Fresh Start Series by DiAnn Date: Thu, 29 Apr 1999 Fresh Start - Part 2 Rating: NC17 - SLASH/ language/ BDSM/ Violence Category: Pure Trash / Discipline / m/m Slash Warning: Scully/ Mulder/ Skinner Slash If you don't like this kind of thing, or you are underage, go somewhere else . . . NOW! I don't want to hear from you and I don't want to hear from your Mama. Spoiler: Very little. Summary: Mulder settles into his new life with his Master . . . and Mistress. I would suggest you read Fresh Start Part One before you read this one. Disclaimer: I do not, nor ever will, own Mulder, Scully, Skinner or anyone else from the X-Files. I am borrowing them without permission and am obviously not receiving money for this stuff. We all know who they really belong to, CC, Fox and lots of other people but again, not me. Fresh Start - Part 2 By: DiAnn Their House Suburbs of DC Fox Mulder sat naked on the cold marble tiles of the well-lighted entry way and contemplated the changes in his life over the past six months. When he had been abducted by the Consortium and taken to one of their retraining facilities he had assumed he would not leave with his life. In a way, he had been correct. The life he had known before no longer existed. On a professional level not much had changed. He still worked on the X-Files, still had Scully as his partner and still reported to Assistant Director Skinner. But personally, he was miles away from the lonely, work obsessed man he had once been. He still maintained his apartment but he was never allowed to stay there. And he no longer lived on coffee and sunflower seeds and he certainly no longer ran off on any wild whims to chase unreliable reports of alien sightings or vague rumors of lost sisters. He now belonged to Walter Skinner. And Scully. Once he and Skinner had returned from their stay at the Consortium Camp, Walter had offered Dana the opportunity to join in their new Dom/sub life. She had been disgustingly enthusiastic to do so. Walter had immediately bought a house, as they called it, on a secluded wooded lot just outside of DC. He had installed the best in security systems and immediately begun remodeling. The largest of the bedrooms now contained a luxurious king-sized bed and three dressers. The bath off the master bedroom had a giant whirlpool tub that was the love of Scully's life. Actually, Mulder was rather found of that tub himself. He shivered with pleasure, as he thought of the last time the three of them had shared a bubble bath. One room has been turned into an office, complete with three matching desks, tons of book shelves and Mulder's fish. And a large-padlocked closet that contained their adventure clothes and an arsenal of state of the art weapons. And then one room . . . one room has been turned into a playroom. A room for Skinner and Scully to enjoy, as they so eloquently put it, their Beautiful Sex Toy . . . Mulder. They had put a lot of time and money into that room. And it seemed to Mulder to be unendingly . Mulder heard a sound at the door and tensed, waiting for one of his Tops to enter the house. After a few minutes, when nothing else happened, he relaxed. Probably a cat or something. He hoped so, any burglar would assuredly get the surprise of his life right now. Mulder had just returned from a night spent breaking into a supposedly closed military base in Indiana. That in itself was not a problem. Since the Assistant Director had made Mulder his sub, no one suspected that the investigation into the activities of the Consortium had actually accelerated. And the rogue agent now had the full cooperation and assistance of both Skinner and Scully. On this particular little foray, Mulder and Scully had hit the jackpot. A disk with the names and addresses of prominent Consortium Members in the military. It was priceless to the resistance of the shadow government. Unfortunately for Mulder, things had not gone as smoothly as they could have. They had just made it to the outside fence, their escape within reach, when the sirens had blasted through the night. Mulder had grabbed his partner, literally throwing her over the barbed wire-topped fence, protecting her from the razor sharp barbs with his own body. As he fought the wire, the guards had found their escape route and opened fire. A bullet torn through the sleeve of his jacket, just before he painfully pulled free of the deadly entangling wire and launched himself over the fence, to join Scully, who already had the motor running in their car. They were gone before the guards could open the gate or climb the wall to pursue them. He had come home with three long bloody gashes across his chest, a bullet graze on his arm, a slight fever and a furious Dana Scully. Only to be met by an extremely worried and then equally angry Walter Skinner. So now, he sat awaiting his fate. Position One. Naked, kneeling on the floor, sitting back on his heels, posture straight, knees spread widely, hands at his side - palms facing outward, head bowed, and eyes on his own fully exposed genitals. The position of total vulnerability. Total submission. And tonight, something new, the feel and smell and taste of the thick strap he held between his teeth. No way to get your mind off your soon to be punished ass when you could taste the leather in your mouth. He really wanted to scratch the healing cuts on his chest but didn't dare move. It would not due to have either his Master or his Mistress come in and find him not in the proper position. Skinner had been very specific with his instructions when he sent Mulder home early. So now he sat, squeaky clean and getting more nervous by the moment. To be owned by someone. It was not a concept that Mulder could completely wrap his mind around, even yet. Skinner controlled every aspect of his personal life. He determined when Mulder ate and how much, what he wore, when he slept and when he could come during sex. Mulder was Skinner's slave and Skinner was Mulder's strict but loving Master. To do with as he pleased, when he pleased and in front of whom he pleased. Mulder knew the game was necessary. It gave Mulder the perfect cover to continue his work against Them. But he also knew that Skinner enjoyed the game immensely and even if the Consortium fell tomorrow, he would still belong to Skinner, body and soul. The game itself, and the secrets that the three of them shared, were highly dangerous. Mulder shivered when he remembered the scene in the Assistant Director's office this afternoon. Assistant Director Skinner's Office Earlier That Day Mulder tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. He had been called to the Assistant Director's office. Just him. Not Scully. That in itself set off Mulder's every alarm button. Skinner almost never asked to see Mulder without Scully. Even when Mulder was in trouble and about to be reprimanded, his boss wanted Scully there. Skinner knew it added to Mulder's embarrassment but also that Scully would usually back up the AD in her errant partner's chastisement. Today he traveled to the fourth floor alone. And truth be told, he was scared. He had no idea what Skinner might do to him and he had no illusions that it would not happen right here in the Hoover Building if the AD so chose. The minute he entered the office, he smelled the smoke. His eyes snapped up to see the hated man sitting in front of Skinner's desk. The Smoking Man smiled at him smugly and Mulder could not help the tremor that ran through his body. "Agent Mulder, this . . . gentleman, seems to think that you spent last night in Indiana. Is that where you were?" "No, Sir. I was with you, Sir." Skinner glared at the man across from him, "As I told you, my control of my slave has not , as you put it. He was not in Indiana, or any other damned place last night, he was with me. Where he belongs." "You say you can control this impudent boy. Prove it." Skinner gritted his teeth, his jaw hardly moving as he spoke. "Strip, Fox." Mulder glanced nervously at his Master from the corner of his eye but Skinner's eyes had never left the Smoking Man. Mulder took a deep breath and reached for his tie. When he was completely naked, he stood before the two men; chin high and hands at his sides. The only way Skinner knew the distress this was causing his young agent was by the two bright red patches that adorned the smooth skin on his high cheekbones. The Smoking man rose and walked around the nude man. "He really is quite beautiful. He gets that from his mother, you know, his father certainly never looked like this." Skinner watched as Mulder's face flushed a little brighter. "You would know that better than I," Skinner sneered. "What happened to his chest?" The smoking man ran a stained yellow fingernail across one of the scratches above Mulder's right nipple, watching as the agent winced. "Don't touch him. He belongs to me." "And, you should thank for that, Mr. Skinner. So what did happen to his chest?" "He was naughty." "You made these marks? And the bandage on his arm?" "He was naughty." "I see. You know, you really shouldn't permanently scar something so beautiful, Mr. Skinner. If you don't know how to take care of the pretty things that are entrusted to your care, someone else would be more than happy to take your place. I have no doubt of that." "There won't be any scars." "Ah, yes. Immediate medical attention from the lovely Dr. Scully. How convenient," he smirked at the AD, "For both of you." Skinner ignored him, "If you've gotten what you want, I suggest you leave my office." "Not quite yet, Mr. Skinner," the man leaned close to Mulder, so close the agent could smell the nicotine breath as it brushed his cheek. "Just how well trained are you, Boy? Position Three, now!" Mulder remained as he was and glanced nervously at Skinner. "He well trained but only to follow my orders. Not yours." The Smoking Man turned furious snake eyes on the man behind the desk. " I would suggest you complete this demonstration of his subservience to you immediately, Mr. Skinner. I would hate to have to report to the others that I have my doubts of your abilities to control Fox." "Do it, Fox. Position Three. You're doing this for me. Only for me. He means nothing to us." Mulder slowly turned his back on the two men and lowered himself to a kneeling position, his knees widely parted. He then leaned forward until his forehead was resting on the carpet, his ass high in the air. He completed the humiliating command by moving his arms straight out from his shoulders, palms facing up. He felt totally exposed and vulnerable. Presenting himself so completely to his sworn enemy. He felt tears of shame running down his cheeks. The man's eyes burned his flesh as they licked hungrily across his prone body. "Very nice. Very nice indeed." The Smoking Man smiled gleefully and reached for his belt buckle. "What do you think you're doing?" "Such a beautiful ass just begs for a little painful attention, don't you think, Mr. Skinner?" "Yes, I do. And it gets plenty of attention. My attention. You will not touch him. I repeat - He. Is. Mine. As I recall, you said so yourself." "This boy still has a wild streak, Mr. Skinner, I can see it in his eyes. Don't risk losing something so lovely. You must be diligent with his discipline." "You need not concern yourself with Fox' discipline or lack thereof. He is a quick student, once you get his attention. Rest assured, have his full attention." "Then punish him yourself. Now. While I watch. Let me see this impressive training technique you claim to have." "No." "Mr. Skinner, I warn you . . . " "You will threaten me in my own office. Fox has done nothing to warrant a whipping and I have no desire to deliver one for my own pleasure at the moment. Fox, go stand in the corner until I release you." Mulder rose and hurried to his preassigned corner, leaning his feverish forehead against the cool wall, trying to calm down and just breathe deeply. He did not want to hyperventilate in front of that man. He remained standing in the corner even after he heard the office door slam behind the irate Smoking Man. After a few minutes, Skinner approached him and pulled his trembling body into his arms. "We knew there would be times like this, Mulder." Skinner took out the ever-present white handkerchief and wiped Mulder's wet face tenderly, "I'm sorry but this was necessary, Fox, and may well happen again. They must believe that our relationship is just as they assume it to be." He pulled the naked man away from his chest, taking Mulder's chin in his large hand, "You should never feel ashamed in these situations, Fox. You are very beautiful and you honor me when others look upon your naked body with lust and envy." He tightened his hold on his agent's chin to emphasize his next words, "But he was right about one thing. You do have another hard lesson to learn tonight. I don't think you should plan on sitting down comfortably for quite some time." Their House Suburbs of DC Mulder was so deep in thought he didn't even hear the door open in front of him. Thank goodness he was still in position. He could tell, just by the way the door opened, which of his lovers was home. Scully. Her only acknowledgment of him was a loving kiss to the back of his bowed head. She walked on toward the kitchen and he could hear the sound of paper rattling as she put away her grocery purchases. So it was to be dinner first. He was not surprised. They were both totally preoccupied with their sex slave's eating habits, which now included lots of green vegetables and absolutely no three-day-old pizza. He really missed that pizza. Mulder flinched as the door opened once more. Skinner. Her felt the man ruffle his hair and give his shoulder an affectionate squeeze as he walked by. Then he heard both of them talking softly in the kitchen. Probably discussing how much punishment was appropriate for an FBI Agent who risked his own life to save that of his partner. "Fox, come into dinner now." He levered himself up from his place on the cold floor. Muscles screaming at the length of time he had stayed in the same cramped and rigid position. "Position Five, Fox." Skinner greeted him as he entered the kitchen, taking the strap from his mouth. Mulder licked his lips but the taste remained. At least dinner smelled delicious. Mulder dropped back to his knees between the chairs that Scully and Skinner would occupy for dinner, at least this time there was a soft pillow waiting there for him. He kept his posture ramrod straight, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. He always had to make a concentrated effort not to reach for things when they chose to feed him his meals. "Permission to speak, Sir?" Skinner glanced over at him, eyebrow raised. "I thought you would be apprehensive enough about tonight's punishment to do as you're told without comment, Fox. What is it you feel you need to say?" "Well . . . I was just wondering . . . could I sit at the table with you tonight. My knees hurt." "No, you may not. If we allowed you to feed yourself tonight, you would just pick at your food and rearrange it on your plate. You eat a good dinner. Afterward, we will begin your correction session. Now, tell me what three lessons we are working on currently." Mulder sighed, "Patience, Focus and Self Preservation, Sir." "That's right, Fox. Patience. Curbing your impulsiveness, thinking things through before you act. Focus. Concentration on what is happening around you and inside your own mind. No more flitting hither and yon getting yourself into needless trouble. Self preservation is obvious. You don't have any. But you will," Skinner said ominously. "Now be quiet." Mulder nodded and tried desperately not to fidget. Skinner and Scully exchanged quiet conversation as they both fed Mulder by hand. Skinner had calmly reached over and pinched his left nipple when Mulder had refused to eat a bite of broccoli. When he opened his mouth to yelp, Scully filled it with the green vegetable. After that little motivating incident, Mulder ate everything offered without complaint. But he did feel that they had forced quite an unnecessarily large portion of the hated broccoli into his mouth. "Dana and I will clean the kitchen this evening, Fox. I want you to go to the playroom and stand in your corner. And, I want your mind on your bottom. It's going to pay the price for your recklessness in Indiana." Mulder made his way down the hall, resentment building in his chest. The way he saw it, he had not been reckless. He had watched out for his partner's safety. He could allow Scully to be hurt, no matter how much he had to suffer for it later. He opened the door to the playroom and as usual, felt his mouth go dry. It was dimly lit, the walls painted a claustrophobic eggplant color. They would have to completely remodel this room should they ever decide to sell the house. Or, maybe not. There were a lot of closet spankers out there. Thanks to the woodworking skills of Walter Skinner, a beautifully hand crafted frame stood in the center of the room. Built in an H design, and equipped with numerous wrist and leg restraints. There was also a red leather padded spanking bench, custom made for Mulder's tall body. Once he was lying across its cool surface, his feet barely touched the floor. There were also several chairs, some hard straight backed, others padded and two very comfortable reclining chairs. Mulder seldom got to sit in one of those. There was also another lower wooden bench and cabinet. A huge monstrosity set against one wall, filled with all of their insidious little toys. He didn't let his eyes dwell there for long. He moved to and stuck his nose against the smooth paint. This was just so humiliating, standing here like some naughty three year old. It could be worse of course, he could be displaying a blistered butt to the room. He had a feeling he would experience that little delight later. He sighed, nothing to do now but wait. It seemed like he stood there for hours but it was probably only about thirty minutes when he heard them enter the room. They immediately went to cabinet and selected their instruments of torment for the evening. Mulder broke out in a light sweat. He knew they loved him and wouldn't cause any permanent damage. But they were very angry with him and this would no doubt prove to be a very long and painful night. "Come here, Fox." Mulder felt a momentary paralysis and was relieved when, after only a heart stopping moment of hesitation, he was able to actually move across the room to stand in front of his Master and Mistress. He looked at them, his eyes wide with fear. Begging them silently to hear his side of the story. "You have permission to speak, Fox." "I didn't do anything wrong." Scully punched her finger into his bare chest, "I was capable of going over that fence by myself, Mulder. You did not have to throw me like that. If you had just let me do my job, we both would have made it over without injury. You could have been killed, Mulder." "I can't take a chance that you might get hurt, Scully." "I appreciate that you watch my back, Mulder. It's not only necessary, it's vital in the type of work we do. Especially now. But . . . I will allow you to needlessly endanger yourself. As important as you think I am to you, you are equally precious to me, and to Walter. You will stop these thoughtless risks, Mulder, believe me you learn to think before you act." Skinner had seated himself on one of the hardback chairs and crooked his finger at his woebegone agent, "Come on, Fox. Get over my knee, I'm going to warm you up a little but your real punishment tonight will come from Dana. She has the most to be angry about. Besides which, she thinks I'm too easy on you." Mulder soon found himself pinned across his supervisor's broad lap, his wrists held to the small of his back, his legs caught between Skinner's muscular thighs. Any movement was seriously hampered and Mulder feared, talk of a aside, that this would be a very long, hard spanking. "For acting without thinking things through, Mulder. Cry all you want, this is going to hurt and I won't think less of you for your tears." Skinner raised his hand and brought it down hard on the waiting backside across his knees. Mulder tried valiantly to remain still and take his punishment but as the excruciating smacks kept landing and the fiery pain kept building and building, he found himself unable to maintain his silence. Soon he was sobbing and begging the man to stop the endless onslaught of stinging slaps. As soon as the first sob escaped Mulder's lips, the speed and severity of the spanking increased until Mulder could do nothing but howl his distress to the four walls. When he had been spanked raw, his backside a throbbing mass of stinging pain, Skinner stopped. "Do you still think you did nothing wrong, Mulder?" "No, Sir! I've . . . I've learned my lesson. I promise. I have." Skinner landed one more hard slap to the reddest area, eliciting another pain- filled yelp. He then allowed his repentant agent to struggle to his feet, wiping furtively at his wet face with his hand. "No need to hide your tears from me, Fox. I wouldn't have stopped until you were crying. Now go stand in your corner." Mulder gingerly crept over to his corner and pushed his nose deep inside, displaying a shapely beet red bottom to a very appreciative audience. Skinner and Scully gave each other a look, thinking of all the other things they could be doing with his gorgeous backside this very minute. When Mulder was finally allowed to turn around, Scully was holding the razor strap in her hand. Mulder shuddered as the remembered taste of the well-used leather flooded his mouth. The broad, low wooden bench had now been pulled into the center of the room. But, worst of all, Skinner was busy focusing the video camera directly on said bench. Shit, they were going to record his punishment again. Nothing irritated him more, as they both were well aware, than to have to sit around on a Friday night, munching on popcorn and watching his own bottom get blistered. Skinner and Scully never seemed to tire of the subject matter, Mulder getting punished, in every conceivable position known to man . . . or at least known to Skinner. Talk about the horror of home movies. And Mulder was never entirely sure that these two wouldn't show the videos to someone else, if the mood struck them. Or if he angered them enough. Shit! Skinner a contrite Mulder over to the bench. "We want you to kneel here at the end and lay your body down along the bench. It doesn't matter where you put your hands, just make sure your butt is pushed up so Scully can get to it without any difficulty. Scoot up a little bit more, I want you to be able to kick your legs, that always looks so good on tape. Now lift up." Skinner pushed a small pillow under Mulder's hips, "I don't want that pretty cock of yours to get hurt once things start to heat up. No pun intended." He chuckled at his own joke. "Good. Very nice. Scully?" "Perfect, Walter." And to Mulder's surprise, Scully straddled him and placed her panty clad bottom on his bare back. He realized that he was now truly immobilized, his soon to be disciplined bottom prominently facing that damned video camera. He also felt himself start to get hard as his partner's silk clad bottom wiggled to get more comfortable. "Mulder," Scully's voice brought his attention back to the matter at hand. "I am going to teach you today that I am a strong, competent woman. That I can take care of myself and too, if need be. I am certainly going to take care of one part of you right now." The strap landed with an ear piercing smack on his already sensitized bottom. Mulder didn't even try for brave this time. It just hurt too much. Scully heard his confirming yelp as she watched a vivid scarlet welt appeared on the already reddened background. Mulder sobbed broken heartedly as the strop descended again and again on his throbbing bare behind. Sometimes landing several times on one agonized spot, sometimes dropping lower to punish the backs of his kicking legs, only to return ultimately to his already scalded bottom. Pinned securely under Scully's petite form, he couldn't get his hands around to protect his burning bottom nor could he even see where the strap was going to hit next. He was powerless in her grasp. So he cried . . . and pleaded . . . and begged for forgiveness. He reminded Scully that he loved her and that she loved him. He promised to never, ever do such a thing again. He promised her the world - his world. Nothing stopped his Scully in her self-appointed mission to save his soul through flagellation. Finally after Scully had delivered at least thirty hard burning licks, she stopped. Mulder breathed a sigh of relief as he sobbed and squirmed under her. "Have you learned your lesson, Mulder?" "Yes, Scully. I promise, no more overprotecting you. I promise." "Do you? Well, I think we'll just make sure." And the strap came down again. This time Mulder screamed for all he was worth. Twelve more scarlet stripes found their mark as Mulder howled, kicked and promised her anything and everything. Scully stopped again. "Oh please, Scully, please. No . . . no more. Please." "Sorry, Mulder. This isn't your first offense and I just want to make sure those thighs of yours are the perfect shade of red. We want you to look your best for the camera, now don't we?" Mulder bucked frantically and cried hysterically, as Scully worked her way up and down the backs of his long legs. From her counterbalanced vantage point, she easily held the much bigger man down. She stopped to study the effects of her work and added a few more welts to her partner's hot boiling bottom, just to even out the color a little. "Well Mulder, do you have any doubt that I can take care of myself now?" "No, Ma'am," he sobbed pitifully. "Please, don't strap me anymore. Please." Scully patted his bottom lightly. Even that light touch earning a moan from the well punished man. She rose from her seat. "Oh Mulder, look what you've done. My panties are all wet. You're just going to have to do something about that, now aren't you?" Skinner helped his agent to his knees, wiping his face with a cool cloth and smoothing the sweat dampened hair away from his face. He waited until Scully had seated herself at the end of the bench, positioned Mulder on all fours and then gently pushed his head down between his partner's legs. The quick-witted young man did not have to be ordered to begin sucking and licking Scully's soft, exquisite center. He had been here before. She moaned in ecstacy. Skinner watched for a few minutes, enjoying the sight of Mulder's red bottom. The muscles still involuntarily clenching and releasing, trying desperately to alleviate some of the terrible stinging pain that had been imparted just minutes earlier. Taking mercy on the young man, Skinner grabbed a bottle of soothing lotion and began spreading it over the abused area. His large hands sometimes imparting more pain than relief, as evidenced by Mulder's muffled moans and yelps. However, once he was finished, the punished agent was obviously more comfortable. "You spoil him, you know." Scully gasped as she arched her back in pleasure. The AD shrugged, "Yeah, I know." Skinner coated his fingers with lube and slowly pushed one inside his agent. Mulder jumped at the unexpected sensation. "Sh-h-h-h, it's all right, just hold still. You know I won't hurt you. I would never hurt you like this. I will make it good for you, Fox. I always do, don't I?" "Yes, Sir." At least that's what he thought Mulder said. He was, after all, talking with his mouth full. Skinner took his time with Mulder. Even after three months, the younger man was still leery of being penetrated. Skinner sighed, he supposed it would pass eventually. And it really wasn't that bad. Kind of like having a virgin every time. A very cooperative, if somewhat apprehensive virgin. Not too bad at all, actually. He rubbed slow circles on Mulder's back, soothing him. He stroked him and petted him and told him how beautiful he was until he felt the man relax. Only then did he enter him, slowly, smoothly and completely. Scully reached fulfillment first, throwing her head back, her hands clenched in thick, dark hair, screaming Mulder's name and how much she loved him. He was smiling up at her when she opened her eyes and she bent forward kissing his handsome face several times. She then settled back to watch the two gorgeous men together. Mulder never had a chance during these encounters. Skinner played him like a well tuned piano. He would bring Mulder to the edge again and again, caressing him, seducing him with lips and hands and words, until Mulder was strung so tightly he didn't know or care who or where he was. Or that Scully was watching. Several times Mulder had blacked out from the intensity of his own release. In cases like this, where her partner was not lying safely in a nice soft bed, Scully always stayed close in case she needed to catch him. "Come now, Fox!" Skinner growled and Mulder obeyed. Collapsing with a scream into Scully's waiting arms. Skinner withdrew carefully and pulled Mulder back to hold him tightly against his own massive chest. "We love you, Fox," he whispered into the still dazed man's ear. "Yes, Sir. I . . . I know." "What you did could have gotten you killed. We are going to spend some time reinforcing this lesson and then you can get some much needed rest. This is the worst punishment you have ever received. I only hope having a sore backside for a few days will make you think next time." He wrapped his strong arms around the younger man's chest, "Come on, up you go." Mulder looked up through his lashes at his Master and Mistress. They were occupying the two recliner chairs that faced his corner. Scully was curled up with a medical journal while Skinner worked diligently on his laptop, his legs resting on that horrible bench that Mulder had so recently vacated. Mulder sat uncomfortably in his corner on a hard wooden chair. This time he was facing toward the room and writing lines on a yellow lined school pad. "Better stop looking around and finish up, Mulder. You only have fifteen minutes left of your hour." Skinner held up the little wooden paddle he was holding. "Remember, one hundred lines or you get one smack for each line you don't get finished. Don't you think your backside has had enough for one day? I'm certainly not anxious to give you more, so get busy. You've found a bit of your precious truth, let's make sure you don't soon forget it." "Yes, Sir." Mulder squirmed trying unsuccessfully to find a less painful way to sit on his overly sore rump and looked down morosely at the pad he was juggling on his lap, trying to write legibly enough to suit Skinner. His Master really did have a sick sense of humor. He squirmed on his uncomfortable chair and hissed with pain. Skinner's Four B's. The man had a real way with discipline. It was agony to sit here on his own currently very Bare Burning Blistered Butt and write the words again and again. Owning them. Making them his. He sighed once more. Only fifteen more to write. He forced his attention back to his assignment. One thing was certain, he did not want any swats of his Master's paddle on his Bare Burning Blistered Backside tonight.