Fresh Start Series
by DiAnn


Fresh Start - Part 3


Rating: NC17 - SLASH/ language/ BDSM/ Violence

Category: Pure Trash / Discipline / m/m Slash

Warning: Scully/ Mulder/ Skinner Slash/Threesome
Very explicit sex and severe discipline. 

If you don't like this kind of thing, or you are underage, go
somewhere else . . . Please! I don't want to hear from 
you and I don't want to hear from your Mama. 

Spoiler: Very little. 

Summary: A Consortium test of Skinner and Mulder's Dom/sub 
relationship. I would suggest you read Fresh Start Part one and two 
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 3
By: DiAnn 

FBI Offices
Miami, Florida 

"Where the hell have you been?" 

Mulder's heart stopped as he looked up into the angry eyes of 
Assistant Director Skinner. His direct supervisor, his Master and a 
man whom he had been certain was still safely back in DC. 

"I . . . uh . . . uh . . . uh . . . " 

"That's what I thought." Skinner grabbed Mulder's arm and led him to 
the back of the Miami Bureau office. He practically threw Mulder into 
an empty office and slammed the door. "You know I had serious 
reservations about sending you on a case without Scully. But you were 
only supposed to be profiling - in this office- not at crime scenes 
and certainly not out chasing the perp like some deranged one man 
vigilante. Get your clothes off." 

Mulder's panicked eyes looked around him wildly, "No Sir. Please not 
here." 

Skinner's big hands moved with lightening speed and grabbed Mulder by 
his collar of his coat pulling him forward until his nose practically 
rested on Skinner's own. "Who do you belong to, Fox." 

"Yo . . . you, Sir." 

"That's right. And what did I just tell you to do?" 

"Take my cl . . . clothes off, Sir." 

"Well, it seems you do still have a semi-functioning brain up there." 
Skinner tapped his finger in the center of Mulder's forehead. "And did 
I give you permission to speak while you did it?" 

Mulder shook his head, eyes wide with fear. 

"That's right I didn't," he gave his young agent a small shove 
backward and crossed his hands over his chest. The AD spared one more 
angry frown for his agent and started to prowl around the small office 
while Mulder undressed. He could feel the agent's eyes tracking his 
every move. "Have you made a lot of friends during you stay here, 
Fox?" 

Mulder suddenly became totally engrossed in his belt buckle. 

"Answer me when I ask you a question!" 

Mulder jumped, "No, Sir. I . . . I pretty much pissed them all off as 
usual, Sir." 

Skinner raised a big fist and knocked lightly on one of the walls, 
"Pretty thin. Do you think those agents are going to enjoy hearing 
what I'm about to do you in here, Fox?" 

Mulder stood naked and shivering in the center of the floor, "Ye . . . 
yes, Sir, I think they probably will, Sir." 

"Yes, I think they will, too. SAC Rogers is fit to be tied. He thinks 
you're brilliant but uncontrollable. Are you uncontrollable, Fox?" 

"No Sir." Another hard swallow. "You . . . you control me, Sir." 

"That's right, I do. Bend over that desk and make sure your butt is 
right out here where I can get at it.' 

Mulder lost all color in his face but turned and bent across the desk. 
The wood was cold against his naked skin. He wondered if Skinner had 
bothered locking the door. 

"How do I control you, Fox?" 

"You punish me, Sir." He felt Skinner's big calloused hand rub his 
exposed buttocks. A hard, almost painful shudder ran through his body. 

"Right again. And . . . " 

Mulder thought frantically. And? What did he mean <and>? Was there a 
<and>? "I . . . I don't know, Sir." 

The AD slapped down two items on the desk next to Mulder's head, 
making him flinch. One was his black leather belt, the other a tube of 
lube. "And?" 

"You fuc . . . " 

"Don't even say it, Fox! That's not the way it is and you know it. 
Tell me what I do to you. What other method do I use to control you? 
How do I make you know you're owned? How do I make you know that I 
care about what happens to you?" 

Mulder swallowed hard, "You . . . you make love to me." 

"Very good, Fox. Maybe there is hope for you yet. Now, I'm going to 
let you make a choice. Sometime today I am going to strap that 
backside of yours because you ran off after a suspect without backup 
again. But also, sometime today, I am going to make love to you 
because you are mine and I want you. Both of these things are going to 
happen because I care very deeply about you. Which one do you want to 
happen now - in this office? You get to make that choice, Fox." 

Mulder stared wide eyed at the two items laying in front of him. 
Slowly his hand reached up for the lube, then moved over to the strap, 
then back to the lube. He did not want the other agents to hear him 
getting a strapping. But he also did not want to be . . . 

"We'll make a mess, Sir." 

"No, we won't. You don't get to come." 

Mulder sighed, picked up the lube and handed it back to Skinner, 
"Please Sir, don't hurt me too badly. I'm really sorry about going 
after Thomas. It's just that they won't listen to me and I'm . . . " 

Skinner ground his teeth together as he listened to Mulder babble. Why 
did the man insist on thinking that Skinner would eventually hurt him 
during sex? There was a story behind those feelings and the AD planned 
to get to the bottom on it someday. But not now. Now there was 
something else to do. Like remind this beautiful but aggravating young 
agent who was boss. 

"Shut up, Fox!" There was immediate silence in the room. Skinner 
spread the lube on his fingers and moved them between Mulder's firm 
cheeks. He worked on the tense young man for quite some time making 
sure that Mulder became aroused. Then he slowly and carefully entered 
the throughly prepared opening. He heard Mulder gasp but not in pain. 

"You are not to come, Fox. If you do, those agents will be treated to 
the sound of your cries while I blister your butt. I'm sure you don't 
want that." 

Mulder whimpered but did not say anything. Skinner looked at the 
beautiful body under him. A body that was obviously enjoying what was 
happening. He just did not understand the initial reluctance. 

Skinner felt himself on the edge. He increased his thrusting, and felt 
himself falling. Falling into the bliss that was making love to Fox. 

Skinner carefully pulled out and tied a careful knot in the end of his 
condom. He wrapped it in a wad of concealing paper and stuck it far 
down in the trash can liner. Wouldn't do to have a janitor find this 
tonight. 

"Get dressed, Mulder. We have work to do." He watched as his blushing 
sub levered himself up off the desk and turned to face him. His 
erection bumping against his stomach. Mulder looked down at it sadly. 

As the agent reached for his boxers, Skinner stopped him. "Not those. 
Give them to me." Mulder shot him a glare but handed over the black 
silk garment. 

"Behave next time and you won't find yourself in these difficult 
situations." He stood there watching as Mulder quickly turned back 
into the bureau's gorgeous poster boy. Only Skinner would know that he 
lacked one very important piece of apparel under that perfectly fitted 
designer suit. 

As they started to leave the room, Skinner put a hand on Mulder's 
shoulder, "Mulder, are you sure about Thomas?" 

Mulder nodded his head, "Yes Sir, I'm sure." 

Mulder pulled his trench coat closed to cover his still half hard 
erection and followed Skinner back to the conference room. He wondered 
what the other agents would think had just happened in that back 
office. At the very least they would assume that Special Agent Mulder 
just got his ass reamed. He was also quite certain that they would be 
surprised to know just how right they were. He only hoped Skinner 
didn't decide to do anything to embarrass him in front of the whole 
team. 

Mulder walked to the table and threw himself down sullenly in a chair, 
a wince momentarily distorting his handsome face. He ignored Skinner's 
knowing smile and just waited for the rest of his peers to assemble 
around him. 

Skinner stood and commanded the attention of the gathered agents, 
"Gentlemen, I have just had a lengthy discussion with Agent Mulder and 
I am certain, that once again, he is correct in his analysis of this 
situation. You will immediately bring Jason Thomas in for 
questioning." 

Mulder was shocked. He had not expected Skinner to save face for him 
in this manner. The other agents were shocked as well. He saw them 
turn silent questioning eyes to their SAC. 

SAC William Rogers, for his part had turned an unhealthy shade of red. 
He got up from his chair so quickly that it tipped over behind him. 
"Assistant Director Skinner, I refuse to do that. Your boy here may be 
right on occasion but not this time. Jason Thomas is a deacon in his 
church, and upstanding business man and a downright decent human 
being. He did not kill those little girls!" 

Skinner walked around and laid a hand on Rogers' shoulder, "Bill, 
Agent Mulder is right much more than occasionally. Pick up Thomas and 
let's talk to him. If he is innocent, we'll know soon enough. You're 
too good of an agent, Bill, to let personal feelings interfere with 
what you know needs to be done." 

Mulder was once again impressed with the compassion and understanding 
that Skinner was capable of showing. 

Thomas was brought in and after only four hours of questioning, he 
confessed to Mulder that he had killed six little girls over a three 
month period. 

It didn't make Mulder feel triumphant that he had been right, it only 
made him feel deeply depressed. So many lives ruined. Those little 
girls had lost the possibility of the future to which they were 
entitled, their parents would never recover from their loss and Thomas 
himself had gone from a respected citizen to a confessed serial 
killer, his family would be devastated. It was all such a damned 
waste. 

After it was all over, SAC Rogers came up to Mulder. "A few of us are 
going out for a drink, unwind a little, would you like to come with 
us?" 

Mulder just wanted to get away. Far away. Maybe go for a run, work off 
his grief and misery by pounding hard pavement. Just run until his 
body gave out and he barely made it back to his motel room to fall 
into an exhausted sleep. He had done it many times before. He felt a 
big rough hand land on his shoulder. 

"Sorry Bill, Mulder and I have something to finish up and then I want 
him to get some rest. He looks like he hasn't slept or eaten in a 
week." 

"That's about the truth, Walter." 

Mulder nodded his thanks at SAC Rogers but couldn't find it in himself 
to speak. A cold knot of fear had settled in his stomach. 

When the other agents had left, Skinner turned Mulder around to face 
him and looked directly into his wide frightened eyes. "Don't you look 
at me like that. You brought this on yourself. Now, I want you to go 
back to the motel, take off your clothing and bend over the back of a 
chair to wait for me. When I walk in that door, the first thing I want 
to see is your bare ass up in the air just begging for a good dose of 
my strap. Got it?" A little shake to make sure the point had gotten 
across and Skinner was walking out the door. 

* * * 

Motel in Miami
Two Hours Later 

Mulder was in place. Naked, butt turned up high over a chair that sat 
right in front of the motel room door. He had been like this for what 
seemed like hours. He had even dozed off at one point, waking suddenly 
when he heard voices outside the door. In fact, people had walked by 
several times and he sincerely hoped that the curtains were closed 
tightly enough not to allow anyone to see into the room and witness 
his shame. 

Then he heard the key in the door and light steamed into the room. The 
door stayed open until Mulder was ready to scream at the AD to close 
it. Then he began to panic. What if it wasn't Skinner? What if a maid 
was standing there getting an eyeful? Why would a maid come into a 
room at night? What if . . . 

Then the door closed and Skinner walked around in front of him. 

"Had enough time to think about what happens to bad little boys, Fox?" 

"I'm not a <little boy>, Sir." Words ground out like crushed glass. 
Bitterness, resentment and anger flowing out of him like a tidal wave, 
washing over the man standing in front of him. 

"Really? You look like one, with that smooth white fanny of yours 
stuck up in the air, just waiting for me to give it the good whipping 
you know it deserves. A bad little boy who got caught going out to 
play when he'd been told to stay inside where he wouldn't get hurt. A 
very naughty little boy, if you ask me." 

Skinner slowly took off his trench coat and suit jacket, rolling up 
his sleeves and taking his belt out of his pants. He noticed Mulder's 
flinch when the belt slipped through the loops with an all too 
familiar sound. 

He walked around behind his agent and without hesitation laid the 
first stripe across the white skin. "You know I thought about having 
Bill Rogers come over here and watch this. You about drove him crazy 
this week." 

Another loud retort of leather on bare flesh. "He would have enjoyed 
this. You have no idea what a pretty picture you make right now. That 
perfect ass turning such a lovely shade of red, long kicking legs, and 
such remorseful crying. Fervently telling me how good you're going to 
be in the future." 

Slap! "Of course, I never believe you - but he might. Probably make 
him feel more hopeful about your future." 

The belt came down hard on the tender crease where thigh met buttocks. 

"Maybe I'll just tell him how I blistered your bare butt until you 
cried. Too bad I don't have my video camera with me." Another bright 
red welt painted on tender pale skin. This time earning a distressed 
yelp. "He thinks you're going to get yourself killed, you know?" 

Another burning lash, low down where the agent would feel it when he 
tried to sit down tomorrow. "But that's not going to happen, is it 
Fox?" 

"No . . . no, Sir." Mulder strangled out between gasps and yelps of 
pain. 

"That's right." The strap rose and fell with a continuous rhythm now. 
"Why is that?" 

"Because . . . Oh-h-h-h! . . . because you won't . . . Ouch! . . . You 
won't let it happen, Sir. Oh-h-h-h! Please, Sir." 

Skinner continued to flail away at the burning bottom in front of him, 
"That's right, Little Boy," Slap! "because you belong to me," Slap! " 
and I refuse to let you," Slap! "foolishly," Slap! "get yourself 
hurt." 

"Yes, Sir! Please, Sir! I promise! I won't . . . Oh-h-h-h! won't do it 
again." 

"Tell me what you are, Fox." Slap! 

"I'm yours, Sir. Ouch-h-h!" 

"That's right, you're mine," Slap! " and you're also a bad little boy 
who just got a spanking for not following orders. Say it!" Slap! 

Despite his anguish, Mulder couldn't make himself say the humiliating 
words. 

"Better say it quick, Little Boy," Slap! Slap! "You're getting very 
red back here. It's going to be a rough ride home tomorrow. What are 
you?" 

"I'm . . . I'm a bad . . . little boy who just got a spanking." Mulder 
sobbed. 

"That's right, you are . . . but I love you anyway." 

Mulder realized that belt had stopped hitting him and had thankfully 
been dropped to the floor. 

"Now, go stand in that corner while I get us some dinner. And you are 
going to eat every bite or find yourself back over that chair. Now 
go!" 

Mulder raced to the corner and stuck his nose in it. He wished he had 
the nerve to rub some of the sting from his conspicuously displayed 
butt. He just didn't feel that brave at the moment. 

At least now the case was over and he could go home and see Scully. 
She would be back from that medical conference tonight. 

* * * 
Their House
Suburbs of Washington, D.C. 

Skinner hesitated in the doorway to watch his two young lovers. Mulder 
was sprawled on the couch with his bare foot in Scully's lap. She was 
idly rubbing it while they both concentrated on a basketball game they 
were watching on television. 

Skinner walked in and taped Mulder on the shoulder indicating that he 
should lean up. When he did so, Skinner scooted in behind him and 
pulled the younger man back against his own broad chest. He ran his 
hand up under his agent's shirt and across his muscular chest kissing 
him on top of his head. 

"Fox." Mulder immediately looked up. The use of his first name 
signaled a change in the status of his relationship with his boss. 
They had five levels in their Dom/sub life. Level 1 was this easy 
companionship they were now sharing, the three of them were roommates 
and lovers. Mulder being a free and equal partner with the other two. 
Level 5 was his absolute and complete submission, the other levels 
were varying degrees of that submission. 

Skinner felt the young man tense in his arms, "This isn't still about 
that Thomas case in Miami, is it Sir? You're not still angry, are 
you?" 

"No, you were punished for that. I keep telling you, once you've been 
disciplined you're forgiven. I don't hold a grudge, Fox, at least not 
against you." He bestowed another kiss to Mulder's dark head, "I need 
to talk to you about something else. We've been called to New York." 

Scully looked up with concern on her pretty face, as she turned off 
the TV. "We?" She asked. 

"Only Fox and I, Dana. You know how They feel about women." 

"Yes, I'm more than aware of their prejudices. Will they try to hurt 
him?" 

"No." Skinner hesitated for a few long moments, "They will expect me 
to do it." 

He felt Mulder shiver in his arms as Scully nodded her head. 

"Should I catch a later plane? Be close by in case you need me?" 

"We can't take the chance, Scully. They will no doubt have someone 
watching you. I have to make sure they understand that I am perfectly 
capable of protecting and controlling my property by myself." 

He gave Mulder a fierce hug, "Fox, our plane leaves at 8:00 a.m. Why 
don't you go on up to bed, get some extra rest. You may need it. When 
you awaken tomorrow morning you' ll be at level 5." 

"Yes, Sir." 

* * * 

Their House
The Next Morning 

Mulder awoke to someone shaking his shoulder. He had, as expected, 
slept very poorly, waking Skinner and Scully several times with his 
nightmares. They had taken turns holding him throughout the long 
night. 

"Come with me, Fox." Skinner was using his most authoritarian voice 
and Mulder responded immediately without thought. 

Level 5. Total submission. Mulder stood still, head bowed while 
Skinner bathed him. When his grooming was complete, Skinner pushed the 
younger man into the bedroom, seated himself and pulled Mulder across 
his knees face down. 

"Since you have trouble maintaining level 5, Fox, I intend to keep 
your butt warmed today as a reminder of what will be expected of you 
while we're in New York." 

He brought his hand down with a resounding slap on the smooth 
unblemished buttocks now at his disposal. He worked without emotion. 
This was not for punishment or for any misdeed or even for his own 
enjoyment at watching a beautiful ass turn rosy. This was to impart a 
sting that would last several hours until there was an opportunity to 
apply a refresher. 

By the time he finished, the backside was glowing nicely and his young 
man was sniffling. Perfect. He did not want Mulder to have puffy eyes 
and a red nose, spoiling those exquisite looks. He merely wanted a 
constant reminder of expected obedience to be felt under those 
expensive slacks he wore. 

By the time he had dressed his sub in a black silk thong, pleated 
dress pants and a turtleneck, the tears were gone from the hazel eyes, 
with no sign that they had ever been there at all. 

He watched Mulder try to adjust to the feel of rough wool chaffing a 
freshly smacked bottom and was proud of his sub for the quiet way he 
accepted his predicament. This whole thing just might work. Maybe they 
could meet with the Consortium and get back home without getting 
themselves killed. 

When they had checked in their luggage and acquired their boarding 
passes, Skinner located a deserted restroom, where he reheated 
Mulder's seat quite throughly before reapplying its scratchy wool 
covering. They narrowly missed being caught by an overweight business 
man, perspiring under the weight of a huge piece of carry-on luggage. 
Probably a sample case of some sort. 

The man nodded a friendly greeting at them as Skinner stood washing 
his hands while Mulder hid his flushed face, pretending to diligently 
use the hand dryer. 

"Flying gets to be more of a pain in the ass every day." The portly 
man huffed. 

"You can say that again!" Mulder returned without thinking. 

Skinner caught himself just before he laughed. Instead he gave Mulder 
a scowl that promised retribution for his momentary lapse. Mulder 
instantly dropped his eyes and followed his boss out into the busy 
airport. Each step causing the rough wool of his slacks to abrade his 
raw backside painfully. He planned to write to the manufacturer. You 
would think that paying $300 for a pair of pants would insure the use 
of a more finely woven fabric. This stuff was sandpaper. 

Then he remembered what real sandpaper felt like. A pair of boxer 
briefs that Scully had personally altered for him, another of her 
devious little craft projects. They had been lined in the seat with 
the roughest grade sandpaper and had made for one very memorable 
budget meeting. He had lost yet another cell phone, hers to be exact, 
so she had applied the backside of her hairbrush to the backside of 
him, then applied the modified boxers. She had looked very smug while 
they were both being reprimanded for not showing proper consideration 
of the bureau's valuable property. Every time the words <bureau's 
valuable property> were mentioned, she would smirk at him with a 
malicious twinkle in those bright blue eyes. He had taken some solace 
in the fact that she still considered him to be valuable government 
property. Whether she showed him proper consideration was highly 
questionable. 

He was disrupted from his thoughts as the plane made its final 
approach. He felt his stomach clench. He was scared. His only 
salvation lie with the man sitting next to him. Only Skinner stood 
between him and the amoral and powerful Consortium. For the next two 
days he was defenseless. 

A long black limo stood waiting for them, <Skinner/s> prominently 
displayed in the window. They had no sooner entered the vehicle until 
Skinner turned to his agent. 

"Take off your shirt, Fox." Mulder swallowed hard but did as he was 
told. Apprehension cold in his stomach. 

"Now the pants." At the look of stark terror that his sub hadlet slip 
into his eyes, Skinner chuckled, "I would think you'd be glad to be 
rid of those. Thong, too, I want to see that pretty cock of yours." 

When Mulder was naked and trembling on the cool leather seat, Skinner 
reached out and lifted the younger man's chin to meet his eyes. "Who 
do you trust, Fox?" 

"I trust you, Sir." 

"That's right, Fox, you do. You trust me because you know that I will 
protect you with my life. Come here." 

Mulder was pulled into his Dom's lap where he was very throughly 
kissed. While he was still gasping for breath, Skinner reached into 
his briefcase for the soft leather cuffs. He fastened these to the 
agent's wrists. He rubbed slow circles on Mulder's back until the man 
relaxed. Mulder hated restraints of any kind and Skinner always tried 
to make the process as easy for him as possible. When Mulder had been 
sufficiently soothed, his Master added the black leather collar and 
leash. 

"Fox, you're a strong, brave man and I know you won't disappoint me 
tonight. You must obey me without question. You must promise me that 
you will do this for me." 

Mulder nodded his head, staring into his Dom's mesmerizing brown eyes. 

"Good. Now, I want you to get over my knees, if your backside is 
burning it will be easier for you to remember what will happen if you 
don't obey me." 

Mulder used both hands to hold tightly to the door handle, as ordered, 
while Skinner applied a new coat of scarlet to his already throbbing 
bottom. Mulder could not help the sobs that escaped during this most 
recent warming of his already blazing posterior. He was humiliated to 
think that the driver, and Lord only knew how many others, were no 
doubt gleefully listening to the sound of Skinner's hard hand making 
loud painful contact with his bare defenseless butt and his own 
involuntary cries of distress. He had no doubt that they were now, and 
would be, constantly monitored while they were in New York. 

When his Master had finally finished, the sub was pushed to knell on 
the floor at Skinner's feet, while the big man gently wiped the tears 
from his face. 

"Assume Position 1. We should be arriving soon." 

He saw the panic in the hazel eyes. Mulder's had perfect sub eyes. 
They told the older man everything he ever needed to know and much 
more. A window to his handsome slave's soul. 

"Don't worry, Fox, the hotel where we will be staying is a special 
establishment that caters to those in The Lifestyle. No one will think 
anything of me leading a naked man on a leash. The only notice you'll 
get will be because you are so damned beautiful." 

Mulder shuddered but nodded and lowered his head as was required for 
Position 1 but the panic stayed in his eyes. Skinner smiled to 
himself, the man was such a wonderfully perfect slave . Always 
embarrassed, off-balance, reluctant, with a promise of rebellion 
simmering just below the surface but oh so sensitive and responsive. 
And each of those emotions clearly visible in every hazel gaze. A 
treasure for any good Dom. Skinner was now certain that if They had 
given Mulder to someone else, the AD would eventually have killed the 
other man and claimed Mulder for himself anyway. 

After the limo had pulled safely into the underground parking facility 
of the hotel, Skinner exited the car and then reached in for his most 
precious possession. Mulder stepped out onto the chilled concrete 
shivering so hard his Master was sure he would be picking him up off 
the floor at any moment. 

"Here Fox." Skinner handed him a pair of tight faded jeans. The look 
of gratitude in the young man's eyes made Skinner have to look away. 

"Still spoiling him, I see." The man crept out of the shadows, the end 
of his cigarette glowing brightly in the muted light. Skinner glanced 
over at his sub but Mulder was completely occupied with trying to 
scramble into his one article of clothing with all possible speed. 

"Yes, I spoil him when he pleases me. When he doesn't, I leave no 
doubt in his mind of my displeasure. That's as it should be." 

"Perhaps." 

"What do you want?" 

"Only to welcome you. And to see your pretty little pet again. He 
wears those expense suits of his so well at the office but it can't 
compare to naked at my feet." 

"You mean naked at <my> feet. Perhaps you should consult a physician, 
you seem incapable of remembering the simplest facts. He belongs to 
me." 

The man dropped his cigarette to the floor and crushed it under the 
shoe of his expensive leather shoe. "So he does. You should thank me 
for that Enjoy your stay in New York, Mr. Skinner." 

Skinner could not stop the small sigh of relief that escaped his lips 
as the man turned and walked back into the shadows. He stepped behind 
Mulder and fastened his wrist restraints together behind his back, 
turned the now bound slave around for another quick ardent kiss, 
picked up the end of the leash and headed for the elevator. 

Mulder completely forgot the rule about keeping his eyes down and 
Skinner couldn't bring himself to deny the awe struck young man his 
first sight of this particular hotel lobby. 

In one richly appointed brocade chair, a beautiful naked woman, her 
long flowing blond hair brushing the floor, kicked and cried as she 
lay over the knees of a man in a custom made Italian suit. He seemed 
in no particular hurry to finish the very public spanking he was so 
zealously delivering. 

Everywhere he looked, elegantly dressed men and women were trailed by 
stunning naked, or nearly naked, slaves. Some on leashes, some merely 
following like well-trained puppies. 

In one corner, under a perfectly directed spotlight, a heavily muscled 
young man stood with his nose pressed to the wall in front of him. His 
high tight backside showing signs of a recent encounter with a strap. 
As Mulder watched, he was claimed and led away by a rotund little 
troll of a man, smoking a cigar and negligently letting the ashes fall 
down the front of his own silk suit. 

Mulder thought of Skinner and felt a wave of love and gratitude for 
the man who had saved him from a fate such as that. Only now did he 
realize what peril he had really been in when he had been taken to 
Camp Fresh Start for assignment and retraining. 

He felt a slight tug on his collar and looked over to see Skinner give 
him a slight frown. He immediately lowered his eyes to his own crotch. 

Once safely in their suite, Skinner released Mulder's hands and peeled 
the jeans off his sub, then shooed him into bed. "I know you didn't 
sleep last night and I'm not sure what is in store for us here. 
Whatever it is, it is <my> problem and <I> will handle it. <You> have 
no problems because <you> have no control. I will take care of 
everything, your only concern is to obey me to the letter. Though you 
know I am not fond of harsh punishment, you also know I will not 
hesitate to do so should the need arise. Now, go to sleep." 

And no one was more surprised than Mulder when he did just that. 

He had to admit he did feel better after getting some much needed 
rest. Until he saw what Skinner had picked for him to wear for the 
evening. 

"Uh . . . permission to speak, Sir." 

Skinner looked into panicked green and gold eyes. "Denied. You have to 
trust me, Fox." 

Mulder nodded and reluctantly stepped one foot into the soft black 
leather pants. As they were literally rolled up his legs, Mulder 
couldn't help but think that a good coat of paint might be less 
revealing. 

Skinner tugged and smoothed the supple leather until he reached to 
very top of Mulder's thighs. He then fastened on a cock ring and ball 
spreader made of soft black leather. Skinner hesitated before pulling 
the pants the rest of the way up, giving the young man a stern look 
that Mulder could not, for the life of him, interpret. Until, that is, 
the pants rested snugly on his slim hips. He felt the cool air still 
wafting around his naked butt. The damned things had a cut-out that 
exposed his entire backside. 

"Calm down, Fox. You have the best ass I've ever seen, just be happy 
that the front isn't missing too." 

A sheer shimmering white silk shirt was pulled on and belted at the 
waist. It's overly large flowing design billowed around Mulder's chest 
and what should have been fully covered became more naked as the 
nearly transparent silk flowed across his skin, caressing firm well 
toned muscles and hard little nipples. The movement of the sensuous 
fabric was constant and erotic as it gave the viewer only a split 
second glimpse before moving on to highlight some other equally 
intriguing area of the slave's well-toned body. 

Skinner stood mesmerized for a moment until he realized that Mulder 
was looking at him, a frantic silent question in his eyes as he looked 
between his bare feet and his Master's face. 

Skinner shook his head and watched as Mulder's hopes were crushed. "I 
know it's January but I like that look, Fox, you have very erotic 
feet. Just like everything else on that gorgeous body of yours." 

Skinner then dressed himself in an elegant black suit that set off his 
muscular body to perfection. He clipped the leash back on Mulder's 
collar and led the enchantingly blushing man from the room. Skinner 
received more than his share of envious looks as he led his prize 
through the lobby. If they had been here for any other reason, Master 
Skinner would have been enjoying himself immensely. 

Once they were settled in the limo, Mulder was surprised as his Master 
pulled him snugly into his lap. He gave the agent another passionate 
kiss and then leaned in to whisper in his ear. To anyone watching, it 
would appear he was merely nibbling at the delectable morsel. "We are 
going to a private club owned by the Consortium. You, I am afraid, are 
destined to be the main attraction tonight. Since that is unavoidable, 
I plan to use the distraction to search the club's office. I think the 
records of that particular facility could prove most valuable to us." 

He spent a few moments kissing the soft skin behind and below his subs 
ear. "So if you lose sight of me, you are not to panic. You get 
yourself in trouble and those people will really get a show tonight." 

He felt Mulder shudder and assumed his message had been received. He 
clipped the wrist cuffs together behind Fox' back and planted another 
hard kiss on his already kiss swollen lips. Luscious. 

Mulder took a deep breath and then set his bare feet out on the icy 
sidewalk, only to gasp seconds later as his Master hooked one massive 
arm around his waist, pulling his bare butt tight against Skinner's 
hip and lifting him off the cold ground. He was carried the few steps 
into the club's lobby and set down before he even realized what had 
happened. They were greeted by a man standing beside a small table. 
The only furniture in the ornately decorated red and gold entryway. 
Rich ruby brocade wallpaper, heavily carved gold wainscoting, 
sparkling chandeliers, towering tropical plants and plush red carpet. 

The man looked Mulder up and down, "Insolent little thing, isn't he? 
Doesn't he even know to keep his eyes down?" 

"He's new," sparing a glare for his sub, which got an immediate 
lowering of hazel eyes. 

"Well, the training is half the fun, isn't it? So is he to be 
available tonight?" 

"Yes." 

Mulder's heart stopped. 

The man dragged Mulder closer to him and pulled the left side of his 
shirt down off his shoulder and chest, leaving it to rest on a 
restrained arm. He then picked up some sort of felt tipped marker and 
drew a large red X right above Mulder's left nipple. Mulder glanced at 
his Master but Skinner had his eyes glued to Mulder's exposed chest. 

"Can he be fondled?" 

"Yes." The man picked up a blue pen and drew a box between the top two 
lines of the X. 

"Kissed?" 

"Anywhere but that sexy mouth of his. That's for me alone." The man 
drew another design in green ink to the right of the X, then drew a 
red circle around it. 

"Punished?" 

"Only with my express permission." A black mark was placed to the left 
of the X, this time with a bright red slash running through it. 

"Fucked?" 

"Absolutely not." The man drew a vertical line between the bottom 
lines of the X right above Mulder's nipple. 

"Pity. If you weren't going to let anyone enjoy him, why did you bring 
him here?" 

"Don't give me that. He will be the best looking thing in this club 
tonight and probably for some time to come. They'll enjoy him even 
with my restrictions. Just looking at him is worth the price of 
admission. You should be so lucky every night." 

The man gave the blushing Mulder another once over. "You're probably 
right. The ink should be dry now. You can go in whenever you're 
ready." 

"Am I going to be able to get that stuff off him?" 

"It might take a little scrubbing but he has great pecs so it 
shouldn't be too much of a hardship for you. If you don't want to 
bother, let me know. I'll be glad to bathe him for you anytime." the 
man leered, "Enjoy your evening, Mr. Skinner." 

The AD then turned to a quivering Mulder, lowered his shoulder, 
planted it firmly in the younger man's stomach and threw the 
astonished sub over his shoulder. He then walked through the elaborate 
double doors that had been opened for him. So it was that Fox Mulder 
entered The Club bare bottom first, his flaming face buried in 
Skinner's back. 

Mulder, no doubt thought he was in this peculiar position over his 
Master's broad shoulder to further embarrass and humiliate him. That 
could not have been further from the truth. Skinner wanted to spare 
him this first entrance into the room. Even with Mulder's gorgeous 
face out of sight, every eye in the room, be it richly dressed patron 
or naked slave, turned as they entered. Skinner wanted a chance to 
reconnoiter the situation before this lecherous crowd got a good look 
at Mulder. The boy was a walking sexual fantasy tonight, even if he 
did not recognize that fact himself. 

Not a sound came from the room as Skinner stood with his gloriously 
erotic burden. 

"Hey Mate," someone called, "does the rest of him look as good as 
that? You wouldn't bring in such a beautiful ass attached to some ugly 
troll face, now would you?" 

Nervous laughter ensued and broke the tension in he room. The crowd 
surged closer. Both men and women, wanton and hungry looking. 

"Get back!" Skinner growled, "You're going to scare him to death. This 
is his first time in a club such as this." He glared around the room 
causing several of fainter heart to take a step back, "And he's well 
marked, anyone oversteps the bounds and they answer to me." 

He then set Mulder on his feet, pulled him close for a deep kiss and a 
whispered word of encouragement in his ear, released his leash, and 
turned his wide-eyed sexy young sub to meet his fate. 

He watched the obviously furious Mulder closely as he was being 
throughly groped by the delighted crowd. It seemed that everyone found 
the spitting and snarling of the unruly slave to be quite charming so 
Skinner relaxed. He knew this would be hard for Mulder but it was 
necessary. The Consortium had demanded their presence here tonight. 
The boisterous crowd seemed more than willing, or perhaps just 
intimidated enough, to follow the rules of the marks on his chest. 
They had however, much to Mulder's chagrin, found the canceled slit in 
the front of his leather pants. His beautiful restrained cock was now 
on full and impressive display for a very appreciative number of hands 
and mouths. 

When Skinner felt comfortable with the situation and was assured that 
Mulder had the full attention of everyone, he slipped away to find the 
offices he planned to investigate. 

He was just going through the last file drawer, which had been 
embarrassingly easy to break into, when he heard someone at the door. 

He ducked into a small closet and prayed the man had not come to 
retrieve his coat. He did not want to have to kill anyone here 
tonight. 

"Did you get a look at that guy?" 

"Hell yes! If I had known he looked like that, I would have made sure 
I was the one he was assigned to. Shit, what a beauty. I always 
figured with a name like <Fox> the guy had to be a real ugly little 
fucker. I mean, what are the odds right?" 

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I wish I had taken the time to look at 
his file when they decided to bring him in." 

"Well, too late now. I hear that Skinner is a real hard ass 
Son-of-a-Bitch." 

"He'll have to be to keep that boy. Someone will make a play for him 
after tonight. I heard they are scheduled to go back to the camp for a 
refresher soon. I bet that place will be crawling with wanna' be 
owners that week." 

"I wish them luck, I would not want to tangle with that Skinner guy. 
Hey, will you hurry up? I want to see what's happening. They've got 
that pretty cock of his hard as a rock. I can't remember the last time 
I've seen someone getting that aroused against their will or who was 
that beautiful while it was happening. What I wouldn't give for a 
piece of that fine ass." 

"Okay, here it is. Let's go. Wouldn't want you to miss any of the 
pretty boy's suffering, now would we?" 

Skinner's jaw was clenched so tightly his face hurt. He hated hearing 
them talk about Mulder so crudely. So there were those that thought 
they could take his sub away from him? Well, they were in for a little 
surprise. 

He had no sooner gotten safely back to the main ballroom than he found 
himself face to face with his furious sub. There were tears streaming 
down his face but Skinner felt certain they were more from impotent 
rage than pain. 

"What's wrong? Did someone hurt you?" He hugged the distraught young 
man tightly, several overly anxious men standing close by just 
watching them, at a safe distance of course, well away from the 
volatile Assistant Director. 

"Those bastards held me down and cut . . . " 

He instantly held the young man away from him, "Cut! Cut where?" He 
soon saw the problem. The front of Mulder's pants was now missing, 
fully exposing his erect cock and leather restrained balls through the 
jagged edges. 

"Very pretty," Skinner laughed. 

"Pretty, my ass," Mulder hissed, "I want to get out of her - now! 
These people are crazy!" 

"Why? Because they want you? Hardly cause for commitment proceedings. 
Has anyone kissed you on the mouth or tried to rape you?" 

"Not yet," Mulder growled, "but some asshole plans to offer you ten 
thousand dollars to spend an hour whipping me." 

His master looked at him pointedly, "Unless you change that attitude, 
I think I'll be ten thousand dollars richer when we leave here." 

Mulder's mouth dropped open, "You wouldn't!" 

"Level 5, Fox. Do you need a reminder? Right here? Right now?" 

"No, Sir." The bottom lip pouted and the rebellion was still clear in 
the bright hazel eyes. A concession but not much of one. 

Skinner leaned forward and kissed his smooth cheek, "No matter, I'm 
ready to leave anyway." Mulder's relief was almost humorous. 

* * * 

Hotel Room
New York City 

"I don't think your new friends wanted you to leave." 

"Humph!" 

"Why don't you go take a shower. Lose the lipstick on your cock and 
that attitude while you're in there. And see if you can get that 
damned ink off your chest." 

When Mulder came out, still drying his hair with a damp towel, Skinner 
was waiting for him in bed. Mulder crawled in beside him and 
immediately tensed as his Master rolled over to cover his body. 

Skinner raised up, with one hand on each side of his trembling lover's 
face. "Will you cut that out! Have I ever hurt you during sex?" 

"No." 

"Have I ever even come close to hurting you?" 

"No." 

"You come harder than you've ever come in your life when I decide to 
really work you over. Isn't that true?" 

Mulder blushed but nodded yes. 

"So why the trembling virgin bit every time?" 

Mulder hesitated and then just shrugged, his mouth curving into a 
sheepish smile. 

His Master let out an exasperated sigh and lowered his lips to his 
subs ear. "I found something interesting tonight." He felt Mulder come 
to immediate attention. "Calm down, make it look like I'm seducing you 
- since that's a necessary step <every> damned time," he added 
bitterly. 

"Yes, Sir." Mulder whispered. 

"I got a couple of member names we didn't already have but . . . I 
also found a memo telling the club director to expect a special 
<shipment> tonight. Evidently, the upstairs rooms at that club are 
used to stash people the Consortium want to disappear for a while." 

Mulder moaned for the benefit of any camera that might be watching 
them. Skinner worked his way down the long neck and took a nipple in 
his mouth, sucking and licking until Mulder moaned for real. He then 
moved to the other one and repeated his performance. When he had 
worked his way back up to his sub's ear the young man was panting 
heavily. 

"You still with me, Fox?" 

Nothing. 

"Fox!" 

"Ye . . . yes, Sir!" 

"Pay attention! For such a reluctant lay, you certainly get into it 
quickly enough." 

"Uh . . . Scully says there isn't another man on earth who could do to 
me what you do and both of us still be living when it was over." 

Skinner chuckled. Scully was probably right. "Mulder, we need to find 
out who or what is staying in that room." 

"How?" 

"Do you have that damned lock pick of yours with you." 

"Yes." 

"Of course you do. What every good slave should carry." he chuckled 
again at Mulder's loud gasp as his Master's slick finger slipped 
easily inside his tight hidden opening. 

"Never . . . le . . . leave home with . . . without it. Ah-h-h-h, 
please!" 

Skinner congratulated himself that it had taken less time to get 
Mulder begging tonight. Maybe they were making progress. 

Later, he looked down at the man sleeping so soundly on his chest. He 
didn't want to ever break Fox' spirit. He wanted to always see that 
fiery rebellion in his eyes, even as he obeyed his Master's every 
command. But he wanted the beautiful agent to sexually want his Dom as 
much as he was wanted. Time, it was just going to take time, he told 
himself. He wondered again why Mulder was fighting against him so 
hard. 

He needed to know. He shook his sub gently to wake him. 

"Fox?" 

"Mm-m-m?" 

"Do you think it's wrong to be gay?" 

"No . . . their business. Sleep now . . . " 

"I know, just a minute. Do you think you're gay?" 

"No. Dad used to say . . . that . . . I wasa' . . . cocksucker, but, 
m' not.. Don't like to be touched like that." 

Skinner felt this heart stop. "Don't like to be touched how, Mulder?" 

"Those men tonight. Didn't like them touching me. I was afraid they 
would hurt me . . . the way . . . the way Dad told me about. Didn't 
trust them." 

Skinner sighed with relief. For one heartbreaking moment he had 
thought that Mulder's Dad had sexually molested his son, or worse, 
that Mulder didn't like it when Skinner himself, touched him. He 
petted his agent's dark hair. "I know you didn't. You did well 
tonight, Fox. Go to sleep now." 

Leave it to Bill Mulder. He could just hear the man calling his son 
every obscene name in the book. Wanting only to hurt as deeply as 
possible. Using scare tactics to encourage a heterosexual son to stay 
that way. Homophobic bastard. Not for the first time he wished he 
could have killed the bitter insensitive old man himself. 

* * * 

Hotel Room
The Next Day 

Skinner stood looking through Mulder's wardrobe. He needed to pick 
something for his sub to wear for this meeting with the Consortium. He 
glanced at the designer suit. In it Mulder would feel more 
comfortable, feel like more of an equal. He would feel like Mulder. 
The AD quickly discarded that idea. It would only make whatever 
happened more personal for his sub. He had to be dressed like a slave 
but not in a humiliating fashion. There was sure to be enough pain and 
embarrassment today without being dressed that way at the beginning. 
Then Skinner spotted exactly what he wanted. 

Mulder stood in front of his Dom dressed in extraordinary black silk 
pajamas. They were very conservative, oriental in design, small stand 
up collar buttoned to the throat, long sleeves, long pants. Just a 
hint of embroidered slippers showing beneath the hem. But, my oh my, 
the man was beautiful in them. The light soft silk flowed over the 
skin leaving no doubt that the slave was naked underneath. Every hard 
muscle, every enticing curve lovingly accentuated, seeming to demand 
the caress of an exploring hand or an appreciative eye. Skinner had 
bought them because they reminded him of what the lovely exotic 
house-boys had worn when he chanced to visit a Laotian Politician's 
palace during his time in Viet Nam. And Mulder did them every justice. 
Stunningly beautiful and erotically irresistible. 

Skinner wanted to know if Mulder had any idea how very alluring he 
looked at this moment. 

"Permission to speak." 

"I look like a sissy." Mulder pouted. 

Skinner sighed. No hope, absolutely no hope. 

"Turn around and don't give me that look. I decide what is best for 
you, all you do is obey." 

Skinner pushed another large dollop of lube up inside Mulder. He had 
not forgotten the propensity for dry penetration at the camp, better 
to take no chances today. When Mulder's tight opening had been 
throughly prepared, Skinner took out a syringe and injected the anti 
nausea medication he had gotten from Scully before they left DC. He 
would not allow Mulder to embarrass himself that way in front of those 
old bastards. He sighed again as he watched Mulder rubbing the injured 
area. 

"Come on, Fox, it's time to go." As Mulder walked by, he landed a hard 
slap on the injection sight, earning a distressed yelp from his 
disobedient sub, "And next time before you rub, ask first." 

On the way through the lobby Mulder stopped traffic and a few hearts. 
Skinner began to wonder if he had made a serious mistake. In that 
clinging, flowing black silk Mulder was lethal. 

Once they were in the limo, Mulder was surprised to be pulled into his 
Dom's lap and a black silk scarf tied around his eyes. Skinner kissed 
him and caressed him until he settled down. "They don't want to let 
you know where their office is located, for obvious reasons. I have to 
wear one, too," he lied. He was grudgingly accepted as one of them. 
Not completely trusted but too owned to be of any threat. So they 
thought. Someday they would be very surprised. 

He caressed and kissed his sub until he felt Mulder relax in his arms. 
"Fox," he whispered, "I want you to promise me that no matter what 
happens you will obey my every order. Only my orders. We have to prove 
to them that you are under my control. This is extremely important. 
Will you do that for me?" 

"Yes, Sir. I will do my best. I promise." He received another kiss in 
thanks 

"Permission to speak?" He whispered. 

"Yes, Fox, what is it?" 

"I need your promise too, Sir. If I lose it . . . if I do anything 
that might jeopardize you, I want you to take me down. Take me down so 
that I stay down. I'm . . . I'm not sure I can do this." Mulder shook 
his head sadly. 

"I promise, Fox. I'll take care of you. Just trust me and do 
everything I tell you to do. I'll get us out of this and then we can 
continue to find ways to hurt them. We'll bring them down someday. I 
promise you that, too." 

As they entered the elevator at the Consortium's New York offices, 
Skinner reluctantly pushed the button for the twelfth floor. The 
dungeon room, where employees who had not met company standards were 
dealt with, or as today, beautiful prodigal sons were brought back 
into the fold. He wondered if Mulder would feel lucky or angry to know 
that only extremely good-looking men were ever <retrained>. The others 
were quickly terminated in dark alleys or abandoned warehouses. 

A soft knock on double oak doors and they were being ushered inside. 
Mulder stopped so suddenly that Skinner almost ran into the back of 
him. The room looked like something from a nightmare to the younger 
man. A torture room. He felt Skinner's strong insistent hand on the 
small of his back forcing him to enter the rest of the way. 

A large gleaming conference table was in the center of the room. There 
were seated the old guard of the Consortium, eying Mulder with 
voracious eyes full of unquenchable lush and greed. 

Mulder was looking around at the equipment, most of which he 
recognized. A whipping post and a spanking bench occupied center 
stage. Tall and short vaulting horses, assorted chairs and stools and 
a large selection of whips and paddles hanging on one wall. A few he 
could not identify, a strange chair type contraption and to one side, 
and where it could be easily seen by the seated members, stood a large 
wooden frame with a smaller frame mounted inside. It looked strong 
enough to restrain King Kong and made Mulder's mouth go dry. 

Skinner looked over at his disconcerted sub, eying the room and 
chewing on his bottom lip for all he was worth. 

Skinner reached out and smacked the back of the dark head, "You bloody 
that pretty lip and I'll make you regret it." 

The ploy worked, Mulder's eyes and full attention snapped back to his 
Master. The abused lip popped out of his mouth, wet and slightly 
swollen but none the worse for wear. Skinner saw looks of approval on 
several of the faces of the old dragons seated around the table. 

Around the perimeter of the room stood a few junior members who were 
currently held in favor. Skinner spotted the manager of the sex club. 
That would make things easier. The Smoking Man was hiding in a deep 
shadow in one corner, well away from the junior members, a smirk on 
his craggy face. And then Skinner spotted Alex Krycek. Leaning against 
one of the vaulting horses with a peculiar expression on his handsome 
face. 

Skinner grabbed his surprised sub's arm and began to drag his across 
the room toward a raised platform. The small stage was about three 
feet off the ground and illuminated by a powerful overhead spotlight. 
Skinner practically threw Mulder onto this stage. 

"Position 1, Fox. Now!" He watched as Mulder leaned back on his heels 
and bowed his head. He was so beautiful in those silk pajamas that 
Skinner almost lost his train of thought for a moment. Then he 
remembered Krycek. Mulder absolutely must not see that his traitorous 
ex-partner was here to witness his pain and humiliation. 

A well dressed English Gentleman slowly rose from his seat at the 
table and walked over to where Mulder was sublimated before them. "He 
certainly is exquisite, Mr. Skinner. I have had several requests for 
transfer of ownership this very morning." 

"He's mine. If anyone else touches him, I will kill them." 

"I believe you mean that, Mr. Skinner. However, a possession as 
beautiful as this one is very difficult to hold. Especially when that 
property is out in the field investigating cases on a regular basis." 

"If anyone takes him, I will resign from the bureau and go 
underground. I will resurface only long enough to hunt down and kill 
the man who has Fox as well as everyone in this room." He looked 
around at the indignant faces of men more used to threatening others 
than being threatened themselves. "If any of you have any doubts about 
my ability to do just that, I would advise you to check my military 
record more closely." 

"There is no need for threats, Mr. Skinner. I'm sure after today none 
of us will have an doubts that you are strong enough to keep him. You 
are both here to demonstrate loyalty. His loyalty to you and yours to 
us. At this time, you will tell your slave to obey our every command, 
as you will do yourself." 

"There are limits. He is not to be raped or permanently scarred in any 
way." 

"You over-step your bounds, Mr. Skinner, you know the rules." A threat 
creeping into the cultivated voice. 

"Where Fox is concerned, I make the rules." 

The English Gentleman and the AD glared into each others eyes for 
several long uneasy minutes while the rest of the room seemed to have 
stopped breathing. The Brit finally smiled maliciously and looked 
away. 

"Fine, Mr. Skinner, you make the rules for him but we make the rules 
for you. Punish your slave now so that we may witness your technique 
and determine for ourselves just how capable you are." 

Skinner glanced over and realized that Mulder was now shivering from 
head to foot. The AD did not want to hurt him. He wanted to gather his 
remarkable young lover in his arms and leave this den of lust and 
depravity. Mulder didn't belong here. He was a bright shining star 
caught in a net of darkness and evil.

"Come here, Fox." Mulder immediately rose on shaky legs and stepped 
down from the platform. As he neared the chair, Skinner took his wrist 
and pulled him across his knees. He pushed the agent's head down until 
it was resting on the carpet He was now bent almost double with his 
ass high in the air. 

Skinner began to rub his hand in small circles over the silk clad 
backside presented up to him. He would use Mulder's beautiful body and 
the old men's own lust against them. Taking his time, he made certain 
that not a single wrinkle or crease remained in the soft liquid 
fabric. Slow soothing circles making the luxurious fabric cling and 
then release. A glimpse of a hard rippling muscle barely seen before 
the material shifted again to accentuate a sensuous curve or an 
intriguing valley. He gently but firmly pushed the silk firmly into 
the crevice between the firm cheeks, separating the rounded globes, 
exposing them. Not naked, yet more than naked, a seductive whispered 
promise. 

Skinner raised his hand and delivered a sharp smack to the right 
buttock causing Mulder to flinch and wiggle. Skinner glanced up to see 
every eye in the room focused on the silk covered flesh he 
possessively fondled. Another sharp slap, a gasp and a another eye 
catching wiggle. More slow deliberate hands over the splendid 
masculine body. A long slow caress down a muscular thigh, then a quick 
dip and squeeze between the legs earning a low throaty moan from the 
prone man. 

There was no other sound in the room, the greedy voyeurs mesmerized by 
the spectacle taking place in front of their eyes. A quick flip of 
powerful knees and hands and the stunned agent gasped as he landed 
belly up over his Master's knees. Hands quickly thrown over his head 
and supporting him on the floor. 

More slow gentle movement. Down over washboard abs, slipping up under 
the silk shirt to caress the lightly furred chest and well developed 
pecs. Then an easy slide down to pump and squeeze a rapidly hardening 
cock concealed by a layer of thin black silk. More low moans from his 
beautiful slave and Skinner flipped him again. 

Broad hands running smoothly over a long muscular back and down to 
again smooth the black silk over the gorgeous ass. Another hard slap 
on the silken bottom, a flinch, a squirm and a hiss of pain. ..or was 
it pleasure? 

Skinner had his audience in the palm of his hand. He slowly inserted 
his fingers in the waistband of the pajama bottoms, pulled down , only 
an inch or two, just a glimpse of smooth flushed skin. A slow caress 
up the arching spine, pushing compliant silk in its path to uncover 
hard trembling muscles and sweat glowing flesh. 

Back to the pants, another slow slide downward. The first gentle swell 
of tight muscle showing now, more skin bared to his Master's caress, 
another lightening fast smack, then another. Another pull on fabric, 
the silk clinging to the glorious bottom as if reluctant to let go of 
something so beautiful. Then the silk was sliding down, revealing a 
backside of such perfection that an actual gasp came from the on 
lookers. 

Skinner reached under his sub, rubbing on the hard cock now straining 
against his thigh. Mulder was outside his body, unaware of where he 
was or who was watching. Lost in the touch of his Master. His head 
raised up and back, exposing a long expanse of elegant neck. A 
constant moan now turned into a deep purring, even when a hard smack 
would land on unprotected skin. 

Another flip to a body now made malleable with passion and need. The 
agent was on his back once more, insistent hands on his eager 
straining cock. Then the feel of the cock ring locked firmly in place. 
A groan of frustration and a bucking of hips. Needing. Begging. No 
forbidden words spoken. 

Without warning he was sitting up. Sitting on his Master's lap with 
his head on a broad comforting shoulder. Could not speak the words 
that desperately needed to be said. It would do no good. There could 
be no pleading for release. No mercy could be given. Just an intense 
trembling as the slave strained to rub his aching cock against his 
Master's clothed body. Need. The all consuming burning need for 
release. 

They sat like that for long sweet minutes, Skinner rubbing soothing 
circles on Mulder's back while eleven pairs of eyes watched in awe and 
fascination. 

Finally the English Gentleman broke the eery silence, "I dare say if 
that is your idea of punishment, this slave would escape any other 
Master and be back in your arms without your having to lift a finger 
to retrieve him." 

"I punish him as I see fit." 

"You realize of course that ring is against the rules. Slaves must 
maintain an erection without artificial help." 

"I thought I had made myself clear earlier. My Slave. My Rules." 

"I see. Well, no matter. That demonstration was most delightful, Mr. 
Skinner, however, we do need to move on now. Please place your slave 
in the next position." 

Skinner was fearful that he was going to have to carry Mulder to the 
platform but at the last minute the agent seemed to gain some strength 
in his legs and moved on his own to step upon the lighted stage. 

"Strip, Fox." Mulder kept his eyes on the floor as he let the black 
silk pajamas drop to the floor. "Position 2." 

Mulder lowered himself to his knees, spreading then widely. He put his 
hands behind him to grasp his ankles making his torso straighten and 
push forward, his erection jutting out in front of him. He then moved 
his head back so his eyes were staring straight up at the ceiling. His 
neck exposed and vulnerable. 

A heavy man, with a round cruel face, rose from the table carrying a 
small black leather strap. The strap closely resembled a ruler in both 
size and firmness. He immediately brought it down smartly on Mulder's 
right nipple. The agent flinched as the now reddened nub hardened. The 
man moved to the other side and gave the left nipple a hard smack. 
Without saying a word, he worked on Mulder's chest until both nipples 
were swollen and inflamed. He then left a trail of bright red 
strawberry marks down Mulder's stomach. The agent whimpered as the man 
approached his groin area but the man moved on and continued his cruel 
slaps on the insides of Mulder's thighs. 

Skinner was furious as he watched the man work on his slave. He didn't 
notice one of the junior members beside him until the man nudged his 
arm. He was holding the black silk pajamas, now neatly folded. 

"I thought you might want to keep these. It would be a shame to lose 
something so beautiful." Skinner took the offering, looking at the man 
closely. It appeared Mulder had made another conquest. Perhaps that 
could be used in their favor. 

An agonized scream from Mulder brought his attention back to the 
platform. The large man seemed to be slowing down. Mulder was sobbing 
now and the tender flesh of his inner thighs was bright red and 
covered in painful blisters. 

Still without a word, the man stopped his torment and went back to his 
seat. 

Skinner took a deep breath. Maybe Mulder had been right, this couldn't 
be done. But it wasn't the agent that Skinner was worried about now, 
it was himself . He wasn't at all sure <he> could do this. And if he 
had to be taken down it would leave Mulder unprotected in this vipers 
nest. 

"Position 3, Fox." 

He knew Mulder hated this one but with only the slightest hesitation 
his slave moved into the despised position. He turned to his hands and 
knees then lowered his forehead and shoulders to the floor. Knees wide 
apart, ass high, and finally arms straight out to each side. Totally 
exposed for all to see. 

Skinner walked around and lowered his mouth to Mulder's ear. "Hold 
this position, Fox, no matter what happens. And remember you have my 
permission to scream and cry. These people mean nothing to us. You 
belong to me. If you are hurt, it is because I allow you to be hurt. 
Because it is what I think is best for you at the moment. These men 
have no control over you. You are mine, only I can give or take away 
your pain." 

He moved away from his slave but stood close by, a determined sentry. 

An Oriental man rose from his chair carrying a long thin leather 
switch. It was meant to spur horses on to greater speed but today it 
would be used for another purpose. To throughly chastise the backside 
of an bothersome young FBI agent. 

The Oriental stood behind and to the left of the bottom displayed so 
prominently for his sadistic amusement. He raised the switch high 
above his right shoulder, hesitated several moments and then brought 
it down with a vigorous slap across the bare waiting cheeks. 

Mulder screamed. He had never felt anything that cut into his flesh 
the way that thin leather switch did. And instead of fading, the pain 
seemed to only increase. He frantically wiggled his burning butt 
trying to find some small measure of relief from the terrible 
agonizing sting but there was no solace to be had. Then he heard the 
shrill whistle as the switch again sliced the air behind him. The 
second lash was worse that the first and again he howled. 

The Oriental turned to a very irate Walter Skinner, "Your slave makes 
too much noise. If he were mine, that would not be allowed." 

"He is not yours. Fox is free to voice his discomfort." 

The switch came down again, harder than before. Now three livid welts 
decorated the trembling, straining cheeks. The switch made its 
downward arc a fourth time, stopping only when it made contact with 
the defenseless bottom waiting in its path. Mulder screamed and 
howled. He wriggled and squirmed. Anything to escape the relentless 
strokes to the conflagration that had once been his cool naked 
buttocks. 

Then he began to beg for mercy. He promised his body. He promised his 
soul. He promised anything if the evil switch would stopping falling 
on his scalded skin. The Oriental tightened his lips in frustration 
and anger. He loved nothing more than to hear a pretty well-whipped 
slave beg for mercy but this one was begging Walter Skinner to make 
the hurting stop, not the man who was actually delivering the cruel 
lashes. It was maddening! 

"Please, Master. Please make him stop. Please. I can't take any more. 
Master please, I'll do anything, just make him stop!" 

The Oriental looked at the Assistant Director with hatred. "Your slave 
seems to be confused about who wields this whip. I suggest you tell 
him to voice his pleas to me." 

"You can hurt him but you can't own him. You are whipping him because 
I allow it. He knows this. I'm surprised you do not." 

The Oriental huffed his displeasure and returned to his sadistic work. 
Skinner wasn't sure how Fox managed to stay in position, offering his 
cruelly welted bottom up for further chastenment. At one point he 
started banging his head on the table, but before Skinner could move 
to stop him, the pajama folding junior member had rushed forward to 
hold him tightly, whispering soothing comfort into the sobbing agent's 
ear. 

Finally, the last lash fell and the Oriental moved back to the table. 
The Brit walked up to the well whipped bottom still wriggling in the 
air. Twelve perfectly spaced welts starting at the hips and moving 
down onto the very top of the thighs. All exactly one inch apart. The 
Oriental was a master with that horse whip, especially considering the 
frantically thrashing target he had been working on. The stripes 
looked raw and painful and would no doubt be colorful bruises by 
tomorrow. He doubted the distraught young agent had yet realized that 
the whipping had stopped. He still writhed and sobbed pitifully. 

"I think our young friend could use a break." The English Gentleman 
turned to a junior member, "Please inform Cook that we are ready for 
luncheon to be served." 

Skinner sighed in relief until he saw one of the junior members 
putting a mat on a tall vaulting horse. It appeared to be made of a 
mesh material and was covered in sharp little spikes. Skinner's heart 
almost stopped as Mulder was hauled across the room and made to 
straddle the horse, arms tied behind his back, dangling feet firmly 
secured to the floor by long ropes. 

The dazed agent moaned loudly as the sharp little daggers made contact 
with his inflamed bottom, abused inner thighs and tender genitals. He 
squirmed trying to find a more comfortable position and cried out in 
renewed pain. 

Skinner sat at the table with his untouched plate before him. Mulder 
had sat motionless for quite some time now, as quiet as a statue. He 
had quickly realized that any movement on his part only aggravated his 
torment, allowing the devious little pointed spikes to find a new 
place to torture on his sensitive body. 

But now Skinner was worried. Mulder had his eyes closed and was 
leaning dangerously forward bringing his cock and balls into closer 
contact with the diabolical saddle. The AD felt a fierce 
uncontrollable anger well up inside of him. Without thinking, he 
picked up his wine glass and threw it against the wall, where it 
exploded in a shower of crystal shards. It felt good, his only regret 
being the scream from Mulder. The loud noise had startled the 
semi-conscious agent, making him twist on his miserable perch and 
causing the spikes to dig into his exposed flesh. 

"How do I end this!" 

The Brit stared at him for a moment, "Mr. Skinner you still have three 
positions of subservience to show us. Surly you don't expect to get 
off this easy?" 

"It ends and it ends now. Tell me what I have to do." 

The room was deathly silent, only the low moans coming from deep 
inside Mulder disturbing the quiet. The Brit smiled, "Quite simple, 
Mr. Skinner, you have to brand him by your own hand and then publicly 
rape him to prove your ownership." 

Skinner's eyes narrowed with anger and hatred. "I agree." 

The Assistant Director saw one of the junior members hurry to light 
the brazier and turned to help Mulder when he saw that Krycek already 
had the agent down and was talking to him as he lay bonelessly on the 
floor. 

"Get away from him, Krycek. He's been hurt enough." Skinner grabbed 
the dazed agent out of Krycek's arms and held him tightly against his 
own chest. 

"He's afraid of fire." 

"What do you care?" 

"I care. I've always had a soft spot for Mulder. That's why I'm here, 
to watch Mulder suffer and be possessed by another man. I swear, 
that's the truth. He's hit me a hundred times but I've never laid a 
hand on Mulder." 

"You wouldn't know the truth if it bite you in the ass, Krycek." 

"Maybe. Maybe not. But I know bullshit when I see it and that's what 
this whole thing is. Pure bullshit. He doesn't deserve this." 

"No he doesn't." 

"Let me help you with him now." He looked around to be sure the other 
men had their interest elsewhere, "Once you're back in DC, I'll come 
talk to you. I want to help you bring them down," the double agent 
whispered. 

Skinner nodded down at Mulder, "He doesn't trust you." 

"No but he trusts you. He'll do what you say. Not because of any of 
this slave nonsense but because he knows you care about him. He'll 
know the same about me some day." 

Skinner looked around. The men were all crowded around the brazier 
watching the branding tool heat. Bastards. 

"You come, we'll talk. No promises." 

Krycek nodded. "He swims." 

Skinner was momentarily lost. "What?" 

"He swims in the bureau pool. Takes showers down there, too. This 
brand can't be seen." 

"I've already thought of that." He met the younger man's deep green 
eyes and saw sorrow there and something else we couldn't quite 
identify. 

"That's gonna' hurt like hell." 

The Brit interrupted their conversation, "We're ready, Mr. Skinner." 

Alex helped Skinner carry Mulder over to the large frame structure 
that the agent had noticed earlier. His wrists and ankles were firmly 
secured to the four corners of the inside box. When Skinner was sure 
that the padded cuffs were tight but would not cause additional 
damage, he nodded at Krycek. Together they flipped the inner frame 
over so that Mulder's head was now down and his wide spread legs up 
and open wide. Fully exposed and ready to be marked for all time as a 
slave. 

Skinner walked over to the brazier and looked down at the branding 
tool. A heavy insulated handle on one end and on the other a one inch 
S made from iron, now white hot. <S> for slave. He picked up the heavy 
gloves that had been left there for his use. Wouldn't want him to burn 
a finger or anything while he was holding this torture device against 
Fox' most tender skin. He felt like he wanted to vomit. Maybe he 
should have given himself a shot of Scully's magic anti-nausea 
medicine. 

He picked up the tool and walked over to where Mulder was hanging 
upside down. The branding tool changing color from white to red as it 
cooled. 

The Brit looked at the hanging agent with demon glowing eyes. The aura 
of sophistication had fallen away to show the true evil that lay 
beneath. A man who fed on the pain of others, a true monster. "Where 
will you brand him, Mr. Skinner, buttocks, inner thigh or on his anus 
perhaps. I, myself, always prefer the upper shoulder. Very visible 
there." 

"No. I'm going to put the mark here." Skinner pointed to Mulder's left 
leg on the tender crease where thigh met groin, right beside the 
testicular sac. 

"Oh Mr. Skinner, perhaps I have underestimated you. That will be 
extremely painful for your beautiful young slave." 

"He'll live. Now get out of my way." 

Skinner was surprised to see Krycek kneeling down by his agent's head 
and whispering to him in calm soothing tones. The AD was almost 
certain that Mulder had no idea who was trying so hard to comfort him. 
At this point, maybe he wouldn't care. 

Skinner looked around and spotted the pajama folding guy, looking 
saddened and concerned. He jerked his head and the man hurried over. 

"I want you to hold his cock and balls well away from this area. I 
don't want him burned any more than need be. And hold tightly, he's 
going to jerk." 

The man nodded and carefully gathered Mulder's genitalia into his 
hands, gently pulling it away from the area to be branded. He had a 
look on his face that said Mulder was safe with him. Skinner certainly 
hoped that was true. This was going to hurt enough as it was. 

Skinner took a deep breath and nodded at Krycek, who took Mulder's 
face in his hands and began to talk to him again. Mulder looked at him 
with slitted, confused eyes. 

Skinner carefully rubbed an alcohol swab across the designated area. 
He imagined he could almost see the sensitive nerves twitching just 
below the pale blue tinged flesh of the tender crease. Holding his 
breath, he brought the still red hot iron down on the delicate patch 
of skin. Mulder shrieked hysterically. 

-One second - Two seconds- 

The agent was bucking wildly in his restraints, trying to tear himself 
away from his heartless captors. The two men holding him refused to 
release their iron hold on him. Refused to allow any additional harm 
to come to him. 

-Three seconds - Four seconds- 

The screaming stopped mid breath and the agent hung like a limp rag in 
the frame. 

-Five seconds - 

Skinner removed the iron and threw it to the floor uncaring about 
damaging the expensive carpeting. 

"Help me get him down." Both Krycek and the pajama folding guy sprung 
to work releasing the cuffs and lowering Mulder gently to the floor. 

"Skinner picked up his unconscious slave and walked over to the 
conference table. He then lowered him onto the table on his stomach, 
unzipped his own pants and pulled out his member. Closing his eyes, he 
gave himself several quick hard strokes and then penetrated Mulder in 
one smooth motion. He pumped into his unconscious agent three times, 
while Mulder flopped on the table like a well used rag doll. Skinner 
came with a low growl. Pulled himself out and picked Mulder back up 
into his arms. 

"You've gotten your pound of flesh. We're leaving." 

"Well, Mr. Skinner that was certainly disappointing. We were hoping 
for something a little more erotic in your claiming." 

"Sorry if my sexual technique disappoints you." Skinner walked out the 
door carrying his beloved burden. 

* * * 

Hotel Room
Late Evening 

The first thing Mulder became aware of was a heavy bandage between his 
legs. He sat straight up, his eyes popping open only to see Walter 
Skinner smiling at him. 

"Calm down. You've still got all the good stuff down there." 

Mulder collapsed back on his pillows with a sigh of relief. "What 
happened. I don't remember much after my ride on that horse. I kept 
dreaming about fire and Krycek." 

"It was no dream. I branded you." 

Skinner laid down on the bed and snuggled up to his sub. He needed to 
talk to him without prying ears being able to hear. 

"Br . . . branded me?" 

"Yes, with an <S> for slave. My slave. Right beside your balls. No one 
will ever see it but me." Mulder cringed and looked decidedly panicked 
so he decided to change the subject. "And Krycek was there. He wants 
to work with us." 

"No. I don't trust him." 

Skinner gave him his best Master glare, "You will if I tell you to, 
Young Man. Don't forget who's in charge here." 

"You would order me to work with that Rat Bastard." 

"I would if I thought he could help keep you safe and bring an end to 
the Consortium faster. I will not lose you, Mulder. If I have to get 
help from the Devil himself to protect you, I'll do it." 

"Well that would be Krycek, all right." Mulder pouted. "I won't do it. 
I refuse to work with him." He glanced over at his Master to see what 
reaction that statement would bring. 

"How does you butt feel right now, Mulder? I can make it hurt worse 
than that if I put my mind to it." The pouting lip actually came out 
another fraction of an inch. Skinner had not thought that possible. 

The AD ran a finger over that sensuous bottom lip, "Remember that guy 
that was being held prisoner above the sex club?" 

Bright curious eyes turned to him and the lip went back in. He had 
Mulder's full attention now. "He was on of their scientists who had 
been working on the vaccine for the alien virus. He wanted out. The 
consortium had other ideas. He has agreed to give us everything he 
knows in return for protection for him and his family. It was a big 
break for our side, Mulder." 

"At least something good came out of all this, I guess." Mulder looked 
away and then down at his hands lying on the white sheets, "Did I 
disappoint you too badly?" 

Skinner gaped at him. "Disappoint me? How? Why would you think that?" 

"Well as I recall, there was lot of screaming going on and I don't 
think it was Cancerman doing it." 

"No, it wasn't. Maybe next time." He pulled Mulder up and hugged him 
to his chest. "You didn't disappoint me. You were brave, Mulder. You 
did good. Now we can go home and see Scully. I bet you'd like that." 

He looked down at Mulder and basked in the smile that was all over his 
young sub's beautiful face. They were going home. 

The End