him up and down his body, murmuring to him. “Ride out the pain, little one. Good boy,” Skinner said softly, caressing his slave tenderly. Mulder felt a wave of sweat break out as he grew accustomed to the pain in his nipples. “There,” Skinner soothed when Mulder finally relaxed into the warmth of his Master’s arms. Skinner wrapped his slave up, and held him tight, nuzzling his neck. “Back to sleep little one. I just wanted to remind you what you are, and who you belong to,” he whispered.

 

“I hadn’t forgotten,” Mulder retorted, and was treated to a pinch on his backside.

 

“A little reminder doesn’t go amiss,” Skinner said, his voice low, and completely masterful. Mulder’s cock immediately became rigid with need, but, with his hands bound behind his back, he couldn’t even touch it. “You’ll wear the clamps until we get up. Just a couple of hours and they’re not so savage that they’ll cause any harm,” Skinner said softly, tweaking one of them, and making Mulder wince, and yelp. “Be careful how you sleep, boy. If either of them have been dislodged when we get up then there will be ten hard strokes with the paddle.”

 

“Yes, Master.” Mulder said meekly. He had been considering trying to rub them against the mattress and dislodge them, but that clearly was no longer an option. Instead, he relaxed onto his side, and enjoyed his Master’s stroking.

 

“I want you to focus on what I’ve done to you tonight, and think about why,” Skinner said softly. Mulder closed his eyes. Skinner was right. His ass was starting to ache from the large intrusion. His nipples were a counterpoint to the throbbing discomfort in his ass, and both melded into a pleasurable miasma of being owned, claimed, trussed, plugged and clamped. It was a good ache. Finally his Master fell asleep again but Mulder lay awake, enjoying the feeling of his Master’s hand on his thigh, his Master’s clamps on his nipples, his Master’s plug up his ass, his Master’s ring on his cock…He was a slave to the core of his soul, but a slave to one man only. He knew he could never belong to anyone else. He could never give himself to anyone else. His slavery was conditional upon his Master and while with other men he would continue to be as difficult, bloody minded, and smart assed as he had ever been, with Skinner he would be servile, docile, and tamed. It was a relief to know it, and give into it, and to be what in his heart he wanted to be. He had never before met anyone who could take him on this journey, and, more to the point, whom he could trust to walk beside him every step of the way, as Skinner had. Mulder knew that he was happier than he’d ever been in his life.

 

Mulder was woken in the morning by a sensation of appalling pain in his nipples. He realized immediately that the source of the pain was the fact that his clamps had been removed, and glanced up to see his Master sitting beside him on the bed.

 

“Morning, slave. Did you sleep well?” Skinner asked, with a wide, knowing grin.

 

“Perfectly, Master,” Mulder replied, without any trace of sarcasm.

 

”Good. Lie on your front and hold still. I want to remove your plug.”

 

Skinner grasped the plug, and moved it slowly, and Mulder gasped as the large middle part slid out, stretching his overworked muscles. Then it was gone, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

 

“Don’t be too relieved,” Skinner said. “I’ll be using something bigger on you later during your bondage session.”

 

”Bigger than that?” Mulder was aghast.

 

“I’m preparing you for your fisting, sweetheart. It’s necessary,” Skinner said, bestowing a kiss on Mulder’s forehead, and then undoing his slave’s wrist cuffs.

 

“When will you fist me, Master?” Mulder whispered, scared. Taking that butt plug had been hard, but taking his Master’s fist seemed unimaginable. He picked up his Master’s hand, made it into a fist, and looked at it thoughtfully. Shit – it was enormous.

 

“On Thursday. Take it well, and on Saturday you’ll have that treat I promised,” Skinner said.

 

”Master, do you think I’ll be able to take it?” Mulder traced his finger over Skinner’s hand, worried that he’d let his Master down.

 

“Of course. I’ll make sure of that. Fox, before I brand you, or tattoo you, or render you any more mine than you already are, I think we need to push the boundaries of your trust, and the limits of your body to make sure you’re ready for such big steps. Your fisting will be an intimate moment – a special ceremony between you and me. Do you remember your piercing?”

 

Mulder nodded – how could he forget? His Master had laid on the most perfect scene for the occasion.

 

”Well, this will be similar. Perfect trust between Master and slave. We’ll be bonded as we never have been before. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t think you were ready.” Skinner smiled, and kissed his slave on the lips, a deep, reassuring kiss. “You’ll do fine, boy. Just show the aptitude and courage you’ve already shown.

 

“I’ll try, Master,” Mulder promised.

 

“And I’ll help you,” Skinner promised in return.

 

For his next bondage session, later that day, Mulder was placed on a mat in the dungeon, on his knees, and tied in the most humiliating way imaginable. His legs were drawn up under his chest, and he was tied around torso and legs, leaving his ass open and exposed. Again, he found he couldn’t move, and he had to keep quite still in order to breathe comfortably, his nose inches from the floor. Sometimes he rested his chin on the floor in order to relax, but mainly he was just aware of his asshole, wide, and open, for whatever his Master intended to do with it. Unlike other occasions, this time Skinner didn’t leave Mulder alone. Instead, he played with his ass. At first he just fingered his slave, wetting his finger, and running it around the rim of his slave’s ass, pushing it in and out, and playing with Mulder’s hole in a way that would have been more pleasurable if Mulder hadn’t been trussed up, and unable to move. Then Skinner’s one finger became two, and then three…and then four. Mulder held his breath, wondering if his Master intended to fish him here and now, but while Skinner wriggled his fingers around, he didn’t do any more than that, and soon withdrew his fingers and replaced them with something else. Mulder gave a start, followed by a deep sigh of contentment, as he felt his Master’s tongue on his exposed asshole. This felt good. Despite being tied, ass up, face down, in this humiliating position, his Master’s tongue took away all his embarrassment, and he relaxed, and rested his chin on the ground once more. As soon as his muscles were loose like this, it was so much easier to just enjoy the sensations in his body, and he started to drift away. The ropes bound him in position and when he relaxed against them they held him up, and that felt so good. The rimming stopped, and glancing around he noticed that his Master had a large dildo in his hand – larger even than the plug he’d worn the previous night. He gave a little whimper.

 

“This isn’t a butt plug, it’s a dildo. That means you’ll have to work hard to keep it in place. I’m going to insert it and I want you to grip it. If it comes out before I return then you’ll be punished,” Skinner said softly. Mulder nodded. Skinner gently worked his slave’s ass open again, and nudged the tip of the dildo inside. It was a good size, and at first Mulder experienced that same ache he’d felt last night, and then, suddenly, the dildo slid home far more easily than he’d expected. It even felt good inside him. Skinner patted his exposed buttocks lightly, and he heard his Master stand up.

 

“Keep it in place, slave. I’ve marked the outside where it’s visible – if you allow it to come out even by a fraction, then you’ll be punished,” he warned.

 

“Yes, Master.” Mulder was aroused both by the position, and the challenge. He concentrated on keeping that dildo in place, clasping it tightly between his clenched butt cheeks, but as the minutes ticked by, he wasn’t sure he could hold on any longer. He knew that if he didn’t concentrate, the natural motion of his muscles against the intruder would easily expel it, but it was large, and slippery, and he was growing tired. His eyes felt heavy after his interrupted night and he was right at the end of his endurance when he felt his Master return.

 

“Good boy.” Skinner removed the dildo, much to his slave’s relief, and untied Mulder. He gave his slave a swift massage, loosening the crimps the tight bondage had placed in his muscles, and then pulled him to his feet, and kissed him thoroughly. “You are so good – I love how responsive you are, how obedient, and willing,” he whispered, holding his slave tight, and petting him all over. Mulder glowed from the praise.

 

“I love you, Master,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve mentioned that today.” He grinned brightly.

 

”No, slave, but it’s always nice hearing it. I love you too.” Skinner kissed his slave thoroughly to illustrate the point.

 

By the time Wednesday arrived, Mulder thought he might be ready for the next day’s fisting – physically at least. Mentally, he wasn’t so sure. He was put through his paces and responded perfectly, but by the time evening fell, he started to get fidgety, until he was completely unable to stay still.

 

“Master, permission to go for a walk,” he requested as they sat in companionable silence, worn out by the day’s activities. Skinner was reading a book, and Mulder had one open, but he couldn’t concentrate on the words. All he could do was think of his Master’s fist inside his body, and it aroused him and gave him cold sweats at one and the same time. Skinner looked up, his expression concerned.

 

“Are you all right, boy?” He asked.

 

“Yes…just restless,” Mulder replied.

 

“Is this about tomorrow?”

 

“Yes. It’s all I can think about. I need to run,” Mulder said, getting up. “Please, Master. Can I run?” he asked. Skinner thought about it for a moment, and then nodded.

 

“You can go to the town. Keep to the path – and run there, and straight back. Don’t stop anywhere, and don’t run anywhere else,” he said. Mulder nodded, got to his feet eagerly and went to change.

 

It felt good being out on the open road, with the wind in his hair. The moon as large and bright over head and he was soon running fast enough to get all the restless energy out of his limbs. He reached the town, and briefly considered stopping at the bar for a drink, but decided that he didn’t want to risk his Master’s wrath by doing that, so he turned and started to run back. He was half way back to the house when he heard a sound of a motorbike ahead. He stopped, transfixed, as a magnificent black Harley came around the corner. Seated upon it was a tall, black leather clad stranger in a crash helmet. The motorcyclist swerved across the empty road, and pulled up beside Mulder who gazed longingly at the gleaming black bike, and he was human enough to spare a glance at is equally magnificent rider, in tight black leathers.

 

“Want a ride?” the stranger asked, and that was when Mulder recognized his Master’s voice. He did a double take. Skinner looked fantastic, but completely different in his biker clothes.

 

“This is yours? Where did you…?”

 

”You look tired, as if you need a lift,” Skinner said in a hard, low voice. Mulder realized he was playing a part – and it was a hot one at that. He was pretending to be a stranger, out cruising. “I saw you jogging. You look good. I like the way you run.” Skinner reached out and touched Mulder’s thigh. “I could take you for a ride.”

 

Skinner handed a dumbstruck Mulder a helmet, and Mulder took it. My god, he had wanted a distraction, and what a distraction this was.

 

“Where will you take me?” He asked. “I’m not used to being picked up by strange men.” He grinned leeringly.

 

“Oh, I’m very strange,” Skinner promised, grinning back. “And as for where I take you – will somewhere hot do?”

 

”Sounds good to me,” Mulder said, going to climb on behind the other man – his dark, mysterious stranger, on the beautiful, gleaming, sexy black Harley.

 

”Not there. When I said I want to take you for a ride, I meant it,” Skinner said with a wry laugh. “Get on in front.”

 

Mulder looked questioningly at the other man. The isolated country road was completely deserted, and Skinner opened his leather trousers, and drew out his cock. He stroked it into hardness, and then beckoned Mulder astride the bike. “Climb aboard,” Skinner said, and Mulder grinned, and placed one leg over the bike. “Hold on,” Skinner said, and, taking out a small pocket knife, he cut a hole in Mulder’s shorts, pushed aside his jock strap, and gently prized his slave’s ass open, before arranging Mulder on his hard cock. Mulder slid down easily, until his Master’s cock was lodged firmly in his ass, and then Skinner placed his arms around his impaled slave, put his hands on the handlebars, and, looking over Mulder’s shoulder, steered his bike along the road. There was nobody to see them, but even if there had been, nothing seemed to be amiss, except for the fact that the two men appeared to be sitting very close together. They only travelled a couple of miles like that, before Skinner swung the bike off onto a side road, and into the woods, following a rough track. Mulder held on for dear life as they jolted along that track, his Master’s cock still embedded firmly in his slave’s ass, bouncing him up and down. It was exciting for both of them – Mulder’s own cock hardened as his prostate was stimulated unbearably by his Master’s hard penis. He threw back his head and gazed at the stars, placing his hands back, around his Master’s waist, and stroking what part of the other man’s toned buttocks he could reach through his tight leather trousers.

 

“Oh god this is good,” he breathed, sliding up and down on that cock.

 

“I thought you’d like it,” Skinner said. He drew up and removed his helmet, and took Mulder’s off as well. “We’re off road now. We’ll go slowly, and enjoy ourselves. We’re on Murray’s property so we won’t come across anyone.” He stored the helmets away, encircled Mulder in his leather clad arms once more, and began riding both his slave and his Harley hard. They meandered slowly down to the beach on the bike. Mulder had never felt more alive in his life.

 

“This is fantastic!” He yelled. “The wind in my hair, my Master’s cock up my ass, and a purring, throbbing, powerful machine between my legs – the bike isn’t bad either,” he joked, and Skinner snorted, and kissed his slave’s neck, giving Mulder the shivers. “Has this bike been in the garage all this time and you never mentioned it?” Mulder accused his Master over his shoulder.

 

“Master’s prerogative. I thought I’d save it for the right occasion, and this is definitely it. You needed a distraction,” Skinner said, kissing his slave’s neck again. “Distracted?” He asked.

 

“Oh yeah!” Mulder grinned. He moved his hips a few times, and clenched his muscles around his Master’s cock, making Skinner grunt with pleasure. His Master rode the bike along the moonlit beach, and Mulder didn’t think he’d ever had such a horny experience in his life. The Harley was so beautiful, and the smell of his Master’s leathers was almost as intoxicating as the feel of his pulsating cock in his ass. Skinner stopped the bike at the end of the beach, and they sat, silently, gazing out at the sea, with the moon rippling across the water, and the lights from the bobbing boats in the opposite bay.

 

“Does it get any better than this?” Mulder breathed, still aware of his Master’s warm, hard cock inside him.

 

“Oh yes. It does,” Skinner said. “Wait and see.” He pushed Mulder forward, guided his slave’s hands to the handlebars, and placed his own gloved hand around the other man’s cock. He then proceeded to fuck him, slowly, and thoroughly, pumping Mulder’s shaft in time to his rhythmic thrusts deep into his slave’s body. Mulder threw back his head, tasting salt water on his lips, and the smell of leather in his nostrils. His knees gripped the leather seat of the Harley, and he felt as if he were floating in the most delicious fantasy of all time. Skinner, the Harley, that cock in his ass, the taste of the sea, the beauty of the moonlight, the scent of leather, his Master’s warm, gloved hand pumping his cock…it all merged into one incredible scene that he truly wanted to last forever, and he knew that if he died at this precise moment in time, he would die happy – and said at much to his Master.

 

“What the hell are you going to die of?” Skinner grunted, as he smoothly impaled his slave back and forth on his cock, kissing his neck with each forward stroke.

 

“A heart attack? Sheer bliss? Over-stimulation of the prostate?” Mulder suggested, panting with need as his cock thrust into that hard, black-gloved hand.

 

“Not without my damn permission!” Skinner snorted.

 

“Well, maybe I’ll get hit by an asteroid!” Mulder yelled over his shoulder, glancing up at the myriad of stars in the sky, and wondering if one of them would fall on him at this moment of extreme bliss.

 

“I state again – not without my goddamn permission!” Skinner growled.

 

“Ah, my Master can even stop the stars in their courses,” Mulder misquoted cheerfully. “He can command asteroids not to fall, and the sea not to wash up on the shore, like Canute.”

 

”What is this new habit of talking during sex?” Skinner asked, squeezing Mulder’s cock.

 

“You inspire me to words, Master!” Mulder yelled expansively, sweat pouring down his face as their congress reached a climax.

 

“I know a few words myself – ones guaranteed to shut you up,” Skinner remarked.

 

“Oh yeah?” Mulder challenged, his ass milking his Master’s cock for all it was worth as his own cock spas med with need.

 

“Yeah – the words are: you can come,” Skinner said, in a tone that was unnecessarily smug Mulder thought – although it was the last coherent thought he had for several minutes as he obeyed his Master’s command, and came, and came, and came all over the bike, and all over his Master’s gloved hand, and he felt Skinner push inside him two, three more times and then his Master was shuddering to his own climax. They both collapsed, Mulder leaning over the handlebars, and Skinner leaning over Mulder, covering his lean, slender frame, with his large, leather clad body.

 

“Looks like you failed…” Mulder muttered weakly.

 

“Explain,” Skinner said, in a muffled tone, his face buried in Mulder’s neck.

 

“I just died. Now I’m in heaven,” Mulder said, and Skinner just chuckled, and allowed Mulder the last word for once.

 

They stayed that way for what seemed like hours before Mulder started to shiver, and realized that he was cold. Skinner took off his jacket, to reveal a plain black tee shirt that showed off his rippling muscles to perfection, and placed it around his slave’s shoulders, then he started the bike again and rode it up the beach towards the house, his now softened cock still firmly embedded in his slave’s ass. They disengaged and put the bike away in the garage.

 

“You can clean it up tomorrow,” Skinner said, patting the black leather seat fondly.

 

“It’s beautiful,” Mulder said, staring at it dreamily. “We’re going to do that again before we leave, right?”

 

”Oh, there are plenty of other things to do before we leave,” Skinner chuckled in an ominous tone.

 

Mulder woke next day to find the inside of his stomach crawling with what felt like a nest of spiders. He placed himself in voluntary deep submission, because he was sure it was the only way he’d get through the day. He gave his Master his wake up call, and then waited beside the bed, eyes down, trying to remain calm. Skinner directed him in a number of menial chores, which helped; Skinner had told him that they would build up to the fisting later in the evening, but as the afternoon wore on, Mulder found it more and more impossible to remain still. Finally, Skinner tied him firmly beside his beach chair, in an easy position, lying out straight, but so tightly bound that it was impossible to fidget. He kept his slave that way for almost two hours, before releasing him, and fastening a leash to his slave’s nipple rings.

 

”All right, Fox,” he said softly, looking into his slave’s eyes. “You’re in deep submission by my command now. You’ll obey everything I say, immediately and without question. Go and clean the bike, and then prepare the hot tub.” 

 

Mulder did as ordered, lingering over the bike, lovingly polishing it back to a full shine. Then, slowly, dragging his feet, he went outside to the hot tub. It was fully dark by the time he was done, and he kneeled beside the hot tub and waited for his Master, eyes down, knees wide apart. Skinner hadn’t used him since last night, and the morning’s spanking had been light, and gentle, and entirely pleasurable for both of them. Skinner came out, and got into the hot tub, and then ordered his slave in beside him. The water was warm, and the sky was as clear as it had been the previous night. Stars were already visible. Mulder loved the warm water on his naked body, and submitted to being pulled over his Master’s knee, and played with. Skinner went slowly, opening his slave’s buttocks, playing with his ass, and kissing his body. He sucked on Mulder’s nipples, and kissed his lips so many times that Mulder felt himself entering a dream state. This was so good.

 

“Could we do this all night, Master?” He suggested.

 

“It’s tempting, but we have other plans,” Skinner whispered, pushing two fingers gently into his slave, and moving them around. Mulder sighed, and placed both his arms around his Master’s neck in order to keep upright. Skinner played with his slave for over an hour, fondling, stroking and caressing him. There was no pain, just warmth and comfort.  

 

Finally, Skinner got up, and led his naked slave out of the hot tub, and up the stairs to the medieval bedroom, which they’d never used before. The lights were down low, and the bed was covered with towels. Skinner ordered his slave to lie face down on them, and Mulder obeyed, and watched as his Master prepared the enema. He had never been given one of these by his Master, and he didn’t know what to expect. Skinner gently inserted the nozzle into his slave’s rectum, and he felt the warm water flood into him. The cramps came a few moments later, and Skinner ordered him to the bathroom. “Make sure you’re clean before you return – use the shower if need be,” he instructed his slave, and Mulder nodded, and did as he had been told. He was surprised, and even a little embarrassed when his Master followed him in, but Skinner took little notice of his slave, and concentrated instead on washing his arms and hands thoroughly over and over again, before clipping his nails. Mulder watched these preparations with some trepidation. Skinner finished before he did, smiled at his slave, and returned to the bedroom.  

 

Mulder knew that he was as scrupulously clean as his Master by the time he returned. Skinner was sitting on the bed, thoroughly lathering his right arm and hand with lube, making it glisten in the dimly lit room.

 

“Come back here and lie down, sweetheart,” Skinner said in a gentle, tender voice. Mulder did as he had been told, trembling despite the warmth of the room. ”Hush.” Skinner stroked his slave’s body gently, and Mulder tried his best to relax. Skinner played with him for a well over an hour, massaging his buttocks, gently stroking his cock, and kissing him everywhere, including his lips, until finally, Mulder started to let go, and give in. That was when Skinner placed a pillow under the towels, and arranged his slave on top of it, on his back, his buttocks hanging in the small bit of space where the pillow stopped, giving his Master room to work, his genitals sticking up in the air. “Legs wide apart, sweetheart…that’s right. I want access to your cock as well as your ass.” His Master’s hands kneaded his buttocks, and Mulder leaned his head back on his arms, bolstered up by numerous pillows. He felt totally relaxed, and at ease, apart from the lingering nervous anticipation.

 

“Do you know what I’m going to do to you tonight?” Skinner asked, continuing with his stroking, and massage, dropping a series of loving kisses on his slave’s body at regular intervals.

 

“Yes, Master,” Mulder muttered into his arms. “You’re going to fist me.”

 

”Do you know why?” Skinner asked. Mulder thought about it.

 

”No, Master,” he whispered.

 

“To show you who has complete mastery over your body, slave. Not so long ago you ran away from me, and got into trouble. This isn’t a punishment – but I hope by means of this act to prove to you once and for all, that you belong to me. I won’t tolerate you running away again,” Skinner said in a low, forceful tone. Mulder shivered. The scene was starting to get hot. His Master was saying all the right things. Skinner ran a light finger over Mulder’s nipples, gently exploring the hardening nubs of flesh. “You have to be brought back down to basics, slave, and, trust me, there is nothing more basic than feeling your Master’s hard fist inside you. You’ll learn a lot about yourself in the next couple of hours, Fox. You’ll learn that you have to trust your Master in order to survive, and you’ll learn that there’s no part of your body your Master doesn’t own, and command, and no part of yourself that you can withhold from him. With this one act, we’ll reaffirm those contracts we made. You will surrender yourself to me, and I will take from you any last illusion of your independence. I’ll hold you literally in the palm of my hand. I want you to be still, and obedient, and open throughout, as we make a new bond between us. I’m not going to tie you, because you must submit, and endure of your own volition, to show your Master you deserve your collar back, and with it the rights you had before. All right, little one?” He pressed his lips against Mulder’s mouth, and Mulder nodded, and opened his mouth gratefully to receive his Master’s tongue.

 

“Now, you’ll experience a great many new sensations as I do this. You might find it a little painful, but if you surf the pain, you’ll also find it pleasurable as well. If you feel any particularly sharp pain, tell me. You must be completely honest with me. I won’t cause you any injury. You’re my slave – my treasured possession.” Skinner illustrated this by bestowing another loving kiss on his slave’s lips, and then he drew back.

 

“All right, prepare yourself to receive your Master, slave,” he ordered. Mulder lay back on his pillows, and sank into them. He watched as Skinner put on a latex glove, and covered it with more lubricant, and then he closed his eyes, and waited. He felt Skinner push one slippery finger into his ass. One was easy. He barely noticed it. A second finger was worked in, and then a third. Skinner stroked, and rubbed, and stretched his slave’s body and Mulder opened up, writhing as his Master unerringly found his prostate. To Mulder’s surprise, Skinner didn’t do any more than that. In fact, he played with Mulder’s asshole for a long time, stretching, playing, relaxing his slave until Mulder was floating on a haze of bliss.

 

“All right, lift your hips a little. I’m going to put my whole hand in,” Skinner said softly when his slave was fully relaxed. “Breathe, boy,” Skinner ordered, and Mulder took a deep breath. He opened his eyes, and glanced down to see his Master insert his whole hand in his waiting hole. At first it wasn’t so bad, but when the widest part of the hand was pushed in, his breath hitched, and he glanced at his Master for reassurance. Skinner smiled, and stroked his slave’s thigh. “Relax. You can take this much. Relax,” Skinner whispered. Mulder nodded, and swallowed, and the next minute Skinner pushed until he was in up to his wrist.

 

“Oh god!” Mulder breathed.

 

“Hush…that’s fine…you’re doing well.”

 

“Hurts…please…shit…” Mulder hissed.

 

“Give it a minute,” Skinner said. “Trust me.” Skinner caressed his slave again with his free hand. Mulder could feel the bones of his Master’s wrist where his ass was clamped around them. It did hurt…but as he grew used to it, he began to enjoy the sensation, and he found he no longer wanted his Master to remove his hand. Skinner waited until Mulder had calmed down, and Mulder slowly became used to the large intrusion. “All right – now the fun part,” Skinner smiled. “I won’t make you take much more depth, but I’m going to make you take the width as I ball my hand into a fist. Remember, boy, that you are a slave, and that you belong to your Master. Don’t move so much as a muscle. I want you to just relax, and take my fist, and through the process come to fully understand what you are.”

 

”Yes, Master,” Mulder whispered, barely able to breathe. He felt Skinner’s hand move inside him, and then the fingers closed slowly, oh so slowly. He could  feel every single inch as his Master made a fist inside him, widening the walls of his rectum, and stretching him internally more than he would have thought possible. It was a curious sensation. He felt so …full. Full of his Master. It was a good feeling, but strange. Skinner was talking to him but Mulder wasn’t aware of anything except that fist inside his body, claiming him, reminding him that he was this man’s slave, and subject to his whim, and will. His cock was now rock hard, and he was lying back, staring at the mirrored ceiling above. He could see his Master’s wrist inserted in his own ass, and that was when he realized why Skinner had chosen this room.

 

”That’s right,” Skinner said, as if reading his mind. “I want you to watch yourself being fisted, boy. I want you to see the process…I want you to keep that image seared on your memory as proof of your Master’s total control over your body. You belong to me, boy.”

 

”Yes…Master,” Mulder panted.

 

”All right, I’m going to move…hold still.” Skinner slid his hand in a little way, making a smooth, controlled, and very slow punching motion and Mulder gave a hoarse shout.

 

“Good?” Skinner asked.

 

“Not sure…yes…no…yes!” Mulder cried.

 

”Again,” Skinner insisted, as he moved his wrist back and then punched gently again. 

 

Mulder moaned. Yes it was good, yes it hurt, but the image of himself, lying on his back, naked, ringed, and utterly submissive, his Master’s fist inside him, went straight to his cock. Skinner took hold of the rigid member and ran his glistening, lubricated spare hand over it, in a motion that made Mulder moan and unconsciously grip his Master’s wrist tighter. Skinner made a slight sound, so Mulder guessed that might have hurt. “You are my beautiful slave. Worthy of my love, and my attention,” Skinner whispered. Mulder felt as if time had frozen. There was just him, and his Master, and his Master’s hand deep inside his body. He could feel his Master’s pulse in his wrist, beating in time with his own heart and it felt good. He could feel every single movement Skinner made with his hand, even down to the tiniest clench or ripple of muscle. He had never felt so completely owned in his life before, and what aroused him most was knowing he had offered himself up to this, given himself completely to this man, without reservation, and that he now belonged somewhere as he had never belonged before – his Master’s balled fist inside him was proof of that. He closed his eyes, and abandoned himself to the sensation; his Master moved his fist in time to the pumps he gave his slave’s hard cock, and it was an intoxicating rhythm. He wanted more, he wanted it harder, and faster, but Skinner was going slowly, firmly, inexorably, and it hurt, and was good, and blew Mulder’s mind at one and the same time. He knew his Master intended him to come, and wouldn’t stop until he did, but he wanted to prolong the intimacy of the moment as well. For Skinner was right – it was intimate. It was also very loving. As his Master sat there, bringing him to the brink of this sublime pleasure, their eyes met, and Mulder found he could not look away. Skinner didn’t break eye contact as he kept on and on stroking, and punching and pumping, and they were linked that way for an eternity. Mulder felt as if the moment had almost mystical, or spiritual significance, as if there were a real, tangible thread linking him to his Master. He was drowning in his Master’s dark brown eyes, could see himself reflected back in them, and his whole existence came down to this moment, and this feeling of connection with his Master. Skinner moved his hand again, brushed Mulder’s prostate, and slid his other hand along Mulder’s cock, and Mulder knew that he was on the brink.

 

“I’m going to come, Master,” he panted, and Skinner smiled, and nodded.

 

“Any time you want,” he said, and a few seconds later Mulder gave in to the intensity of the sensations he was experiencing and orgasmed. He was aware of his ass contracting over and over again around his Master’s wrist at the same time as he came, and he felt so good that he came again, and again. Finally, he lay back on the bed, completely exhausted and unable to move. “All right, little one. This can hurt a little so I’m going to go very slowly,” Skinner murmured. He pulled back his wrist gently, opened his fist, and slid his hand carefully out of his slave’s ass. Mulder was too far gone to even notice. He just lay there, watching the procedure on the mirrored ceiling with almost clinical detachment. He felt as if he had stepped outside time, and no longer belonged to the world. He was dimly aware that his Master was cleaning him up, and washing himself, and then Skinner was removing the towels from the bed, before tucking his slave beneath the sheets, and getting in beside him. He pulled Mulder close, for which the slave was grateful – he didn’t have the energy to move anywhere himself. His ass felt incredibly stretched, and that worried him.

 

“Master…will I be able to give you enough pleasure when you use me if I’m this open?” He asked. Skinner smiled.

 

“There are a lot of myths about fisting. Your muscles will spring back – they’ve just been exercised. So, little one – was that good?”

 

”Yes, Master.” There was silence for a moment. “Master…” Mulder lifted his head a fraction to gaze up at the other man. “I trust you with my life,” he said softly.

 

“I know.” Skinner stroked his slave’s body.

 

”Will you brand me? Please?” Mulder asked, holding on tight to his Master’s body. He felt suddenly vulnerable, and needy. Whereas in the past he would have reacted defensively to those emotions, and mouthed off at whoever was closest, now he just accepted them, and took the comfort he needed from his Master’s solid flesh.

 

“Soon.” Skinner kissed his slave’s head.

 

“Very soon? I can’t stand having his mark on my body and not yours, Master,” Mulder said, suddenly able to talk on the subject that was hardest for him. The intimacy he had just experienced with his Master brooked no silences or secrets.

 

“Your scar still bothers you that much?” Skinner stroked his slave’s scar gently.

 

”It always will. I feel better than I did, but it’s always there,” Mulder said honestly.

 

“Very well. I’ll deal with that. Trust me, Fox.”

 

“Always, Master. You will brand me then?” Mulder asked.

 

“Of course. You’re mine. A slave should bear his Master’s brand.” Skinner kissed his slave again.

 

“I want it now, but when it happens…I’ll be afraid.”

 

“I know. It’ll hurt – more than anything you’ve ever experienced.” Skinner’s arms tightened around his slave’s body. “I’ll be there though. Throughout. You’ll survive, and you’ll love it when it’s done. We’ll get you through the last minute nerves, even if you invent UFO cases in Antarctica the day before in order to try and get out of it.”

 

“You know me far too well, Master.” Mulder lay his face down on his Master’s chest, and played, idly, with one of his Master’s nipples.

 

“Oh yes. I do, Fox. I do,” Skinner whispered.

 

 

 

Mulder was very subdued the next day. He needed to be at his Master’s side the whole time, and couldn’t bear for the other man to be out of his sight for a second, even following his Master into the bathroom. Skinner seemed to understand that this was necessary, and while there was no sexual contact between them all day, he spent a good deal of time cuddling, and petting his slave, and generally reassuring him. Mulder felt as if he were in a dream. The fisting had profoundly affected him, and he felt closer to his Master than he had ever been. More than that, he was able to talk honestly, and easily, without embarrassment, about even those subjects he felt most ashamed of.

 

“I know I do things that piss people off,” he told Skinner, as he sat between the big man’s legs, both of them sprawled on a blanket on the beach, in the shade of a large sun umbrella. “I’m sure Scully thinks I’m a case of arrested development – that I’m still 12 years old inside. I feel guilty for the way I’ve treated her sometimes. I decided a long time ago that I couldn’t care what people thought. I learned that at school after Sam was taken. Kids are cruel – and Sam’s abduction made me different. I put up some defenses then that I never took down again, even with Scully – even with you to start with. I had to be independent, and strong, for Mom’s sake – and for my own. Inside, I sometimes longed to be weak, to give in…but I fought it. I couldn’t let anyone see the weakness.”

 

”I do understand that.” Skinner nudged his slave’s neck with his lips. “In some ways I had similar issues. You’re more explosive – when you can’t handle what’s going on inside, you lash out, and run off, and try and take on the world single-handedly in order to outdistance your demons. I went the other way. I internalized, and would go very quiet, and brooded. For what it’s worth, I think Scully has the utmost respect for you. She cares about you.”

 

”I care about her. In a different lifetime we would have been lovers, but it couldn’t have happened here, not with what I’m carrying around inside. I think you’re the only one who could deal with that, Master.”

 

”When you go back to work – will you carry any of this increased self awareness with you?” Skinner asked gently. “It’s not to late to behave differently with Scully.”

 

”I know. I feel as if I can now. When you’re not happy, when you need to keep defenses against even those closest to you…it can make you behave like a bastard at times. When you’re happy…when you’re at peace with yourself…” He trailed off, glanced up at his Master, and smiled. “Well, it’s easier,” he said.

 

“Yes. It is.” Skinner stroked his slave fondly.

 

“I promise that I’m going to try to toe the line more at work and not be such a pain in the ass. I’ll be the best agent you’ve ever had,” Mulder proclaimed.

 

Skinner laughed. ”You already are, idiot,” he exclaimed. “I trust you’ll also continue to be single minded, occasionally obnoxious, undiplomatic, and brilliantly intuitive. I hope you’ll still piss off the top brass at the Bureau, local law enforcement officers, and, occasionally, your boss.” He gave a self-deprecating grimace. “The world needs its Fox Mulder, and as long as he’s always honest with his Master, and obedient, then I’d rather put up with the usual difficulties that come with being Fox Mulder’s supervisor, than have you lose that shining excellence you bring to everything you do.”

 

“Really?” Mulder couldn’t stop flushing at the praise. He might have believed he didn’t care what people thought of him and his work, but he did – especially when it was his Master.

 

“Really. You might end up with a sore ass when you get something wrong, but I don’t want you to stop being you for anything. I just want you to be a happier you.”

 

”I am. Thanks to my Master.” Mulder said, looking up into a pair of loving brown eyes.

 

“I’m looking forward to tomorrow.” Skinner caressed his slave thoughtfully, smiling at him.

 

“Have I earned my reward, Master?” Mulder asked. He hadn’t forgotten the promise Skinner had made him.

 

“Oh yes. You certainly have.” Skinner nodded.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Wait and see, slave. Wait and see.”

 

 

 

Mulder was on the edge of anticipation from the moment he woke up the following day, but Skinner refused to be rushed. He delivered his slave’s morning discipline with particular firmness, and sent his red-bottomed slave to stand in the corner for half an hour to calm down. Mulder had no idea what his treat would be, and he was like a kid just before Christmas, longing to find out what presents he was getting. At least it was a distraction from the knowledge that they would be going home the next day. Mulder didn’t want to go back. This vacation had soothed and healed him in ways he had never imagined possible, and he was closer to his Master than ever before. He understood what Elaine had meant now, when she said that he and his Master had needed this crisis to bring them closer together. Even if the pay off was the scar on his chest, he wasn’t sorry that it had all happened. He had lost something, but gained something of even greater value. It was a fair trade.  

 

Skinner ordered his slave to do the laundry, and pack ready for the journey home the following day, and then allowed his slave a few hours on the beach. Late in the afternoon, he told Mulder to go to the medieval bedroom, and prepare massage oils, and lubricant, and then to wait, in the submissive position, for his Master. Mulder did as ordered, and prepared the room thoroughly, humming to himself as he worked. He wondered what was going to happen next. Skinner had told him that it would be something he had never done before, and he got a tingle of anticipation as he considered what that might be. This vacation had been a time of many firsts, but after the penis whipping, and fisting, he had now come to the conclusion that there was nothing his Master could suggest that would freak him out again. He trusted the other man to know his limits, and to make each and every experience entirely what his slave needed.

 

Mulder knelt for half an hour, fully descending into the most serene of headspaces, completely devoted to being of use to his Master. He didn’t even look up when he heard his Master’s footstep on the stairs, and his hand on the door handle. Skinner came into the room, and stood before his slave.

 

“Boy, look at your Master,” he instructed in a low tone. Mulder looked up. Skinner was wearing Murray’s big, patterned sunflower robe. “I want you to serve me, slave,” Skinner said softly. “I want you to show me that you can be controlled, obedient, and that you can take care of your Master’s pleasure. Can you do that?”

 

”Yes, Master. I’ll do my best,” Mulder said, his throat dry.

 

“Very well. I want you to undress me, and massage me all over. Then I want you to serve me by making love to me.” Mulder looked up in surprise.

 

”Making…I’m sorry, Master, I don’t understand,” Mulder stammered.

 

”I want to feel your cock inside me, serving me,” Skinner told him, his dark eyes intense, and serious. Mulder swallowed hard. He had never given anal sex to anyone before, and the idea of serving his Master in this way made his cock harden, even as he felt himself starting to have performance anxieties.

 

“Remember this is a service,” Skinner told him, placing a hand on Mulder’s shoulder. “It’s a way of pleasuring your Master, of allowing me to relax, and enjoy your attention. Do you understand?”

 

“Yes, Master,” Mulder croaked. “But, Master…I’ve never…” he began.

 

“You’ve experienced it the other way around often enough, boy. You’ll do fine,” Skinner said, placing his finger under Mulder’s chin and making him look up. “I’m still your Master, and you are still my slave. That doesn’t change. I expect you to perform well, and serve me to the best of your abilities. I want to switch off, and be pampered. I want you to think about how you can please me. I don’t expect to instruct you. This is your show, boy. Take care of me.”

 

“Yes, Master.“ Mulder felt a thrill running through his body. He had dreamed of doing this but hadn’t thought he would ever be allowed such an honor. He kissed his Master’s feet in gratitude, and then got up, and carefully, with great deference, removed his Master’s robe. He guided Skinner to the bed, and helped him lie down.

 

“On your back, Master. I want to massage you all over,” Mulder said deferentially. 

 

Skinner lay down with a sigh, and Mulder mixed some oils, sat astride his Master, and began massaging him. Skinner closed his eyes and his whole body began to relax under his slave’s ministrations. Mulder was surprised to find how stiff his Master’s muscles were, and how much work he had to do to relax them. He realized, with a degree of shame, that the past few weeks had taken their toll on his Master. It had been tough for both of them, but Skinner, with his calm, controlled façade, always seemed to be dealing with everything better than his slave. Mulder was just beginning to understand that this was an illusion; Skinner had his vulnerabilities as well, and Mulder didn’t want to be the cause for his Master needing another session with Elaine. As he worked on his Master’s smooth, honeyed flesh, he realized that he was in the precise thing he had avoided all his life: a relationship. For a long time he had been telling himself he didn’t care, because it hurt so much to care about other people, and to risk rejection, or loss, as he had lost his sister, and been rejected by his father, and Phoebe. Skinner was giving him a new start, and Mulder wasn’t someone who did anything by halves. He was in a relationship, and he’d be in it all the way. Skinner had tamed him. He had taken in a wild, uncontrolled, spitting Fox, and trained him with love, and care, and attention. Mulder didn’t want to go back to the way he had been before. He wanted to bask in his Master’s love forever – and he knew that carried responsibilities. As Skinner cared for, and took care of him, so he would do the same for his Master. Mulder found a deeply knotted muscle in his Master’s arm, and pressed down hard to release the fluid. Skinner gave a low groan of pain. Mulder persisted with the searching massage, despite his Master’s grunts of discomfort. He saw in this a metaphor for what Skinner had done for him – keeping up the pressure, even when it hurt, until the pain was gone. Theirs was no longer an unequal relationship. Mulder was determined to put back in what he had taken out – with interest.  

 

Mulder took his time over the massage, and finally turned his Master onto his front, and surveyed the sight of the other man’s beautiful, taut, round buttocks with a sigh. Skinner did have the most magnificent ass. He poured more oil on his fingers, and smoothed them all over his Master’s back, taking great care to release the tension in his Master’s stiff neck. Finally, he allowed himself to contemplate the treat that was Skinner’s glorious ass. His cock was rock hard at the thought of worshipping his Master by entering the other man’s body, but he took some time playing with that beautiful bottom first. It was so rare that he was given permission to just play with his Master’s body, that he made the most of it, cupping those ass cheeks, and kissing each one over and over again, working them apart, and sliding a finger inside. Skinner made a small noise in the back of his throat, and opened his legs wider to facilitate Mulder’s questing fingers. Mulder entered another oiled finger, and found his Master open, and ready for him. He withdrew his fingers, and replaced them with his tongue. Skinner gave a low moan of sheer sexual pleasure, and thus encouraged, Mulder rimmed the other man for a long time, thoroughly enjoying himself. Mulder had given some thought to how he wanted to serve his Master, and as his own favorite position was lying on his back so that he could look into the eyes of the man thrusting into him, he decided that was what he wanted to do for his Master. That would also give him access to the other man’s cock so that he could bring him off. So, finally finishing with the rimming, he gently guided Skinner onto his back once more.

 

“Is Master comfortable? Does he require more pillows?” Mulder asked.

 

“No, I’m fine,” Skinner said, his entire body laid out like a feast in front of his slave, his cock lying large, and lazy, over his thighs. Mulder nodded, and poured some more oil into his palms. He was almost shaking with desire for the man in front of him, as he took his own cock in his hands, and massaged it firmly into a full erection. He took some pride in the job, and looked at his Master all the time he was anointing himself, seeing Skinner’s arousal in his dark eyes. When he felt ready, he slipped his oily fingers into his Master’s ass once more and made sure it was fully lubricated.

 

“I’m going to take good care of you, Master,” he whispered. 

 

Skinner smiled, never breaking eye contact. Mulder withdrew his fingers, and nudged his hard cock against the entrance to his Master’s ass. He guided Skinner’s legs onto his shoulders, and paused for a moment, staring down at the beautiful man he was making love to. Skinner wasn’t just his Master; he was also his friend, and his lover, and he was giving himself to his slave in a gesture of trust that Mulder felt so proud to be granted he could have wept. He pressed against his Master’s anus, and was surprised how easily he slipped inside. It was like coming home. It was where he belonged. It was so warm, and welcoming, so tight around his hard cock that it took all his control not to come there and then. He took a deep breath, and reached out to take his Master’s hand in his own, squeezing tight. Then Mulder grasped his Master’s buttocks in both his hands, and slid back, and then forward again with an easy thrust. His Master’s eyes widened, his pupils dilated with pleasure, and his cock hardened. Mulder felt a heady sense of power; he was bringing his Master this pleasure. It was he who was making Skinner hard, he who was filling his Master’s ass, and making this big man whimper, and sigh, and cry out in ecstasy. It was the best feeling in the world, and he could feel himself floating on a haze of pleasure. No wonder Skinner so enjoyed using his slave’s ass, and bringing him this same pleasure. It was wonderful. He got into a steady rhythm, looking into his Master’s eyes as he thrust back and forth, and Skinner’s mouth opened, and he was lost in the pleasure that Mulder’s deft strokes brought to him. Mulder took his Master’s cock in his hand, and as he slid forward with each thrust, he pumped the hard, solid penis until it seemed to Mulder that they had become one. They were no longer Mulder and Skinner, slave and Master, but had become two complementary sides of the same coin. It was fitting that they should come together, in an explosion of satisfaction, and as he came, Mulder heard his Master bellowing with sheer pleasure. His heart surged with pride. He had brought his Master to the heights of such sexual ecstasy. It was a good feeling. He collapsed, exhausted, on top of his Master, and lay there for a while, panting, and listening to Skinner’s heartbeat. Then, mindful of his station, he carefully withdrew, and cleaned himself, and his Master, before kneeling beside the bed.

 

”Is there any other way I can serve you, Master?” he asked, eyes down, heart still pounding after the exertion, and joy of serving Skinner in this way.

 

“Yes, you can join me in the bed. I want you to hold me,” Skinner ordered, and Mulder scrambled eagerly onto the bed and took his Master in his arms. It felt good to be holding this solid flesh, and he kissed the back of his Master’s smooth scalp, and held him tight, sighing contently.

 

“Did I please you, Master?” he whispered.

 

“Oh yes. Very much,” Skinner murmured hazily, still clearly lost on the sexual high.

 

Mulder laughed. Tomorrow they would return home, and life would crowd back in as he did his best to win back his collar, but these two weeks had shown him something he had never understood before; that his Master trusted him as much as he trusted his Master. They were equals. Each had needs, and looked to the other to fill those needs. There was no weakness in their cravings or desires, and no shame. They belonged together, in the same way that their bodies fitted so perfectly inside each other.

 

“Thank you for allowing me to serve you in this way, Master.” Mulder slid his hands over his Master’s body proprietarily. “I’ve just realized, Master,” he whispered, wrapping his legs around Skinner’s body, as if he wanted them to become one flesh. “I belong to you, without question or dispute, but you…you also belong to me.”

 

He wondered if he had gone too far until Skinner convulsed against him in a rare fit of mirth. He turned in Mulder’s arms, so that they were face-to-face, legs still entwined, sated cocks rubbing limply together.

 

“Oh, Fox,” he laughed, running his hands over Mulder’s face, smiling. “Have you only just figured that out?”

 

End of Chapter 21