24/7: 8. It’s My Party and I’ll Cry If I Want To

 

The first thing Mulder’s Master did on Thursday morning was to order him into the shower. The second thing he did was to tell his damp slave that he was taking him down even further, and that he would be silent for the rest of the day. Mulder stared up at him in shock. A whole day of silence? Without even the benefit of the gag to enforce it?

 

“You have to learn, sweetheart,” Skinner chuckled, reading his expression. “You’ll be silent for most of the day, until I give you the command that you can speak. View this as a learning opportunity, Fox.”

 

Mulder opened his mouth to protest, and Skinner placed a finger over it. “It’s one stroke with the strap for every word you say today. I’ll keep tally and deliver them this evening. Now, do you think you can take your morning discipline without talking? Screams are fine, and I’ll keep it light.”

 

Mulder thought about it for a moment, and then nodded, but it was with some trepidation that he lowered himself over his Master’s knee. Skinner was true to his word, and the slaps that rained down on Mulder’s ass from his bare hand didn’t do more than sting, but even so, after the sheer volume built up on his sore ass, Mulder was writhing, and kicking. It took all his willpower not to cry out, or beg his Master for a reprieve. When it was over, Skinner placed him back on his knees, and gave him a deep, searching kiss.

 

“I’m very proud of you, Fox,” he said when he’d finished, leaving Mulder almost whimpering for more. “When you can regularly take even the most severe discipline without pleas, or resistance, accept it as your due, as symbolic of your slavery, and kneel and kiss my feet afterwards in thanks, then your training will be complete. This was a good first step. I’m pleased.”

 

The afterglow of Skinner’s praise stayed with Mulder for most of the day, and the trial of silence actually turned out to be pleasurable, as he watched his Master intently, relieved of the necessity to communicate in any way save through his body language. Skinner was firm but attentive. He took his slave on an hour’s leash training – Mulder’s nipples were still sore, but the worst of the initial aftermath of the piercing had worn off. Skinner assured him that within 2 weeks they wouldn’t give him any discomfort at all. “Then we can really begin to play with them,” he promised, touching the tip of his index finger to one, which sent tingles down Mulder’s spine.

 

Mulder was now confident on the leash. Learning the signals had been a walk in the park – Mulder’s worst enemy was his over-active mind. If he switched off, and, as Skinner had told him to do on so many occasions, surrendered to his submission, then he performed brilliantly. If, however, he tried to think about it too much, or to second-guess his Master, then he usually screwed up. Skinner was firm but patient, and Mulder actually came to actively enjoy his sessions on the leash. He had a mental image of himself walking behind his Master down the corridors of a deserted Hoover building, himself naked, Skinner fully clothed, leading him by the chain attached to his pierced nipples. It was the kind of image that made him immediately hard. He was so used to his aching, unrelieved erection now, that it was easier for him not to be distracted by it. He still couldn’t wait to be allowed to come, and he hoped desperately that the party would go without incident, and he could claim his prize of a night in his Master’s arms. Skinner had even hinted that he’d perform oral sex on his slave, and Mulder practically salivated at that prospect.

 

Mulder went through a familiar litany of tasks on his day of silence. He shaved 5 balloons, and only killed 3 of them, then performed an extensive workout, under Skinner’s watchful gaze.

 

“I’m going to improve your diet – more protein, less junk food,” Skinner informed him, as he ran on the treadmill. “And add some definition to your pecs and upper body. I’ve worked out a program for you that should achieve that. I like you as you are though – I don’t want you bulked up, so the program will just tone you, and increase your levels of fitness. Your body is over-stressed,” he frowned at the full fitness survey he’d made his slave complete, including an in depth study of his eating habits, fitness methods, body stats, and a cardio vascular work out. “We’ll work on that. You’ll find that being a slave has its own stresses, but, by and large, it can be a very restful condition.”

 

Mulder shot him a look of disbelief, and made his first slip up of the day by not being able to contain the “yeah, right,” that slipped out of his mouth. Skinner raised an eyebrow.

 

“That’s two with the strap this evening, Fox,” he warned. “Keep a tally – I’ll ask you for the total later on. I hope for your sake that it doesn’t grow too much.”

 

Afterward the workout, Skinner took him to the Playroom, and tied him up in the harness again. He didn’t blindfold him, and Mulder enjoyed another hour of soothing, light stroking, and tickling. He only earned two swats for not being able to stay still, and he only gasped out a “shit!” once, when Skinner indulged in some prolonged tickling of his armpits. All in all, he thought his Master was pleased with him.

 

Later that afternoon, Skinner made him kneel on the floor with his hands outstretched, and placed a pot in each of them.

 

“Half an hour without moving, then you can go on all fours and be my footstool again for another half an hour,” Skinner informed him.

 

Mulder made a face. He hated this human furniture thing. It made his muscles ache apart from anything else, as Skinner insisted on complete stillness. “You can take a rest every time the strain is too much – 30 seconds or so to get the blood moving again, just lower your hands until the ache has gone, then raise them again,” Skinner told him. “I’m not asking you to be superhuman, just to learn the benefit of discovering a still center to your soul, and how to inhabit it for short periods of time. If, at the same time, you can also be of service, then that’s even better,” he grinned, pouring water into one bowl, and filling the other with peanuts, which he helped himself to every time he past his hapless, silent slave-come-coffee table.

 

Mulder sighed, and tried his best to master the skill, but he still hated it. He hated being a footstool even more. There was something utterly degrading about kneeling on all fours with his butt in the air, having his back used as a footrest. Skinner’s long legs were heavy as well, and the demands that he be completely still were hard for him to obey. Skinner pulled him into a hug when his half hour was up, and kissed his slave’s forehead tenderly.

 

“Well done. I know that wasn’t easy,” he said, and Mulder laid his head against his Master’s shoulder, with a heartfelt sigh.

 

“I hate being furniture, Master,” he said mournfully.

 

“That’s five more, Fox.” Skinner said cheerfully. “Now, I want to use you. Do you think you can remain completely still andsilent, while I do that? I can gag and tie you if need be, but I’d prefer it if you learned to obey me of your own volition.”

 

Mulder looked at his Master wide eyed. He loved that Skinner found his body so exciting, that he enjoyed exploring it, and opening it. Having his prostate stimulated wasn’t quite as enjoyable as being allowed to come, but it was the next best thing. However, he did have a tendency to move around, and shout out a lot during sex. His Master was combining two lessons in one with his question. Mulder thought about it, and nodded – he would try at least.

 

“Good boy,” Skinner kissed his forehead again. “Lie down on your back, and open your legs. I’ll place you into whatever position I want you in – I don’t want you to move at all, and speech is forbidden. If you disobey me on either of those, then I’ll add it to the list for punishment tonight.”

 

Mulder nodded again, wondering if he would regret turning down the use of the gag, and bondage. He lay on his back on the floor, and opened his legs wide. Skinner knelt between them, and entered a finger into Mulder’s anus, probing gently, and thoroughly. Mulder started to moan, and had to bite back the sound. It was much harder than he thought to lie completely still, without moving, as Skinner continued that long, probing caress. Two fingers, then three, and Mulder wanted to shout out loud, and put his arms above his head, to lean into the slow, loving caress. It took all his willpower to resist.

 

After several minutes of this, Skinner undid his jeans, and took out his pulsing erection, stroking it. He laid it against Mulder’s inner thigh, and teased him with it, then he unwrapped a condom and placed it on his hard cock. He raised Mulder’s legs over his shoulders, and grasped his slave’s thighs, impaling him on his cock in one swift movement that made Mulder shout out, then bite on his lip. The first moments of entrance were always slightly painful to Mulder, but when Skinner started to thrust, and found his prostate, that discomfort rapidly changed into an intense, burning pleasure. He was amazed by how much he enjoyed anal sex now. Part of it was the thrill of being dominated, opened by his big, strong, powerful Master, and taken by him without mercy, subject to his whim, and will, but part of it was simply enjoyment of the act itself. Mulder strained every muscle in his body to keep still, and quiet, as Skinner pounded into him, back and forth, stimulating his sensitive nerve endings, and making his whole body quiver with the need to shout, and move. It was hard to lie so still when his anus was being stroked to the heights of ecstasy, and Mulder started to sweat, the moisture dripping off his face with effort. He longed for it to go on forever, and for it to be over, at one and the same time.

 

Skinner had enormous control of his body, and he hadn’t been lying when he had told Mulder on his first night as his slave that he could stay hard for a long time. Mulder felt as if he was subject to the most bizarre form of sexual torture he could ever have imagined. Skinner’s big body possessed him, slow stroke, by slow stroke, thrusting and withdrawing so many times that the whole event became a haze, and finally Mulder snapped, and flung his head back, the sweat flowing down his neck.

 

“Oh god!” he cried out.

 

“That’s another 2 – add them to the tally,” Skinner told him between panting thrusts. “Hands back down by your sides, keep very still or it won’t be the strap I use tonight – it’ll be the tawse.” The threat of that particular implement was enough to stun Mulder into silence again, and he bit down hard on his lip, his bare back starting to rub on the carpet.

 

Mulder watched, the enforced stillness and silence making him focus his attention not the sensations in his own body, but on his Master. He noted the way Skinner’s strong neck muscles bunched up as he thrust into his slave’s body, how his Master’s broad forehead was covered with a thin sheen of sweat. He watched, fascinated, enjoying the way his Master half closed his eyes as he went about his pleasure, how he focused all of his formidable will on the event, pursued it almost, until he was sated. Skinner came with a long exhalation of breath, and Mulder lay silently, not moving, just watching, as his Master’s breathing slowed, and returned to normal.

 

“Good boy. That’s another hard lesson. We’ll be returning to it several times.” Skinner smiled. “I notice you watched me – that’s good. Next time, focus on me even more, and you’ll gradually learn how to please me. When you can finally come to concentrate on me, and how best to serve me, then you’ll have learned the true nature of your enslavement. Remember,” he withdrew from his slave’s willing body, “your own pleasure is incidental, Fox. My pleasure is paramount. If I choose for you to be rewarded, or for this,” he tugged on his slave’s hard cock, “to be allowed to release, it’s because it pleases me, not because I want to please you.” Mulder blinked, drinking in these words, and the breath-taking vision of the full range of his own submission that was being presented to him. His already hard cock almost went into spasm. Skinner grinned, and slapped it.

 

“Down boy!” he laughed. “Hopefully, tomorrow night it’ll please me to give this little monster what it’s panting for.”

 

Skinner got up, rearranged his clothing, and disposed of the used condom, then he clipped Mulder’s leash on him and set him some basic household chores to get the house ready for the party the following day. Mulder followed his Master in a haze of silent obedience. He fought his slavery less this day than any other day previously. The serenity he had caught only briefly before, now claimed him, and he was almost surprised when the day came to an end.

 

“Your punishment before bed.” Skinner smiled, handing him the key to the playroom. “Go and get the strap, Fox, then go and wait for me in your bedroom.” Mulder looked up at him in surprise. “Your bedroom isn’t your own personal territory, sweetheart!” Skinner laughed. “You’re still my slave in there, just as you are everywhere else. You shouldn’t get into the habit of thinking you’re exempt from my attentions in any particular place. Go and kneel beside your bed, with the strap in your mouth, and consider what you’ve learned today.”

 

Mulder nodded, and went up the stairs, holding his leash under his tongue. He retrieved the strap and went back to his bedroom, then placed the strap with the leash in his mouth, and knelt, waiting for his Master. He watched as the minutes ticked by – long, endless minutes of waiting. He considered getting up, but somehow he just knew that Skinner would choose the exact moment he disobeyed, to appear in the doorway.

 

Half an hour passed, and Mulder experienced a range of emotions. Nervous anticipation about the spanking mingled with anger about being kept waiting. He tried some mental tricks to help him get through, reminding himself that his Master could keep him waiting if he wanted to, just as he could whip him, when, where, and how hard he liked for as long as he liked, if he wanted to. His buttocks clenched in fear of the event. He could taste the leather strap, and knew that it would soon make hard contact with his ass, but Mulder reminded himself that had no choice but to accept, and allow it to happen. Finally, he reached a state of serenity and acceptance. He switched off, and allowed the time to pass, without noticing it. When Skinner did finally appear, his slave was almost surprised to see him.

 

“Good boy.” Skinner patted his head, and took the strap from his mouth. “Bend over the bed.” Mulder obeyed quickly, spreading his knees as instructed, so that Skinner had full access to every part of his ass. This also made it harder for him to clench his muscles, and made his bottom feel even more exposed, and available for his Master’s correction. Even then, Skinner didn’t put him out of his misery straight away. He paused, and Mulder tried to slow his breathing.

 

“I make it eleven in all,” Skinner informed him, Mulder having earned a couple more at various points during the day. “Do you agree with that tally, slave?” Mulder thought about it for a moment, and then nodded. “All right. I want you to accept this discipline in the same manner as I asked you to accept your discipline this morning. Without speaking, calling out, or begging. Focus, slave.” There was silence. Mulder strained, waited for the first blow, and waited…and waited…Finally he started to relax, to switch off, and regain the silence – and that was when the first blow struck home.

 

The strap was a light, snappy implement, and it stung badly but didn’t leave much by way of evidence once the redness had worn off. Skinner whipped it lightly across his slave’s ass, and the shock of it made Mulder jump, but he didn’t cry out. After six licks he was breathing hard, and he longed to shout out loud, but he didn’t. Instead he kept breathing, and kept reminding himself who he belonged to, and what he was being asked to do. He was stunned to find how easily he accepted the stinging swats, and how quickly the whole event was over. When the last blow had been delivered, he turned around, and kissed his Master’s feet, and then knelt in happy submission, looking up at his Master with adoring eyes.

 

Skinner was clearly delighted. He crouched down, took his slave in his arms, and kissed him again.

 

“I’m so proud of you. Keep this up, and I’ll be the envy of all the other tops in the whole country,” he laughed. “If you perform like this at the party tomorrow night, I’ll be inundated with requests to buy you.”

 

Mulder looked up, his eyes holding a wordless plea.

 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’d never sell you,” Skinner reassured him. “Apart from anything else, I don’t think anybody else could handle you – and I wouldn’t want a runaway turning up on my doorstep every few days!” He laughed, and kissed Mulder again. “You’re very special to me, Fox,” he murmured. “I promise I’ll take very good care of you. Do you trust me?” Mulder’s eyes were shining as he nodded. “Good. I know I’m strict with you, but I think you respond well to boundaries. When you can take the lessons I’ve taught you today about your own submission, and weave them into the tapestry of everyday life, then you’ll feel so free you could fly, little one. It won’t be easy, and it’ll take a lot of getting used to, but I’ll get you there. Now, after seeing the benefit of that confessional last night, you can get used to talking to me most nights.” Mulder looked up wordlessly, suddenly no longer sure that he had anything to say, but Skinner’s expression was firm, and his dark eyes serious. “You can kneel, or sit, look at me, or look down, I don’t mind, but I want to hear what’s going on in your head. I won’t ever punish you for what you say during this half-hour, so long as you are truthful, and polite, and I won’t interrupt. All I ask for is your honesty.”

 

Skinner sat down on the bed, and gazed at his slave expectantly. Mulder took a deep breath, then found himself crawling over, and placing his head on Skinner’s knee. He couldn’t look at the other man, but he was reassured by the way Skinner stroked his hair.

 

“I…” He stopped – his voice sounded strange and unreal as he broke his silence. Skinner’s hand continued to stroke his hair, encouraging him to continue. “Uh…” Mulder cleared his throat. “Today was good. I found a place…I really liked being there.” He closed his eyes, and rubbed his cheek against his Master’s thigh. “I want to be everything you want of me, Master, but…I think I’ll screw it up.” Skinner didn’t say anything, and Mulder found it impossible to look at his Master. “You could be harder on me, Master,” he shrugged. “Some of that stuff you do to me turns me on so much…I like it when you’re hard on me. Okay, sometimes I hate it too, but it sends shivers up my spine, it has an edge to it…I need that edge…”

 

He felt as if he was rambling now, but the words just came out in a disjointed torrent.

 

“Sometimes I feel like I’m flying into orbit, and I need someone to pull me back down to earth, and keep me here – by force if need be. I’d like you to do that for me. I want you to, and in return, I’m happy to serve you. It’s easy to worship you for doing that for me. That doesn’t make me weak. I’m not needy.” Mulder clenched his fists. “With Phoebe, it was…she wanted to dominate me, but then she despised me for allowing it. I didn’t get off on her loathing. I wanted more from her than that, I thought we were well-matched, that we had complementary needs, so when I saw the naked loathing in her eyes – that hurt. You…if I thought you despised me for being what I am, I’d be so fucking angry…so…” Mulder couldn’t continue, because he couldn’t bear thinking about that.

 

“The submissive kink – that isn’t all I am. When we go back to work…it’ll be different. I’m not sure how I’m going to deal with that… how you’re going to deal with that. I have all these questions. I want to know about you, and about the Playroom. How did you get into the Lifestyle, and what do you mean you’ve tried out all that stuff on yourself?” Mulder paused, but no answer was forthcoming. “I’ve known you for 6 years and I never guessed, although, hell, I suppose, if I’m honest, I did get off on some of our, uh… altercations.” He bit on his lip, wishing he hadn’t shared that particular guilty secret, and longing to know what Skinner made of it, only he didn’t dare look up.

 

“I know, you’ve known me the same amount of time, and you probably didn’t guess either. Or maybe you did. Jeez, you are so going to regret giving me the opportunity to talk. One thing about this crazy shit deal that totally freaks me, and has taken me by surprise, is how much I want to serve you. The shaving thing…the idea of washing you…I never knew shit like that would turn me on. Phoebe used to fuck with my mind more…I hated that, but I really loved her… This scares me, Master. I go to bed every night, and I wake up every morning scared shitless about how deep I’m getting into this, but it’s so good too. So damn good, and I want to give in, I really want to, but there’s this crazy Mulder person holds me back sometimes. Fox could kneel at your feet forever, but Mulder…I dunno about him. He’s such a difficult bastard.”

 

Mulder finally ran out of steam, the stream of consciousness coming to a faltering halt. He watched the seconds tick by on Skinner’s watch, and then the time was over. Skinner hadn’t said a word throughout. Mulder had no idea how his confessions had been received, but he felt curiously light-headed at having spoken so freely and openly. There was more, so much more, that he hadn’t said, and couldn’t say, but this was a start. Skinner seemed to think so too, because he got up pulled his slave to his feet, gave him a deep, loving kiss, then pointed to the bed. “Thank you, Fox,” he murmured. “Sleep well. Tomorrow’s the big day, and I know how cranky you can be if you don’t get enough rest.”

 

Mulder nodded, and watched as his Master went to the door. He wanted to say more, to ask questions about the party, to tell Skinner how freaked by the whole idea he still was, but he found that he couldn’t.

 

“Fox.” Skinner turned around as he opened the door. “Just one thing. When we get back to work – it won’t be any different. Agent Mulder is merely the public face of my slave, Fox. Fox is what you are. I won’t allow you to be two people at once. You’re mine; body, heart, mind, and soul. Here, there, and everywhere, as the Beatles once said. Maybe that should be our song,” he grinned. Then he turned out the light, and disappeared.

 

Mulder awoke the next morning with a knot of anxiety in the pit of his stomach. He was worried about so many things to do with the party that he wasn’t sure what concerned him most. Seeing his old tops, the mysterious ‘entertainment’ that he was somehow supposed to provide, being displayed naked, having to be submissive all night, and, most of all, he was scared he’d screw up, and there was so much at stake. Not only the night in his Master’s arms that he’d been promised, but also his Master’s honor, and prestige on the scene. If Mulder screwed up, it would reflect badly on his Master.

 

Skinner, on the other hand, seemed positively jovial when Mulder took him his morning coffee. His Master remained on a high all day, accepting deliveries of food and drink, directing Mulder in tidying up the Playroom, and upstairs lounge, to make it spick and span for their guests, and fitting in a brief session of leash training, and stroking.

 

“Excellent,” Skinner beamed as he released his slave from the harness, after their daily ritual of Mulder keeping still while his Master touched him all over. “Not one swat of the paddle. I think you’ll be ready for tonight, little one.”

 

“Why, Master. What are you going to do to me?” Mulder asked, anxiously. Skinner just grinned mysteriously, and gave him a swat on the backside.

 

“Whatever I want, slave,” he reprimanded mildly. “Now, you’ve done so well that I’m going to grant you a reward. Come with me.” He went over to one of the cupboards, and opened it. “You can choose what I wear tonight, Fox,” he said, waving a hand at the sumptuous array of clothes inside the closet.

 

This was Skinner’s ‘fantasy’ wardrobe, which contained completely different items to the starched shirts, and formal suits that could be found in his normal closet. Mulder looked in, eagerly. He’d never been particularly interested in fashion before, but there was something erotic about choosing the clothes his Master would be seen in at his slave’s party. If Skinner was looking forward to displaying the charms of his naked slave, then Mulder found the idea of making his Master into an object of envy, equally appealing.

 

He rifled through the many costumes, before short-listing a pair of black leather trousers, a black vest, a garnet silk shirt, a pair of stone-colored chinos, a black polo neck, and a leather waistcoat.

 

“Problems choosing, slave?” Skinner inquired.

 

Mulder looked up thoughtfully. “If Master would consider giving me a, uh, display?” he asked.

 

Skinner sighed. “All right – but make it quick,” he said, although Mulder noticed that he couldn’t stop grinning.

 

Mulder undressed his Master swiftly, and then helped him into the garnet silk shirt, and chinos. Skinner looked magnificent in them, although Mulder just knew they weren’t items his Master would be seen dead in at the office or in fact, anywhere but at a scene party. They were too extravagant, the garnet too deep. It made his Master look…exotic. Mulder exchanged the shirt for the black vest.

 

“Now this is a look I could really go for…” Mulder surveyed the way the vest displayed his Master’s rippling biceps to best advantage. He hung the leather waistcoat over it, and was pretty damn pleased with the result, but the black items didn’t go with the chinos, so he helped Skinner into the leather trousers, then stepped back in awe.

 

“Master looks…hot,” he grinned. “But…maybe a bit obvious? Try on the black polo neck.”

 

Skinner shook his head. “Just wait until I take you shopping tomorrow, sweetheart,” he laughed. “Then I’ll get my own back for your indecision.”

 

Mulder helped Skinner into the thin cotton polo neck, and took a step back, then felt his knees go weak.

 

“Oh, yeah!” he muttered feebly. The polo neck clung to his Master’s broad chest, displaying his rugged good looks to the best advantage, and accentuating his flat, washboard stomach. The leather trousers weren’t too tight, but they were snug, and they seemed to make his long legs even longer. “I, uh, think that’s it,” Mulder whispered, awe struck.

 

“Good. Take them down to my bedroom, then run me a bath. Our guests will be with us in a couple of hours. Kneel.” Skinner clicked his fingers and Mulder obeyed immediately. “Fox…” Skinner tilted his head to look into his slave’s eyes. “From now on, you’re in deep submission and you’ll remain that way until after the party. Then, if you behave well, I’ll release you from deep submission, and take you to my bed tonight. Do you have any questions before we begin, little one?”

 

“Supposing I screw up?” Mulder blurted.

 

Skinner frowned. “Fox, I’ve been preparing you all week for this. You’re ready. I have every confidence in you. All you have to do is embrace your slavery, and remember all the lessons you’ve been taught. If you are having any difficulties, you will tell me.”

 

“What’s going to happen, though, Master?” Mulder couldn’t keep the whining tone out of his voice.

 

Skinner sighed. “I’m not going to tell you everything, Fox. You’ll go into the unknown, because I tell you to, and because you trust me. I’ll be beside you all the way. That’s all you need to know. Anything else?”

 

Mulder shook his head, numbly. Skinner nodded, and his whole demeanor changed. He pulled himself up straight, and glanced down at his slave from what seemed to be a great height.

 

“All right, slave. You’re in deep submission now. Let me tell you what I expect of you tonight. You will not speak to any of our guests. When they arrive you will take their coats and place them on the bed in your room. If they talk to you, you won’t answer, no matter what they say. The only person you may talk to tonight is me, and then only unless spoken to, except in the case of an emergency, or if you need to draw my attention to any distress you’re feeling. Our guests won’t touch you, little one.”

 

Skinner’s expression was serious, and his fingers held Mulder’s chin firmly, forcing his slave to drown in his gaze throughout this long speech.

 

“Nobody will touch you but me. If anybody does touch you, tell me immediately, and they will be ejected from the party. Forcibly,” Skinner said flexing his muscles unconsciously. Mulder nodded gratefully. “It might please me, at some party in the future, to tie you to a spanking horse, with an array of disciplinary implements in a rack beside you, and allow other people to administer discipline under my supervision, but that won’t happen tonight,” Skinner told him. Mulder’s cock did a strange leap. He wasn’t sure whether he thought that idea was horrific or not, but his cock certainly seemed to like it. “For tonight, you will wear your leash at all times, and you will watch for my every command. You will concentrate on pleasing me, and obeying my every order. That is all you need do. You are not required to be witty, or charming or entertaining, although I will certainly expect you to display these talents at other parties I might hold in the future. For tonight, I will display you in such a way as to entertain our guests, but I will decide how, and you will merely follow my orders. You will do everything I tell you to, immediately, and without question – without even thinking about it. That is the level of submission and trust that I require from you.” Skinner’s dark eyes impressed upon Mulder the serious intent of this statement. “That is all, boy. Go and run my bath.”

 

Mulder scurried to obey. He ran the bath, added scented oils, and laid out his Master’s clothes on the bed. When the bath was ready, he undressed his Master, and placed a towel to warm on the heated rail. He returned to kneel beside the bath, eyes down, completely submissive. He didn’t even steal a glance at his Master as he soaked himself thoroughly. After about twenty minutes, Skinner sat up, and instructed his slave to soap him. Mulder obeyed, quickly and efficiently, not daring to steal any kisses. Then he helped his Master out of the bath, enveloped him in the warm towel, and dried him thoroughly, before escorting him into the bedroom. Skinner insisted on his slave dressing him completely, from head to foot, and Mulder reveled in pulling those tight leather trousers up his Master’s thighs. He finished by combing the tiny fringe of hair at the back of his Master’s head, and then waited in silence, kneeling beside his Master, awaiting further instructions.

 

“Take a shower – and meet me in the playroom. I want to…” Skinner paused, a slight smile tugging on his lips, “decorate you,” he murmured. “And Fox?” Mulder turned on his way to the door. “You’ll be marked,” Skinner told him. Mulder felt his stomach do a nervous flip, but he nodded, and exited quietly.

 

He examined himself in the mirror when he got back to his room. His morning discipline had been light, and despite the punishment it had undergone that week, his butt was curiously clear of marks – Skinner was skilled enough to deliver even quite severe punishment without leaving much evidence. The marks he’d received a few days earlier had now faded almost completely. Mulder shivered. The idea of being marked was a turn on, but the reality of it was damn painful. He knew he had no choice, so he went to the shower, and cleaned himself thoroughly, inside and out, before presenting himself back at the Playroom for his Master. Skinner was already waiting for him, a long, thin cane hanging loosely from his belt. Mulder’s stomach lurched.

 

“First things first.” Skinner opened the cupboard, and pulled out something that made a tinkling sound. Mulder looked up, intrigued. “I’d like to be able to hear where my slave is at any given point, and although I want to display you naked, a bit of decoration doesn’t go amiss.” Skinner grinned, and approached his slave. “So…you’re going to be the prettiest slave in the house this evening…with bells on.” He laughed at his own joke, and Mulder opened his mouth in silent horror. He watched, dismayed, as Skinner clipped a tiny, gold bell to each nipple ring. “Get up, and, uh, prance, boy,” Skinner ordered.

 

Mulder knelt there, mutinously. Skinner raised an eyebrow.

 

“I think I gave you an order,” his Master told him dangerously. Mulder tried to get back down into his submission, but it was hard when he just knew that if he moved so much as a muscle, his nipples would… ring. Skinner raised the cane, ominously, and Mulder gave in and got to his feet, his face flushing with embarrassment as the bells tinkled. There was an irritating, tinny quality to the sound.

 

“Master, please,” he whispered, “don’t make me wear these.”

 

“Why not? I like them. They’re pretty.” Skinner placed the end of the cane under one of the bells, and flicked, making it tinkle merrily. Mulder clenched his fists behind his back.

 

“I feel like a fucking fairy or some kind of Christmas ornament or something,” Mulder growled.

 

“Well I like the look. Now, I think I told you to prance,” Skinner said firmly.

 

Mulder shot him a look of pure hatred, and Skinner drew himself up to his full, formidable height, and stood over his slave. Mulder went eyeball to eyeball with his Master for a long time, and then, slowly, reluctantly, backed down.

 

“I hate this, Master,” he whispered, as he attempted to prance, as directed.

 

“And why should that interest me?” Skinner asked dangerously.

 

“Master did say I could tell you if I was in any distress,” he reminded Skinner.

 

“And having bells attached to your nipple rings distresses you how?” Skinner demanded. Mulder opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again. “There’s a difference between being in genuine distress, and submitting to the will of your Master, even when you hate what he is asking of you,” Skinner told him. “Don’t confuse the two. Remember the cautionary tale of the boy who cried wolf.”

 

Mulder nodded glumly.

 

“Come here.” Skinner pulled him over to the cupboard, and showed him his reflection. The gold bells were very light, and barely tugged on his nipple rings, but they looked ridiculous – to Mulder’s mind at least. Skinner stood behind him, and stoked his nipples gently, with a gossamer touch, mindful of the fact they were still healing. “When these have healed, we’ll play some fun games with them. They can stand a lot of pulling.” He nuzzled his slave’s cheek with his own. “And I have far more interesting ornamentation than these little bells. I had to keep it lightweight for now, but did you know there are weights that can be attached to these? The pull can be very…erotic. Painful, but full of sensation.” He pinched Mulder’s right nipple lightly, making his slave gasp. “Now, I’ve had enough disobedience from you, boy. I think it’s time to remind you who’s in charge. When you go into that party this evening, you’ll be wearing the signs of my ownership – my rings on your body, and the marks of my cane on your ass.” Mulder felt the handle of the crop push between his butt cheeks. Skinner tightened the hold of his arm across Mulder’s chest.

 

“Who do you belong to?” Skinner demanded.

 

Mulder looked at their reflections in the mirror. They seemed to fit together perfectly. Skinner was just a bit taller than him, his bald head in stark relief to Mulder’s thick hair. His Master’s chest was just broad enough to be visible around the side of his slave’s naked body. Skinner’s black clothing, so smooth, and satanic, was in contrast to Mulder’s pale flesh. There was something so perfect about their reflection. Skinner so much the Master, Mulder so much the slave. He wanted to encapsulate the moment forever, to imprint it on his memory.

 

“You, Master,” he replied. “I belong to you.”

 

“And what can I do to you?” Skinner asked, flicking a bell with one lazy finger, making it chime repeatedly.

 

Mulder closed his eyes, his body melting against Skinner’s black clad form. “Whatever you like, Master,” he said, with a resigned sigh.

 

“Good. Now, I’m going to mark you.” Skinner took out the leather pouch, and fastened it around his slave’s testicles. “Go and stand by the horse.” Mulder did as he was told, his stomach flipping. “Ask me.” Skinner stood in front of him.

 

Mulder dropped to his knees. “Please mark me, Master,” he requested.

 

Skinner held the cane under his slave’s nose. “Kiss the cane, Fox,” he ordered. Mulder did so, his mouth dry. The cane was long and thin, and quite vicious looking. “I save this cane for special occasions so you won’t have seen it before,” Skinner informed him. “I’ve found it marks exceptionally well. It’s got a sting on it that you won’t believe, but the line it draws is perfect.”

 

Mulder didn’t feel at all heartened by this news.

 

“Bend over the horse,” Skinner instructed. Mulder did so, his heart beating anxiously in his chest. “As this is a special occasion, and as we want our guests to see the extent of your submission, this marking will be particularly severe. This is less to cause you pain, Fox, than to remind both you, and our guests, that you are my possession, and subject to my whim. Understood?”

 

Mulder wasn’t sure it made any difference what the reasons were, but he nodded, and steeled himself for the first cut.

 

“Legs further apart, slave.” Skinner ran the crop between the inside of his thighs, and Mulder stretched his legs out even further. “Lift that ass up to me so I can kiss it with my cane. I want to make sure my aim is particularly true tonight. I’m going to mark you with parallel lines so our guests can admire my skill. Each mark will be clear, and to do that, I have to hit my target cleanly. Make sure you don’t move.”

 

“Yes, Master,” Mulder said, and his voice sounded like a whimper to his own ears.

 

Skinner rested the crop on Mulder’s butt for what seemed like an eternity, and then it was removed. Mulder heard a swishing sound, and then the cane landed on his ass, with an almighty streak of pain.

 

“Oh shit.” He stood up, and hopped around for a moment his hands going to his abused behind. Skinner stopped them before they got there.

 

“Don’t touch my handiwork,” Skinner said. “I don’t think it’ll do you any harm to live with the sting.” He put a big hand on Mulder’s shoulder, and thrust him back over the horse. Mulder was dimly aware that his Master hadn’t been kidding when he said the cane had a sting to it. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. “Prepare yourself for the next one,” Skinner told him. Mulder spread his legs wide, his knees shaking, and Skinner caressed his back for a moment, calming him. “Ass up more, that’s good.”

 

Mulder felt the cane against his buttocks again, and he took a deep breath. Skinner’s hand stopped stroking his back, and rested just above his bottom, holding him pressed firmly into the horse so that he couldn’t move. The second blow landed fractionally lower, and Mulder let out a loud yell, and squirmed beneath Skinner’s hand. Somehow, bellowing at the top of his voice took his mind off the appalling sting of the cane.

 

“We’ve only just started,” Skinner warned, settling his slave back down again. Mulder’s heart sank. Last time he had been marked, his Master had only given him three strokes and that hadn’t even been with this particularly nasty instrument of torture. Mulder was amazed he’d endured that much. He was sure he couldn’t take more than three with the cane, and said as much. Skinner laughed, soothing his back again.

 

“You’ll take more than three, Fox. I think 6 would make the right impact on your ass, as well as being, uh, somewhat traditional as well, and I’m a traditional kind of Master. Ass up.” He tapped Mulder’s ass with the cane, and before the slave knew it, another stroke had kissed his buttocks, leaving a trailing red line of fire.

 

“No more, Master. Please. I can’t stand it,” Mulder whimpered, trying once more to caress the sting out of his buttocks, and once more finding Skinner’s hands blocking his way. He moaned in frustration. Skinner pulled him up, and looked into his eyes.

 

“Fox, you can stand more. You can stand three more to be precise. You’ll stand it, because I’m asking you to, and because you want to look your best for this party. You’ll enjoy the attention your ass gets, all nice and striped – my own little zebra!” Skinner grinned, and kissed his slave’s forehead. “Now, bend over, Fox, and I don’t want you to get up again until I’m finished. Understood?”

 

“Yes, Master.” Mulder muttered, angling his face hopefully for a kiss. Skinner laughed, and patted his cheek.

 

“When we’ve finished you can have your reward, slave,” he told him.

 

Mulder bit on his lip, and lowered himself reluctantly back over the horse. He spread his legs, and pushed his ass out before Skinner could tell him. He felt so exposed, his butt waiting to receive its marking from his Master’s cane. A part of him just wanted to run away from the pain, but some other instinct kept him in place. He saw himself, naked under his Master’s cane, being marked as his Master’s property, and his cock sprang to attention. The next stroke bit deep into his flesh, making him cry out again, but he didn’t move, and kept his ass in place to accept the next sharp, stinging caress from the cane. The final cut came hard on its heels and Mulder let out a sob of pure pain, tears springing into his eyes.

 

“That’s all, boy.” Skinner helped him to his feet, and Mulder held onto him, shaken. He was immediately enveloped in a pair of reassuringly strong arms. Skinner tilted his chin and looked into his eyes. “Well done, little slave. I’m so proud of you. I know that wasn’t easy. The sting will go soon – no, don’t touch,” Skinner batted Mulder’s hands away from his abused butt again, grabbed them in his own big paw, and held them behind his slave’s back. Then he dipped his head, and opened his slave’s mouth with his own, holding Mulder tight, his mouth plundering his slave’s with passionate force. Mulder melted against that strong chest, and surrendered to his Master’s kiss, loving it, losing himself in it. Then Skinner marched him over to the mirror in the cupboard.

 

“Look at how beautiful you are. This is how our guests will see you.”

 

Mulder looked over his shoulder at his buttocks, and gave a gasp of surprise. Skinner had placed the marks at evenly spaced intervals, imprinting them with perfect precision on his flesh. Six clear, distinct welts were raised on his ass, each of them the same length. Skinner hadn’t made the novice’s error of ‘wraparound’, of lashing the end of the cane around his thigh. The marks stopped at the edge of his buttocks, all in perfect, synchronous lines. Mulder was astounded. He’d never seen a more accurate job with the cane.

 

“Thank me.” Skinner prompted. Mulder fell to his knees, kissed his Master’s feet, and then kissed the proffered cane, shivering slightly as his lips touched the hated, biting wood. He hoped this wasn’t an instrument his Master would use on him too frequently.

 

“Now, I think an hour’s silent reflection before our guests arrive will do you good.” Skinner propelled Mulder back over to the window. “An ass like this, should be displayed I think.” Skinner grinned, slapping Mulder’s sore backside soundly, making his slave yelp.

 

That hour went quickly, and soon Mulder felt his Master’s breath on the back of his neck, and his hands on his arms, caressing softly.

 

“Time, Fox. Our guests will be here shortly. How are you?” Skinner turned him around to face him. Mulder looked into those dark eyes and trembled.

 

“I’d rather be out chasing mutants, or facing down Big Foot, Master,” he admitted, making a face.

 

Skinner laughed. “You’ll do fine,” he said firmly. “Just keep your eyes on me the whole time, or on the floor. I have every confidence in you, sweetheart. Hell, I’ve been training you solidly for a week now. You’ve come a long way. Your old tops aren’t going to recognize you.”

 

He kissed Mulder’s forehead, then attached the leash to the chain hanging from his nipple rings.

 

“Follow me,” he instructed.

 

Mulder fell into step instantly behind his Master. After only a few days, it already felt like an old habit, an instinct, something ingrained deep in his soul. It helped that Skinner’s ass was framed beautifully in his tight black leather trousers, the two taut globes of flesh jostling inside the fabric, like some kind of ripe fruit, offered up for the plucking. Mulder felt his cock react appreciatively to the sight. He resisted the impulse to grab his Master’s buttocks, and sink his teeth into them, but that was pretty much all that was on his mind as he followed along behind.

 

The upstairs lounge was all laid out ready for their guests, with peanuts, pretzels, and other nibbles on the various coffee tables. There was a pile of crudités and dips stacked untidily on one side.

 

“Master – shouldn’t we make more room for these?” Mulder asked.

 

Skinner glanced at him. “Fox – you’re in deep submission. Don’t speak again unless spoken to. As for the dips, leave them where they are. I have plans for them later.”

 

Mulder dropped his head, and gazed at the floor, trying to recapture the serenity he’d found in deep submission before, and trying even harder to ignore the way his heart was beating so fast in his chest.

 

The small galley kitchen had been turned into a bar, with drinks and glasses laid out. Mulder had already been informed that he would serve his guests with their beverages of choice when they first arrived. At that moment the doorbell chimed, and Mulder’s heart flipped wildly. He looked up, wanting nothing more than to bolt wildly out of the door. Skinner placed a hand on his head, and tipped it back down to look at the floor.

 

“Remember who and what you are, slave,” he said in a low, sexy growl.

 

Mulder’s cock skyrocketed at the same time as his heart plunged and they met somewhere about midway. Skinner opened the door, and greeted someone – Mulder wasn’t sure who as he had his eyes down. His Master turned, and handed him two coats, and he scurried off obediently to his bedroom with them, leash in his mouth, ignoring the jingle of the hated bells as he walked. He returned to Skinner’s side, and was told what drinks to bring from the kitchen. He did as he was ordered, returned with the drinks, and knelt in front of their guests, holding up the tray with the drinks on them.

 

“Hmmm, most impressive,” a man remarked.

 

Mulder recognized the voice as belonging to JM Lucas, one of the top players on the DC scene. He had never played with the man, although he knew him well, and had spoken to him at several parties. It was Lucas who had finally agreed to set up the meeting with Skinner. Mulder relaxed. He had no history with Lucas, who only played with women. “I like the way you have him decorated,” Lucas laughed. “I must do something similar with my own sub, sometime.”

 

“Stand up, Fox, and show them your markings,” Skinner ordered. Mulder obeyed, shaking as he got to his feet, and turned around. Skinner’s fingers brushed lightly over his welted backside, as he displayed him to their guest. Mulder held still, hardly daring to breathe.

 

“Very nice!” Lucas whistled. “You’ve outdone yourself, Walter!”

 

“Thanks. It was a pleasure,” Skinner grinned at Mulder, and kissed his slave’s head, then clicked his fingers. Mulder knelt immediately beside his Master, in the submissive mode, head down, shoulders straight.

 

“An excellent level of obedience. I’m impressed,” Lucas murmured. “You achieved all this in just a week, Walter? I’d have said this boy was untrainable.”

 

“Clearly not.” Skinner patted Mulder’s head fondly. “I won’t say that it was easy, but with patience, and a healthy dose of discipline, we got there, didn’t we, Fox?”

 

Mulder looked up. “Yes, Master,” he said, then he put his head down again.

 

“Amazing,” Lucas mused, clearly astounded. “I’m pleased you’ve decided to throw a party, Walter. Your parties are always legendary – perhaps because they’re such a rarity. That amazing Playroom you have…I hope you’ll be treating us to one of your demonstrations later on.”

 

“Of course,” Skinner grinned, sipping at the glass of fruit juice his slave had brought for him.

 

The other guests arrived quickly, one after the other, and everybody was assembled by 8:30. Mulder guessed that nobody would dare be late to one of Skinner’s parties. He recognized some of his old tops among the guests, but his Master kept him too busy running around with coats, and fetching drinks to be worried by them. People were dressed in the usual scene costumes, and there were a variety of outfits on display. Some were in rubber, some in PVC. There were vamps, virgins, stern Masters, corseted Mistresses, even a couple of transvestites. There was, in short, an endless variety of clothing, and that was just the point. Everybody but Mulder was fully dressed. His solitary naked condition stood out like a sore thumb.

 

When everybody had a drink in their hands, Skinner clapped his hands for silence. That was when the pit of anxiety opened up in Mulder’s stomach. Conversely, he felt amazingly alive and alert at the same time, completely preoccupied with watching out for his Master’s slightest command, relishing every small caress.

 

“Welcome, friends,” Skinner said. “I’m holding this party to introduce my new slave to you, and to display him for your appreciation. I’ve been working him hard, training him for tonight, so I hope you enjoy looking at him. I’ve already told you not to touch, and I know you’ll all respect that. Fox, stand up.”

 

Skinner took the leash out of his slave’s mouth, and drew him into the center of the room.

 

“Take a good look everyone!”

 

An appreciative murmur spread around the assembled audience, and Mulder closed his eyes, flushing bright red. He could see a blur of bodies – all of them clothed, while he stood here, stark naked, and chained, being scrutinized. It was so…humiliating. “As you can see, I’ve pierced him, and decorated him with signs of my ownership. His collar bears my insignia,” Skinner traced his fingers over the gold collar around Mulder’s neck. “He’s parceled up prettily for his Master,” Skinner grinned, his fingers touching the gold cock ring. Mulder’s cock jumped involuntarily, and the audience laughed.

 

“Looks like he’s responsive to his Master’s touch!” someone shouted.

 

“Of course. I told you – he’s been very well trained,” Skinner replied, with a deep laugh. “He bears the signs of my ownership, because he’s my property. Fox and I have exchanged contracts,” he told the assembled audience solemnly. There was a muttered response, as people digested the implications of this statement. “He is my slave, and I am his Master. He belongs to me; body, heart, mind and soul. Isn’t that so, Fox?” Skinner asked.

 

Mulder licked his lips, his mouth having suddenly gone completely dry. “Yes, Master,” he managed to whisper.

 

“Louder, Fox, they can’t hear you, and I don’t want there to be any mistake about this,” Skinner told him.

 

“Yes, Master. I’m yours. I belong at your feet,” Mulder replied. Then, acting completely on impulse, he knelt at Skinner’s feet, and kissed his shiny leather shoes. A hush descended over the party guests, and Mulder heard a few heartfelt sighs, and at least one “awww,” of appreciation.

 

“All right, little one.” Skinner drew his slave back up to a standing position, and kissed his lips softly. “The purpose of this party was partly to show my beautiful slave to you all, and also, by doing this, to remind you that this particular creature is off limits to all of you from now on. If he should approach you, which I very much doubt he’ll do, then you should inform me immediately. He isn’t free to choose his partners any more. He belongs to me, and will serve only me. If anyone touches him, or propositions him, then they’ll have me to deal with.”

 

Mulder looked at his Master, a feeling of awe washing over him. Skinner’s voice was so determined, and his tone so dangerous, that it sent a thrill running through his body. He could tell, glancing around the room, that some of the other subs there were equally enamored with his Master, and he fought back a wave of jealousy. He felt the bubble they had existed in for the past week, all alone in the apartment, being burst as outside reality intruded in. Skinner had the right to take other subs, or slaves, if he wished. Mulder did not. That was implicit in the terms of their contract. Mulder wondered if he was interesting enough to hold his Master’s attention, and the jealousy inside his gut settled into a seething rage. If anyone made so much as the slightest move on his Master, they would answer for their audacity.

 

“I’m sure you all know the difference between a slave and a sub,” Skinner continued. “A slave is property. He has signed away his rights to his Master. As an outward sign of this commitment, Fox wears my ring.”

 

Skinner picked up Mulder’s hand, and kissed his ring finger tenderly.

 

“He’s mine to punish, mine to love, mine to do what I like with. He has no rights of his own. He has given himself to me freely, and I wanted to show you all what a beautiful thing it is when this happens. When a person willingly gives himself to a Master, or Mistress, and enters into a state of complete submission, and devotion. It’s not an easy life, and I’m sure Fox will tell you that during this initial week of training, he’s been on the receiving end of some harsh discipline, but he’s learned, and he’s learned well. I’m proud of him.” Skinner wrapped his arms around his slave, and for a moment, Mulder felt as if he’d been transported to heaven. To be praised, and admired, in front of all these people. Suddenly he understood what Skinner had meant when he’d told him he should be proud to be displayed to his former tops in this way, as an example of what the right Master could achieve, and to show how they had so signally failed him. Mulder glowed.

 

“When I first told my slave he would be wearing these decorations,” Skinner flicked at Mulder’s bells, “he wasn’t very happy about it.” A laugh went around the audience. “However, I think they’re very pretty. Fox, prance for your guests – let them all admire you,” he ordered.

 

Mulder looked at his Master, appalled, a mute plea in his eyes, but Skinner just slapped his butt, daring Mulder to disobey. Mulder clenched and unclenched his fists, then stepped forward and…pranced. He shook his body, so that the hated bells pealed, and rang, and an appreciative round of applause went up from the audience.

 

“Good boy!” Skinner kissed him again, and Mulder heaved a sigh of relief that this particular humiliating ordeal was over with, although somehow, he was sure that there would be more before the night was through. “All right, little one, I think our guests need some time to mingle, and enjoy themselves before the demonstration I’ll be laying on later. Please, everyone, help yourself to food and drink. Fox, here, will serve you all by acting as a table for the next half an hour. I’ll put the dips on his back, and you can help yourselves. Crudités are on the coffee table over here.” Skinner pointed, and Mulder’s heart sank as he was made to kneel on all fours, and his Master placed bowls full of various dips on his back. He wanted to protest, but somehow his voice wouldn’t work. Instead he settled down without a murmur.

 

“All right, Fox?” Skinner asked, tapping his head. Mulder looked up, and drowned in his servitude. He was surprised to find that it was all right. It was more than all right. His whole body was suffused with a kind of sexual excitement he didn’t think he’d ever experienced before in his life. To be so totally owned, so completely subject to his Master’s will, to embrace his own submission so comprehensively…it made every nerve ending in his body tingle. He wanted to impress his Master, to serve him, and more than anything else, he wanted to be rewarded by his Master’s smiles, and caresses, and for the evening to end with his Master taking him to his bed, and allowing him to sleep there. Mulder nodded.

 

“Yes, Master,” he whispered, and then he put his head down again.

 

“Good. This is for half an hour. You must stay completely still and not dislodge the pots, but you’ve done longer than this in training so you should be fine,” and so saying, Skinner left him, and circulated amongst their guests.

 

Mulder tried to work out why he was so turned on by this. Being Skinner’s slave in private was one thing, but being seen to be his Master’s slave, visibly showing his submission, and his training, submitting to this most humiliating of experiences somehow worked at some deep level in his psyche. He wasn’t sure how or why. Usually, in his real life, he hated being humiliated, or shown up. It happened so often during his career, from being called “Spooky”, to the way he was talked about in the canteen, and jeered at by jerks like Tom Colton. On such occasions it was all he could do to keep his notoriously fiery temper in check. Yet with Skinner it was different. With a jolt of surprise, he realized that with Skinner it had always been different. He remembered the time when he’d barged in on his boss during a meeting. Skinner had allowed him into his office, knowing he would be humiliated, and had made his errant agent stand there, and state why he was protesting his current assignment. Mulder treasured that memory. Skinner had been so hard, so uncompromising – he had used Mulder’s agitated state, and brought him down, forced him into submission, his eyes boring into his subordinate’s soul. Even then, all those years ago, Mulder had thrilled to the moment, and had gone and jacked himself off, even while trying hard not to figure out why this was such a turn on for him. If it had been anyone else…if it had been someone like Kersh for example, it would have given him no pleasure at all, but with Skinner… Mulder saw a truth he hadn’t admitted to himself before: he had been attracted to his Master for a very long time.

 

Mulder was so deep in thought that he barely noticed the constant milling of people around his back, as they discussed whether the salsa dip tasted nicer than the guacamole. On a couple of occasions he felt cold dollops of the various dips drop on his back, accompanied by a muttered “oops,” and while one part of him squirmed in humiliation, another part just accepted it all serenely, as his due. His eyes continuously followed his Master around the room, drawn to the big man’s leather clad form wherever he went. He saw him laughing, animated, totally alive, in a way the other man rarely was in their working environment. Skinner was a man who understood control, Mulder realized. He understood how to control himself, those under his command, and his slave. The man was a master at it. Mulder smiled to himself. His Master. Skinner was his master, and he was suddenly sure that there wasn’t a sub in the room who didn’t envy him, as he knelt here, acting as a piece of goddamn furniture of all things, his body marked with so many different signs of his Master’s ownership.

 

Skinner removed the dips on the very second that the thirty minutes were up, and wiped Mulder’s stained back with a washcloth, then led him around the room, as he continued to circulate. Mulder knelt whenever Skinner stopped, and got to his feet and followed meekly to heel whenever Skinner walked. His Master kept introducing him, fondling him, showing him off to his friends, and extolling his virtues as a slave, punctuating every order with a kiss or caress, barely able to keep his hands off his slave, and Mulder responded in kind, loving the attention.

 

After half an hour or so of this, Skinner ordered his slave to kneel submissively in the corner. Mulder did as he was told, reveling in his submission. He was used to being on the outside, looking in, so this wasn’t much different, and he was pleased that Skinner was so proud of him. The unusual feeling of being admired had gone to his head, and transported him to a different place entirely. He was feeling so happy and serene that he was surprised when a voice broke into his reverie.

 

“Looks like you’ve got your Master well trained,” it said.

 

Mulder glanced up from under his eyelashes. He saw a man, at least a decade younger than himself. The kid was beautiful: that was the only word for him. Almond shaped brown eyes, set in an olive skin, and an amazing shock of thick, long black hair, dyed blond at the tips. He was dressed in a tight, leopard-skin vest, and ass-hugging, black velvet jeans that showed off his lithe, graceful body. He held himself like a dancer, and he was sneering haughtily at Mulder.

 

“He thinks he’s in charge, but I’ll bet you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger,” the youth continued. “Isn’t that the way with Masters? We manipulate them into giving us what we like? My Master’s that fat guy over there – see.” He pointed with his finger, and Mulder couldn’t resist taking a peek. The youth laughed at his disobedience. “He won’t be my Master much longer. I’ve seen something I like better, and you know, I don’t think much of the competition,” the youth smirked. “Oh, I forgot, you’re not allowed to talk, are you? Or to move. That’s a shame – it means you’ll just have to watch while I steal your Master.”

 

He gave Mulder a wink, then slipped gracefully across the floor in Skinner’s direction. Mulder knelt quite still, his mind racing. He didn’t know who the hell the kid was, but he could feel that familiar surge of jealousy rise within. The youth was beautiful, he was young, he was goddamn pushy…and Skinner could take as many slaves as he wanted. Mulder’s hands clenched into fists behind his back. He could see Skinner in his mind’s eye, kissing this man, making love to him, making Mulder watch from the corner as they shared a bed together.

 

Mulder bit down hard on his lip, frozen in time. He watched, unmoving, as the youth laughed extravagantly at something his Master had said, then ran a perfect, tanned hand over his Master’s arm, circled his Master’s biceps…even from this distance, Mulder could see the “wow” that formed on the kid’s lips, and his expressions of delight. Skinner smiled, and they talked for a few minutes. Mulder could feel the heat rising inside him. The other man was still stroking his Master, still touching him…Mulder couldn’t take it any more. He was on the verge of getting up, and doing something really stupid, when Skinner looked in his direction, and clicked his fingers. Mulder was over there like a shot. He elbowed the enemy out of the way, and knelt beside his Master, where he belonged.

 

“All right, ladies and gentlemen,” Skinner clapped his hands again. “I think it’s time for the main event. If you’d like to follow me to the Playroom, I’m going to put on a display, using my slave’s body.” Skinner pointed in the direction of the Playroom, and Mulder was distracted from his jealousy by the ominous sound of that announcement. He followed his Master obediently, glaring at the kid who laughed at him, and licked his lips lasciviously, in the direction of Skinner’s leather clad buttocks.

 

“He’s going to forget all about you by the time I’m through with him, sugar,” the youth hissed, as he pushed past Mulder.

 

The Playroom was soon filled with a jostling throng of BDSM players – the best on the scene. Those who hadn’t been there before, wandered around, awe-struck, looking in the cupboards and admiring the hoist, and harness which were both out, ready and waiting, much to Mulder’s concern. He was even more concerned when he saw the enormous bullwhip Skinner was holding.

 

His Master strode into the center of the Playroom, and snapped the bullwhip, making a cracking sound that provoked a roar of delighted admiration. Skinner clicked his fingers, and Mulder found himself obeying on instinct, his legs moving him to his Master’s side of their own volition, his mind screaming frantically that he should turn around and run. His outward demeanor gave no hint of this internal struggle though. He knelt beside Skinner, and leaned into the soothing caress his Master gave him.

 

“As a sign of his commitment to me, Fox is going to undergo a very special, transformation ceremony,” Skinner announced. Mulder swallowed, hard. He was? “In the old days, when people entered into a monastery, or convent, their hair was ceremoniously shaved to symbolize their new commitment. The transformation of the body can represent the transformation of the soul, the putting aside of the old life, and embracing the new. That is what Fox is going to demonstrate today. I’ve been training him all week to undergo this particular ceremony. It will be the culmination of our work, symbolizing, both to him, and to me, and witnessed by all of you, that he has chosen to enter into my service as my slave, and he has put his old life behind him. He won’t be going back,” Skinner said that with such a note of finality that Mulder looked up, surprised.

 

“During the first few days of a new slave contract, there’s always a period of wariness, when the slave worries about his decision, and maybe the Master wonders what he’s taken on. Many contracts collapse under the weight of expectation, or fear. Fox and I have weathered a couple of crises during our first week, but that’s behind us now. He knows what to expect from me, and I from him. The ceremony I will perform next, is symbolic of our commitment to the future – he as my property, me as his Master. Fox, hold out your hands.”

 

Mulder did as he was told, and Skinner strapped the cuffs around his wrists, then fastened him, carefully, into the harness, checking each strap, and fastening thoroughly, in an unhurried manner, oblivious to his audience. When he’d finished, he attached Mulder to the hoist, and swung him into the air. It was only then, suspended in mid-air, that Mulder saw the shaving apparatus on the table. His Master had told him that he liked his hair. He’d promised him he wouldn’t shave his head. Was he going to renege on that promise? Mulder couldn’t even being to imagine what Scully would say if he arrived at work on Monday morning with a shaved head.

 

Skinner left him hanging there for a while.

 

“Admire my slave,” he commanded his audience, turning Mulder around so that they could all get a good look at his naked body. “Witness his marking.” Mulder felt Skinner’s finger on his buttocks. He flushed bright red – this was soembarrassing. “My slave was caned not because he had disobeyed me, but as a demonstration of my skill, and his obedience, and also…” Skinner lowered his voice conspiratorially, “because an ass like this,” he pinched Mulder’s butt, “should bear its Master’s imprint, dontcha think?” A laugh greeted this statement, and a mini round of applause rippled around the room. Mulder knew Skinner to be many things, but he’d never seen evidence of the showman in his Master before.

 

Skinner swung the harness down, and arranged Mulder so that he was lying at a tilted angle, on his back, the whole of the front of his body clearly visible to the audience.

 

“All right, little one,” Skinner murmured, reassuring his slave with a kiss. “I’ve been preparing you for this all week. The stroking?” he reminded Mulder. “There was a method in my madness.”

 

Mulder suddenly understood. It wasn’t his head his Master was going to shave – it was his body, and he was going to use a…Mulder’s balls tried to fight their way back into his body as he saw the cut-throat razor lying on the table. He remembered his own failed attempts at shaving the balloon. Please god, let Skinner be more skilled with that razor that I am…

 

“My slave will keep perfectly still throughout this procedure,” Skinner announced. “He’s used to his Master touching his body, and understands that it’s his Master’s wish that he be clean shaven. I’m going to confine myself to his torso, and the area between his neck,” Skinner gestured, “and his thighs.” Mulder heaved a sigh of relief. At least his arms and legs were to be spared this particular humiliation.

 

He watched, nervously, as Skinner approached, and began lathering his groin, chest, and armpits with shaving cream. Then his Master picked up the razor, and began to scrape away the hair on his body. Mulder was used to being tickled and stroked, but even so, it took all his willpower not to wriggle or squeal as the razor went about its work, shaving under his arms, then down over his chest. It removed the line of hair leading from his navel to his groin, and then Skinner paused, and grinned at his audience, flourishing the razor as he approached his slave’s balls. Mulder gave a squeak of alarm, as he felt the sharp edge of the razor on that particular part of his anatomy. The entire room seemed to hold its breath as Skinner worked, slowly and painstakingly, disposing of swathes of dark hair into a dish on the table. Mulder was trembling with the effort of keeping still now. He wanted to scream, and kick out at every tiny caress of that vicious instrument as it carefully worked on the most sensitive part of his body. He knew he mustn’t move though – if he did, one small flick of that razor could cause the most unpleasant damage. So he stayed perfectly still. Finally, finally, it was over. Skinner washed the foam from his body, and he looked down on his newly shaved body. His penis was pink and shriveled, bereft of its usual dark nest. It reminded Mulder of one of those sphinx cats, born without fur.

 

“Beautiful.” Skinner ran his hand over the smooth flesh. Then he poured some lotion onto Mulder’s chest, and worked it into the skin. When he was finished, he turned Mulder over, and his slave realized that his Master hadn’t finished yet. His legs were spread, and he was placed in a bent position, his butt exposed to the room. Mulder flushed – this was the most embarrassing position he’d been placed in so far. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the knowledge that the entire room had a good view of his most private of private parts. Skinner lathered the cream over his ass cheeks, and upper thighs, then set to work again. He didn’t stop until he’d shaved his slave’s butt completely, then he washed it down, and gently rubbed lotion onto the flesh.

 

A round of applause broke out, and some cheering. Mulder heaved a sigh of relief. A part of him enjoyed all the attention being focused solely on him, while another part was curled up in a little ball inside his mind, desperately hoping he’d be able to live it all down, and actually look all these people in the eye again one day. Skinner finished caressing his slave’s butt, and lowered him gently to the ground. Mulder looked down on his naked body. There wasn’t one cut, not even the slightest nick.

 

“58.” Skinner whispered, as he unfastened Mulder from the harness. “In case you’re wondering.”

 

“58 what, Master?” Mulder asked, confused.

 

“58 balloons to get this good.” Skinner grinned, winking at him. Mulder laughed out loud. He actually felt rather proud of his shaved body. There was something silky about it, and he liked the way it made his cock look so clean and pink. “Here’s my slave, Fox, newly shriven in celebration of his status,” Skinner announced, presenting Mulder to the room. There was another round of applause, and Mulder noticed that the kid in the leopard skin vest was giving him a glare worthy of his own dear Master.

 

“Now for the next part of the demonstration,” Skinner said. “Fox, go and fetch my bullwhip.” Mulder looked at his Master, wide-eyed, but obeyed anyway. He picked the long whip up in his mouth, and took it back to his Master, trying to balance it so that neither end trailed as he walked. He knelt in front of Skinner, offering it up, and Skinner took the whip from his slave.

 

“Remove my sweater,” Skinner ordered. Mulder did as he was told, carefully taking his Master’s glasses off first, and returning them again afterwards. He noticed that the audience all seemed most appreciative of his Master’s physique – the kid was positively ogling him. Mulder felt a growl rise in the back of his throat. Luckily his Master distracted him at that moment by handing him a piece of paper.

 

“Take this, and go and kneel at the far end of the room,” Skinner ordered. Mulder did as he was told. “Hold up the paper, and kneel perfectly still, slave,” Skinner instructed. Mulder did as he was told, trembling slightly. He had no idea how skilled Skinner was with that whip, but it took all his nerve not to move, as his Master raised his arm, and swirled the whip into the air, and then forward in his direction. There was a sharp crack.

 

Mulder closed his eyes, fearing the worst, waiting to feel the whip tearing into his flesh. When nothing happened he opened his eyes to find that instead of holding one piece of paper, he was holding two: the whip had sliced the paper right down the center. Another round of applause broke out, and Skinner clicked his fingers as he took a bow. Mulder returned to his Master’s side, wondering what other displays of skill the big man had up his sleeve. He soon found out. Skinner placed a hat on his head, and ordered him back over to the other side of the room. Mulder knelt again, perspiring, and discovered the new sensation of sweat rolling down his underarms, as there was no hair to soak it up. He waited, watching as Skinner paced around, cracking the whip into the air, his biceps rippling as he moved. Then his Master was still. He looked at Mulder, concentrated for a few seconds, and then swung the whip forward. It cracked in mid-air again, and Mulder felt the merest whisper on his head, and then the hat went flying. Another round of applause greeted this display. Mulder knelt quite still, waiting until the thumping stopped in his chest, then he got weakly to his feet, and returned to his Master’s side.

 

“Master is…magnificent,” he whispered, kneeling and kissing Skinner’s feet in total adoration. The image of his Master, standing bare-chested, wearing those tight black leather trousers, and whirling that long, vicious whip above his head, was one that would stay with him for the rest of his life. It was his every fantasy made flesh. Mulder was overcome.

 

“To finish off the proceedings,” Skinner told the assembled multitude, “my slave would like to address his previous tops, and to apologize for any rudeness in the way he behaved during his time serving them.”

 

“I would?” Mulder looked up in dismay.

 

“Yes. You would.” Skinner grinned at him. He picked up Mulder’s lead, and led him over to a small, stocky man, who had his arms around another man. Both were dressed entirely in bright blue rubber.

 

Skinner clicked his fingers, and Mulder knelt, mutinously, in front of his old top. Skinner nudged him with his foot.

 

Mulder cleared his throat. “I’d like to say…I’m sorry,” he whispered.

 

“Kiss Jackson’s feet.” Skinner prompted. Mulder obeyed. “What is the lesson you learn during your morning discipline?” Skinner asked. “Repeat it, please, Fox.”

 

“I belong to you…” Mulder looked up at his Master, and suddenly understood what was required of him. “I am now the property of Walter Skinner. Thank you for your kind attention in the past, sir,” he said.

 

“That’s okay, Mulder.” Jackson grinned down at him. “It was always a pleasure. You were cute, if a goddamn handful. I’m glad you’re Walter’s problem now, not mine!”

 

Skinner took him to the next top. She was a beautiful, buxom woman, with dark golden hair, wide hips, and vivacious blue eyes. She was one of the first tops who’d taken pity on him when he arrived in DC, and he’d almost fallen in love with her. She had a smart, well-behaved, handsome sub at her side. Mulder was pleased for her. She deserved someone nice.

 

“Elaine, thank you for being so kind to me,” he told her sincerely. “I know I behaved like a brat, and ran out on you. I’m sorry.” He kissed her feet. “I’m now the property of Walter Skinner,” he announced.

 

Elaine smiled at him, tears in her eyes. “Oh, Mulder, you little darling!” she exclaimed. “Walter, you’ve worked wonders with the boy. He looks so much happier now than when I knew him. I know you’ll take good care of him, my dear.”

 

“You can rely on it,” Skinner nodded to her. He took her hand, and kissed it tenderly, bowing to her. Mulder watched, intrigued. He sensed a history here, and wondered what it was. As Elaine was a dominatrix, who only took men as subs, and as Skinner was a top who preferred male subs…hmmm. Whatever there was between Elaine and Skinner, Mulder wanted to know more. It was inconceivable to him that Skinner had ever been anyone’s sub, so he dismissed that thought out of hand. He wondered if Elaine ever wanted to walk on the wild side, and sub to someone safe, like his Master… He was so busy pondering these mysteries that it took a sharp jerk on the leash to remind him that he had other tops to apologize to. Skinner took him to each and every one of his previous tops, and there were several of them. He made Mulder kneel before them, kiss their feet, apologize for his past behavior, and announce that he was now the property of Walter Skinner.

 

When he’d finished, Skinner pulled him to his feet, stood him in the center of the room, and kissed him soundly. It was a long kiss, a claiming kiss, designed to show everybody in the room that this slave belonged to his Master. Mulder loved every second of it. When it was over, they both received another round of applause.

 

“All right, show’s over. I hope you enjoyed it!” Skinner grinned. He directed Mulder to help him back into his sweater, and then returned to the lounge. He placed Mulder in the submissive position again, and then went to get a drink. It was at that moment that a pair of shiny PVC boots stopped right in front of him.

 

“Aw, poor, shaven, little bunny rabbit,” the kid sneered. “Made to apologize to all the people he’s ever fucked for being such a lousy lay.”

 

“Fuck. Off.” Mulder muttered in an undertone.

 

“Oh, it speaks!” the kid said in an outraged falsetto. “And it doesn’t have anything to say for itself. How sad. How bored the bunny rabbit’s Master must be. Did you ever see that film, Fatal Attraction, little slaveboy? Did you see what happened to the bunny in that? That’s what’s going to happen to you, honey. Your Master isn’t going to look twice at his bunny after he’s tasted Lee. You watch.” And so saying, Lee made a beeline for Skinner who was just emerging from the kitchen with two drinks in his hand. Skinner said something to the youth, and continued walking over to Mulder. Lee followed. Skinner held a drink to Mulder’s lips, and he drank, eagerly. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was. Lee was simpering, sidling up against his Master.

 

“That demonstration with the bullwhip really impressed me,” Lee purred. “I’ve never seen anyone so accurate. You could try it out on me, any old time.”

 

“I’m sure your Master would have something to say about that,” Skinner told his admirer.

 

“Oh, I’m sure he’d love to watch,” Lee winked.

 

“The bullwhip leaves an almighty sting. I wouldn’t use it on anyone but my own slave.” Skinner fondled Mulder’s head fondly. Mulder wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or dismayed by that piece of news. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have someone I need to speak to,” Skinner smiled affably, and left.

 

Lee smirked down at Mulder. “It’s just a matter of time, honey,” he said.

 

“Leave him the fuck alone or…” Mulder began, looking anxiously out of the corner of one eye to make sure Skinner was out of earshot.

 

“Or what? You can’t do anything, sugar, your Master’s got you hobbled! Lee grinned. “Which leaves the field clear for me. After all, why would he want a weak, obedient piece of shit like you, when he could have someone with balls, someone who’s more fun, someone who’d be a real challenge to him!” He sauntered off in the direction of the bathroom.

 

Something inside Mulder snapped. The place was thronging with guests. He only needed a couple of minutes alone with that little jerk, and he’d soon scare him off. He saw Skinner talking animatedly to a group of his friends. Everyone else was busy chatting, and drinking. Nobody was looking at him. He stood up, and moved noiselessly towards the bathroom. He waited outside, and when Lee emerged a few seconds later, he grabbed his neck, and pushed him back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind them.

 

“Listen to me, you little shit. Skinner’s mine. You don’t touch him. Nobody touches him.”

 

“Oh, funny, I thought you belonged to him, not the other way around,” Lee sneered.

 

“I don’t give a fuck what you thought. He’s mine. Go near him again, and I’ll damn well kill you,” Mulder snapped. He was so angry, he couldn’t even think straight. Lee had called him weak, he had sneered at the submissive state Mulder had been so proud of being able to achieve, and which he’d worked so hard at. Worse than that, he had tapped into Mulder’s fears of inadequacy, the insecurity that still dogged him from his relationship with Phoebe, by suggesting that his Master might be bored by him.

 

“Yeah, right. The shaven, collared, ringed…belled,” Lee reached out a finger and flicked at the bells contemptuously, “slave, is really scaring me now!” Lee laughed. Mulder’s fists went into action before he could stop himself. He swung a right hook at Lee’s jaw, knocking him back against the toilet, and then jumped on top of the prone man, and pummeled him repeatedly in the stomach. Suddenly his fists stopped working – someone had grabbed his arms from behind.

 

“Stop that, now!” a low, growling voice barked in his ear. “Is this what you call obedience, Fox. Is it?”

 

Mulder’s heart sank, and all the fight went out of him. He could hardly bear to look into his Master’s angry brown eyes. He took a step back, and looked down on his whimpering tormentor.

 

“He’s been winding me up all fucking evening,” he fumed at Skinner.

 

His Master clicked his fingers, but Mulder ignored him. He drew himself up to his full height, and glared back at Skinner. “Don’t give me that submissive crap. This bastard has been rubbing himself up against you all night. Every time your back is turned he comes over and taunts me. You can’t damn well expect me to stand by and watch some stupid kid fawning all over you. It’s not fucking fair!” Mulder ranted. “I’m not a machine, Skinner. I’ve done everything you asked me to, I…” He trailed off, as he took in his Master’s body language. Skinner was standing with his hands on his hips, his face dark with anger. “Shit…I’m in real trouble now, aren’t I?” Mulder asked miserably.

 

“Yes, you are. Now kneel down and shut up, and I’ll see if I can limit the damage you’ve caused,” Skinner snapped. Mulder opened his mouth to protest again, but he felt like a kid in the school playground, saying “it was all his fault, sir, not mine,” and it sounded lame, even to his own ears. He got down on his knees, his eyes still rebellious, and watched as Skinner crouched down beside the kid, and examined his cut lip.

 

“You’ll live, Lee.” Skinner said, his tone almost amused as Lee continued to sob. “Get up, you’ll be fine.” Skinner helped the other man to his feet.

 

“You can’t just let him…” Mulder began. Skinner silenced him with a glare. “Fox – heel, and put that damn leash in your mouth – maybe that’ll shut you up. Follow me, keep very quiet, and listen carefully,” Skinner told him. “Lee, this way.” He put his arm around the kid, and ushered him back to his Master, singling him out of the crowd and taking him into a private corner. “Lee has behaved very badly this evening,” Skinner told the fat man. Lee’s head spun around in dismay. “Please take him home. He isn’t welcome here any more. And, Mike, when you get him home, see that you give him the worst punishment he’s ever had,” Skinner instructed. Mike raised an eyebrow at Lee, took hold of him by the arm, and dragged him away. Mulder watched them go, then glanced up at his Master.

 

“Thank you,” he mumbled.

 

“I told you that if you were in any distress, you could speak to me at any time,” Skinner snapped. “You chose not to do that. You chose instead to disobey me.”

 

“I know. I’m sorry,” Mulder sighed.

 

“No you’re not, but you will be,” Skinner warned ominously. “Now, you’re just damned lucky that all took place in private. I’ll deal with you properly later, but for now, I think I have a way of keeping your mind focused in one place.”

 

He disappeared in the direction of the Playroom, and returned a few seconds later with a length of chain. He attached one end to the chain hanging between Mulder’s nipples, and the other end to his cock ring. Mulder stared down, uncomprehending. The chain was slack, and apart from being a nice piece of decoration, it didn’t seem to serve any other function. “Submissive position – now!” Skinner ordered. Mulder put his head down, and pulled his shoulders up straight, and then gasped in pain, as the slack chain became taut. It only exerted the tiniest pressure on his sore nipples, but it was enough to damn well hurt. “Keep your shoulders back – if they slacken, I’ll notice. I’ll be watching you,” Skinner warned. “Now kneel there, like that, until the party’s over.”

 

“Yes, Master,” Mulder whispered. His nipples hurt like hell, but he knew that was all his own fault, and no less than he deserved.

 

Mulder knelt in abject misery for another half an hour or so. He had fucked everything up. He had been so close to achieving his goal of spending a night in his Master’s bed, and now he knew that wouldn’t happen. He bit back the tears of anger, frustration, and sheer disappointment, but two escaped, and crept silently down his cheeks. He couldn’t even move his hands to wipe them away, as Skinner would be sure to notice.

 

Their guests began to leave, and soon there was only Skinner and a couple of his closest friends left, including J M Lucas, and Elaine. Skinner returned to his slave, and undid the chain that was tormenting his nipples. Mulder breathed a sigh of relief.

 

“All right, Fox?” Mulder looked up in surprise. His Master’s tone was gentle, and loving. His big fingers caressed away the wetness on Mulder’s cheeks, and dropped a kiss on his mouth. “Come on, little one, you must be tired. We’re going to sit down and talk for a while. You can join us.”

 

Skinner led him over to the couch and sat down, then pointed at the floor beside his feet. “Any position you like, just relax,” he told his slave. Mulder nodded, and rested his head on his Master’s knee, looking up at the other man adoringly. It was dark in the room – which was only lit by one lamp, and the flickering orange glow of the flames in the grate. It was peaceful. Mulder sighed. He loved looking at his Master, watching him talk, watching him listen to his friends talking. Skinner’s face looked so familiar, so handsome, the light illuminating the cleft in his jaw, and the golden hue of his skin. Mulder sighed, and moved his head so that he could kiss his Master’s fingers. Skinner smiled, and gently stroked his slave’s head.

 

“You’ve worked wonders with that boy,” Elaine remarked. “Really, Walter, it’s a joy to watch him like this, so happy in his slavery. I’m glad he finally figured out where he belongs,” she smiled at Mulder.

 

“Elaine’s right. He’s just where he should be,” Lucas commented. Mulder thought it was strange the way they were all talking about him as if he wasn’t there. “When he was making a nuisance of himself, pestering me to contact you, throwing himself around the scene, getting himself a reputation, I just despaired of him. Seeing him here tonight, it’s like a miracle. He’s been transformed.”

 

“He just needed a firm hand.” Skinner smiled, ignoring his slave. “He was running out of control. He needed to be brought down.”

 

“And you were just the man to do it,” one of the other men said. Mulder didn’t know his name. He gazed dreamily at his Master, tracing imaginary lines over the other man’s lips. He knew he’d be punished severely for what had happened with Lee, but he didn’t care right at this moment in time. It just felt so good to be sitting here, naked, at his Master’s feet, adoring him.

 

“How did you manage it?” the man continued. “What’s your secret, Walter?”

 

“Discipline, discipline, and more discipline!” Skinner laughed. “No, seriously, lots of hard work, Jeff. The details are between me and Fox. Taking him as a slave, rather than just a sub helped.”

 

“Yes, that was intriguing,” Elaine’s soft, mellow voice. “I have my reservations about 24/7 arrangements usually, but it seems to have worked in this case.”

 

“I agree with you, Elaine,” Skinner said, nodding his head in her direction. “Usually I wouldn’t consider a 24/7 arrangement either. There has to be an enormous degree of trust between the two participants in such an arrangement.”

 

“I didn’t even realize that you even knew Mulder before you took him on,” Jeff commented.

 

“Oh yes. I knew him. I knew him very well,” Skinner chuckled.

 

“I’m of the opinion that lifestyle slavery only works when the Master or Mistress and the slave love each other,” Elaine commented. “Otherwise it can lead to abuse.”

 

“Hmm, take Mike and Lee for example,” Skinner sighed. “That’s a relationship that really isn’t working. There’s no love there at all.”

 

“Oh god, yes. They’re a terrible couple!” Lucas laughed.

 

“What about love, though?” Elaine pushed, clearly worried about this issue. “It seems evident to everyone in the room that your slave is crazy about you, Walter, but how do you feel about him?”

 

Mulder went quite still, his shoulders freezing under his Master’s insistent caress.

 

“Fox’s emotions are new to him, aren’t they sweetheart?” Skinner smiled, and ran his fingers through Mulder’s hair. “I think he’s been surprised by the bond that developed between us, and because his emotions are so new, they sometimes overwhelm him.” He looked at Mulder meaningfully, and his slave bit on his lip, remembering the fight in the bathroom. “For me, well, it’s easier for me to keep my emotions under control – it’s what I’ve been doing for years after all!” Skinner laughed. “Of course I love my slave, Elaine. I’ve known him for six years and I’ve grown to love him more as each one passed. I knew he’d have to come to me – that was the only way we could make it work, but even then I resisted for a long time. Sometimes it’s hard to believe I have the reality after so many years wanting him. He’s the perfect slave, just the right mixture of charm, initiative, challenge, and spirit. What’s the matter, Fox? Were you really in any doubt that I love you?” Skinner asked, noticing his slave’s look of amazement.

 

“I…yes, Master. I didn’t know. I thought I just amused you,” Mulder whispered.

 

Skinner roared with laughter. “Fox, I’ve been in love with you for far longer than you’ve been in love with me, sweetheart,” he sighed. “It’s been a long, lonely road. There have been many times I’ve wanted to take charge of you, and give you what you need. I’m glad you finally managed to ask for it, although I suspect we have many difficulties ahead. Don’t ever doubt that you’re loved, little one.” Skinner leaned forward, and kissed his slave softly on the lips. Mulder melted into his Master’s thigh, his heart pounding. He knew in that second that he could take any punishment his Master gave him because he was loved. He was on cloud nine, far above the stars. He didn’t hear the rest of the conversation as his mind buzzed with this new information. His Master loved him. He loved him…he had loved him for years…Mulder felt warm and safe, and shit, yes, actually happy, in a way he didn’t remember feeling in his life before.

 

When the last of the guests finally left, Skinner commanded him into the confessional position.

 

“Well, slave,” he sighed. “Have you earned your night in my bed?”

 

“No, Master,” Mulder replied in a small voice. “I’m sorry. I let you down.”

 

“Yes, you did. That display of jealousy was petty, and unnecessary. Do you really think I was interested in that stupid kid?”

 

“I don’t know, Master,” Mulder replied. “Are you going to punish me, Master?”

 

“Yes, but I’m going to offer you a choice as to how,” Skinner informed him. Mulder looked up in surprise. “You behaved impeccably apart from that one lapse. I was proud of you, and you saw how impressed my friends were. Tonight was a great success, and you helped to make it so. Now, I know that you wanted to spend the night in my bed, and I’m still prepared to offer you that,” Skinner told him. Mulder’s face broke into a smile, and he scurried forward and kissed his Master’s feet.

 

“Thank you!” he beamed.

 

“Wait – there’s a price,” Skinner said solemnly. “You do have to be punished, Fox. You can either be punished by not sleeping in my bed tonight, or, and I want you to think very carefully about this, you can sleep in my bed, but in the morning I’ll use the bullwhip on you.” Mulder’s heart leaped into his mouth. “The bullwhip is a special punishment,” Skinner continued, “which is why I want you to think about this very carefully. It won’t be an easy thing to endure.”

 

Mulder did think about it, but not for very long. Much as he was scared of the bullwhip, he didn’t know when he’d ever get another chance to spend the night in his Master’s bed. He’d cope with the bullwhip tomorrow, but for tonight, he’d sleep in his Master’s arms.

 

“I want to sleep with you, Master,” he told Skinner.

 

“Are you sure? Be very sure, Fox,” Skinner warned him. “You’ve seen the bullwhip in action.”

 

“I am sure, Master. Please, take me to your bed,” Mulder begged.

 

Skinner’s expression softened, and he broke into a smile. “Very well, sweetheart. Go and run a bath in my en-suite. We’ll share it,” he said.

 

Mulder ran to do his Master’s bidding, and ten minutes later, he was sitting between Skinner’s legs in the big corner bath, soaking up the warm water, relishing the feel of his Master’s arms around his body. He had never felt so relaxed in his life.

 

“Fox, you can come out of deep submission now,” Skinner nuzzled at his ears with his lips. He had already removed his slave’s bells, and the chain linking his nipple rings. “I want you to be yourself. Talk to me. Tell me what you thought of the party – you can be as honest as you like. There won’t be any repercussions for it.” He squeezed Mulder’s chest encouragingly. “How do you like being shaved?” he grinned into Mulder’s ear.

 

“I’m not sure. It’s different,” Mulder grinned back. “Do I have to stay this way forever?”

 

“No, that’s not necessary.” Skinner kissed his head. “However it will make what I intend to do to you tonight nicer for me!”

 

“What’s that, Master?” Mulder asked, craning his head to look up into his Master’s eyes.

 

“I’m going to take you into my mouth, and remind your poor cock what it’s been missing,” Skinner told him. The cock in question immediately leapt to attention. Skinner laughed, and fondled it gently. “I’ll shave you occasionally, when I feel like it, but you don’t have to keep yourself shaved.” Skinner nibbled Mulder’s neck.

 

They talked for half an hour about the party, sharing observations, laughing about the costumes a couple of the guests had been wearing. It was so nice, Mulder thought, to be lying here in the arms of someone he loved, someone who loved him. He didn’t care what the future brought, or about the past. At least he had this one moment in time.

 

They got out of the bath only when the water became cold. Mulder picked up the towel to dry his Master, but Skinner brushed it aside, enveloped both of them in it instead, and dried them both. “Fox.” He looked down into his slave’s eager eyes. “Have you ever had a male lover before?”

 

“What do you mean?” Mulder frowned, confused.

 

“I mean, have you ever been involved with a man who you had plain, old, regular sex with, not just the BDSM variety?” Skinner clarified. Mulder shook his head. “I thought not. Well, tonight, that’s what you’ve got. There’s not going to be any BDSM, there’s just you, and me, two lovers, sharing a bed. That doesn’t mean you’re not still my slave,” Skinner grinned, “just that for tonight, this is how I choose to love you. Go and wait for me in the bed, sweetheart.”

 

Mulder did as he was told, trembling in anticipation. The sheets felt cool against his warm, clean skin. He waited there, until Skinner came into the room. His Master turned off the light, and slipped into the bed beside him. He pulled Mulder into his arms, and held him, kissed him tenderly, in a way no other top had ever kissed him before. His hand stroked Mulder’s body, his fingers rubbing inside him.

 

“We’ll rely on the alarm to wake us tomorrow,” Skinner whispered. “So you’re exempt your normal wake up call.” His head dipped, and he kissed his slave’s throat, and neck, ending up at his abdomen, then disappeared further, down to his groin. Mulder’s cock was already erect by the time Skinner’s warm, wet mouth descended on it. Skinner swallowed him whole, and Mulder gasped out loud, bucking into the expert caress. Skinner’s hands continued to gently stroke and caress his body, while his mouth devoured him. It was too much for Mulder. He ran his hands over his Master’s naked scalp, mewling and whimpering in ecstasy.

 

“Oh, that’s good, Master…oh fuck…Master…oh shit…” and after several days abstinence, Mulder came. And came. And came. He tried to draw back, but Skinner held his thighs close, and devoured every drop. Then he emerged once more, grinning.

 

“Like that?” he asked.

 

“It was wonderful,” Mulder sighed dreamily. He snuggled up close to his Master’s furry chest, and laid there for a long while, just licking and kissing the other man’s body. Skinner’s hands meanwhile kept up their languorous stroking on Mulder’s skin, soothing, and loving him. Mulder could feel his Master’s hard cock digging into his thigh. “Can I take care of this?” he asked, taking the broad length in his hand, and savoring the feel of it.

 

“If you like,” Skinner smiled. “I don’t need any release though, Fox. I’ve had plenty this week.”

 

“I’d like it if…would you…?” Mulder’s hand increased its pressure on his Master’s cock, and he could feel it pulsing into life between his fingers.

 

“What, Fox? What do you want? This is your evening,” Skinner whispered.

 

“I’d like you to make love to me, Master,” Mulder told him. Skinner smiled, and kissed his slave’s forehead.

 

“All right, sweetheart. Lie on your back.”

 

Skinner rolled over, and got a condom out of the night-stand, and put it onto his hard cock. Then he turned back to his slave. He knelt between Mulder’s legs, and inserted a finger inside him. Mulder groaned, and bucked. Skinner inserted another finger, then another, before pushing Mulder’s legs further apart, and gently pushing his cock inside the other man. Mulder stared. He was fascinated by this position, as he had been last time his Master had used it. He loved watching his Master make love to him. He rested both his hands on Skinner’s shoulders, and opened up his body, pulled his Master deep inside him, relishing the power and hard length of his Master’s cock as it made love to him.

 

“Oh god, it’s so good,” Mulder sighed, Skinner’s cock rubbing his prostate into a frenzy of sensation. His Master came, and collapsed on top of Mulder, softening inside his slave. Then he withdrew, and threw the used condom into a dish on his nightstand.

 

Mulder was utterly sated, and spent. It had been the perfect ending to a perfect day. Skinner rolled towards him again, and took him in his arms.

 

“Now sleep, sweetheart. We have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow,” he murmured.

 

“I want this night to last forever.” Mulder didn’t think he’d ever been more relaxed in his life before, all wrapped up in his Master’s loving arms, their naked bodies entwined. Skinner’s flesh was warm and comforting, and his Master occasionally kissed his ear, or nuzzled his neck. He could feel the other man’s chest hair on his back, and the weight of his body pressed against his own.

 

This was where he belonged, this was the only place he could truly call his home. It was his natural environment, and he knew he could never be truly happy anywhere else. With a sigh, Mulder closed his eyes and fell asleep, locked in his Master’s loving embrace.

 

 End of Part 8