Fresh Start Series
by DiAnn

Fresh Start - Part 7


Rating: NC17 - SLASH/ language/ BDSM/ Violence

Category: Pure Trash / Discipline / m/m Slash 

Warning: Scully/ Mulder/ Skinner Slash/Threesome
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: Another not very serious Fresh Start interlude. A normal 
weekend at the Skinner/Mulder/Scully house. Normal being a relative 
term. 

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. Also, thanks to everyone who gave me ideas on 
the Persuader's list. 

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

Fresh Start Part 7
By: DiAnn 

Their House
Suburbs of DC
Friday Night 

Fox Mulder sat in his car just looking at the house he shared with 
Skinner and Scully. Home. The first real home he had known in years. 
It was more than he deserved. What he deserved was that dark, dingy 
apartment that he still kept in Alexandria. He certainly did not 
deserve the warmth and love that he knew waited for him inside this 
house. 

He had just finished up a case. Another baby killer. Seventeen 
victims, girls between the ages of eight and twelve. All beautiful, 
with blue eyes and long golden blond hair. VCS had been working the 
case for eighteen months before someone pulled the right strings, and 
Spooky Mulder was forced to take the case. Mulder wasn't even sure who 
the string puller had been. No one had really seemed overjoyed to have 
him or his partner involved. Just the opposite, they had been harassed 
and ridiculed at every turn. 

It took just under three weeks of twenty-four hour days before Mulder 
had a profile that caught the killer. The first two weeks had been 
okay - not great- but okay. Scully had kept him rested, well fed, and 
sane. Then she had been called back to DC to testify in a case they 
had solved two months earlier. That last week, without Scully, had 
been hell for Mulder. 

Now it was all over. They had been one hour too late in locating the 
last victim. One more family destroyed because Mulder had not done his 
job quick enough. The SAC on the case had been so busy taking credit 
for the arrest that he had hardly noticed when an exhausted and 
haunted Mulder took the first available flight back to DC. 

Mulder finally mustered enough strength in mind and body to pull 
himself out of the car and stumble up the walk to the front door. He 
was glad to be home. Not because he would once again be in the arms of 
the two people who loved him but because he would be confronting his 
Master. His Master would know that he had not been good enough, or 
smart enough, or fast enough and Mulder would be punished accordingly. 

As he opened the door, he could hear Scully giggling from the 
direction of the kitchen. Scully giggling? Now there was a real 
X-File. This new <family life> agreed with her and Mulder was happy 
about that. It was just too bad that Spooky Mulder didn't deserve that 
kind of happiness for himself. 

Mulder stood leaning against the kitchen door frame, watching Skinner 
and Scully making dinner. They were laughing and talking. And 
something smelled so good that Mulder's empty stomach rumbled loudly. 

"If anybody gives a shit, I'm home." 

Both Skinner and Scully turned with huge smiles lighting their faces. 

Scully rushed forward to throw her arms around him. "Mulder! We were 
hoping that you would catch an early flight." Mulder rudely shook off 
his partner's efforts and moved toward the refrigerator for a beer. 

Scully glanced over at Skinner with a worried frown. Skinner decided 
to give it a try himself. "We heard that you solved the case, Mulder. 
Your profile was right on the money, as usual. Congratulations." 

"Don't congratulate me, Mr. AD Skinner. Seventeen kids dead. Hardly 
something to be proud of. Besides SAC Walker and his team are being 
credited with the arrest. He planned to call and thank you for sending 
me down there, even though my help wasn't really needed." Mulder 
sounded exhausted, defeated. 

"They aren't being credited with the arrest, Mulder. I intercepted the 
report. Made Walker give your profile the credit it deserved for the 
solve. We've already spoken on the phone, twice. I think Walker has 
changed his opinion about how much help you were on this case." 

"I wish to hell you would have just stayed out of it, Sir! I don't 
need you babysitting my lame assed career. Give SAC Walker the credit 
if he wants it. I don't deserve it anyway." 

"Mulder . . . " 

Scully jumped in before the conversation could turn into an argument. 
An argument that Mulder had no chance of winning. "Let's talk about 
this after dinner. Did you eat at all after I left, Mulder?" 

"What I eat or don't eat is none of your business, Scully. I have my 
dinner right here," he waved the half empty beer bottle at them, "I'm 
going upstairs . . . that is if I have your permission, oh great and 
powerful Master." 

"Mulder please," Scully laid a hand on his arm as he stomped by her 
toward the door. "You need to..." 

He shook her hand off once more. "You have no idea what I need, 
Scully." 

He got another two steps before a different hand landed on his 
shoulder. "Well, I know exactly what you need, Son." 

Mulder felt himself turned and shoved up against the kitchen wall the 
beer bottle being snatched from his hand. Skinner's body pressed 
against the full length of his own. He was trapped, couldn't move, 
could hardly breath. A big meaty hand came up and clamped around his 
chin, turning his head up and back against the wall. His frightened 
eyes met those of his furious Master. "You don't need to worry, Fox, 
I'll give you just what you need . . . and then some." 

A look that combined an unusual mixture of relief, resignation and 
fear flashed across Mulder's face. It was not lost on Skinner. 

"Yes, Sir." 

"Go into the den and wait for me. I want to speak with Scully and then 
I'll be right there." 

Mulder nodded once more, swallowed hard, and fled from the room. 

Once Mulder had left the room, Skinner turned to his other agent who 
stood staring forlornly at the door that Mulder had just exited. "I 
don't understand. What just happened here, Sir?" 

Skinner reached out and pulled her into his arms, smoothing down her 
hair with a big gentle hand. "What you just saw, Dana, was Fox Mulder 
trying to get the punishment he thinks he's earned for not catching a 
killer quickly enough to suit his own warped self expectations. If we 
don't give it to him, then he'll find some other way to punish 
himself. I'll take care of it. You finish up your dinner and we'll be 
back here in a half hour or so. Sound okay to you?" 

"Oh but Sir . . . " 

"It'll be okay, Dana. I won't hurt him. I just need to talk to him for 
a while. When I'm finished , we'll sit him down and stuff enough of 
your lasagna in him to feed a small army. I promise." 

Scully smiled up at him and stepped back from his arms, "Thank you, 
Walter." 

Mulder sat on the sofa waiting for his Master. It was early autumn and 
the room was a little chilly as evening approached but that wasn't the 
reason he was trembling from head to toe. Truth be told, he was more 
than a little frightened. He had pushed Skinner pretty hard, harder 
than he had planned. He had originally thought that his Master would 
know what had to be done when he heard about Mulder's failure to 
rescue the last victim in time. That hadn't been the case, and perhaps 
he had gone a little far in his baiting of the big AD. Skinner had 
been furious when he had ordered Mulder from the kitchen. 

He heard footsteps approaching and jumped to his feet. The door opened 
forcefully, and Mulder took his first step back, eyes wide. He took 
several more steps back as his Master slowly approached him. 

"You look tired, Fox. Did you take care of yourself after Scully left? 
I was very specific, as I recall, in my instructions to you when I was 
forced to pull her back home. Did you eat three meals a day and get at 
least six hours of sleep very night?" 

"I . . . uh . . . no, Sir. I . . . " 

Skinner locked eyes with his slave and Mulder stood mesmerized, unable 
to speak or move. "So you disobeyed another of my direct orders. And 
the rest of the case, Fox, did you do well on this case?" 

"No, Sir." Mulder shook his head adamantly. 

Skinner's dark brown eyes seemed to turn black as Mulder watched, 
feeling very much like a deer caught in the sights of the hunter's 
rifle. 

"Take off your clothes, Boy. We are going to have a very short and to 
the point discussion about your job and my expectations." 

Mulder nodded sadly and quickly began to strip. He was completely 
naked in less than a minute. He stood quietly, head down, waiting for 
the well deserved pain to begin. 

"Beautiful." Skinner sighed as he ran a hand over Mulder's chest and 
then down to cup him in one large hand. "No less pretty than usual 
tonight, but no less disobedient either. You're going to need a lot of 
discipline, aren't you, Fox?" 

"Ye...yes, Sir." 

"Look at me when you speak to me, Boy!" Skinner barked close to his 
ear. 

Mulder looked up and caught his breath. He had never seen Skinner look 
so intimidating or irritated. It frightened Mulder but aroused him at 
the same time. 

"Well Boy, answer me. Do you deserve to be punished severely this 
evening?" 

Mulder swallowed hard, opening his mouth to omit a strangled croak. He 
cleared this dry throat and tried again, finally managing to choke out 
a couple of words. "Ye...yes, Sir." 

"That's what I thought. Well, I'm going to make sure you get 
everything you deserve, Fox." Skinner smiled as Mulder's eyes widened 
and he gasped for air. "Stand up straight! Put your hands on your head 
and don't move them. And no talking! Not a word, Fox, unless I ask you 
a direct question. Understood?" 

Mulder nodded his head as he stood up on shaky legs and waited 
anxiously for what would happen next. He just couldn't take his eyes 
off the handsome man standing in front of him. He looked scary, oh my 
yes, he looked terrifying but in such a beautiful, erotic way that 
Mulder found he just could <not> look away. 

Skinner's moved around his body. He knew it made Mulder nervous to 
have his naked body admired in this slow through fashion. He wanted 
Mulder nervous. He wanted him keyed up and alert. He had things to say 
tonight, things he wanted Mulder to remember for the rest of his life. 
Skinner stopped to let his lips trace a hot, wet pattern down his 
slave's throat while his hands explored the naked flesh in front of 
him. Mulder tried desperately to slow down his breathing. He did not 
want to hyperventilate now. Skinner was angry enough without having to 
revive him before continuing. 

He became aware of Skinner's hands on his now erect shaft. Oh Shit, a 
cockring and ball spreader. He couldn't help the groan that escaped 
his lips as the little leather torture device was fitted to his body. 
No sweet release for him. It was going to be a very long night. 

"Position Two, Fox." Mulder responded immediately to his Master's 
gruff voice, dropping to his hands and knees, lowered his shoulders to 
the floor, his backside high above his spread knees. 

Skinner sat down on the sofa and ran a hand over Mulder's smooth 
bottom cheeks. Slow relaxing circles. "Are you ready for your 
punishment, Fox?" 

"Yes, Sir." 

"Say it." 

"I . . . I want to be punished, Sir." 

Skinner noticed the use of the word want instead of ready for. Oh yes, 
his Sweet Fox was in need of a good attitude adjustment today. "What 
is this punishment for, Fox?" 

"For not solving the Brackburn case quickly enough, Sir." 

Skinner smacked his bottom hard. Mulder's body jerked at the sudden 
sharp pain but he remained quiet. 

"No, that is NOT why you are being punished tonight. Now tell me why I 
am going to spank you." 

Mulder was at a complete loss. Of course, it was because of the case. 
He had let that last little girl and her family down. He had been too 
stupid, too slow, too... 

"I . . . I let a little girl die, Sir." 

Skinner brought his big calloused hand down hard on the tender bottom 
presented to him. Smack! "No. You did all you could for that child. 
You caught her murderer. You saved dozens of other children. Should I 
punish you for saving the lives of countless children, Fox?" 

"N...no, not for saving but for . . . " 

Smack! Smack! Smack! "Should I punish you for your vanity, Fox?" 

Mulder was at a loss. Vanity? What did he mean. Mulder was many 
things, but vain was not one of them. 

"Sir?" The confusion was obvious in his voice. 

"Vanity, Brat. Do you consider yourself to be some God-like creature. 
Superior to other mere mortal men?" 

"Of course not, Sir!" 

"Then you're just a man." Smack! "A little more intelligent perhaps," 
Smack!, "A little more intuitive most times, " Smack! "but still, just 
a man. Am I right, Agent Mulder?" 

"I . . . I . . . but . . . !" 

"So this time you saved all the children that would have come after 
Rachel Needham. And perhaps next time you'll get extremely lucky and 
save the one that the monster has already taken. If you're very, very 
lucky. Am I right?" Smack! Smack! Smack! 

"Ouch-h-h! Yes! Yes, you're right! If . . . if I'm lucky I'll save one 
more." 

"Very good, Fox. There may be hope for you after all." 

"Now, I'm going to punish you but not for the reason you wanted, Fox. 
I'm going to punish you for blaming yourself for circumstances over 
which you had no control. I'm going to punish you for allowing SAC 
Walker to take all the credit for your work. And I'm going to punish 
you for trying to bait your Master into hurting you. And, most 
importantly, for disobeying my order to take care of yourself." 

Smack! Smack! Smack! 

"Ouch! Ah-h-h-h!" 

"This is meant to sting, Slave Boy. Maybe next time, you'll be a 
little less eager to feel my wrath on your bare backside because when 
I'm finished with you, you will be the proud owner of a very red and 
sore bottom. But then, that is exactly what you wanted, wasn't it?" 

"Yes . . . I mean . . . no, Sir. Please Sir. I'm sorry . . . " 

"Not as sorry as you're going to be. Such arrogance is unacceptable in 
a slave, Fox. This is a very valuable lesson. Pay close attention." 

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! 

So Mulder spent the next twenty-two minutes squirming, yelping, 
sobbing and pleading for mercy while Skinner contented himself with 
smacking the daylights out of his slave's upturned bottom. When he 
finally stopped, Mulder was indeed in possession of a fiery red and 
blistered butt. 

Skinner reached down and hauled a red faced Mulder to his feet. 

"Are you clear on my feelings about your performance on this case, 
Agent Mulder?" 

"Yes, Sir. Quite clear, Sir." 

"Good. You are not to forget the lesson that we've discussed tonight. 
It was an important one, Fox. I don't want to have to go over this 
particular topic again." 

Mulder nodded his head sincerely. "No, Sir . . . I mean, yes, Sir. I 
mean . . . " 

His Master chuckled and tousled Mulder's dark hair, "Good decision. 
Now lets go get some good food into you, Brat." 

* * * 

Mulder knelt beside Skinner's chair at the table, still naked, still 
hard and throbbing inside his leather cock harness. He had been 
promised sweet relief after dinner and at the moment that was all he 
could think about. Skinner and Scully in bed - with him - immediately, 
if not sooner. 

He hadn't eaten any real food for quite some time, and as was common, 
he no longer had any appetite. Not that he was going to tell Skinner 
that he wasn't hungry. He may be a little masochistic at times, but he 
wasn't stupid. And the lasagne that Scully had made did smell 
wonderful. 

Skinner held out a fork to Mulder's mouth. It was heavily laden with 
tender noodles, warm stringy cheese, rich tomato sauce and.... 

"What's that?" 

"Lasagne." 

"No it isn't. That's broccoli." 

Scully sighed, "It's vegetable lasagne, Mulder. It's good for you. Eat 
it." 

"You found a way to make lasagne with broccoli?" He stared at Scully 
in undisguised disgust. "That's a perversion of nature, Scully. Well 
worthy of an X-File investigation." 

Skinner was waving the fork full of food in front of Mulder's evasive 
mouth with a look of exasperation on his scowling face. "Mulder, eat 
the lasagne!" 

"I will not eat broccoli disguised as lasagne." 

Skinner sighed and put the fork back down on the plate. "Fine. How 
about a little garlic bread. Will you eat that? Then we'll talk about 
the lasagne." 

"Okay." Mulder opened his mouth to accept the bread but then snapped 
it closed just as the bite started to enter his mouth. 

"Now what?" 

"Seeds." 

Skinner held the bread up in front of his face. "What seeds?" 

"They're in there. I saw them. She put strange seeds in the garlic 
bread." 

Scully laid down her own fork, as she prepared to plead with her 
stubborn partner, "Mulder, they're flax seeds. They're very high in 
essential nutrients and you can't even taste them in the bread. 
Please, just eat it." 

"I can too taste them. I don't want it." He shook his head adamantly, 
lips pressed tightly together. 

Scully reached up to rub her temples. This was worse than feeding a 
finicky three-year-old. Skinner picked up another forkful of lasagne, 
sans broccoli. 

"Okay, lets try this bite. Open up, Fox." 

Mulder's lips snapped shut with a vengeance. 

"Now what's wrong?" Skinner growled. "I picked off the damned 
broccoli." 

"That's zucchini. I'd know it anywhere. I can't be tricked that 
easily, Sir." 

"Well, let's try this trick, shall we." Skinner pulled Mulder up and 
over his knees in one swift movement. 

Scully gasped as loudly as Mulder. "Sir, he's already sore. He won't 
be able to sit down tomorrow as it is." 

"No problem." Skinner aimed for the tops of Mulder's unmarked thighs. 
"He should have thought about that," Smack! Smack! Smack! "before he 
tried to drive me," Smack! Smack! Smack! "completely insane over 
broccoli and seeds." Smack! Smack! Smack! 

"Ouch! Ple-e-e-ease!" 

"Are you going to eat the damned lasagne now, Fox?" 

"No! I don . . . Oh-h-h-h!" 

"Fine! I'm sure," Smack! "I can keep this up," Smack! " a lot longer 
than you can." Smack! Smack! Smack! 

"Oh-h-h! Not my legs! Ouch! That really hurts!" 

"Good!" Smack! Smack! "The more it hurts," Smack! Smack! Smack! "The 
quicker," Smack! "you'll wise up and eat your dinner!" Smack! 

"All right! I give. I'll . . . Ouch! . . . I'll eat the broccoli and 
the . . . seeds, too. Oh-h--h! . . . " 

"Finally!" He gave Mulder two hard swats on his already red backside 
and let him scramble to his feet. "Get back down there and let me feed 
you. I wouldn't have to do this if I could trust you to eat on your 
own like any normal adult. And stop rubbing your ass. I didn't give 
you permission to rub. I swear, Mulder, the day the Consortium gave 
you to me, is the day I should have just . . . " 

Skinner looked up to see Mulder's bottom lip out and quivering, his 
eyes filled with hurt. Shit! 

"Come on, Brat. Don't look at me like that. You know I don't mean it. 
I'm just tired. Could you please just eat so we can all go to bed. I'm 
too old to be put through my paces by you two, and then have to force 
food down your throat, too." 

Mulder opened his mouth and obediently swallowed the faux lasagne. 

Skinner sighed with relief and looked heavenward, "Thank you." 

* * * 

Their House
Saturday Morning

Mulder woke up feeling much better. He didn't really remember getting 
all that much punishment last night but for some reason he felt better 
about the case he had just completed. He felt redeemed. He still hated 
cases with kids involved, and his heart bled for the parents of the 
children who had been lost. But Skinner was right, he was only human. 
He had done the best he could. He sincerely wished it could have been 
more and maybe next time he would get lucky and it would be more. But 
it would be just that, luck, not any god-like qualities that he might 
possess. He caught the monsters as fast as he could. It would have to 
be enough for now. 

He quickly changed into jogging clothes and made his way downstairs. 
He kissed Scully and then Skinner, gulped down a fast cup of coffee 
and headed out for his morning run. 

* * *

45 Minutes Later 

Mulder stood miserably outside the kitchen door and listened to 
Skinner and Scully talk about him. They thought he was still out on 
his morning run but he had cut it short today. It was cold and 
drizzling out and he assumed the two people who supposedly loved him 
most in the world would be worried. Boy, had he been wrong about that. 

"So, Walter, since you don't like my idea, how do <you> suggest we get 
rid of him?" 

"I know it won't be easy but it's got to be done. I can't take much 
more of this. I think he will see through your plan in a minute. 
Whatever else Mulder may be, he's still a hell of an investigator. 
Maybe I could just send him away on a case." 

"That will force me to go with him. I want to be here with you. You 
need me." 

Mulder had to hold back the sob that rose in his throat. They wanted 
to get rid of him. They had seemed fine last night. They said he was 
forgiven for his bad attitude when he got home and for the cracks 
about Scully's lasagna or well, facsimile thereof. Mulder put his ear 
back to the door. 

"I say we just tell him the truth. No little games. He wants the 
truth, we'll give him the truth." 

"No, Dana, we can't do that. You know how Mulder is, he'll kick up an 
almighty fuss. Try to make us change our mind about our decision." 

"Well, are you sure we're doing the right thing? Once the ball is 
rolling, we won't be able to change our minds." 

"I'm sure. This has gone on far too long. He won't make an effort to 
change, so we'll do it for him." 

Mulder didn't need to hear anymore. He knew when he wasn't wanted. He 
didn't have to be told to his face, that would only hurt more. Mulder 
managed to change clothes and get back out the front door without 
anyone noticing. 

* * * 

Lilas's Bar
D.C. 

Mulder sat unsteadily on the bar stool, swirling his fifth bourbon 
around in his glass. He had been totally taken in, positive that this 
time he had found someone who really loved him. Two someones, in fact. 
But now they had as much as thrown him out. He couldn't remember the 
last time he had been this miserable. The one consolation in that 
thought was that things couldn't get any worse at this point. 

"Hi ya', Mulder." 

Mulder nearly jumped out of his skin, coming very close to falling off 
his precarious perch on the stool. His new companion reached out and 
steadied him with an all too familiar arm around his waist. He tried 
to bat the man away from him and only accomplished listing toward him 
instead. He looked up blurrily into laughing green eyes. Krycek. So 
things could indeed get worse. 

"That's one thing I've always admired about you, Mulder, the way you 
can hold your liquor." Krycek lowered his head and pressed a wet 
sloppy kiss right on Mulder's full luscious lips. 

"Yuck! Stop that! You not posed to kiss me . . . ever!" Mulder slurred 
as he fought to right himself and get off of the other man's chest. 
"Let go of me, Krycek!" 

"Okay." 

Once the supporting arm was withdrawn Mulder found himself lying in a 
drunken heap on the floor. He looked up to see the bartender scowling 
down at him from above. 

"Get him out of here." She pointed an accusing finger at Krycek. "And 
you go with him." 

Krycek smiled evilly, "You heard her, Mulder, you're going with me." 
He reached down and pulled Mulder up to sway dangerously on unsteady 
legs. 

"I'm not going anyplace with you. I have to get back hom . . ." Mulder 
broke off with a sob, remembering that he no longer had a home to go 
to. He sobbed again, "No I don't. Just that old parment . . . with 
nobody there . . . it'll always be that way, too." He looked at Krycek 
to be sure he understood the gravity of the situation. "I'll always 
live in that shit hole until one day..." Sniff! "One day I'll die and 
then . . . then the neighbors will finally call the police because 
there's this odd smell coming from apartment 42, where that lonely old 
geezer lives. And then Scully will . . . she'll just . . . " 

"Geez, Mulder. You should never, <ever> drink." Krycek held on to the 
smashed agent and helped him stagger from the bar. "I take it, from 
your sorry condition at the moment, that you had a little tiff with 
Macho Man and the She Devil." 

"Nope! Didn't stick round long enough for any tiff. Left. Better that 
way." 

"Ah, so you jumped to conclusions again, took off without a word to 
anyone, and now two of the FBI's finest are no doubt hot on your trail 
and madder than hell. Then, of course, they will find me here, trying 
to save your pretty but inebriated little ass, assume I kidnaped you 
and shoot me on sight. Is that pretty much the way of it, Mulder?" 

"Didn't jump...heard them . . . " Mulder nodded confidently, then 
looked around him. "Need . . . sit down a minute?" He then proceeded 
to just happily plop down in the middle of the sidewalk. 

"Geez, Mulder!" Krycek began pulling on his arm. 

"Do you need some assistance, Agent Mulder?" 

Mulder looked up through dark lashes, forcing his blurry eyes to focus 
on the new figure now towering over him. Shit, Skinner! 

"Jus restin', that's all. M' fine . . . Sir." 

"Yeah right." Skinner reached down and deftly swung the younger man up 
and over his shoulder. Mulder struggled for a few moments and then 
settled, resigning himself to being in this humiliating upside down 
position in broad daylight on a public street. Anyway, he needed all 
his concentration to keep from vomiting on his boss. 

Krycek took a couple of steps backward, "Well, now that you're here, I 
guess I'll just head on out." 

"Not so fast, Alex, I think we have a few things to discuss. You're 
coming with me." 

"But I didn't . . . he was . . . and then I . . . " 

"Not one more word, slave boy. I saw you kiss him again. Now, get a 
move on. I'm parked right over there." 

* * *

Their House
Sunday Morning 

Mulder woke to too bright light and a steady pounding echoing in his 
head. He reached up to gingerly rub his temples. The pounding was 
vibrating through his skull and sending a blast of pain through his 
body with every blow. Dammit, what the hell was Skinner building now? 

He slowly crawled out of bed and made his way to the shower. Standing 
there for a long time, letting cold water run over his head and body. 
He could not believe that Skinner and Scully had let him sleep in this 
morning. He vaguely remembered them holding his head over the commode 
while he lost what little he had eaten before his ill fated drinking 
binge had started. After that it was pretty much lost time. 

He wondered if they still planned to throw him out today. And...it 
they planned to get rid of him, why make the effort to track him down 
in the first place. Did they want the satisfaction of telling him to 
his face that he was no longer wanted. 

He stopped by the kitchen to quickly down two cups of strong coffee 
before making his way out to the back yard to meet his fate. 

It was an amazingly beautiful October day. Indian summer at it's best. 
The reflection of the sun off the pool blinded him for a moment. Once 
his eyes had adjusted, he almost wished they hadn't. It wasn't Skinner 
making all that noise. It was that damned Krycek. Buck naked, 
beautiful and helping to build that frigging chicken coop that Skinner 
had talked about putting in the southwest corner of the property. 

"So you're still alive." 

He glanced over to see his beautiful Scully, in an electric blue swim 
suit that fit like a second skin, lying in a lounge chair by the pool 
soaking up the last rays of the summer sun. She was so bright and 
beautiful that it almost hurt to look at her. 

"Just barely. Uh . . . thanks for your help last night." 

"Want to tell me why you felt the need to kill off that many brain 
cells yesterday?" 

"Well . . . I . . . uh . . . that is I heard . . . " 

"Heard what, Mulder?" She cocked her head at him, concern written on 
her pretty face. "Did you hear something about your sister?" 

"No. No . . . it was nothing like that . . . it was nothing, really." 
He sat down on the end of her chair and looked down to where Skinner 
and Krycek were working. "He . . . uh . . . has a nice body, doesn't 
he?" 

"Oh, yeah!" 

Mulder's head pivoted around to her face. "Scully?" 

"What is it, Mulder? Just spit it out, for heaven's sake. What's 
bothering you?" 

"What's he doing here?" 

"Building a storage shed, I believe." 

"Does he have to be naked to swing a hammer. And besides, Skinner 
wanted me to help him build that . . . that thing. He made me read the 
construction manual and everything." 

"Oh Mulder, the last time Skinner let you use a hammer, we had to make 
a trip to the emergency room. Remember?" 

"Yeah." Mulder rested his elbows on his knees and put in head in his 
hands They had finally figured out that he was useless. That was why 
they were getting rid of him. And now that damned Krycek, with his 
stupid long eyelashes and oversexed strumpet body was here to take his 
place. 

He just couldn't let that happen. Not Krycek. Not here, in his home 
with his Skinner and Scully. He got up, swaying slightly as the world 
spun dizzily around him, and moved down toward the construction sight. 
He would just have to convince Skinner to keep him instead of Krycek. 

Skinner turned from his work as he saw Mulder approaching. "So, 
feeling better, Fox?" 

"Yeah." 

"Ready to talk about it yet?" 

"No." 

"All right. But we will have that discussion some time today. I want 
to know why you would put yourself in danger like you did yesterday." 

"I wasn't in danger!" 

Krycek snorted, earning himself a glare from Mulder. 

"Really? Well, Krycek found you in a very vulnerable condition. That 
in itself could have been unfortunate, if I hadn't come along to stop 
Alex when I did. I would have been more than upset to have found you 
in bed with him, Fox. " 

Krycek snorted again. 

"Shut up, Krycek!" Mulder turned to his Master, "I would <never> have 
gone to bed with him. He killed my father." 

"Geez Mulder, are you going to play that same old broken record. And I 
could have easily gotten you into bed yesterday. Tell me, from the 
time you took a nose dive off that bar stool until you woke up in your 
own bed, just how much do you remember? I could have screwed your 
brains out, Pretty Boy, and you couldn't have lifted a finger to stop 
me." 

"You son of a bitch!" Mulder launched himself at Krycek, knocking the 
man to the ground, his body driving his naked back into the hard rocky 
ground. Mulder raised his arm to deliver the first blow to that smug 
face when he felt his fist caught in a larger, more powerful hand. He 
looked up to see why Skinner was stopping him. Just as he turned his 
face, another wet sloppy kiss landed on his exposed cheek. 

Mulder jumped to his feet, rubbing frantically at his face. "Damn it, 
Krycek, will you cut that out! I do not want your mouth on me. 
Anywhere!" Mulder started for Krycek again but a big muscular arm 
reached out, folding itself around the agent's waist and pulling him 
up against a hot hard body. 

"Calm down, Brat. I'll handle this." 

"But he . . . " 

"Fox, I said no." 

"But I just . . . " 

"One more word and you're going to be sharing his fate, Fox. Now, be 
quiet." He gave his wayward slave a hard shake to make sure he got the 
message and turned to Krycek. "Alex, go up to the pool and assume 
Position One. I'll be there to deal with you shortly. I need to talk 
to Fox first." 

Krycek opened his mouth to protest but stopped when he saw the 
dangerous look on Skinner's face. 

"Do you really want to test me, Alex?" 

"No . . . <Sir>." Krycek turned and stalked off across the grass to 
take his place by the pool. 

When he was sure that his orders had been followed, much to Scully's 
delight, he turned Mulder around and held him by the upper arms. 

"Okay, start talking." 

"What?" 

"Don't give me that innocent look. You know what. And forget the pouty 
lip too, that works better on Scully than it does on me. What the hell 
is your problem today . . . and yesterday for that matter. You still 
have a good strapping coming for that little trick, you know. You 
would have gotten it last night, but I want you to feel every burning 
stripe as it decorates that sweet ass of yours." 

Mulder tried to jerk free of his Master's hands. "Why do you bother, 
Sir? I know you're going to throw me out of here. Why bother with a 
strapping when you're going to replace me with Krycek anyway?" 

"Replace you with . . . what are you talking about? Just how much 
<did> you have to drink yesterday? I think it must has destroyed part 
of your brain. Why would I replace you with Krycek?" 

"He's pretty." 

"Yes. And you're prettier. What's your point?" 

"I heard you." 

"Oka-a-a-y, against my better judgement, I'll bite. Heard me what?" 

"I heard you and Scully talking about how to . . . how to tell me to 
leave." 

"What! When was this?" He gave Mulder another hard shake. "Answer me!" 

"I got back early from my run yesterday and you were in the kitchen 
talking about how to get rid of me." Mulder drew in a ragged breath. 
"You don't need any elaborate plan, Skinner. I know I'm nothing but 
trouble. My parents made that more than clear a long time ago. Just 
say the word . . . and that . . . will be it." 

"You'd give up everything that we have together that easily?" 

"Easily?" It was meant to be a sarcastic snort but it came out as more 
of a sob. Mulder took a deep breath and arranged his features in his 
best neutral mask. Skinner despised that <you're not really hurting 
me> look of his. "It wouldn't be easy but I always knew it would 
happen eventually. It's a fact of life, my life anyway. If I let 
myself get happy, it's just a matter to time until it's jerked out of 
my hands. I'm used to it. I can handle it. I have always been . . . 
been alone and I . . . I can be alone again. And . . . and I wouldn't 
let it interfere with the bureau. I would still want to continue to 
work with you and Scully. If that would be all right with you, that 
is." 

"Mulder." Skinner pulled the younger man into his arms and squeezed so 
tightly that Mulder could hardly breathe. When he finally pulled back, 
still holding Mulder by his arms, the agent was sure that he saw tears 
in his Master's eyes. His expression immediately turned to one of 
puzzlement. 

"Sir?" 

"Come on Mulder, Krycek's waiting, then you and I are going to have a 
very long and through discussion." He swiped at his eyes, wrapped an 
arm around Mulder's waist and headed toward the pool. 

Scully had positioned Krycek right in front of her chair and had most 
considerately gotten a strap and placed it in his mouth. She now sat, 
laid back with her arms behind her head, enjoying the view. 

As Skinner and Mulder walked up, she spread her legs and patted the 
cushion in front of her crooking her finger for Mulder to sit down 
with her. As soon as he was seated, she reached up and pulled him back 
so he was resting against her sun warmed chest, wrapping her legs 
around his body and planting a kiss on the side of his face. 

Skinner looked at them. Scully was smiling smugly, anticipating a good 
show. Mulder on the other hand was looking on with wide eyed 
fascination. A look he usually reserved for alien visitation or one of 
Scully's more grisly autopsies. He was probably worried that he was 
next. Skinner couldn't resist the temptation. 

"Don't worry, Fox, I have something entirely different in mind for 
you." The hazel eyes widened even more as Mulder swallowed hard. 
Skinner chuckled and turned back to his immediate prey. 

"Well, well Alex, looks like you and I are going to have a good old 
fashioned heart to heart talk. On second thought, that would be more 
of an old fashioned strap to bare butt talk wouldn't it?" 

He reached down and removed the strap from Krycek's teeth. Alex make a 
face and stuck out his tongue, trying to rid his mouth of the taste of 
hot, well oiled leather. 

"Nothing to say, Alex? By the time I get done with you, you'll answer 
any question I ask. Now, get up and stand on the edge of the pool. 
Toes over the edge, Alex. That's good, spread you legs a little wider, 
bend over and grab your ankles. Perfect." Alex teetered precariously 
until he finally got his balance on his heels and settled into 
position. 

"What are you being punished for, Alex?" Skinner lifted the strap over 
his shoulder and brought it down hard on the waiting backside. Smack! 
Alex grunted and fought to keep himself perched on the edge of the 
pool. 

"I'm waiting for an answer, Alex." Smack! Smack! The last terrific 
lash raised Krycek up off his feet and sent him head first into the 
pool. He came up a moment later, gasping for breath. He could hear 
Mulder and Scully laughing in the background. 

"Get back in position, Alex, we still have a lot of talking to do. You 
get one extra stroke for every fifteen seconds it takes you to get 
back where you belong." 

Alex swam over to the side and climbed out of the pool, positioned 
himself once more on the edge. 

"I suggest you answer the question." Smack! Smack! Smack! "Why are you 
being punished?" Alex yelped loudly with each lash. It hadn't seemed 
possible for the strap to hurt worse, until it was striking wet skin. 
Now the flexible leather seemed to be searing right into his very 
soul. 

Smack! Smack! Each blow seemed destined to send Krycek back into the 
pool. He was using all of his natural grace just to keep himself in 
position. 

"Ouch! Oh! I . . . I kissed Mulder!" He heard Scully's angry 
exclamation behind him right before the strap landed again. 

Smack! Smack! Smack! "Ouch-h-h-h!" The last stroke barely contacted as 
Krycek fell face first into the water. The cool water felt good 
against his hot backside. Unfortunately he had managed to swallow a 
giant mouthful on his way down. He came up spitting and sputtering. He 
scrambled out of the water and resumed his punishment position. 

Krycek painfully repeated his list of sins to the accompaniment of the 
sharp retort of the strap and the splash as he found his way back into 
the pool, keeping his bottom nice and wet to receive his lashes. By 
the time he had received twenty-five solid stripes on his dripping 
blistered flesh, Alex Krycek, killer, double agent, and all around 
tough guy, was in tears and begging for mercy. 

Skinner delivered five more hard smacks to the red bottom in front of 
him. "All right, Alex, I want you to go out to the end of the diving 
board and put your hands on your head. You stay there until I tell you 
to get down. If you do too much squirming and fall in the water, you 
can expect another dose of the strap when I get back." He watched as 
Krycek climbed up the board and took his place balanced perilously on 
the end. 

"Watch him, Dana. Fox and I are going to take a little drive together. 
Leave Alex up there for an hour or so. I'm sure you know what to do if 
he should fall in the water. Put him back to work on the out building 
when you're uh . . . finished with him." 

Scully kissed Mulder once more and then pushed him gently up to meet 
his fate. Mulder saw her look mischievously up at Krycek. He knew that 
look and wondered what insidious plan she had to help Krycek into the 
water. Even Skinner felt himself shiver at the devious look on 
Scully's face. 

After Skinner and Mulder had left. Scully leisurely rose from her 
lounge chair and went into the house to get her favorite thin leather 
crop and oh, maybe one of her little inventions. That battery powered 
feather duster might be just the thing. Oh yes, the beautiful rat-boy 
was going to spend some very painful time bottoms up over one of the 
pool side tables. 

Dana Scully smiled to herself. Her life was just so perfect. 

* * *

Mulder tried to think of something, anything, to say as they drove 
back into DC. "Uh . . . Sir? Do you want to have that talk now?" 

"Any time you're ready, Fox." 

"Well . . . I think now would be good. Where are we going by the way?" 

"Into the city. Now tell me what the hell you were thinking 
yesterday." 

Mulder, inspired by a good dose of apprehension and nervousness, came 
clean. He told Skinner everything. What he had heard through that 
door, how he had interpreted that information, what he felt upon 
finding Krycek naked in <his> back yard. He even threw in a little 
tidbit from his last case that he hadn't felt the need to tell 
Skinner. Then when he received a glare, wished he had kept that little 
scrap of information to himself. When he had finished his confession, 
he took a deep breath and waited for the inevitable explosion. 

He was more worried when Skinner spoke slowly and calmly, "So you 
heard Scully and I talking and naturally assumed, after we have 
repeatedly assured you that we love you, that we were tired of you and 
were going to throw you out of the house. A house, I might remind you, 
of which you are part owner. Is that an accurate synopsis of the 
situation, Fox?" 

"Uh . . . well, when you put it like that . . . " 

Skinner pulled off at the next exit and turned a drive through car 
wash. Mulder glanced over at the AD with a bewildered look on his 
face. 

"I thought you washed the car yesterday." 

"I did." Skinner pulled the car into position and fed the proper 
amount of one dollar bills, for the extended service wash, into the 
greedy little slot. The light turned green and he pulled up until the 
car stopped. He put the car in park, unbuckled his seat belt and 
reached for Mulder. 

Mulder tried to scramble back against his window as Skinner deftly 
released his seat belt. With one smooth grab and pull, Mulder found 
himself lying over his Master's hard thighs as water began to rain 
down on the slowly moving car. He felt big rough fingers snag the back 
of his running shorts and pull. Down came shorts and boxers, leaving 
Mulder lying unprotected, bare bottom up, in the front seat of 
Skinner's car. 

Skinner wasted no time, his hand landing hard on the exposed butt. 
Mulder yelped and wiggled frantically trying to get free. It was 
useless as usual. Skinner was a strong, muscular man and always seemed 
capable of handling Mulder just about any way he chose, even when the 
attack was not as unexpected as this one had been. 

"Now," Smack! Smack! Smack! 

"let's talk about eavesdropping," Smack! Smack! Smack! 

"and, jumping to conclusions," Smack! Smack! Smack! 

"and running off without telling me where you were going," Smack! 
Smack! "We've talked about that before, Fox." Smack! Smack! Smack! 
Smack! 

"And, let's see," Smack! Smack! "There's getting drunk," Smack! Smack! 
Smack! "with no one to watch your back and protect you," Smack! Smack! 
Smack! "Not a smart move," Smack! Smack! Smack! 

"Oh, and let's not forget kissing Krycek," Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! 
Smack! 

Mulder pounded his fist on the leather seat. "Ouch-h-h! Stop! 
Ah-h-h-h! I . . . I didn't kiss Krycek! Oh-h-h, please stop!" 

"You let him pick you up in a bar." Smack! Smack! Smack! 

"No! Ouch! No, I didn't! Uh-h-h! He was just there! Ple-e-ease!" 

"That's the point, Fox. Anyone could have been there!" Smack! Smack! 
"You left yourself open to attack." Smack! Smack! Smack! "You know how 
angry that makes me." Smack! Smack! 

"Yes! Yes, I know. Oh-h-h!" 

"And," Smack! Smack! Smack! "Dana and I love you," Smack! Smack! 
Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! "Do you understand that?" Smack! 

"Yes! Yes, I understand! Ouch! Oh! You love me!" 

"No more listening at doors?" Smack! Smack! Smack! 

"NO! Never! Ah-h-h-h!" 

"And when you hear something," Smack! Smack! "that you don't 
understand." Smack! Smack! Smack! "you ask me about it. Right?" 

"Yes! Ouch! I'll ask! I'll ask! Oh-h-h-h!" 

Mulder could not believe how long this car wash was taking. There 
wasn't going to be any paint left on the vehicle if it didn't end 
soon. And there wasn't going to be any skin left on his backside 
either. 

Skinner delivered six more quick, hard slaps to the backs of Mulder's 
thighs. Just as the car came to a halt at the end of the cycle, he 
reached down pulled Mulder's pants back up over his newly scorched 
bottom, pushed him up into the seat and fastened the seatbelt around 
the distraught young man. 

Mulder quickly used the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe at this eyes and 
squirmed around in the seat, trying desperately to find a comfortable 
position for his very sore bottom. He glanced behind them as another 
car took its place in the carwash. He wondered if they had been able 
to see what had just happened in this car. He felt his face flush 
brighter. 

"I'm glad we could have this little talk, Fox." Skinner turned on his 
wipers to remove the excess water from the windows and pulled back out 
onto the highway, still heading into DC. 

Mulder pouted with his face practically pressed against his window 
until he couldn't stand it anymore. He squirmed in his seat for the 
hundredth time and glanced at his Master. "Where are we going now?" 

"Excuse me?" 

Mulder sighed, "Where are we going now, Sir?" 

"I have some things to pick up." 

"I'll wait in the car." 

"No, I want you to go in with me." 

"But . . . but . . . " 

"Is there a problem, Fox?" 

"Those last . . . uh . . . when you hit my legs . . . I'm pretty sure 
. . . these are jogging shorts . . . what I mean is . . . I think the 
uh . . . marks will show." 

"Yes, they will." 

"But then everyone will know that you hit me!" 

"The word is <spanked> you and yes they will." 

Skinner watched as Mulder silently fumed. He could almost hear the 
wheels turning as the young man tried to come up with an excuse to 
stay in the car. One that Skinner would accept. 

"Forget it, Fox. Trust me, your legs look good in that shade of red." 

Mulder blushed the same shade as said legs, causing Skinner to laugh 
at him and Mulder to pout even harder. They continued their trip in 
silence. 

When they finally pulled into a parking space, Mulder eyed the store 
in front of them. "Oh no! No way am I going in there!" 

"Why not, Fox. This is the classiest S&M shop in town." 

"I'm not going in, and that's final!" 

"They can see the whole parking lot from that front display window you 
know?" 

Mulder eyed the shop but didn't see anyone in the window, "So?" 

"So, they will certainly enjoy the sight of your cute little bare butt 
spread across the hood of this car." 

Mulder gasped, "You wouldn't!" 

"Try me. Now are you going in of your own free will or do you need a 
little persuasion on my part?" 

Mulder grabbed the door handle and exited the car, slamming the door 
loudly behind him. He ignored the glare he could feel Skinner leveling 
his way and self consciously followed the AD into the store. He tried 
to sidle along the back wall, keeping his punished thighs well out of 
sight of the people milling leisurely around the store. Unfortunately, 
that was not to be. 

The little rotund man that had been standing behind the counter came 
around and pumped Skinner's hand. "Mr. S, so nice to see you again." 
He turned beaming eyes on Mulder. "And you must be his boy. He said 
you were beautiful but I thought he was exaggerating. You know men, so 
often just brag, brag, brag. But, this man, he was speaking the truth. 
You are absolutely gorgeous!" 

Mulder blushed to his roots as everyone in the store turned to stare 
at him. 

The little man slapped Skinner on the back, "Gorgeous and he blushes 
so prettily, too. You are a very lucky man, Mr. S." 

Skinner nodded his head in agreement as he watched Mulder bury his 
flaming face in his hands. Several of the stores' clientele were now 
staring lustfully at Mulder. Skinner glared at them until they 
returned to their perusing of the merchandise. 

"So what can I do for you today, Mr. S?" 

Skinner glanced over at his slave. Without the stares of the other 
customers, Mulder had lifted his head and was looking curiously around 
the store. 

"I'm not sure, Ed. What would you recommend for a boy who eavesdrops 
on private conversations, jumps to conclusions, leaves the house 
without permission and gets himself into trouble at every turn?" 

He glanced back over at Mulder. Sure enough he was now looking at his 
boss in red-faced, wide-eyed horror. They had also gained the 
attention of the other customers once more. Oh well, a little 
embarrassment might be good for Mulder's wayward soul. 

"Ah, so it is to be used on this beautiful one?" 

"Yes." 

Mulder was blushing so hard now, he had almost turned purple. Skinner 
began to wonder if he should stop the conversation and get him a glass 
of cool water. 

"Would the punishment be applied to his nipples, bottom or genitals?" 

"His bare bottom." 

Mulder made a strange choking sound. Skinner looked at him in concern. 
"Ed, do you think I could get a glass of water for my boy?" 

"Oh course." The little man turned to his assistant, a tall gangly man 
who had been watching closely from behind the counter. "Maurice, some 
water for this beautiful one. Quickly please." 

Mulder held the glass in shaking hands as he drank the soothing water. 
"Better?" Skinner smoothed the hair out of his eyes. 

Mulder nodded as Ed beamed at him again. 

"Beautiful. Just beautiful. May I, Mr. S?" 

At Skinner's nod, the little man pulled a high stool out from the 
corner. He placed it in front of a wide-eyed Mulder. "Bend over the 
stool, Beautiful One. I need to see your bottom. It's very important 
that we choose an instrument that is just right for you. Something 
that will cause a good sting without damage. I know Mr. S doesn't wish 
to bruise that delightful little butt of yours." 

Mulder was so dazed by this time that he didn't even make a token 
protest as Skinner bent him face down over the stool. His jogging 
shorts pulled tight across his raised backside, baring an ample amount 
of spank reddened thigh and lower buttock. 

"Oh, someone has already gotten their pretty little bottom warmed 
today, I see." 

"Yes, I had to pull off into a car wash on the way over here." Mulder 
groaned miserably and was sure he heard a similar sound come from a 
couple of overly interested on-lookers. There was little doubt that he 
was now the center of attention. 

Mulder was left in his bottom up position while Skinner and the ever 
helpful Ed made their way around the store discussing the pros and 
cons of various straps, paddles and switches as it related to the 
size, shape and color of his currently well exhibited butt. Several 
times, the two men stood close behind him, and he felt something touch 
his bottom as if measuring it for a good fit. 

He kept his eyes tightly closed throughout the ordeal but at one point 
he heard the whistle of a switch cutting the air close behind him. His 
eyes popped open as the thin leather switch was laid benignly across 
his naked thighs. Another time a paddle came to rest on the bare under 
curve of his bottom. It patted him lightly a few times before moving 
away. Mulder bit back angry curses on both occasions. He was all too 
sure he knew exactly what Skinner would do if his slave misbehaved 
here in this particular shop. 

He felt a strange hand caress his butt. He looked around quickly to 
see a tall, well dressed man smiling down at him. "Are you a free 
sample, Sonny Boy?" 

"Get your hands off him!" 

"Ah, so you do have an owner. How unfortunate." 

Ed hurried to intervene. "Mr. R, so nice to see you again. Let me 
finish up with this beautiful one, and his Master and I will be right 
with you." 

"Of course. Sir, if you ever wish to rid yourself of this naughty boy 
just let Ed know. He will know how to contact me." 

"I'll keep that in mind." 

After on long terrible moment Mulder felt his new admirer retreat. 
Mulder prayed for the floor to open and swallow him up before he had 
to rise and face his audience. 

"Do you want to try these out before you buy, Mr. S.?" 

Mulder's whole body tensed. Oh please, don't let Skinner smack his 
backside in the middle of this store. 

There were several long moments of silence as Skinner seemed to 
consider the offer, and Mulder held his breath. "No. I'm sure these 
will be fine." 

Mulder tensed again as he felt a hand settle on his upturned butt, 
rubbing in slow circles. "You can get up now, Boy." 

Mulder rose, keeping head bowed and his eyes fastened on his own feet. 

"What do you think of this paddle?" Skinner held up a thin round 
leather paddle. Flexible yet solid. Mulder had no doubt it would 
impart a tremendous sting. 

"I asked you a question, Boy. Do you need a demonstration before you 
can make a comment about the paddle?" 

"No! No, I . . . I think it will hurt." 

Ed laughed loudly, "Beautiful and smart. Of course it will hurt, 
Beautiful One. It's meant to sting and badly." 

"What about this?" Skinner held up a short flexible cane. Mulder 
swallowed hard and stared at it in open mouth astonishment. 

"You . . . You're going to use that on me?" 

"I'm buying this for Alex. But yes, I will probably find cause to use 
it on you, too. But you needn't worry, I know what I'm doing. It'll 
make you yelp loud enough to wake the dead, but it won't cut that soft 
smooth skin at all." 

"That's a comfort," Mulder moaned. 

Skinner chuckled as he added a new pair of nipple clamps to his 
purchases, "I think we're all done here, Ed. Wrap them up." He turned 
to his still blushing slave. "Wait in the car if you'd prefer. I'll 
only be a few more minutes." 

Mulder was out the door before Skinner had finished his sentence. 

"I do believe, Mr. S, that your beautiful young man didn't enjoy his 
first visit to my little shop, huh?" 

As Skinner exited the store he was concerned that he could not see 
Mulder sitting in the car. If that boy had taken off again, the new 
purchases he held in his bag would be put to use much earlier than 
expected. And very publicly. As he opened the door, he was relieved to 
see Mulder slumped down in his seat, fresh tears in his eyes. 

"Don't you want to know why I chose those particular items?" 

"No." 

"No matter. I'm sure you'll become acquainted with all of them before 
too long. You can't stay out of trouble, it just isn't your nature. 
Then I'll tell you why they are for your own good." 

"Humph!" 

"Is that a car wash over there?" 

Mulder slunk down lower in his seat and sulked but he answered any 
question posed to him in a very respectful manner for the rest of his 
outing with his Master. 

* * * 

Hoover Building
Assistant Director Skinner's Office
Saturday Afternoon 

Scully sat in her usual seat across from her boss. "Well it's Saturday 
afternoon and we still haven't figured out a way to tell Mulder to get 
lost." 

"You have to find a way to get him out of our hair. You're so 
creative, Dana, I know you can come up with something." 

"Don't patronize me, Walter Skinner. I thought we decided that when 
the time came to get rid of Mulder, you would do it. You know . . . 
Ouch!" Scully grabbed for her eye. 

"What's wrong?" 

"Eyelash I think. May I use your facilities for a moment, Walter." 

"Of course." He watched as Dana made her way across the room and into 
his small executive washroom. He sighed to himself. She was so very 
beautiful, as was her partner. Not for the first time, the AD wondered 
how he had ever gotten so lucky. 

His pleasant thoughts were interrupted as the private entrance to his 
office opened. He braced himself for another confrontation with the 
smoking man but was surprised when the tall brunette slithered into 
the room instead. 

"Agent Fowley. It is customary for appointments to be made with my 
Administrative Assistant. Her name is Kim and you will find her desk 
in my outer office." 

Diana Fowley seated herself in the chair that had just been vacated by 
Scully. 

"This won't take long, AD Skinner. I have decided to offer you my 
services." 

Skinner's eyebrow rose, "And just what <services> might those be. I 
already have a cleaning lady." 

"You really should be nicer to me, <Walter>, I can be of help to you 
with your little problem." 

"And which problem would that be?" 

"Fox." 

"As far as I'm concerned, Agent Mulder isn't a problem. Thank you for 
your offer but I decline. I assume you know your own way out." 

"I know how to handle Fox. I've done it in the past." 

Now Skinner was intrigued, "You were Mulder's Top?" 

"Well no. My assignment was a little different back then. It might 
have all turned out differently if they had allowed me the same leeway 
with him that they've given you. I would have been a perfect Mistress 
for him had I been given the chance. It isn't fair you know." 

"Let me get this straight, you had your chance with Mulder, fucked up 
royally and lost him. Now you want to get him back. Frankly, I don't 
need any help, with him, Agent Fowley, especially from you." 

"I could force your hand." 

"Just try it. Better <men> than you have tried to take Fox away from 
me." 

"You really should try to be reasonable about this, AD Skinner. I had 
him first, and as I see it, I am a much better choice to control him 
than that little redhead of his. That woman really needs to be 
transferred to Alaska or somewhere. She has no idea what to do with a 
man like Fox. I, on the other hand, am . . . " 

Skinner lost track of her conversation as he watched a furious Dana 
Scully leave the washroom and make her way stealthily across the room 
behind Diana Fowley. 

* * *

Their House
Saturday Night 

Agent Fowley came slowly awake to a pounding headache and the feel of 
cool, smooth leather under her bare stomach and chest. Her eyes 
snapped open. She was completely naked, bent over and tied to a high 
leather bench of some sort. Her feet barely touched the floor and her 
shoulders were screaming in agony from the stretched positon in which 
her hands were tied to the floor. 

Her breath caught as she looked around. She was in a room filled with 
what appeared to be torture devices. The walls were painted a dark 
purple with candles glowed from every corner. The candlelight danced 
across the straps and paddles that adorned one wall. She pulled at her 
restraints, trying desperately to remember how she had gotten here. 
Had she done something to anger the Consortium? 

Then she remembered. She had been talking to Assistant Director 
Skinner about her right to become Fox's Mistress. She had been so 
involved in her visions of the beautiful Fox naked and prone at her 
feet that she . . . she what? She didn't remember what happened. A 
pain in her head and then it had all gone dark. 

She heard a door open behind her. She turned her head as much as her 
bonds would allow. A shadowy figure stood in the shadow, not moving, 
Diana could feel cold calculating eyes on her. 

"Who are you? What do you want with me? Where am I?" 

"So many questions, Diana. I wasn't really sure you knew how to ask 
pertinent questions after the wreck you made of the X-Files. Not one 
solved case while we were gone. Imagine that, and you such an old pro 
at unexplained phenomenon and all. A true believer like Mulder, isn't 
that what you said?" 

"Agent Scully? What is the meaning of this? You would be wise to 
release me at once. I can ruin your so called career. And Fox will be 
furious when he hears about this." 

"Will he? You know he never mentions you. Not before you returned and 
not after. Even during pillow talk when he is so relaxed and sated 
that he will tell me anything I want to know. In fact, the only thing 
I have ever heard him say about you was that you were a real Witch. Oh 
wait, maybe it was something that started with the letter B? Oh well, 
close enough for government work I suppose." 

"I'll have your job for this!" 

"You had my job. Twice, I believe it was. You couldn't do it right 
either time. And you certainly can't replace me with Mulder. I'm the 
most important person in his life. You should have asked him about 
that before you just assumed he would fall for your questionable 
charms again. He really is a very smart boy, you know. Gorgeous body, 
too. Likes to make me scream when I come." 

"You're lying." 

"Am I?" 

Scully moved forward into the room. She picked up a flexible leather 
paddle from a table as she passed by, fingering it idly as she came to 
stand behind the prostrate brunette. She brought the paddle back over 
her shoulder and brought it down with considerable force on the 
exposed bottom before her. 

"Ah-h-h-h!" 

"Hurts, doesn't it? You know, this is my favorite paddle. Of course I 
would never use it on my Fox. It stings too much for him. I've been 
dying to give it a good workout for quite some time. How fortunate 
that you volunteered." 

The paddle came down again and again, covering a wide area of Diana's 
pale bottom. She screamed each time the paddle made stinging impact. 

"Pl . . . please, stop!" 

"Stop? Why would I want to do that? I've only just begun." 

The deadly paddle rose and fell with a steady cadence as the 
struggling brunette howled and squirmed, trying desperately to move 
her bare bottom out of the way of the horrible paddle. She felt as 
though a hundred bees were attacking her defenseless flesh. 

Scully carefully spanked the entire bottom and upper thighs, the same 
areas receiving the stinging smacks of the paddle over and over again 
until welts and blisters had formed on the inflamed flesh. Scully 
paused to survey her work. Diana Fowley was certainly not as brave as 
Mulder. He didn't cry until it was absolutely impossible not to do so. 
Diana cried from the first swat. It was so hard to respect a woman 
like this. 

Scully gave her a few minutes to regain her composure before resuming 
their discussion. 

"Beginning to see the error of your ways, Agent Fowley?" 

"You're finished . . . at the bureau . . . Dana." 

"You think so?" Scully laid aside her paddle and picked up a heavy 
strap. "I never get to use this either. Much too severe for Mulder. 
But . . . well I think it might be just right for you." 

Scully brought the strap down on the already throbbing bottom, leaving 
a bright livid weal across the reddened skin. 

"Auh-h-h-h-h! No! No, please. No more. I . . . I can't take any more. 
Please." 

"In that case, you need to listen and listen good. You will stay away 
from Mulder. You <will not> approach him. You will not try to get 
control of him. You will not even think about Fox Mulder again. Is 
that understood?" 

"You can't make me . . . Ah-h-h-h-h! Oh please, yes I understand. I 
do! I do!" 

"Good. Now secondly, you will tell no one about what happened here 
tonight. You will not complain to your smoking bastard of a boss or 
any of your other low-life cronies. You will accept what has happened 
here as being between you and I. If I find out you told anyone or 
tried to cause any trouble for myself, Mulder or Assistant Director 
Skinner, I will hunt you down, I will bring you back to this place, 
and I will use this strap to remove every strip of skin from that ugly 
little butt of yours. And don't think that Consortium of yours can 
protect you. I've learned a lot from Mulder in six years. You won't be 
safe from me, no matter where you try to hide. Understood?" 

Silence. 

"I asked you if you understood?" The strap made a third visit to it's 
unfortunate target, leaving another raw painful welt across the once 
smooth, white skin. 

"Ouch-h-h-h-0h-h-h-h! Yes! Yes, I understand!" 

Scully put aside her strap and picked up a syringe. She jabbed the 
needle into the already sore backside in front of her, gaining another 
pained yelp, and depressed the plunger to release the contents into 
her captive's system. 

"Time to take little Diana home." 

* * * 

Their House
Midnight Sunday Morning 

Mulder and Skinner walked in the door talking and laughing. 

Dana smiled at them from her place on the couch. "Looks like you boys 
had a good time tonight." 

"Yeah," Mulder hugged her and placed a kiss on her temple. "It was a 
great game. You should have gone with us, Scully. It had to be boring 
just sitting around here by yourself all night." 

"Oh I found something to keep me occupied. I wasn't bored in the 
least." 

"Girl stuff, huh Scully?" Mulder teased. 

Scully swatted his firm butt as he headed toward the kitchen. She 
glanced up at Skinner and winked. "Yeah Mulder, lots and lots of <girl 
stuff>." 

* * * 

Their House
Sunday Afternoon 

Mulder stood on the front steps looking around in shock. They had 
thrown him out. He couldn't believe it. Well, not actually thrown him 
out. Asked him to leave. No, thrown him out! Definitely thrown him 
out. 

He had been sitting on the couch, flipping channels at the speed of 
light, when suddenly Skinner and Scully had descended on him out of no 
where. Told him they had reached the end of their rope, he was driving 
them crazy, handed him his car keys and, thrown his ass out the door. 
He didn't even have a suit to wear tomorrow. 

Mulder turned up his collar as the cold autumn rain began to run down 
the back of his neck. They had thrown him out in the rain! Shit! 

Mulder stomped out to his car, and headed over to the Lone Gunmen. 
They were his real friends, they wouldn't throw him out in the rain. 
And if they did, they would have at least let him pack a bag first. 

He rang the obnoxious buzzer outside their little den and waited 
patiently for the door to open. Nothing. He made a face at the camera 
and rang the buzzer again. 

"Hey, let me in. It's raining out here." 

"Go away, Mulder." 

"What?" 

He could hear Frohike sigh through the speaker mounted over his head, 
"Go away. We're busy. Go find someone else to bother." 

"But . . . " 

Buyers smooth gentle voice came over the speaker, "We're really sorry, 
Mulder, but we can't see you today. You'll have to come back some 
other time." 

"I could get a warrant you know!" 

"Just try it, Punk Ass." 

"Frohike, get away from there." Langley came on the speaker. "Sorry 
Mulder. No can do today, Dude. You gotta' come back tomorrow." 

"Fine! Some friends you guys turned out to be!" 

Mulder turned on his heel and headed back to his car. He was almost 
there before he realized he had no place else to go. Well, time for 
another visit with his good friend, Bourbon Straight Up. He got in his 
car, dug the new bottle out from under the seat and drove away in 
search of a quiet place to drink and sulk. 

* * * 

Lincoln Memorial
3 Hours Later 

Mulder sat staring morosely at the bottle of bourbon in his hand. He 
had learned his lesson last time. Drink slower. He pulled his thin 
jacket up further around his neck. The rain had not stopped and he was 
soaked to the bone. 

"You're late." 

Mulder looked over and groaned. "Shit, Krycek. Not you again. We've 
already done this scene. Shove off!" 

"No can do, Foxy Boy. You're wanted at home." 

"No! They threw me out." 

"Yeah and now they want you back. Although, I don't think Mr. Master 
Man and his red-headed sidekick are going to be too happy about your 
condition." 

"I don't have a condition." 

"Mulder, I keep telling you. You <can not> drink, Man. Some people 
can. Some people can't. You, my pretty friend, are a definite Can't." 

"Not your friend. Nobody's friend." 

"Yeah, I know." He took a firm hold on Mulder's arm and started to 
pull him to his feet. "Come on Mulder, you're going to have to hold 
the rest of this little pity party at home." 

"Get your hands off me, Krycek." He eyed the double agent 
suspiciously, "And no more kissin'. I'm always getting in trouble 
cause you keep kissin' me." 

"Are you asking me to not kiss you or reminding me to do it?" 

"Humph! Just go away. I'm staying right here." 

Krycek grabbed Mulder's chin in his fingers and forced the agent's 
face up and around toward his own. "Mulder, if you don't get your butt 
up off that step, walk calmly down to my car, and let me take you home 
. . . I'm gonna' . . . " 

"Yeah, you're gonna' what?" 

"I'm gonna' . . . call Scully and tell her where you are." 

Mulder sucked in a shocked breath, "You wouldn't!" 

"Just try me." 

"I always knew you were low-down, Krycek, but that is . . . " 

"Yeah, I know. I have no scruples. No morals. No loyalty to the male 
gender. Now if you're finished insulting me, you need to make a 
decision. Let me take you home, or have Scully come down here and get 
you. Tick, tick Mulder." 

"Shit!" 

"Yeah, that's what I thought." He pulled Mulder up off the cold, wet 
concrete and dragged him down the steps. 

* * *

Their House
30 Minutes Later 

Mulder staggered up the walk with Krycek still clinging to his arm. 
"Damn it Krycek, will you let go of me?" 

"If I let go of you, you're going to end up laying in the yard and the 
grass is still wet. Wouldn't want to take Skinner's brat home all 
muddy, now would we?" 

"Damn it, Krycek! Why can't you get it through your thick head. They 
don't care if I'm muddy. They don't care if I'm even alive. They said 
I was driving them crazy. They want to be rid of me but . . . but they 
just don't know how to tell me." Mulder turned abruptly and headed in 
the other direction. "I shouldn't even be here!" 

Krycek barely managed to snag the determined agent's arm before he 
went careening off to probably break his fool neck when he fell off 
the sidewalk. He was not taking an injured Mulder in there to Dana 
Scully. No way. 

"Mulder, stop it. You're going in that house. Now shut up and move!" 

"You're not my Master." 

"No, thank God, I'm not. Now get moving before I move you myself." 

"Asshole!" Mulder glared at his tormentor from under wet lashes. 

"Shit-Head!" Krycek bellowed back. 

The door suddenly burst open, making both rain soaked men flinch. 
"What the hell is going on out here? Krycek, can't you even come in 
the house without causing a scene on the front lawn." 

"Why is it always my fault?! I can't get your stubborn brat to come 
inside!" 

"Mulder?" 

"You threw me out, and I'm staying out!" He turned to make a dramatic 
if somewhat unsteady exit. He was pulled up short once again by 
Krycek's hand on his arm. 

"Shit! Has he been drinking again?" Skinner roared from the dry refuge 
of the house. 

"Hell yes! You throw him out, he has a couple of ounces of bourbon and 
gets plastered. You have some very dysfunctional patterns going on 
here, if you ask me." 

"Three." 

Skinner and Krycek both turned to stare at Mulder. 

"What?" 

"Three. I had three ounces of bourbon. Maybe even four." Mulder 
demonstrated the truth of his statement by omitting a loud belch, 
looking sheepish, and covering his mouth with his hand. 

Skinner reached out snagging Mulder's arm and dragged him into the 
house with Krycek following close behind. "It took three whole drinks 
to put you on your ass. How impressive, Fox." 

Mulder nodded at him, causing Krycek to roll his eyes heavenward. 
"Shesh! My three year old nephew drinks that much Vodka for breakfast 
every morning." 

Skinner held up a hand before Mulder could open his mouth with a smart 
ass rebuttal. 

"Enough! Mulder get dried of before you catch pneumonia and Scully has 
my head. I swear you are more trouble than . . . " 

He stopped abruptly as Mulder's face crumpled and tears streaked down 
his face. 

Krycek rolled his eyes again. "Shit! Now you did it! Got him crying. 
This could last the rest of the night now. Nothing worse than a 
sloppy, morose drunk and Mulder does it better than anybody." 

Mulder searched his bourbon soaked brain for a snappy retort, "Oh, 
yeah?" 

Skinner took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. 
Another headache. "Krycek take him upstairs and get him cleaned up. 
And no touching." 

Krycek grabbed the sniffing Mulder and headed upstairs with him in 
tow. 

"Oh and Krycek," Alex turned around to see what the big man wanted 
now. "No touching means no kissing." 

Krycek rolled his eyes again, "Sheesh!" 

* * * 

Mulder made his way downstairs. He was sure Krycek had held him under 
that cold shower a lot longer than was necessary but he did have to 
admit he felt more clear headed than he had for a while. 

He was met with an eerie silence. Krycek had come down a few minutes 
earlier, even if everyone else had left him, Alex couldn't have gotten 
far. 

"Hello?" 

Not a sound in response. Mulder searched from room to room. The house 
was empty. Alien abduction? Giant flesh absorbing Pythons? Black 
holes? A hundred different theories ran through Mulder's head. Each 
one a little more grisly than the last. 

"Scully?" 

He was on his third trip through the kitchen, now fighting his own 
panic, when he noticed that the basement door was open part way. Shit! 
No one ever went down there, mainly because it wasn't finished yet. 
Just a giant open room with support beans visible on walls and 
ceiling. He reached for the gun that always rested on his hip and came 
up empty. Shit! Should he go back upstairs and get it? Skinner and 
Scully might be dead by that time. He needed to find them now. 

He looked around for a weapon appropriate for use on basement dwelling 
mutants. His eyes locked on a heavy ceramic angel. It had been a 
Christmas gift from Scully's brother, Bill, Jr. Mulder thought the 
thing was every bit as atrocious as brother Bill himself. 

Arming himself with the indisputably ugly angel, Mulder slowly made 
his way down the basement stairs. He wished they didn't creak quite so 
much. The element of surprise had been gone by the third step. He 
needed to remember to address that problem with Skinner. That is if 
there still was a Skinner. 

Slowly reaching the bottom step, Mulder steadied his grip the ghastly 
object d' art and carefully reached around the corner to turn on the 
lights. Just as his fingers brushed the switch, he saw movement to his 
right. He raised his impromptu weapon high above his head and aimed 
for the mutant intruder's head. He felt a small thrill of victory as a 
loud yelp accompanied the sound of shattering ceramic. 

The lights came on with a blinding glare. Mulder squinted against the 
painful flash. He quickly looked down at his feet to see Scully's 
homely angel lying in a thousand pieces and Alex Krycek bleeding from 
a recent head wound. 

He looked up to see thirty people staring back at him, all bearing 
identical looks of stunned horror on their faces. 

His eyes found Scully's wide laser blue gaze. She tried to give him a 
weak smile, failed, opened her mouth, only to close it again and lick 
her full lips. She blinked once, licked her lips once more and finally 
managed to speak. 

"Happy Birthday, Mulder?" 

The End