Fresh Start Series
by DiAnn

Fresh Start - Part 6


Rating: NC17 - SLASH/ language/ BDSM/ Violence

Category: Pure Trash / Discipline / m/m Slash / Bondage

Warning: Scully/ Mulder/ Skinner Slash/Threesome
Very explicit sex, bondage 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: Part 6 of a series. Mulder and Skinner go back to Camp Fresh
Start. 

Disclaimer: I do not, nor ever will, own Mulder, Scully, Skinner, 
Krycek 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. 

Thanks to my readers, Dswdiane and Alleycat, this is a much better 
story because of them. 

DiAnn's Discipline Page can be found at Mulder Torture Anonymous:
http://www.slashcity.com/muldertorture/discipline/discipline.html 

Fresh Start Part 6
By: DiAnn 

Washington D.C.
A City Back Street 

FBI Assistant Director Skinner stood quietly in the shadowed doorway 
of a decaying building and watched the dark alley across the street. 
He had been summoned here by Alex Krycek with the promise of crucial 
information. A summons that his gut told him he could not afford to 
ignore. 

He knew, he absolutely knew he should not be here. It went against 
everything that he was, by the book, careful, a stickler for proper 
procedures. If Fox Mulder knew he was here, he would throw a fit and 
rightfully so. 

Just last night, and for doing this very thing, Mulder had been 
punished. Skinner had watched the TV program "60 Minutes" with his 
ill-behaved young slave lying naked across his knees. During each 
commercial break Skinner would take up a sturdy little paddle and 
pepper the bare butt so conveniently presented to him for 
chastisement. 

During the actual program, the AD's hand would absently caress the 
smooth skin that got hotter with each <we'll be right back> uttered by 
the excessively groomed and polished newsmen. It was the longest hour 
of television Mulder had ever experienced. By the time Andy Rooney had 
expressed his questionable view of the world, Mulder's squirming 
backside was a bright flaming red, and he was expressing his urgent 
desire to convince his Master that he would never meet with an 
informant, by himself, in a dark secluded alley again. 

Skinner knew that there were those who would not understand the 
discipline he inflicted on Mulder. They would think that someone who 
had, for all intents and purposes, been an abused child should not be 
subjected to such treatment. What they failed to understand was 
Mulder's deep need for pain. He had been raised on it and it was all 
he knew or expected. Skinner controlled that need by controlling the 
pain. He was very careful with Mulder. Never bruising him or causing 
any permanent damage. He knew what instruments to use and how to use 
them. Mulder got his pain but in very restricted doses and mixed with 
a good deal of loving and erotic domination that masked as punishment. 
If not for Skinner, Mulder would have sought the pain on his own with 
the dire consequences inevitable. 

Skinner smiled as he remembered last night's session and how he had 
later slid himself into that beautiful hot bottom and brought his 
newly repentant slave to screaming release. Mulder's pain and 
pleasure, now so tightly interwoven they were hardly recognizable from 
each other. His pleasant reflections were interrupted by movement in 
the alley. Krycek. Skinner used a circumspect route that he had mapped 
out ahead of time and entered the designated meeting place from the 
far end. He was surprised when the double agent turned almost 
immediately and greeted his approach with a wide smile. 

"Why the hell can't you teach that incessant brat of yours to be this 
cautious. He would have been standing out on the street, in plain 
sight, with an <I'm pretty - kidnap me> sign on his chest." 

"I'm working on him." 

Krycek leered at him, "No doubt you are." 

The big AD's only answer was to throw the younger man up hard against 
the filthy brick wall behind him. "What do you want, Alex?" 

Krycek felt perspiration break out on his upper lip as he stared into 
the annoyed brown eyes so close to his own. "I . . . I just wanted . . 
. damn it, put me down and I'll tell you." 

"You don't tell me what to do, slave, it works the other way around or 
have you forgotten already?" A hard shake brought Krycek's head into 
intimate contact once more with the bricks at his back. 

"And just what do I get out of this little arrangement . . . Sir?" 

His head pounded against the wall yet again, "You get to give me the 
opportunity to practice my Domination skills on someone I don't love. 
Someone, in fact, that I could care less about. It's a great honor, 
Alex." Another fierce shake against the bricks, "Now, why the hell did 
you invite me to this filthy alley? And it had better be good." 

"They . . . they're . . . " 

"They're what, Alex?" Skinner growled at the dazed man in his hands. 

"They're going to take Mulder . . . and you . . . back to Camp Fresh 
Start." 

Skinner let the man go as suddenly as he had grabbed him. "When?" 

"I'm not sure . . . soon. You have to be prepared." 

Skinner snorted, "Prepared? I don't see how I could ever prepare 
Mulder for another visit to that hell-hole." 

"Mulder can't do anything. They'll strip him the minute they take him. 
But you'll be shown more consideration. Keep plenty of lube packets on 
you, even when you sleep, those bastards prefer dry penetration, and 
you need to be ready. And get Scully to give you drugs, anything that 
might be useful to keep Mulder on his feet." 

Krycek stared off into the distance. "There are others, important 
members of the Group, who want to take Mulder away from you. Want him 
for themselves. You have to be prepared to defend him at all costs," 
Krycek looked at him with imploring eyes, "If you fail, you'll never 
see him again." 

"How do you know this?" 

"I have my sources and they're none of your business. What is your 
business is Mulder. You have to convince Them that you can handle him. 
While you're at Fresh Start, you have to prove that you are the 
consummate Dom. None of this spanking your wild child's cute little 
ass and then consoling him until he's so spoiled he can't see 
straight." 

"Jealous, Alex?" 

"Maybe. But I'm not the point - Fox is. This visit will be a test, of 
your skill and his obedience. From what I've seen, you're ready, but 
he isn't. I know you don't want to break him. Hell, I wouldn't want to 
see that either. But you have to explain to him what will be expected. 
He has to play his part to perfection, as do you." 

Skinner turned to walk away, "He'll do fine. I love him, Alex, but I 
don't spoil him. I have him under complete control at all times." 

* * * 

"He did what!" 

Scully looked at him with the perfect mask of professionalism on her 
pretty face but Skinner could see it was no easy thing this time. "He 
broke into the Pentagon's underground storage facility last night. My 
understanding is that he entered with a forced security card that he 
got from the Lone Gunmen. Byers, Langley and Frohike were arrested 
shortly after Mulder's illegal entry and are now being held at police 
headquarters on erroneous charges. Mulder is missing. I can only 
assume that the Gunmen were arrested so that they couldn't help 
Mulder, wherever he may be." 

"But . . . but he said he was going to visit his mother for the 
evening." 

"Unless Mrs. Mulder has taken up residence in the basement of the 
Pentagon, I'd say that he lied to us." 

Skinner took off his glasses and scrubbed at his face, "Scully, would 
it really upset you if I killed him?" 

"At this point, Sir - no. It would save me a bullet." 

Skinner put his glasses back on, expelling a deep breath through 
parted lips. "So where do we go from here, Agent Scully?" 

"I would suggest, Sir, that we clear up the matter of the false arrest 
of the Gunmen and see what they can tell us about Mulder's motives for 
last night's little adventure. Perhaps they know something that can 
help us find him." Scully's stoicism finally broke and she put both 
hands up to rub at her aching temples, "Didn't we just do this? I 
don't see any way around it, Sir. This time . . . we find him, we 
chain him to our bed, we never have to look for him again." 

"I like the way you think, Agent Scully. Come on, let's go rescue the 
Three Stooges," he pointed a finger in her direction, " And you're 
responsible for making sure I don't pull my weapon on <them>." 

"I can't promise anything, Sir, unless they immediately start singing 
like little birds. I am just not in the mood for any of their usual 
<we have to protect Mulder> shit." 

* * *

Deep Cover Lair of 
The Lone Gunmen 

Frohike looked nervously at the two angry federal officers looming 
over him. 

"I'm telling you, we don't know what he wanted to find in there. He 
said he got a tip and that it could endanger our lives if he told us. 
We were monitoring the wire that we had on him and then the gestapo 
showed up and busted us. We didn't even have a chance to warn him." 

Scully turned to her boss, "It's just too convenient, Sir. It was a 
trap from the beginning." 

"I'm afraid you're right, Scully. If Krycek information is correct, I 
need to make myself available for pick-up. I don't like to think of 
Mulder being in that place without me there to protect him." 

"Do you have everything, Sir?" 

Skinner patted his trench coat pockets. "Yeah, everything I can think 
of anyway. I just wish we knew exactly what they had in mind." 

"Did you have a chance to talk to Mulder about the situation?" 

"Yeah, I talked to him, he knows that he has to play his part 
perfectly, no temper tantrums, no displays of rebellion , no smart 
mouth." 

"Is he ready?" 

~ ~ ~

Skinner flashed to the night before. 

A naked Mulder kneeling back on his heels in the playroom, knees 
widely spread displaying that lovely cock of his, hands clasped behind 
his neck, fresh new bar of Irish Spring between his teeth. Tears 
rolling down his cheeks from the caustic taste of the soap but 
defiance still sparking green fire in his eyes. 

"Are you ready to stop the temper tantrums and listen to me now?" 

Mulder finally nodded his head as Skinner reached down and grabbed the 
soap out of his mouth. 

"We are going to this camp, there is nothing that either of us can do 
to stop that. I wish I could but I don't have that kind of power. And 
when we get there, you <will> do everything I say. You and I have an 
arrangement here and it works for us. But those men cannot know about 
that. You will have to play the part of the compliant slave and I your 
demanding Master, 24/7, Mulder. I won't be lenient on you there; I 
can't allow myself to go easy on you while they're watching. You have 
to be ready for that. If you rebel against me, I <will> be harder on 
you. That will just make it that much more difficult for both of us." 

"That is such bullshit, Skinner!" 

"Mulder! Stop it! I do not get off on hurting you. You know that! You 
have to listen to me. When they take us there, it will be a different 
world - their world. I will be forced to hurt you. You have to trust 
me, obey me and I <will> get us both out of there in one piece. I 
promise." 

"You love this, don't you? You probably helped plan it! You get off on 
controlling me! You . . . " 

Skinner shoved the soap back in his willful slave's lush mouth, then 
buried his face in his hands. He felt like crying. They were doomed. 

~ ~ ~

"Sir? . . . Sir?" 

Skinner looked up into Scully's worried face. 

"I asked if Mulder was ready for this trip to the camp?" 

Skinner sighed deeply. "Not even close." 

"Hey!" Frohike demanded loudly, "Everything you can think of for what? 
Who has Mulder? Ready for what? Where is he?" 

Skinner and Scully turned to face the little geek, "Shut up, Frohike!" 

* * *

Hoover Building
Assistant Director Skinner's Office 

"Where is he?" 

Skinner watched as the cigarette smoke drifted around the <No Smoking> 
sign on his desk. Arrogant bastard. 

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, Mr. Skinner." 

"Don't give me that. I know he's been taken back at that damned camp 
of yours. Just take me to Mulder. Today. Now. If anyone hurts him, 
I'll kill every last one of you even if it takes me the rest of my 
life." 

"You've turned out to be such a violent man, Mr. Skinner, quite a 
surprise really. I would have thought you would have been relieved to 
be rid of the troublesome Agent Mulder." 

"You thought nothing of the kind," Skinner stood up and leaned across 
the desk, his face a mask of uncontrolled rage. "Take me to him! Now!" 

"Very well. You were due for pick-up this evening but I suppose it 
matters little if you arrive early. Actually, I was on my way there 
myself, just to check up on the captivating Agent Mulder personally." 

Skinner grabbed his coat and followed the man out of the office, 
suppressing his very real urge to pull his weapon and put a bullet in 
the back of the old man's head. 

* * *

Camp Fresh Start
Several Hours Later 

Skinner paced his room at Camp Fresh Start impatiently. He had been 
here for almost two hours and still no sign of Mulder. He was very 
worried about the younger man. Each scenario that ran through his mind 
of what Mulder might be enduring became a little more gruesome until 
the AD was ready to break down the door and set out on his own to 
search for his missing slave. 

He flinched at the knock on the door. He rushed to open it, hoping to 
find his wayward agent, only to be confronted by a young man in a dark 
suit. 

"Mr. Skinner, Sir, your presence is required in the West Conference 
Room in thirty minutes. It is casual dress this evening, you will find 
clothing in the closet. Someone will come for you shortly. Thank you, 
Sir." 

The man was gone before Skinner could open his mouth to voice his many 
questions. Another half hour. Damn, what the hell was going on here? 
Where was Mulder? And what were they doing to him? Skinner changed 
into dark taupe dress slacks and a short sleeve black knit shirt. He 
liked the way the shirt fit, it's soft material giving him plenty of 
flexibility should he need to move quickly to defend himself or 
Mulder. 

The minutes dragged by until the AD was sure he was going to go stark 
raving mad and be of no help to Mulder at all. Finally, someone came 
for him and he followed yet another black suited man down an endless 
number of long winding hallways. He soon found himself back in the 
same conference room where he had first been given Mulder as a slave. 

He stopped dead in his tracks as he entered the room. It was furnished 
with the same tables and leather chairs as before but the podium at 
the front was gone. It had been replaced by Fox Mulder in bondage. 

He was naked and secured to a wooden slant board that reminded Skinner 
of a child's slide, an upright board about two feet wide with another 
board coming down at a sharp angle to the floor. Mulder was bent 
across this apparatus with his bare backside forced high into the air, 
his legs widely spread and secured by leather straps at both knees and 
ankles to the upright section of the structure. Another strap was 
holding him tightly across his trim waist. His arms had been forced 
high up between his shoulder blades and were attached to a strap that 
was around Mulder's forehead, keeping his head well up and facing the 
gathered men. It was obvious that they did not want to miss a moment 
of the pain that would register on his handsome face. Thankfully, his 
cock and balls had been tightly secured in a leather harness and were 
firmly fastened well out of harms way. 

His expressionless face and closed eyes gave away nothing to his cruel 
audience of what the agent was feeling. Only Skinner could tell by the 
set of the mouth how painful the widely spread legs, stretched arms 
and raised head were even to muscles kept limber and flexible by daily 
exercise. 

Skinner felt the anger rising in his chest and fought down the urge to 
release Mulder from his tormenting position. 

"It appears that your boy has been quite naughty, Mr. Skinner." 

"I would have handled it." 

"And so you shall. Tell us, Mr. Skinner, what is the punishment for a 
slave that breaks into a highly classified government facility without 
his Master's knowledge or consent. Are we correct in assuming that you 
knew nothing of Fox' activities last night?" 

Skinner walked over to face Mulder. At the sound of his Master's voice 
the wide hazel eyes had opened and were staring at Skinner with a 
strange combination of relief and terror. "Did you break into the 
Pentagon last night?" 

Mulder swallowed hard, "Yes, Sir." 

Skinner brought his arm above his shoulder and backhanded Mulder 
across the face and then brought the hand back the other direction 
punishing the other smooth cheek. He hadn't really hit that hard but 
still instant tears sprang into the slave's eyes as bright pink hand 
prints formed on his face. 

"Twenty lashes, Fox. I want you to keep your eyes open and on the men 
watching your punishment. I want you to see their faces as they watch 
your pain and humiliation as you scream under the whip." 

"That isn't very many lashes for such a grievous transgression, Mr. 
Skinner." 

"It will be enough." 

Skinner walked behind the bound and frightened man and selected a 
sturdy strap from a table holding many instruments of punishment, many 
more diabolical than the quite ordinary strap he now held in his hand. 

Taking aim at the tight little opening right between the widely spread 
cheeks, Skinner brought the strap down with a startling smack right on 
that most tender area. He was rewarded by a frenzied scream from his 
errant slave. Mulder deserved to be punished for his foolishness, just 
not this hard and not in front of these lecherous old devils. But it 
was important that the Group thought that Skinner was outraged and 
that Mulder paid the price for his sin. 

"One." Skinner called out and raised his arm for he next strike. 
Lashes two and three were delivered to the fleshiest part of the 
smooth white bottom and while not as devastating as the first, still 
caused the miscreant to cry out and try desperately to buck in his 
tight leather bindings. 

Skinner slowly delivered each stroke taking care to cover every inch 
of the squirming backside before him, from top to mid thigh. He was 
especially attentive to the crack running down the center of the 
bottom, and the delicate skin on the inside of the thighs. These 
strikes brought wild sobbing and pleas for mercy from his desolate 
slave. 

Breaking into the United States Pentagon was serious business. The 
Consortium knew it, Skinner knew it and if Mulder had not before, he 
knew it now. Skinner had no choice but to punish Mulder and punish him 
hard. After this display, there could be no cause to question 
Skinner's discipline of his slave. By striking his most intimate areas 
of Mulder's body, he did not have to administer as many strokes. The 
old men would be satisfied with Mulder's loud and obvious anguish. 

Skinner could see many of the corrupts old men smiling as each 
devastating stroke of the strap was counted off. He would not have 
been surprised to see some of them with their bony and age spotted 
hands down their pants. The whole thing sickened Skinner to death. 

When he finally reached the last stroke he took a deep breath and 
surveyed the damage he had done to his beautiful and beloved slave. 
Mulder was beyond comprehending, sobbing and babbling for the 
enjoyment of the Consortium, his butt a mass of angry scarlet blisters 
punctuated by deeper crimson welts. 

Skinner walked around the bench and pressed the leather strap to 
Mulder's lips. The dazed hazel eyes opened in confusion, "Kiss the 
strap and thank me for punishing you." 

Mulder stared at him for a moment, then did as he was told. His full 
lips pressed against the still warm leather, "Thank you for punishing 
me, Master." 

"You're welcome, now apologize to these gentlemen for wasting their 
valuable time on such a disobedient slave." 

Mulder hesitated, earning a glare from his Master. 

"Do it, Fox. Or do you want another ten right now?" 

Mulder swallow and opened his mouth, glanced up at the warning look on 
his Master's face, and swallowed again. "I . . . I apologize for . . . 
for wasting your time." 

Skinner lifted a clean white handkerchief to Mulder's face and gently 
wiped away the tears and sweat. He then released the strap that was 
around Mulder's forehead and laid his agent's head down on the slant 
board. 

A nod from the English Gentleman and two junior members rushed forward 
to turn Mulder's bench, putting his flaming backside on full display 
for the assembled Consortium members. 

"Very nice, Mr. Skinner, that is a very well punished arse, indeed." 
The Englishman smirked as he stared at the ruined bottom in front of 
him. He lifted his hands and began to clap them together. Soon the 
others joined in with applause in mocking tribute to Skinner's 
abilities. The applause was short lived as Skinner frowned pure death 
in their direction. 

"I think our Fox will spend the next hour or so on display in our 
lobby, a few members will be arriving later and I'm sure they would be 
regretful to miss such an inspiring display as this." At his nod the 
two junior members came forward and rolled Mulder, still painfully 
attached to his torture bench, out the door and down the hallway 
toward the main entrance of Camp Fresh Start. 

"He will be brought to your room after his exhibition, Mr. Skinner. 
You are to join us for dinner tonight. Formal attire is required for 
yourself, Fox' clothing should appropriately reflect his slave status. 
You will find everything you need in your room." 

* * *

Skinner's Room
One Hour Later 

"What did you do to him!" 

Skinner rushed forward to take the limp body out of the hands of the 
man who had entered his room carrying Mulder. He laid Mulder carefully 
on his stomach in the middle of the large bed. 

"He looks worse than he is. He got a little mouthy with one of the 
late arrivals but he didn't get much extra punishment really. He just 
couldn't get his legs under him after being tied to that bench for so 
long, collapsed right into my waiting arms. He'll be fine in a little 
bit, Mate." 

The big raw boned Aussie reached into his pocket and pulled out a 
small flat jewelers box. "This is for you, to pretty up your boy. Not 
that Gorgeous there needs much help in that direction." He threw the 
black velvet box on the table when Skinner made no effort to reach for 
the elegant case. 

The Aussie smiled, "See you and your pretty friend at dinner, Mate." 
He laughed as he went out the door. "You don't have to do anything 
with that box right now just be sure you take it to dinner with you." 

Skinner was just beginning to worry when Mulder finally opened his 
glassy hazel eyes and looked up at him up over his shoulder, "I hate 
this place." 

Skinner smiled down at his pale young slave, rubbing his hand in 
soothing circles on the smooth warm skin of his back. 

"Yeah, it's just that kind of place, Fox. Let me get some salve for 
your butt." 

"You hurt me . . . bad." Mulder pouted when the AD returned with the 
ointment. 

"I had to. Besides, with only a few exceptions as to where those 
strokes were delivered on your body, you would have gotten the same 
thing at home when I found out about that trick you pulled last night. 
What the hell was so important that you had to break into that place 
again?" 

Mulder looked around the room and spotted the camera in the corner. He 
raised a questioning brow to Skinner. 

The AD smiled and nodded toward an ordinary looking hairbrush lying 
innocently on the desk, then laughed as Mulder swallowed hard. "That's 
not for you, Brat, it's a gift from those strange little allies of 
yours. Our Consortium friends can still see us but not hear us. They 
will be driving themselves crazy trying to repair their equipment 
while we're here." 

"Better not let them catch you with that." 

"That's my problem to worry about. Now, quit stalling and tell me why 
you felt the need to break into the Pentagon again, Brat." 

"I was told that I would find records of experiments that were 
conducted on you while you were in Vietnam." 

"I was not experimented on in Vietnam." 

"How do you know?" 

"I just know." He grabbed Mulder's chin and lifted his head to meet 
his eyes, turning the agent's jaw from side to side, inspecting the 
handsome face. 

"What?" 

"I keep expecting to find the word <Sucker> tattooed on your forehead 
somewhere." 

Mulder jerked his head away, "Very funny." 

"Very true. Stop letting the people you love be used to put you in 
danger, Fox. I mean it. Every two bit lowlife on the street knows just 
what to say to make Agent Fox Mulder throw down his gun and grab his 
ankles." 

Mulder decided he needed to change the subject, "I think the two of 
the members who arrived late, Mr. Hoskins and a Mr. Delaney are going 
to challenge you for ownership of me." 

"What makes you think that?" 

"Just the things they were saying to their bodyguards and the way they 
were touching me." 

"They were touching you!?" Skinner face was turning an unhealthy shade 
of red once more. Time for another quick shift in conversation. 

"Yeah, well. What's in the box?" He nodded toward the velvet box on 
the table. 

"I don't know. I think I might not want to know." 

"Just so it's not a damned strap, I don't care. I don't ever want 
another beating like the one you gave me today." 

"Good, maybe you'll behave then." Skinner walked over and picked up 
the box. He opened it as if a poisonous snake might jump out and 
attack him at any moment. "What the hell?" 

"What is it?" 

Skinner turned to box for Mulder to see the two gold rings that were 
in the box. 

"I . . . I . . . " Mulder stopped and took a deep breath, "I think the 
smaller hoop is for my ear. As for the larger one, I'm not sure I want 
to know." 

"Shit, Mulder." 

Mulder looked impossibly paler as he stared at the sparkling gold 
rings. "Well, my ear is already pierced at least." 

He chuckled at Skinner's raised eyebrow, "A souvenir from my misspent 
youth, Sir. What? Are you thinking that every time I leave your 
office, I sneak into the bathroom to don my genuine ET moon rock 
earring, before heading out on a case?" 

"The only thing that surprises me is when you don't surprise me." 
Skinner stood up closing the tub of ointment. "Get some rest, I have a 
feeling we are going to need it tonight." 

Mulder awaked feeling much better even if his backside did still feel 
as if it had been caught in a fire. He watched disheartened as Skinner 
dressed in the black tux that had been left for him earlier in the 
day. He had found no clothing in his size that did not look like it 
had been purchased at Bondage R' Us. 

"Why do I always have to be the naked one?" 

"Because you're so good at it." 

As the lush bottom lip popped out in a perfect pout, Skinner pulled 
the younger man close against his chest. "Tell you what, we'll just 
see how creative we can be with your clothing for tonight. How does 
that sound to you?" 

Mulder eyed him for a few moments, "Scary as hell." 

* * * 

Camp Fresh Start
Formal Dining Room 

Skinner tugged discretely on the least, pulling his reluctant 
companion into the dining room. Mulder was, to a point, wearing normal 
clothing but still angry and embarrassed about how he looked. Skinner 
shook his head, the man looked gorgeous, that was how he looked. He 
tugged again, hoping no one would notice the hesitancy of his 
troublesome slave. In actuality, the words slave and Mulder should 
never be used in the same sentence. 

"Very nice, Mr. Skinner. You do have a way with that boy's clothing." 

Mulder blushed scarlet from the top of his head to the middle of his 
chest. He had on black leather wrist and ankle cuffs, a black leather 
collar and leash and one of Skinner's starched and pressed white linen 
dress shirts, unbuttoned, the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. 
Other than that he was naked. Unless Mulder was very careful about the 
way he moved, the tip of his cock would show, dangling just beneath 
the front of the shirt. His hands were held behind his back, assigned 
the task of holding the shirt up and above his still red and welted 
backside, leaving it bare and on full display, much to the enjoyment 
of the large group of men circulating around the room. 

As commanded, Mulder kept his head bowed, his eyes on his own bare 
legs, trying desperately to move as little as possible and save the 
indignity of publicly displaying his genitals. He didn't want to look 
these men in the face anyway. 

After the dozen well dressed men had sufficient time to ogle Mulder, 
they moved to seat themselves at the dinner table, Mulder lowered 
himself to his knees beside Skinner's chair, his head still down. A 
beam of candlelight caught the small gold hoop fastened to his right 
ear causing it to sparkle. 

"I see you received our little gift. Quite lovely and so nice that Fox 
was already pierced. Was his nipple already prepared as well?" 

Skinner laid the velvet box down beside his plate. "No, only his ear 
was done." 

"That's fine. It will give us something to look forward to after 
dinner. A nipple ring will be lovely on such a beautiful young man." 
He studied his unwilling dinner companion. "Or are you planning to 
pierce his penis, Mr. Skinner? It would make it quite sensitive to 
your touch." 

"He's already sensitive to my touch. A nipple ring will do well 
enough." 

Skinner laid a heavy hand on Mulder's quivering shoulder and frowned 
at him when he looked up. The message was clear, he was to do as he 
was told and show no rebellion. Besides, a simple piercing, though 
momentarily painful, would cause no real damage. Skinner had decided 
at the beginning of this ordeal that he would pick his battles 
carefully. 

Mulder sat through dinner in a daze. Obediently opening his mouth when 
Skinner either pushed in a bite of food or more often lifted a wine 
glass to his cold lips. Halfway through the meal, Skinner abandoned 
the food and wine, moved on to straight scotch. Mulder had coughed and 
sputtered after the first drink but then adjusted quickly to the burn 
of the liquor going down his throat. The usually abstaining Mulder was 
throughly inebriated when the meal finally ended, and he was hauled to 
his feet to stagger after his Master into the den. 

Mulder had no sooner crossed the threshold than he was set upon by two 
large men, stripped of his lone garment and tied with his back to the 
whipping post in the middle of the room. A large heavy strap was 
secured around his waist, others fastened to his chest, thighs, knees, 
and ankles. Finally his collar was secured to the post, allowing him 
no movement of his head. He felt his wrists fastened to the strap from 
his collar. If he tried to struggle, he could well cut off his own air 
supply. 

Mulder felt trapped and panicked, fighting the restraints. Skinner 
walked up in front of him to sooth him as one would a trapped and 
desperate animal. Finally Skinner was forced to lightly slap him to 
get his attention. The wild overly bright eyes turned immediately to 
his Master. 

"Stop struggling, Fox. Stop it now! I will not tolerate this show of 
defiance." As Mulder calmed, he lowered his voice to a gentle whisper, 
"I want your nipple pierced, Fox. Me! No one else is responsible for 
this except me. I am your Master and I say you will be pierced. I want 
to see your beautiful chest adorned with the gold ring. I expect you 
to hold quietly and allow my wishes to be carried out. Do you 
understand me, Fox?" 

Mulder nodded after only a moments hesitation, his eyes still wide and 
terrified. He whimpered as a man walked toward him with a long needle 
in his right hand. The man set the needle aside and rubbed a cotton 
pad smelling of alcohol across his left nipple causing it to pucker 
and grow hard. 

Mulder whimpered again but held quietly in his bindings, his eyes 
focused on his Master. 

"I think our Fox needs a little distraction." The English Gentleman 
motioned for one of the junior members to come forward. The young man 
smiled happily and dropped to his knees in front of Mulder. 

The Brit looked up into Skinner's irritated eyes. As the AD acquiesced 
by a small angry nod his head, the man took Mulder's flaccid cock 
deeply into his mouth and sucked strongly. 

"NOOOOO!" 

The man with the needle moved forward and placed it against the side 
of the prepared nipple, pushing it through delicate flesh while his 
patient screamed from a combination of overwhelming emotions. 

Mulder's head spun from too much scotch, pain and embarrassment. It 
was the worse kind of public humiliation to be swallowed by the hot, 
wet mouth of a stranger while another pushed a needle through your 
nipple. 

Thanks to Skinner's thoughtful donation of a good deal of hard liquor, 
the pain was not unbearable but it made the pleasure in his groin that 
much more intense. He wanted to save his dignity. He wanted to 
withhold his final defeat. He did not want to come in this mans mouth. 
But he felt his muscles stiffen as his body prepared to betray him in 
even this. As the needle pushed it's way through and the gold hoop was 
fastened into place, he came hard into the waiting mouth attempting to 
devour him. The world around him faded to grey. 

Mulder hung limply in his restraints as the man pulled away from him, 
licking his lips greedily. 

Skinner watched with both disgust and excitement. Mulder was a 
beautiful sight when he was in the throughs of passion. And he had 
come hard despite his obvious reluctance and the pain of the piercing. 
Fox Mulder was a sight to behold at almost any time but like this - 
with a thin sheen of perspiration covering his body, long eyelashes 
lying darkly on pale cheeks and those delicate gold rings sparkling 
from both ear and nipple. Skinner found himself growing hard within 
the confines of his elegant pants. He wanted Mulder. Wanted him now. 
Wanted to release his slave and throw him to the ground shoving 
himself deep inside the beautiful man right here - right now - before 
he dragged him upstairs to do it all over again. He also felt 
disgusted with himself for feeling that way. 

"Mr. Skinner, you will take your slave now so that we may all witness 
your claim on him." 

The guards moved forward to release Mulder from his bindings. The 
agent's knees immediately buckled, and he collapsed into Skinner's 
waiting arms. It would appear that Mulder was going to once more miss 
his public rape for the benefit of the Group. 

Or maybe not. Skinner watched as the Aussie came forward, a smirk on 
his face, to push smelling salts beneath Mulder's nose. The effect was 
immediate and Mulder began to gag and struggle in Skinner's arms. 

"And I warn you, we expect more of an example of your . . . sexual 
technique than we received in New York. Can you force your obedient 
little slave come again so soon, Mr. Skinner?" 

Skinner lowered his lips and kissed Mulder on his temple, "Sh-h-h-h. 
Calm down. I'm right here with you. No one will touch you but me." 
Skinner waited until Mulder had calmed in his arms. The AD was 
immensely relieved that he had lubed Mulder before they came down 
here. "You need to lean over this table, Fox. I'm going to make love 
to you now." 

He watched as Mulder's eyes tracked around the room of impatient and 
eager men. "No please . . . not here." 

"Sh-h-h-h . . . this isn't about them." Skinner rubbed his hands up 
and down Mulder's arms as he lowered him across a sturdy table. "This 
is about how beautiful you are to me. How much I want you." 

He ran his hands down his trembling slaves sides and across his still 
red buttocks. "Do you remember, Fox, when you and Scully and I went to 
South Carolina for that long weekend?" 

Skinner waited as Mulder just lay there and trembled, not sure if the 
terrified young agent had even heard him. 

"Do you remember that weekend, Fox? You and me and Scully in that 
little bungalow right on the ocean?" 

Finally Mulder nodded, still trembling but now concentrating on 
Skinner's soft, mesmerizing words. "Remember how you couldn't sleep 
one night and I found you down on the couch watching television. You 
thought you were going to be punished but I took you for a walk on the 
beach instead." 

A soft kiss placed behind Mulder's ear sent a shiver of another kind 
through the younger mans body. He nodded his head at his Master, 
remembering well that moonlit beach. 

"You were so beautiful then, too. Remember how I stripped you and laid 
you down in the sand. How my hands felt on your moon drenched body? 
Tell me, Fox, do you remember?" 

"Ye . . . yes, Sir." Mulder could feel those big warm hands everywhere 
on his sensitive skin and Skinner's hot lips exploring his neck and 
face. 

"Do you remember how the sand felt under your body? Feel it, Fox, feel 
that warm sand under you. Feel the gentle breeze blowing softly across 
our bodies. Do you feel it, Fox?" 

"Yes . . . I . . . it feels so good." Gentle hands and hot lips 
soothing his body. Owning him. Setting him free. Setting him on fire. 

"Can you smell the irresistible scent of flowers in the fresh ocean 
air?" 

"Ye . . . yes." 

"That's right, it smells wonderful, doesn't it? Everything feels so 
wonderful. That cool salt water gently lapping at our feet. Feel it, 
Fox. Do you feel that gentle caressing water?" 

"Yes . . . Sir." 

"And I'm there with you, Fox. Can you feel what I'm doing to you on 
that beach? Do you feel my hands on you? My mouth? Do you feel me 
worshiping your beautiful body?" 

"Yes! Yes!" Skinner gently entered his slick passage. Slowly and 
carefully. 

"Do you remember how I felt inside you that night. There was no one 
there to see us. Just you and I and all those glorious stars and all 
that soft warm sand and those gentle lapping waves. Can you feel me 
take you, Fox?" 

"Yesyesyesyes . . . " Skinner pumped into the gorgeous ass under him. 

"You came for me that night, Fox. You screamed your pleasure to the 
stars and the ocean and to me. Come for me now, Fox. Let me take you 
to those stars again. Come on, Baby, come for me. Now." 

And Mulder did. Lost in the sweet smell of ocean surf and fresh summer 
breeze and Skinner's expert hands and mouth. Mulder came and came 
until he felt the world go gray around him once more. 

Skinner quickly found his own release, readjusted his clothing and 
picked Mulder up into his arms. He turned toward the door, ignoring 
the spellbound faces of the silent men standing in the room. 

"If you gentlemen will excuse me, I believe my slave needs to rest 
now." 

* * * 

"You have been challenged for ownership of Fox, Mr. Skinner." 

"Hardly surprising. Fox is an extraordinary prize. But tell me, who is 
foolish enough to try to take him away from me?" 

"Your first adversary will be Mr. Joshua Hoskins, a prominent Group 
member from New Zealand. He has proposed a card game. Poker, I 
believe. Winner take all." 

"A poker game?" Skinner scoffed, "I don't think so. Mulder is much to 
valuable to me to risk with something so frivolous. Absolutely not." 

"Come now, Mr. Skinner. A gentleman's' game of skill." 

"No, not for Mulder. I won't do it." 

The Englishman smiled condescendingly, "All right. We are not above 
compromise here. Let's say that if you best Mr. Hoskins at his game, 
he will pull out of the competition. If he wins, he will get another 
chance to gain the ownership of your slave - in another way." 

"It would appear that I have little choice but to concede to this 
insanity." 

"I would agree, Mr. Skinner. Mr. Hoskins challenge must be answered 
one way or another. I would suggest you save yourself for Mr. 
Delaney's challenge. I believe he is more into physical shows of 
strength." 

* * * 

Skinner inspected his slave thoughtfully. Naked except for tight faded 
jeans and another of Scully's little craft projects. This one was a 
standard leather and steel cock cage. The leather wrapped snugly 
around the base of the shaft and behind the balls, riveted into an 
elongated penis cage with a d-ring on the end. And Scully's little 
addition, at the top of the cage she had attached long sable hair from 
an expensive artist's paint brush. Wonderfully soft, the pliable hair 
brushed over the head of the cock is a slow, soft, tormenting swirl. 
Barely there - hardly felt - and yet, insidious in its ability to 
arouse. A constant tease without hope of enough stimulation for 
fulfillment. On its trial run, they had tortured Mulder for three 
hours one evening. He had ended up on his knees in front of Skinner, 
while Scully smiled smugly, begging his Master to take him to bed. 
That had been a first for the AD's vacillating male lover. 

Skinner looked at said lover now. Golden skin, shaded with soft dark 
hair across this chest and disappearing into the pants. A thin leather 
leash coming up from the cock cage's d-ring and hanging over the waist 
of the jeans. Sexy bare feet and . . . 

arms crossed defiantly across his chest - cat green eyes spitting hell 
and brimstone. 

"Stop pouting. I could dress you in a leather thong." He glared at his 
slave with one eyebrow raised. "Or even nothing at all. I'm sure that 
would be much more interesting to this particular group. You should 
feel privileged to be wearing anything at all." 

"Huh!" 

"Watch the attitude, Fox. I have something I want you to do while I 
play poker." He held out a thick red book. Read this, I will be 
testing you on it's contents later, and you will answer every question 
correctly or your bare bottom will have an in depth discussion with my 
paddle. Your choice." 

Mulder took the thick book from his Master's hands, squinting at it. 
Skinner reached down into this coat pocket once more and pulled out 
Mulder's's wire rim glasses, placing them on his sub's nose. Mulder 
didn't even notice or wonder why the AD had them. He also had no idea 
how splendid he looked in those glasses. 

"You are going to test me on the proper way to build a chicken coop?" 

Skinner sighed, "It isn't a chicken coop, it's an outbuilding. I 
thought it would be a good idea if we built one on the far edge of our 
property when we get home." 

"What for? We can't have chickens. They would die of neglect like my 
fish do. Except you couldn't flush them. Well . . . I mean you could . 
. . but . . . I had a case once where this guy . . . but that wasn't 
chickens it was pigeons . . . not much difference, still a lot of 
feathers . . . sure was a hell of a mess . . . but chickens would be 
worse . . . " 

"Shut up!" Mulder nearly jumped out of his skin, blinking in confusion 
at the fierceness of his boss' bark. His eyes widened behind those 
glasses, his lip coming out in a pout. 

Skinner sighed. That pout was a real diversion and Mulder knew it. 
"Just read the damned thing, including electrical and plumbing, and be 
prepared to discuss it over breakfast . . . or else. Is that clear?" 

"Yes, Sir." Still pouting. 

"Good. Let's go." Mulder hissed loudly as Skinner grabbed the cock 
leash and headed for the door. 

Skinner walked into the small salon where the poker game was to take 
place being trailed by the world's sexiest college professor. He 
wondered if Mulder noticed the admiring looks he was getting from the 
tip of his toes to those glasses on his nose. The man was wet dream 
come to life dressed like this and it was obvious on the faces of the 
other men in the room. 

He glanced back at Mulder who was still staring down at the book in 
his hand, a look of total confusion on his gorgeous face. 

"Sit here, Fox." Skinner motioned to a wingback chair a few inches 
away from the poker table. Mulder gave him a surprised look, he had 
fully expected to spend the evening on the floor. Skinner made sure 
that his slave was positioned so every other player had a clear view. 
Skinner sat down in the chair next to Mulder's, wrapping the end of 
the leash around his hand. Mulder squirmed in his seat, moaning 
softly, as the cage was tugged on and the tip of his cock was assailed 
by the sable hair inside. Damn, Scully was such a clever little 
sadist. 

"Ready to play?" Skinner looked around the table. All eyes were on his 
slave. The golden ring in Mulder's nipple must be itching because the 
young man had lifted one elegant hand up to his chest and was absently 
scratching just above the hard little nub as he began to read the book 
that he held in his hand. All eyes were on that nipple and the rather 
large bulge in the front of those tight faded jeans. 

Skinner cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, can we start the game? I'd 
like to get this out of the way, I have other plans for Fox this 
evening." He thought he could actually see the men start to drool. 

As the game played on, Skinner noticed his fellow players becoming 
even more distracted. He glanced over at Mulder. He was totally 
engrossed in the book now, in a way that only Mulder could. A look of 
absolute concentration on his handsome face, oblivious to whatever was 
going on around him. It made a man wonder what else Mulder could focus 
on with that degree of attention. 

He was slouched bonelessly in the chair, one long leg thrown over the 
side, washboard abs on full and tantalizing display. Still squirming 
occasionally as his cock was teased gently. He would sporadically 
throw back his head and moan softly, eyes dilated and hooded, as his 
throbbing cock demanded his attention away from his studies. 

The tightly wrapped package in the front of his jeans was accentuated 
as if straining to break free of the tight fabric. And he was chewing 
on that damned lip again. Every so often he would let it escape his 
teeth, looking slightly swollen and very wet - a just-kissed look that 
was driving the other men crazy. Skinner smiled to himself. For the 
last hour he had won almost every pot, and it seemed the men had 
hardly noticed. 

A discreet tug on Mulder's leash would start the side show in motion 
and Skinner would have to do little more than wait until the others 
folded their cards, then rake in his winnings. 

Skinner handed Mulder a small bag of sunflower seeds and received a 
delighted and dazzling smile in response. Skinner smiled back and 
returned to his game. That smile had captivated the other players. 
Mulder seldom smiled but when he did, few could resist him. Skinner 
smiled himself. Just wait, once Mulder started sucking on those seeds, 
this game was as good as over. 

As the AD raked in the final and deciding pot, he was interrupted by a 
growl from the man seated across the table. "This could almost be 
construed as cheating, Mr. Skinner." 

"What do you mean?" The AD growled back. 

"You two set this up on purpose. He has been playing at this game all 
evening. Just look at him. The both of you are in on it." 

"And what game would that be, Mr. Hoskins?" 

"He has deliberately thrown off my game." 

"I can assure you, Mr. Hoskins, Fox was not intentionally trying to 
distract you in any way." 

"He knew exactly what he was doing!" 

Skinner turned to his slave and spoke softly, "Fox." 

"Hum?" Mulder didn't bother to look up from the book he held on his 
lap. 

"Fox!" 

The sub responded immediately to the Dom voice. Straightening in his 
chair and eyeing the AD with some concern, "Yes, Sir?" 

"Mr. Hoskins thinks you have been trying to seduce him this evening. 
Is that true." 

Mulder had just about had enough. His cock was aching horrendously 
from the constant frustrating stimulation it was receiving. He was not 
interested in the building chicken coops and had to work at focusing 
on the damned book in his hands. His mind often wondering to his cock, 
forcing him to reread some paragraphs twice. Almost unheard of for 
him. And now some asshole had the audacity to think he had been 
flirting with him! 

"Damn it all! Who the fuck thinks I've been doing anything but sitting 
in this damned chair, reading this damned, fucking book all night?" 
Mulder glared at the other men around the table.

Skinner glared back at him, "That's enough, Fox. You can go back to 
your reading. I'm sorry I disturbed you." 

Mulder's storm-filled eyes still scanned the table and the AD sighed 
to himself. He had warned the boy, there wasn't much else he could do. 

He turned to the stunned men. "Does that sound like a man who has 
spent the evening trying to seduce you." 

"Doesn't sound like much of a slave either." One of the players 
offered. 

Another man snorted. "Skinner's right, Joshua. I've been watching the 
boy all night, the same as you have. He hasn't taken his nose out of 
that book. If you were distracted, it was your own doing." 

"I demand that he be punished for distracting me from my game and for 
that outburst. You need to control your slave, Mr. Skinner, or I 
will!" 

"No, you will not. Fox is mine, and I'll punish him when we return to 
our room. If you will excuse us gentlemen?"

"High card, Mr. Skinner. One final draw. If I win, you punish him 
while I watch." 

"I don't consider this very sporting of you, Mr. Hoskins. The terms of 
the agreement were that if I won this poker game you would give up 
your challenge for Fox. I don't remember anything about a high card to 
punish him in front of you." 

"I withdraw my challenge for Fox, Mr. Skinner. At least until next 
time. This is just a friendly little wager between <friends>." Skinner 
eyed the man. If he refused there would be more trouble. The AD nodded 
and the man put the deck out in front of them. "You may draw first, 
Mr. Skinner." 

Skinner turned his card over, a Jack of Clubs. The other man smiled in 
a self-satisfied manner and turned over his own card. Mulder's heart 
sank - a Queen of Diamonds. 

"Seems your little slut is going to get a spanking, Mr. Skinner." 

Mulder growled and started to rise from his chair but Skinner put out 
one big hand to shove him back down. "Behave." 

Hoskins rose from his chair and moved to an oak cabinet in one corner 
of the room. He opened the double doors and removed something. As he 
walked back Mulder saw that it was a paddle. Two foot long by six 
inches wide. A typical fraternity paddle. 

"I think your intellectual little college boy needs a good old 
fashioned paddling, Mr. Skinner." 

Skinner took the paddle and hefted it in his hands. It felt very heavy 
and would no doubt also be very effective. 

"Stand up, Fox." Mulder complied without thinking, his eyes locked on 
the paddle. 

"Were you ever paddled in school, Fox?" 

"Yes, Sir. Once, Sir." 

"For?" 

"Smart mouth, Sir." 

"Yes, of course, I should have known. Then you are familiar with the 
proper procedure. I want you to lower you jeans, bend over and grab 
your ankles. You are going to get six on the bare, Fox. They are not 
for him. Just consider these to be for all the times that I should 
have punished you for that mouth of yours." 

"Yes, Sir." Mulder's shaking hands reached for his zipper. He turned 
his back on his fascinated audience, lowered his jeans to his knees 
and bent over at the waist. He spread his legs for balance and grabbed 
both ankles with his hands. The marks from his previous strapping were 
still slightly visible on the smooth white skin. 

He glanced back up over his shoulder at his Master, his glasses still 
in place. Skinner had to force back a chuckle. Mulder did, for all the 
world, look just like a young college student about you get his 
comeuppance from a weary professor or maybe a financially overburdened 
father. 

"You will ask for each one by number, Fox, thank me for it and then 
ask for the next. You may begin when you are ready." 

Mulder swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut. His breath was 
coming in short gasps, "One please, Sir." 

Skinner brought the solid wooden paddle around with a sound smack. The 
paddle was long enough and wide enough to cover both cheeks and leave 
a wide burning stripe across the white skin. 

"Ough-h-h-h! Thank you, Sir. Oh! Two . . . two . . . please." 

The paddle connected once more, bringing Mulder up on his toes on 
impact and turning his entire bottom a bright red. He spread his legs 
a little wider to keep his balance. He did not want to fall on his ass 
in front of these men. The cock cage and leash now fully displayed to 
the deviate men. 

"Thank you, Sir." He hesitated a long moment, then another, finally - 
"Three, please." The paddle sang through the air before landing on the 
unfortunate target in its pathway. The impact sounded like a shotgun 
blast in the quiet room. 

"Shit! Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! . . . Thank you, Sir. . . . Ow! Four please." 

Mulder hardly had the words out before the paddle was exploding 
against his bottom. The wood was now covering previously smacked skin 
and the burn was tremendous. 

"Ouc-h-h-h! Oh! Th . . . thank you, Sir. Fi . . . five . . . please." 
He heard Skinner's slight grunt as he delivered the stroke. 

"Ah-h-h-h! Please, Sir, please." His bottom was throughly blistered, a 
solid sheet of throbbing red. 

"Please what, Fox?" 

"Uh-h-h . . . please . . . uh . . . six, Sir. Uh--h-h, I mean . . . 
thank you, Sir. Six please." 

The final stroke actually seemed to hurt less. Mulder was unsure if 
Skinner had pulled up a little or if his backside had gone numb. 

"All right, Fox. Get up and pull up your jeans. Don't bother zipping 
them." 

Mulder did as he was told, wincing as the heavy fabric scraped against 
this tenderized butt. 

Without a word to the silent watchers, Skinner grabbed Mulder's leash, 
eliciting yet another yelp, and pulled him through the door. 

When they got to the room, Mulder pulled away and turned on his 
Master. "Why did you do that? Why did you paddle me in front of them 
like that? I didn't do anything. I didn't flirt with that man!" 

"I'm aware of that." 

"Then why did you hurt me like that." Skinner watched as tears formed 
in the hazel eyes. 

"Because I am your Master and I can fuck you or spank you or do 
anything else I want to do to you - when I want to and where I want to 
and in front of whomever I want to. Did you forget about that, Brat? 
Or perhaps you are anxious to go over my knee right now for a good 
spanking. Should be very effective on top of that paddling you just 
got. And I'm sure the men who are watching this room will enjoy the 
show, even if they are having problems with their audio equipment at 
the moment." 

Mulder engaged in a staring match for a few moments and then lowered 
his eyes. "No, I don't want any more." 

"Wise choice, Kid, now get your ass in that bed and I'll take care of 
that problem you have in the front of your pants. Scully's little 
invention seems to be quiet effective. You're about to burst through 
that denim." 

* * * 

Skinner stood in the front parade grounds waiting patiently for Mulder 
to be brought to him. He was nervous. Mr. Delaney, an older man from 
somewhere in the US, had challenged for ownership of Mulder. He had 
brought a stand-in, which seemed to be an acceptable practice at Camp 
Fresh Start. 

Skinner watched the huge man warm up a few yards away from him, 
practicing what appeared to be a combination of wrestling and dirty 
street fighting. He was a few inches taller than Skinner and quite a 
few pounds heavier. Skinner felt certain he could take him, he knew a 
few dirty moves of his own. 

Skinner was relieved and surprised when Mulder walked out of a doorway 
and started toward him. He was dressed! Granted the shorts were a lot 
shorter than anything Skinner had ever seen on Mulder, showing off a 
long expanse of tan, muscled leg. And the muscle shirt was very tight. 
But the man was actually covered for the most part. And best of all, 
he wasn't bleeding or have any new bruises. 

Skinner grabbed his face and inspected him closely. "So you actually 
behaved in there?" 

"Of course." Mulder smiled at him as Skinner snorted. 

Mulder looked over at the giant. "What do you think is going on?" 

"A fight, I would say." 

"Yeah. Think you can take him?' 

"Don't worry. I'll take him. I can't lose you, Fox." He watched as a 
smile spread across his slaves face, then added. "Scully might get mad 
at me." The smile instantly faded into a hurt look. Skinner laughed 
and reached up cuffing him on the back of the head. "Sucker." 

Their attention was drawn to the building as the large group of 
Consortium members filed out, taking their place around a large circle 
that had been scored into the ground. 

"As you know, Mr. Skinner," the English gentleman pointed to a heavy 
balding man at his side, "Mr. Delaney has challenged you for ownership 
of your slave. It will be a fight to the finish with his man, Oscar 
Welt. Are you ready to answer the challenge Mr. Skinner?" 

"I'm ready." 

Skinner raised his hands above his head, stretching out his muscles, 
prepared for the fight. Suddenly he felt Mulder pushed from his side 
and two large black clad men grabbed his arms. 

"What the hell! What's going on here?" He saw the giant, Welt, 
grinning at him from across the circle. 

"We are just preventing your interference, Mr. Skinner." 

"Interference? What the hell are you talking about? Let me go!" The 
men increased the strength of their hold on him bringing him down to 
his knees in the dirt. He looked around to see Mulder being similarly 
restrained by two other men. 

"We think it would be only fair if Fox got an opportunity to fight for 
his own life. Doesn't that seem only fair, Mr. Skinner?" 

Skinner struggled with all his might, "No!" One of his captors raised 
his fist ready to bring it down on Skinner's head. 

It was Mulder who screamed this time, "No! Don't hit him. I'll fight. 
Just leave him alone!" 

"Mulder, you can't!" Skinner looked at him with worried eyes. 

"Sure I can. I'm a lot tougher than I look." 

The Brit smiled in a self-satisfied manner, "Wise decision, Fox. Now 
for the rules. Mr. Welt, Fox is a valuable commodity to us, so you 
will not do anything to damage him permanently. No hitting above the 
chest or below the belt." 

Oscar's face fell. He had been looking forward to smashing the pretty 
boy's face. "But, I . . . " 

"You have heard the rules, Mr. Welt, believe me you do not want to 
anger this group with any noncompliance. It would not be at all 
healthy for you." 

"Fox, please take your place in the ring." 

Skinner watched amazed. The sheer size of Oscar Welt made Mulder look 
even younger and more defenseless but that was hardly the case. Welt 
had seriously underestimated his opponent and it began to tell early. 
Mulder was fast. Extremely fast and he fought dirty. Skinner had to 
wonder how a pampered rich kid from the Vineyard learned the art of 
street fighting. And then he remember, Mulder had hardly been 
pampered. He had been too pretty, too smart, too mouthy and totally 
unprotected by any adult. Mulder had learned to defend himself early 
in life. 

No matter what direction Welt lunged for Mulder, he came up with 
nothing but air and usually got a swift punch to the gut for his 
trouble. And the whole time Mulder taunted him. Skinner found himself 
quietly amused as Mulder verbally jabbed at the man - mocking him for 
his lumbering size, questioning the moral standards of his mother, 
emphasizing his obvious dull wits and ridiculing him for his probable 
sexual use by such an old and unattractive man. Skinner could see Welt 
become enraged as the match continued, throwing him into even more 
poorly thought out attempts to capture the pretty little smart-ass who 
was annoying him like a biting fly. 

Skinner held his breath as Welt connected a punch here and there on 
Mulder's body. Dark bruises began to form but they didn't seem to faze 
Mulder or even slow him down. With very few exceptions, Fox managed to 
maintain a safe distance from his enraged opponet. 

Mulder had just executed three vicious punches to Welt's lower back 
when the man suddenly bellowed with blind rage, turned and brought his 
foot up in a devastating kick to Mulder groin. As the agent doubled 
over in pain, the foot came up once more and landed square on his 
right temple. 

Mulder was unconscious before he hit the ground. 

Welt started to lift Mulder up, hoping for just enough time to kill 
the irritating little prissy boy before he was stopped. He wasn't fast 
enough. Three large men pulled him away and held him to the ground 
before he had a chance to do any more damage to the Consortium's 
prized possession. 

The Brit stared down at the struggling man with contempt, "You were 
told not to hit him in the face, Mr. Welt." Never taking his eyes off 
the man, he spoke to the guards holding him down. "Kill him." 

Delaney spoke up for the first time. "Now see here . . . " 

"We have rules here, Roger, you know that. You should have controlled 
your man more throughly. This match is forfeited. Mr. Skinner retains 
ownership of his property." 

As soon as Skinner was released he rushed to the side of his fallen 
agent, scooping him up into his arms, and holding him tightly against 
his own chest. He faced the group of men. 

"You're never happy until he's lying face down in the dirt are you? 
You can't believe that one of your own could produce someone not only 
brilliant and beautiful but honorable, loyal and above your petty 
little power games. He's a better man than any of you, so you strive 
bring him down. Well, you'll never bring him down to your level. 
Never!" 

With that Skinner turned and walked angrily back into the compound. 

* * * 

Mulder awoke slowly to the feel of a hand stroking his hair. He was in 
a car again and he was naked. No he was not going to be groped again! 
He started to struggle but stopped as he realized it was Skinner's lap 
he was practically sitting in, pulled up tightly against his broad 
strong chest. Mulder relaxed into the comforting warm of the man. He 
felt safe at last. 

Skinner's familiar voice whispered in his ear, "Sh-h-h, it all right. 
We're on our way home now. You will see Scully in just under an hour. 
How does that sound?" 

"Sounds good. Oh-h-h-h," Mulder reached up to rub his aching head, 
"What happened to me?" 

"You smart mouthed Oscar Weld until he clocked you. Not a smart move, 
Brat." 

Mulder looked around the limo, they were alone. "They let us go?" 

"Yeah. You still belong to me." 

Mulder smiled, eyes closing with relief. "Good." 

"You may not think good when I get you home." 

Mulder opened one eye and looked at his Master with apprehension. 
"Sir?" 

There is still the little matter of running off to break into the 
Pentagon." 

"But you already strapped me for that." 

"And getting those three weird friends of yours arrested." 

"But they . . . " 

"You had Scully and I worried to death. And you lied to us about 
visiting your mother. You know how I hate lies, Fox. I swear you are 
going to be the death of me yet. I don't know how many times I have to 
tell you. I should put you over my knee right now except I think 
Scully deserves to watch and maybe those three idiots, too. They did 
spend the night in jail because of your prank. I don't know why you . 
. . " 

Mulder closed his eyes. It was going to be a very long ride home. 

The End