Fresh Start Series
by DiAnn

Fresh Start - Part 8


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: Mulder, Scully and Skinner enjoy Mulder's suspension from
the bureau. 

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. 

Special thanks to Nicole who corrects my commas and
consistently tells me that I have not gone too far with the smut,
she wants more. And she wants it now! 

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

Fresh Start Part 8
By: DiAnn 

Hoover Building
Assistant Director Skinner's Office 

"Agent Mulder, you are hereby suspended for two weeks without pay." 

Assistant Director Skinner looked across his desk at the young man who 
was now watching him with a combination of anger and fear. The fear 
was a wise choice, the anger was not. 

"Fine! Will that be all, sir?" Mulder rose from his chair, prepared to 
leave the room. 

"No!" Skinner barked. "That will not be all. Sit down. On second 
thought, assume Position 1. Now!" 

Mulder recognizing the tone of voice, immediately dropped to his 
knees, pulling on the front of his slacks to make room for his knees 
to part as he leaned his butt back on his heels. He nervously glanced 
toward the unlocked office door. 

"Put your hands behind you head and look me in the eyes!" 

Mulder complied, the picture of submission. Except for those hazel 
eyes. Those gorgeous, expressive, defiant, hazel eyes. 

"Now Fox, how many times should I deliver an order to you before you 
are required to obey?" 

Mulder glared at his Master. "Once, sir." 

"That's right, slave boy, once. And how many times did I tell you not 
to pursue the Dr. Alexander Beaumont case?" 

"Twice." 

"How many?" 

Mulder sighed dramatically. "Three times, sir." 

"And how many times did you ignore my direct order?" 

"He's dirty! That man is tied to the Consortium. If we can nail him, 
we might be able to bring down the whole organization. Why can't you 
understand that?" 

"I do understand that! And what did I tell you we would do with this 
information that you have unearthed? At great risk to your own life, I 
might add, which is another discussion for later." 

Mulder sighed dramatically. "You said we would pursue it outside the 
bureau." 

"That's right, outside the bureau, and that *we* would investigate. 
Did I say anything about you going off on your own like some deranged 
Lone Ranger, sans Tonto, and believe me, your Kemo Sabe Scully is even 
more angry than I am about that little decision." 

Skinner was gratified to see his errant young agent flinch at that bit 
of distressing news. 

"Now about the next two weeks. Your file will reflect that you took a 
much needed vacation. All the paperwork has already been completed and 
approved." 

"But you said without pay." 

"You will never see those paychecks, Fox. I think there is a new suede 
coat that Scully has had her eye on for a while. That seems like a 
good purpose for your salary." 

Mulder's bottom lip came out another millimeter. "I would buy Scully 
whatever she wanted. I don't want her to have her *eye* on anything. 
If she wants something, she should just tell me, so I can get it for 
her." 

"And make her as spoiled as you are? I don't think so." 

"I'm not spoiled!" 

"When it comes to love, no you aren't. But money? That's another 
thing. You could care less about it because you've always had it. 
Well, not for the next two weeks, from this moment you are dependent 
on me for everything, Fox. I will decide if and when you eat, where 
you sleep and what you wear. But you should probably be warned, making 
sure you're dressed is never a big priority for me." 

Mulder was now looking at him as if he had gone completely mad. Maybe 
he had. "With you gone, Agent Scully and I have also requested 
vacation time. The Director was most happy to hear that I was going to 
take a little time off. He thinks you try my patience. He has no 
idea." 

Skinner watched his slave for a few minutes but Mulder refused to even 
look at him. Fine. Walter Skinner was more than prepared to play this 
game any way Mulder wanted to see it out. And Skinner had a few tricks 
up his sleeve that young Mulder could never even guess. 

"You may get up now." Mulder sprang to his feet and headed for the 
door. "Wait a minute, I didn't say you can't leave just yet. Come over 
here and give me a kiss." 

He got another glare, and a nervous glance at the door but Mulder did 
as he was told. The Assistant Director kissed him long and hard, until 
he felt his errant slave melt in his arms. 

When the AD allowed the kiss to end, he abruptly turned a somewhat 
dazed Mulder and smacked him hard on the ass, making the young man 
jump and yelp in surprise. 

"Go home, Fox. I have a couple of things to finish here before I 
leave. I expect to find you in Position 1 in the entryway. Oh, and 
have the strap in your mouth. It's going to be a long, painful two 
weeks, brat." 

* * * 

Their House
2 Hours Later 

Mulder shifted his bare butt a little but couldn't alleviate any of 
the discomfort in his legs. He had been sitting like this for what he 
considered an unnecessarily long time. His calves had long since gone 
to sleep, sending pins and needles up into his hips at regular 
intervals. And the strap tasted especially oily and nasty today. He 
glanced up at the door one more time. When was the man going to get 
here? This was ridiculous! 

He quickly lowered his eyes as he heard a key in the lock. It had to 
be Skinner, Scully was still at Quantico doing an emergency autopsy. 

Skinner stood in the doorway for a moment just admiring the view. Now 
this was worth coming home to. Fox Mulder, naked, on his knees and 
waiting patiently for a firm but loving hand. 

He didn't say a word to his slave, throwing a large white envelope 
down on the floor in front of Mulder. "Don't touch that until I tell 
you." 

He couldn't resist ruffling his now very curious slave's hair as he 
continued on upstairs to change into comfortable clothing. Nothing 
drove Mulder more crazy than a mystery that he couldn't delve right 
into right away. That envelope was, at this very moment, driving him 
up a wall. 

Skinner carefully chose something with a lot of stretch, he needed to 
be able to swing his arm with ease. He was fully determined that his 
pretty little slave would not be able to sit down comfortably tonight. 

He made his way back downstairs, stopping only momentarily to admire 
the kneeling man once more. After perusing the evening paper and 
sipping slowly on a scotch and water, Skinner walked over to where 
Mulder waited still facing the front door. 

Skinner reached down and took the strap from the young man's mouth, 
watching silently as Mulder ran his tongue around his mouth, 
scrunching up his face in disgust. 

"Taste good?" 

"No, sir." Mulder refused to meet his eyes. 

"Get up, slave boy." Mulder tried to lever himself up from the floor 
and was completely embarrassed when Skinner had to, not only help him, 
but keep him on his feet as his stiff cramped legs refused to bear his 
weight. 

Skinner carried him as far as the dining room table, where he bent him 
over to lay on his stomach. Again throwing the white envelope down in 
front of Mulder's inquisitive nose. "Rest there until your legs feel 
better." 

This position was just a little too vulnerable for Mulder's taste. "I. 
. .I'm fine now, sir. Could I get up?" 

The strap came down across his bare bottom with a sharp retort and a 
streak of pure fire. "Ouch-h-h-h!" 

"Do you wish to argue with my direct order again?" 

"No, sir!" 

Just one stroke and Mulder's bottom felt like it was burning up. He 
watched as Skinner moved to the kitchen, no doubt to start dinner. 
Mulder wanted dinner. He had worked through dinner last night, and had 
been so upset about being caught attempting a little minor B&E at Dr. 
Beaumont's residence, that he hadn't been able to eat lunch. He was 
sure his heart was going to stop when he looked up to see AD Skinner 
standing not a dozen steps away watching him use his lock pick. 

Mulder raised his eyes to make sure Skinner was safely in the kitchen. 
He then carefully raised one hand to run it over the outside of the 
large white envelope. It was thick, obviously containing a lot of 
information. There were also smaller envelopes inside. Mulder couldn't 
tell how many. He flipped it over to feel the other side. 

The next thing he knew his nose was pressed against the highly 
polished top of their dining table, and the strap was dancing madly 
across his bare bottom. 

The agent hissed and struggled but the big paw that was planted on the 
back of his neck kept him firmly in place while the evil leather strap 
did painful damage to his well presented butt. 

When the entire lower half of his bottom felt as if it had been 
drenched in oil and set aflame, his master laid the strap down beside 
him and pulled him to his feet. "Come on, you need to earn your meal 
for this evening." 

Mulder looked down at the large pan that had been thrust into his 
hand. "You want me to cook?" Mulder said incredulously. "I don't think 
Scully is going to like this." 

"You'll be doing lots of new things for the next two weeks, slave boy. 
Cooking dinner is only one of the many ways you're going to be earning 
a couple of weeks worth of food and shelter." He smiled at Mulder's 
astounded expression. "Look at it this way, at least you don't have to 
try to work off the clothes on your back. I've decided to supply 
those, and you won't need many. Most generous of me, don't you think?" 

"Yeah, generous." Mulder said sullenly. 

A heavy wooden spoon came out of nowhere, and exploded across his 
backside. 

"Ouch! What was that for?" 

"You've forgotten the rules, slave boy. I am *sir* to you. What I say 
goes, and I don't want a word from you unless I specifically ask for 
it. Now you are going to learn to cook. Should Scully and I both need 
to be gone at the same time, you would revert back to your two basic 
food groups, sunflower seeds and pizza. Not acceptable for a slave 
owned by me." 

"You don't own . . .Ouch!" Mulder reached back to rub the new injury 
inflicted by that damn spoon. 

"No rubbing! You have to ask for permission to rub a sore bottom, 
brat. How many times do I have to tell you that? Give me your hand." 

Mulder reluctantly offered his hand to his crotchety Master. 

"Not you gun hand, for heaven's sake. What is wrong with you? Give me 
your left hand." 

Mulder quickly changed hands, still watching his Master with an 
enormous amount of trepidation. 

"Palm up, Fox. Three smacks. What are these for?" 

Mulder reluctantly flipped over his hand, presenting it to his 
chastiser. "Rubbing my butt." 

The wooden spoon smacked down viciously on his open palm. Mulder 
yelped loudly, pulling his hand back. At a raised eyebrow from his 
Master, he forced himself to hold the hand back out for another 
excruciating smack. This one landed painfully across his fingers, and 
made tears fill his eyes. By sheer force of will, he left his hand in 
position as he watched the spoon raise above it for another stroke. 

"Are you going to rub your butt without permission again?" 

"No . . .no, sir." Mulder closed his eyes. 

"Open your eyes, brat. I want you to watch me punish you. Since I 
usually work on your backside, you don't get this opportunity very 
often." 

Opportunity? Mulder opened his eyes, watching as the spoon descended 
on the palm of his abused left hand. The burn was terrible, and he 
battled the natural urge to put the injured hand between his legs to 
comfort it. He didn't dare. 

"Now, are you ready to cook?" Skinner asked jovially. 

"Yes, sir." A pout was worth a thousand words. 

Two hours later, the kitchen was a disaster. Skinner was a mess, and 
Mulder would have to have a shower before he could eat dinner but the 
result was a pretty decent looking casserole, with freshly made rolls 
and a salad. Skinner smiled at the big, proud grin across Mulder's 
pretty, flour-smeared face. 

Skinner ruffled his hair. "Good job, slave boy. Now go get cleaned up. 
Dana should be home any minute, and you're serving dinner." 

Mulder's nodded and headed for the stairs. The warm water of the 
shower felt wonderful and Mulder stayed in there a long time. When he 
finally came out, it was to find Skinner waiting for him. 

"I have your serving attire waiting in the bedroom, Fox, but first I 
want to put this cock cage on you." 

Mulder stood red-faced as Skinner brought him to full erection, and 
then fastened the uncomfortable leather and steel cage around his cock 
and balls. Once he was satisfactorily trapped, thin leather cords were 
fastened around his waist and between his buttocks pulling, his 
erection and bound balls up to lie snug against his stomach. The end 
of the leash attached to the back of the waist strap. 

As it turned out, the *serving attire* could have been a lot worse. 
Well cut, black dress pants, sans underwear of course, leaving a nice 
outline of his large, constrained cock on full display. Black 
suspenders on bare chest, black bow tie, and bare feet. The leather 
cock leash now hung down from the back of the pants, readily available 
to his Master. Even the gentlest tug sending waves of sensation 
through Mulder's cock and balls. Skinner thought Mulder had never 
looked better, and that was saying something. 

Mulder flinched when his Master reached out to pinch his right nipple. 
The agent groaned as he noticed Skinner was holding a set of small 
nipple clamps connected by a light, thin gold chain. The workmanship 
was beautiful, the purpose for which the jewelry was designed was not. 

Mulder put all of his efforts into pleading with his eyes for his 
Master to not use the clamps on his sensitive flesh. Skinner ignored 
him as he tightened the little device to Mulder's now hard nipple. 

"I know these will be a little uncomfortable but you have to remember 
you're being punished this week. I'm afraid uncomfortable is going to 
be the key word. And besides these are so beautiful, almost as 
beautiful as you are. Don't give me that look and get that lip back in 
your mouth. They go on and they stay on, end of discussion." 

Skinner repeated the procedure with the other nipple then stood back 
to survey his work. 

"Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous." The Master breathed. Mulder winced 
once more as Skinner ran a gentle finger over the delicate gold 
decorations, connected by the thin chain. 

Walter pulled his slave toward him, and used his tongue to lap 
greedily at the tiny pieces of captured flesh inside the clamps. When 
his lips came away, Mulder's nipples were wet, swollen and totally 
delectable. 

"After you wear those unpleasant little reminders for a while, I think 
it'll be easier for you to remember who's in charge here. Maybe next 
time you decide to disregard my direct orders, I'll put those on under 
one of those expensive suits of yours for a day on the job. Think that 
would teach you a good lesson, slave boy?" 

"No! I mean yes! Yes, sir!" 

Skinner reached down and gently flipped the right nipple with his 
thumb and middle finger. Even that light tap received a hiss of 
distress from his pretty slave. "This week is going to be about 
learning to behave, Fox. This is only the beginning. Now get 
downstairs and serve dinner. I'm sure Dana is waiting for us by this 
time." 

As Mulder made his way across the front room on his way to the 
kitchen, Dana rose from her chair with an appreciative "Ho-Boy!." 
Mulder blushed crimson as he continued on his way. 

Mulder efficiently served dinner to Skinner and Scully. And that would 
most definitely be the Scully of the fast, wondering hands. The woman 
was a letch. 

He couldn't help but notice a silver dome tray sitting over his own 
plate at Skinner's immediate right. And that damned white envelope was 
lying right in front of it. 

Scully's hand snaked out and caught the front waistband of Mulder's 
pants, pulling him closer to her. She ran an appreciative hand over 
the large bulge in the front of his slacks. 

"Are you packing heat, agent, or are you just hot to see me?" Scully 
purred. 

"You always make me hot, Mistress." 

She reached up and lightly fingered the chain that lay so enticingly 
on his broad, lightly-furred chest, making his already aching cock 
jump inside its insidious cage. "You'll have to show me just how hot 
later, now won't you?" 

"Yes, Mistress." 

When everyone had been served and the wine poured, Skinner instructed 
Mulder to take his place beside him, on his knees with his hands 
behind his back. 

"You took too long preparing dinner, Fox, and lost your right to eat 
the meal. But I've taken mercy on you." Skinner lifted the lid to 
display a plate of liver and onions, a large helping of broccoli and a 
big glass of milk. Mulder was clearly appalled. 

"But I want the casserole and wine!" 

Skinner reached down, and lightly smacked one of the agent's nipple 
clamps. Causing the man to yelp. 

"You're lucky to get any dinner at all. Now open your mouth, this is 
good for you." 

Mulder opened his mouth as if Skinner were going to fill it with fresh 
dirt, and then chewed the piece of liver with a look of true disgust. 
Master Skinner continued on with his own dinner, asking Scully about 
her day and indulging in a little office gossip. When he picked up 
Mulder's fork, he found the young man still chewing the first bite. 

"Mulder, swallow that food. Do you think I want to spend all night 
getting a proper meal down you?" 

"No, sir. Permission to speak, sir?" 

A heavy sigh from the Master. "What is it, slave boy?" 

"I'm not hungry, sir, may I please skip dinner tonight?" 

"When was the last time you ate?" 

Mulder eyed Scully. She was sure to rat on him. "Yesterday at noon, 
sir. But really, I don't want any more liver. I'm full." 

"Would you like some of the casserole that you made for us?" 

The agent eyed his big Master warily. He smelled a trap but he really 
was hungry. "Ye . . .yes, sir." 

"Then I will give you a chance to earn a different meal." Skinner 
reached down and undid his own zipper, pulling his large organ from 
his pants. "Blow job, brat. If you do a good job, I'll feed you some 
of what the two of us are having. If I'm not happy with your 
performance, you finish the liver." 

Mulder looked at the disgusting liver on his plate. It wasn't that he 
really minded giving Walter pleasure with his mouth, it was just that 
he hated being ordered to do so. Mulder hated to be told what to do at 
anytime but to have to crawl under the table, and service the man on 
command just went against his grain. 

"Make up your mind, brat." 

"Oh, all right." Mulder crawled under the table, and positioned 
himself between his Master's spread knees. He took the already hard 
shaft in his mouth and sucked gently. He was rewarded with a hiss of 
pleasure from Skinner. It gave him an idea. He had become pretty good 
at this, Walter told him so all the time. He could torture as well as 
be tortured. 

He alternated deep, hard sucks with soft little licks, knowing this 
combination would drive his big burly master insane. After about 
fifteen minutes he had really gotten his rhythm going and could feel 
Skinner responding nicely above him. Suddenly, he was pulled out from 
under the table, and deposited back on his knees. 

"Hey! I wasn't done!" 

Skinner ran an exasperated hand over his face. "You are finished when 
I tell you you're finished." He smacked one of the nipple clamps. "And 
what did I tell you to call me?" 

"Ouch! Sir . . .sir." Mulder said a little too sarcastically for his 
Master's taste. He watched as that all too familiar tick came back 
into Skinner's jaw. The big AD took a deep calming breath, seeming to 
count in his head, then rose from the table. He returned with a plate 
of casserole and a glass of wine. "Here, feed yourself. I can't say 
you deserve this, but I don't have the patience or the time to feed 
you that liver. We have a few other things to <discuss> before 
bedtime." 

Mulder ignored the threat, and dug into his meal, pleased that it was 
actually pretty darn good. 

Once Skinner was sure his troublesome slave was going to ingest a 
decent meal, he turned to Scully. 

"I have a surprise for you, Dana." 

"Really?" He was pleased to see her bright blue eyes sparkle with 
delight. "What is it?" 

"We're going on vacation together." He picked up the mysterious white 
envelope and lay it down in front of her. 

Mulder's chin dropped. They were going on vacation together, without 
him. Just like his mom and dad, sitting around the dinner table 
discussing trips and social events that did not include their lonely, 
neglected son. Mulder started to push his plate away, suddenly losing 
his appetite. His wrist was caught in a steel grip, as he looked up 
into a pair of annoyed brown eyes. 

"Don't even think about it." 

"I'm just not hungry anymore." Mulder said sadly. 

"Because you think I'm leaving you here?" 

Mulder blinked at him, embarrassed. "No, of course that's not why, I'm 
just not hungry anymore, that's all. And besides, I have too much work 
to do to go out of town. With both of you gone, I'll have plenty of 
time to catch up on my files. You know I hate vacations, never take 
them, waste of time." 

"Yeah, right. Eat your dinner. You're going with us." 

"I am? Really?" 

"This looks fabulous, Walter. Wherever did you hear about this place?" 

"I have a friend in the business. I called him a few months ago for a 
few tips, and he sent me information about that resort. I think it 
will be perfect for us." 

"What friend? Professional in what business? What kind of tips? How 
long have you known him? Where are we going? Why will this place be 
perfect for us? When are we leaving?" Mulder was staring at the 
contents of the envelope with undisguised curiosity as he rattled off 
his initial set of questions. He finally took a breath, and looked up 
into his Master's stunned face. "Why won't you answer any of my 
questions?" 

"For one thing, I didn't know anyone could ask that many questions at 
one time, and for another . . ." Skinner reached down and flicked a 
nipple clamp. "You aren't supposed to talk without permission. 
Remember?" 

"Oh! Yeah, sorry. I forgot." Mulder closed his mouth, still eyeing the 
color brochures in Scully's hand. 

"Walter why are there four tickets in here?" Scully held up the 
airline envelopes. 

"We're taking Krycek with us." 

"Krycek! Why are we taking Krycek? Why do you want him to tag along? 
Do we have to? How can you trust that man? Are you in love with him?" 

Skinner reached down and grabbed Mulder's chin, effectively stopping 
any further inquiries. "You listen to me, my pretty little slave boy, 
we are going to spend two weeks on a special island that caters to 
people in the lifestyle. They have five star restaurants, private 
white-sand beaches, dancing under the stars, and special training 
classes for slaves. That would be you, brat . . . and Krycek." 

"Bu ah wan ta danc unda da stars." Mulder managed to say through his 
pursed lips. 

"Oh you'll get to dance under the stars, slave boy. It's just that 
you'll be the naked one." 

* * *

White Sands Beach Club
Master Skinner's Private Suite 

Skinner slapped Fox's hands out of the way, yet again, as he adjusted 
the slave's white silk thong. 

"I can't go out there in this thing!" 

Skinner took a moment to glare at him. "You can and you will, or would 
you like me to attach the nipple clamps again today?" 

"No, sir." Mulder pouted as he stared over at Alex Krycek. "Why does 
he get to wear the black one? I like black better. I always wear 
black, it's more me." 

Krycek snorted, earning him a glare from the agent. 

"You always wear black," Skinner tried to maintain what little 
patience he had left as he fastened a beautiful gold collar and leash 
around Mulder's long neck. "because you think it makes you look dark 
and dangerous. You <never> actually look dangerous, Fox. The best I've 
ever seen you achieve was cute instead of gorgeous, and that was only 
because you'd been drugged to the gills and had this adorable blank 
look on your face. And besides, I like you in white, it suits you, my 
little crusader. In fact this week, with a few exceptions, you will 
wear nothing but white and gold. Alex will be in black and silver." 

"That is <so> asinine!" Mulder sneered. 

"Speak for yourself, Mulder." Alex looked down at his own black thong. 
Skinner had brought them to full erection, then put them in cockrings. 
The result was an impressive bulge in the tight confines of the tiny 
silk garment. "I like this look." 

"You would!" Mulder took advantage of Skinner's turned back to elbow 
the double agent hard in the ribs. 

"What do you mean by that?" Krycek moved in closer hoping to 
intimidate the aggravating agent without actually hurting him. 

"Slut!" 

"Prude!" 

"Rat!" 

"Brat!" 

"Enough!" Walter roared, immediately getting the attention of both of 
them. "If you two want to walk around out there with freshly strapped 
bottoms on display, just keep it up. Your constant bickering is 
driving me crazy." 

"Then you should have left the rat at home in the sewer where he 
belongs." 

"Mulder . . ." Skinner was interrupted by a knock at the door. 

A tall, well-muscled man stood waiting. "Mr. Skinner, my name in 
Randolf, and I will take your slaves to class now. I believe they are 
both scheduled for our Advanced Obedience session this afternoon." 

"And not a moment too soon." Skinner mumbled as he turned to collect 
the two leashes, and give his slaves over to the care of the 
professional handler. 

* * *

White Sands Beach
Two Hours Later 

Skinner and Scully sat under an umbrella, sipping cool frosted drinks 
as they watched the Advanced Obedience class being put through it's 
paces. 

Right now a dozen very gorgeous, naked men, including Mulder and 
Krycek, were on their knees with their faces in the sand, arms 
straight out in front of them, and they bare bottoms high in the air. 
All of them were slick with sweat from the unrelenting heat of the 
tropical sun that was beating down on their exposed bodies. A robust 
female drill instructor walked among them, slapping a thin, flexible 
riding crop against the palm of her hand, and inspecting their form. 

They had been in this humiliating position for some time, and Skinner 
was fairly certain that Mulder was going to need a little sunburn 
medication applied to some very private areas this evening. He smiled 
in anticipation. 

Walter couldn't help a little pride that Mulder was the most beautiful 
slave in the group. He had seen several of the spectators pointing him 
out, whispering to each other. Unfortunately, the drill instructor 
seemed to zero in on the strikingly handsome young man for just that 
reason. 

Skinner winced as, without warning, the amazon's leather switch came 
down on Mulder's upturned buttocks. "Get that pretty butt up higher, 
slave. Do you want your master to have to inconvenience himself to tan 
your naughty hide? I can tell just by looking at you that you should 
spend most of your time over his knee. You're trouble just waiting to 
happen, pretty." 

The switch cracked down two more times, leaving livid weals across the 
tightly stretched skin. Mulder jerked with each stroke, then stretched 
his back, dutifully presenting his tender, smarting bottom up even 
higher to his chastiser. 

"That's better. Now keep it up there just like that. I don't want to 
have to tell you again, trouble." She tapped her switch against 
Mulder's naked upper thighs. "I've got my eye on you, pretty. We don't 
abide spoiled brats here." 

The tall, blond instructor walked over to where a good many spectators 
sat under the shade of the protective umbrellas. "I'm going to let 
these pretty boys cook their buns out here for a little while longer. 
Then they are going to spend the rest of the day doing hard labor, 
micro-managed by a good strap applied unsparingly to their very 
deserving, bare bottoms. I suggest you take this opportunity to enjoy 
some of the wonderful recreation available on the island. Your slaves 
will be returned to your rooms at 5:00. I think you will find these 
teary-eyed boys to be more compliant, willing, and better trained than 
they were when they left you this morning." 

Krycek was assigned to trash detail along with five other slaves, and 
two handlers. Mulder was not so fortunate. He ended up on his hands 
and knees, scrubbing the floor of a secluded, seldom used, and very 
unsanitary public restroom. And while a few handlers were assigned to 
watch and discipline the other slaves, only a couple of unlucky slaves 
were turned over to private overseers. Mulder got the amazon handler, 
and her ever-ready brat-taming riding crop all to himself. 

Mulder could do nothing to please the woman. He was forced to put his 
nose one inch from the nasty floor he was scrubbing. She said it was 
so he could really see what he was doing, the fact that it put his 
bottom in a very vulnerable position did not escape either of their 
notice. She didn't hit him particularity hard with her crop, all the 
better to hit him more often. Constant, sharp little smacks that stung 
like the devil. And she had a real eye for his most tender spots. 

She also found it necessary to make him take a break once each hour to 
put him over her knee for a sound spanking. Nothing too brutal that 
would be too obvious to his master but humiliating, bad-little-boy, 
open-hand spankings that started out slow and lasted forever. And she 
was good at it. Really good. She would start out so softly that if he 
hadn't been embarrassingly unended over her lap, he would hardly have 
noticed what was happening. By the end of the spanking, however, he 
was bouncing his butt, kicking his feet, and reduced to begging her 
for mercy. She even made him cry twice. He hated her. She loved him. 

So it was, that Skinner took possession of a very sore, exhausted and 
pissed-off Mulder at 5:00 p.m. He was also handed a private invitation 
to visit The Arena after dinner as his slave had been sentenced to 
another sound spanking to be administered before he was bedded down' 
for the day. The Arena, it would seem, was a very exclusive public 
whipping area. 

Skinner was curious. Mulder was terrified. It was decided, much to 
Mulder's chagrin, that Alex and Dana would go dancing at the outside 
Cabana while Mulder and Skinner took advantage of this unique 
opportunity to visit The Arena. 

The smirk Krycek had given him, upon hearing the decision, had Mulder 
seeing red for hours afterward. 

* * *

The Arena
9:00 p.m. 

As instructed, Master Skinner and his beautiful slave arrived at The 
Arena one hour before the invited spectators would be arriving. 
Several other Doms and their frightened subs also prowled around the 
now empty facility. 

The Arena turned out to be a self-contained, enclosed building, small 
and cozy. A raised stage area in the center of a circle of bleacher 
type seating extending up perhaps ten rolls on three side, close to 
the stage. These seats were covered in a beautiful burgundy leather, 
well padded, with a small shelf table conveniently constructed in 
front of each bench. A dozen extra-wide theater seats were arranged 
directly in front of the stage. 

"I wonder how many people this building will seat?" Skinner asked as 
he looked around the small amphitheater. 

"I wonder how many people can still sit down when they leave here." 
Mulder answered with his eyes riveted on the stage, and it's wide 
array of punishment apparatus. Center stage was occupied by a sturdy 
solid oak whipping post, soft padded manacles dangling from the top 
and from widely spread bolts on the floor beneath. On one side of the 
post sat a solid, straight-back wooden chair, on the other a tall, 
sturdily made stool. To the extreme right, were stocks, with three 
holes clearly waiting to accommodate the head and wrists of it's next 
unlucky occupant. On the far left stood a table containing every 
imaginable punishment implement ever invented. 

Skinner was still looking around at the plush amphitheater. "This is 
amazing. Incredible sound system, and the way it's designed there 
isn't a bad seat in the house." 

Mulder eyed the straight back chair on the stage. "Well, I think there 
might be one or two." 

"Yeah," Skinner chuckled. "I suppose there might be at that." 

"Wh . . .what are you going to do to me here?" Mulder asked, his face 
now devoid of color. 

Skinner had dressed himself and his slave in a black tuxedos for this 
evenings festivities. Mulder looked devastating handsome, and totally 
unaware of his good-looks. It was a lethal and irresistibility erotic 
combination. 

And since Mulder had felt the need to point out just how fucking 
stupid' he thought it was to wear uncomfortable formal attire for the 
evening, only his Master knew he was suffering the insidious pinch of 
small gold nipple clamps. If Skinner pulled back the lapels of the 
jacket the clamps and their connecting chain were barely visible 
through the expensive material of his crisp, white shirt. 

"My understanding is that you flipped off' a handler today. Not a very 
wise decision, and not one I can let go unpunished. They've just 
decided that you're so pretty they'd like to watch. You should be used 
to that by now." 

"How would anyone ever get used to something like that?" 

Skinner took Mulder's arm and led him toward the temporarily vacant 
stage. "So what should it be, brat? Should I tie you naked to the 
post, and let you learn what the business end of a whip feels like? 
Watching as you buck yourself against that hard wooden pole while you 
scream and beg me for mercy?" 

Skinner pulled Mulder's arm so they moved down another few feet. "Or 
should I put you over the back of that chair, your big cock unbound 
and swinging free as I blister your backside for you while everybody 
watches? Wouldn't you be proud, Fox, the audience applauding my style 
when I made you wild and frantic in your desperation to seduce me into 
ending your punishment? I can do it. You know I can. You have such a 
vivid imagination, brat, you always promise me the most outlandish 
things if I will only stop spanking your bare, oh so red and sore 
little butt." 

Skinner pulled the brightly flushed young man back against his chest, 
kissing his temple, as Mulder's trembled in his arms. "Or maybe . . 
.you'd like to know what it feels like to be displayed in those 
stocks. Your face hidden from view. Becoming, in effect, nothing more 
than a gorgeous naked body, quivering and dancing as I paint it with 
bright, red welts from neck to knees. And brat, I'll make certain that 
I cover every inch of that beautiful skin. The inside of your thighs, 
the back of your knees, up and down that deep, dark crack of yours. 
And don't forget that tight little hole that I love so much. I'd have 
to be sure it got its fair share of stinging smacks, now wouldn't I? 
The crowd would, no doubt, tremendously enjoy the spectacle you would 
present while I punished you so thoroughly for their enjoyment. And 
trust me, brat, it would be for their enjoyment only, because you 
would not be enjoying yourself in the least." 

Skinner tightened his hold as he felt the young mans knees start to 
give. His slave was breathing heavily. This was a man who had faced 
down vile monsters and deadly government conspirators, now frightened 
senseless by mere words. Words delivered in a soft, gentle whisper by 
one lone man. "And then, maybe, I'll take you while they watch. Open 
my own pants just enough to allow my cock to penetrate your sore, 
wiggling bottom. I'd have to be careful, I wouldn't want to embarrass 
myself with a public exhibition like the one you'll be giving, but I 
think I could arrange things so that all they saw was you getting the 
good hard reaming that you deserve." 

Skinner ran his lips along the salty line of Mulder's trembling jaw. 
"So what do you think, slave boy? What do you deserve tonight?" 

"What . . .whatever you want?" It was voiced more as a question than a 
statement but still it was a big improvement for this particular 
slave. 

"I don't believe it! Finally, you decide to give me a proper slave 
answer. Mark this day in my calendar so I don't ever forget it." 

Skinner ran his lips down his slave's elegant neck, and over one 
muscular, silk clad shoulder. "Since you seem to have decided to 
behave, for one night at least, I won't strip you right now. That 
doesn't mean you won't be giving the club's special guests a good show 
later. They wouldn't settle for less, but for now you can sit here 
with me dressed as you are." 

"Thank you, Master." Mulder breathed, his voice nearly choked with 
apprehension. 

Skinner sat down in one of the wide theater seats, pulling the 
shivering slave down to sit on his lap. Mulder immediately tensed up. 
He hated sitting in Skinner's lap. He was too big and always felt 
ridiculous there. 

"Could . . .could I please sit beside you, Master?" 

"No. Each Master only gets one seat. Each of these other eleven will 
soon be filled with a Dom and his soon to be punished slave." Skinner 
chucked. "I'm sure you aren't the only one with a severe case of 
stage-fright right now." 

"Could I kneel at your feet?" 

"Fox, you're in a tuxedo for heaven's sake, you would get filthy down 
there. I'll tell you what, you can make the decision. Clothed on my 
lap or naked at my feet. Which will it be?" 

Mulder wondered if this man would ever again give him a decision to 
make where even one of the options wasn't absolutely horrendous. He 
sighed heavily, resigning himself to his fate. "Your lap." 

Skinner wrapped his arms around him more tightly and pulled him back 
against his chest. "Just relax. I have a feeling we won't even be in 
the running for most interesting couple tonight." 

A tall, handsome man came in leading a naked man on a leather leash. 
It was impossible to see if the slave was attractive, he had a black 
hood completely covering his face. After the Master was seated, the 
slave knelt on the floor in front of him, bottom high in the air. 
There was a tattoo plainly visible on his lower right bottom cheek. 
Property of Master John.' Mulder seriously hoped Skinner did not like 
that idea. 

The seats around them began to fill quickly. Most of the slaves were 
male, although there was two enormously beautiful females. Their 
owners both seemed obsessed with their nipples, rubbing and tweaking 
them continually. Over half of the slaves were already naked, a few 
wore only thongs or loin cloths, three others were fully dressed but 
their costumes ranged from expensive lingerie to the erotically 
outrageous. Skinner had been right, they were the most ordinary couple 
there. 

Mulder looked around wide-eyed as the bleacher stands began to fill 
with elegantly dressed men and women. They kept the scantily clad 
cocktail waiters hopping filling their drink orders. There was a 
general air of excitement and anticipation in the room that was almost 
visible to the naked eye. The atmosphere was actually humming. 

Mulder shivered again and wondered what Skinner had in mind for him 
tonight. At least he knew that the big AD loved him. Considering how 
this whole thing had started that was a miracle in itself. The agent 
could clearly remember being shaken awake, naked and cold, with his 
boss asking him if he had ever had sex with a man. And he still 
couldn't bear to think of where he would be right now if he had been 
assigned to a different Master. Walter had saved his life. 

Mulder felt Skinner's warm lips brush his ear. "How you doing?" 

"I'm okay." Mulder wished his voice sounded stronger but that was the 
best he could do at the moment. He tried to smile reassurance at his 
Master. 

A man in a tuxedo moved to the front of the room. Mulder was pleased 
to see that he didn't look nearly as good in his formal wear as Walter 
did in his. 

"Welcome ladies and gentlemen to The Arena. We have a gorgeous group 
of naughty slaves in need discipline this evening. So please, sit back 
and enjoy yourself. Now if each of the Masters was given a number with 
his invitation, that is the order we will be taking for punishing your 
slaves." 

There was a general shuffling as the Masters retrieved their numbers. 
Mulder's heart sank as he saw they would be number five. Too soon, 
much too soon. He felt Skinner's arms tighten around him once more, 
offering comfort and reassurance. 

"You would have gotten a spanking tonight anyway. Just pretend these 
other people aren't here." 

Mulder nodded his head but not before Skinner saw the look of pure 
incredulity on the young man's face. Okay, so it was easier said than 
done. They would never see these people again. This was an opportunity 
for Mulder to explore his voyeur side. If he had a voyeur side. 
Skinner reminded himself again that he needed to, within reason, 
convince Mulder just how attractive he was. Nobody should go through 
life looking like this, but feeling so ordinary. Then again, it was 
part of Mulder's charm and these people would respond to that very 
thing tonight. 

The first couple, two men, scared Mulder. Skinner thought they lacked 
finesse and imagination. The brutish Master had dragged his slave up 
on stage, tied him to the whipping post, and flailed away at his naked 
body with a heavy strap. The crowd tried to act excited but it was 
obvious they were trying too hard to enjoy the show, were disappointed 
but figured this might be all there was so they better enjoy it. 

Couple two and three were a little better but not by much. A very 
beautiful, naked male slave put in the stocks, which was a waste of a 
really gorgeous face in Skinner's opinion, his bottom receiving a 
severe but short, very short, dose of a leather paddle. The Master 
seemed in a hurry to get it over with and get back to their room. 
Well, the slave was gorgeous after all. 

The next Master turned his female slave over his knee for a hairbrush 
spanking. It was a marked improvement as he had to lift her little 
mini shirt to get to her naked bottom. Skinner would have preferred to 
find some expensive panties under there. Maybe in pink or virginal 
white. But alas, there was nothing but naked woman. A very dramatic, 
squealing, over-acting naked woman. Skinner was inordinately relieved 
when they left the stage. 

He could feel Mulder trembling more as each couple finished. Skinner 
couldn't blame him, this did seem pretty amateurish and inane. He 
could see the emcee had even lost interest by this point. 

The fourth couple was a trial for everyone. The Master, dressed in 
cheesy leather, made his male slave beg for each stroke and then thank 
him profusely. It might have worked well in the bedroom but in this 
setting it did nothing but increase the sale of drinks and give Mulder 
time to turn into a basket case. 

"What are you going to do to me?" Fox asked frantically, twisting in 
Skinner's arms so he could look straight into his Master's face while 
the man on the stage proved that he could, indeed, count to fifty 
while boring everyone else in the room to tears. 

"Make myself the envy of everyone in this room." 

"Oh shit! Oh no! I'll . . .I'll pay you! I'll give you a million 
dollars to walk out of here right now. They won't try to stop you, not 
if you do that big mean marine thing you do." Mulder looked at him 
like a drowning man bargaining for the last life preserver. 

Skinner took his slaves face in his hands. "Do you trust me?" 

"Ye . . .yes." 

"Then <trust> me. I promise that if you just relax and do what I tell 
you to do tomorrow morning we will have fifteen, no twenty-five offers 
to purchase you arrive at our suite." 

"Pur . . .purchase me!" Mulder squeaked. "You wouldn't . . .you 
wouldn't sell me . . . please, tell me that you . . ." 

"Of course not! How could you even think that? I love you. You're my 
slave, my personal property, mine to control, or punish or love as I 
wish and I wish to love you. Forever. You know that, now don't you?" 

Mulder's eyes fell to his lap. "Yes, I know that." 

"Good, remember it. They just called our number." 

Skinner did not give his dazed slave time to react, he merely took the 
extremely handsome young man's arm and walked him up to the stage. A 
quiet awe fell over the crowd that hadn't been there for the already 
naked or nearly naked slaves that had come before. Skinner smiled to 
himself. This was going to be so much fun. He loved to manipulate. 
Especially a crowd of over-zealous perverts like this one. 

The tall distinguished Master walked his beautiful young slave up onto 
the stage and stood quiet for a moment before the expectant crowd. 

"Do you see this young man standing beside me?" he asked, looking 
around the crowd. It took mere seconds before they fell into the game, 
crying out a resounding yes to his question. 

"He's very beautiful, don't you agree?" 

The crowd went wild as Mulder blushed furiously. 

"Turn around, gorgeous, so these lovely people can see just how 
handsome you really are." 

Mulder swallowed hard, blushed harder, and turned his back to the 
crowd. 

"Isn't that the most gorgeous ass you've ever seen?" Skinner smiled 
wickedly at the crowd. 

The crowd smiled back, hooting and hollering like a bunch of teenagers 
at a highschool football game. 

"Turn back around, Fox. Your face is just too handsome to hide." Again 
a roar of approval from the crowd. 

"Do you believe his name is Fox? I swear that's his real name. Now 
there were some parents to make me a believer in physic abilities. 
Don't you agree?" 

Now even some of the Masters and slaves had joined in the hubbub. If 
Mulder got any redder, he was going to faint. The man was practically 
scuffing one toe into the carpet. 

"I've embarrassed him." Skinner ran a finger down the side of Mulder's 
flushed face. "He doesn't like to be the center of attention but he 
was a very bad boy today and angered one of the drill instructors." 

"What did you do today, Fox, to make that instructor so angry?" 

For the first time all evening, Mulder smiled. Not just any smile, but 
that one that Skinner craved. The one that was guaranteed to stop the 
heart of any red blooded, still living human, male or female. And this 
crowd was in no way immune to the Mulder-charm. They clapped and 
whistled, gasped and moaned. Then his rebellious slave held up the 
middle finger of his right hand and presented it arrogantly to the 
crowd. They may be here to watch him get spanked but at least he got 
to flip them off first. He could live with that. The audience went 
wild, laughing and clapping and yelling their approval of the pretty 
bundle of trouble, decked out in a black tuxedo, and an irresistible 
grin. 

Skinner held up his hand for quiet, looking at them beseechingly. "So 
what should happen to a pretty slave boy who flips off a handler?" 

"Spank him!" "Spank him!" "Spank him!" "Spank him!" "Spank him!" 
"Spank him!" "Spank him!" "Spank him!" "Spank him!" "Spank him!" 

Skinner held up his hand for quiet again. 

"What about you, Fox? What do you think you deserve?" 

The still grinning Mulder, who now stood with his jacket pulled back 
by hands resting seductively on his slim hips, just shrugged his broad 
shoulders at his smiling Dom. "Whatever you think, Master." And the 
ones who hadn't fallen for the long legs, or the smoldering eyes, or 
the melt-your-heart smile, caved for the black-velvet voice. 

Skinner just stood there looking at him for a moment before turning 
back to address the crowd. "How would you like to pick up something 
like this at the theater, or maybe a museum opening? Elegant, 
sophisticated, beautiful." 

Screams bounced off the arena walls. 

"There is just nothing more gorgeous than a good-looking man in a 
tuxedo, don't you agree?" Skinner raised that hand before they could 
really get into answering this latest question. Then he yelled out 
loudly, "That is until you take down those expensive pants, and see 
just what he's hiding under them." 

Skinner quickly sat down in the heavy straight-backed chair and pulled 
his surprised slave over his knees as the crowd hollered and cheered. 
He expertly flipped the tale of Mulder's jacket up over his head, 
effectively blinding his slave. Fox would <not> be watching the crowd 
while they watched him get his bare bottom blistered tonight. 

Skinner took a deep breath, now he can take his time. No one was bored 
anymore. Slowly he reached under his slave to unfasten his pants, 
lowering them until they rest at the back of the knees. Another quick 
flip, this time of a white linen shirt tail. A hint of a long smooth 
back, an even longer expanse of perfectly formed, well-toned legs, and 
black silk boxers leaving more than one spectator squirming in their 
seat. 

A couple of quick, hard smacks on black silk, and a slow gentle rub, 
pulling and twisting the smooth, luxurious silk fabric across even 
smoother, more luxurious skin. 

The big Dom slipped his thumbs into the waistband of the silk boxers, 
and felt his slave shudder hard. He stoped to gently rub circles on 
Fox's back, moving the shirt up even further, whispering to the young 
man who was lying so quietly, trembling, across his lap. The crowd 
waited breathlessly. 

Skinner's hands moved back to the boxers, slowly, oh so slowly lowered 
them until they too rested at the handsome young man's knees. Bare. 
Bare for all to see, and beautiful. So beautiful it was almost a sin 
to have ever covered that body with clothing in the first place. 

Skinner ran his hand lovingly over the smooth, white bottom spread 
before him. Caressed it. Worshiped it. He wanted to make it perfectly 
clear to these people, these strangers, that although he was going to 
spank this soft, delectable skin he did so only because he loved the 
young man so much. 

The Arena became so quiet that Skinner could hear the sound of 
Mulder's quick, shallow breaths. Panting. It's time to get this over 
with, and get out of here. 

Skinner lifted his hand and brought it down hard on the waiting 
bottom. He watched as the pink hand-print appeared on the white flesh 
as the young man quivered over his knees. The Master tightened his 
grip on the slaves's waist and brought his hand down again. A sharp 
crack in the now silent room. No mistaking the sound of a hand 
spanking bare skin. No other sound like it in the world. 

The spanking began in earnest. There is no longer any doubt that this 
slave will leave here tonight with a well-warmed bottom. His Master is 
a perfectionist. 

Walter spanks in a consistent, recognizable pattern. Three spanks 
delivered to one tender spot, move on to the next spot, just a little 
away from the last but not overlapping. Not yet. Left side, right 
side, middle. Upper hip to middle of the thighs. Down one side, up the 
other. Repeat the pattern until the whole target area has been well 
and truly attended. 

Start the pattern over. Three new smacks on previously punished skin. 
Red turning to scarlet. A few blisters form here and there. There's 
more reaction now. Fox starts to beg. Earnest, heart-felt pleas for 
forgiveness and mercy. A few soft sobs. The only sound in the 
auditorium is that of an unrelenting hand slapping naked flesh, and a 
slave begging his Master to pardon his sins. To grant redemption and 
put an end to his chastisement. But the Master has an obligation. A 
lesson to impart. And the slave's bare, smarting bottom is the 
receptor for that vital message.

Skinner starts over for the third time. There are real tears now. The 
spectators have been forgotten as Mulder kicks his feet kic, his butt 
wiggling, his hands pounding the floor. The now repentant slave begs 
for the terrible spanking to end, aware of nothing but the pain in his 
well-spanked bottom. The slave's whole world has been reduced to two 
firm mounds of withering, burning flesh. He will do anything, he 
promises, anything at all, to stop this spanking on his over-heated 
bottom. 

But Skinner knows he can't stop. It's not time to stop yet. The lesson 
hasn't been sufficiently learned. His big hand still falls on bare, 
inflamed skin. He wants to give the crowd what they came to see, he 
wants to give his slave what he needs. The island is tough for slaves, 
Fox, stay out of trouble. Learn your lesson well tonight, and the next 
two weeks will go easier for you'. 

Finally Skinner delivers two more hard spanks right where Fox will sit 
to eat his breakfast in the morning. Mulder is consumed with 
self-pity. The Master knows that his slave thinks that his butt is a 
bleeding ruin. In reality, there won't even be any bruising. A good 
Master knows how to impart a terrible sting without any real damage. 
Skinner is a good Master. 

Mulder cried himself to sleep in Scully's arms, after a promise from 
his Master that the next night he would be allowed to go dancing under 
the stars.

And Walter had been wrong. The next morning there were thirty-two 
offers to purchase Mr. Skinner's beautiful, prized slave. All were 
politely refused. 

*****

White Sand Beach
The Next Morning 

While Skinner and Scully went diving around the island's beautiful 
coral reefs, Mulder and Krycek were running, clothed only in their 
tiny thongs, on the beach. They and their group of other unfortunate 
slaves. 

As they pounded along the white sand, Mulder's mind began to wonder. 
This was something that happened a lot when he ran. Warm up, get in 
the groove and just let his mind free. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the blast of a shrill whistle. 

"What do you think you're doing?" The drill instructor shouted at him. 

Mulder abruptly stopped and turned around to see that he had gotten 
quiet a good distance away from the rest of the group. He sprinted 
back to stand in front of the drill instructor. 

"Uh, sorry. I run a lot and I just . . ." 

"Quiet, slave." She pushed a ball gag between Mulder's teeth and 
secured it behind his neck. She then turned to Krycek. "You! Bend him 
over your knee for punishment." 

Krycek didn't give the dazed Mulder time to contemplate his fate. He 
put one foot up on a low sea wall, and deftly turned the agent over 
his left thigh. His red bottom still showing the effects of last 
night's public spanking. It obviously hadn't been as effective as 
Master Skinner had hoped. Mulder struggled a little, then sighed, 
resigning himself to his humiliating situation. 

Krycek watched with growing anxiety as the woman took a rather large, 
cone-shaped butt plug out of her pack, and began to coat it with a 
thick white cream. 

"Uh look, this is not a good idea," Krycek said. Her head snapped up, 
surprised that this slave would have the audacity to speak to her 
without permission. "I don't want to tell you how to do your job or 
anything but that thing is pretty big, and this isn't exactly the most 
experienced slave you're ever going to meet. As far as I know, he's 
only ever had one male lover, and that one handles him like he's made 
out of spun glass or something." 

"That's obvious." The woman snorted. "As beautiful as he is, this 
might well be the worst behaved slave I've ever seen. And just look at 
his already punished backside, it's obvious his Master is trying but 
this one is just too stubborn for his own good. I know how to correct 
that in a hurry." 

The woman continued to coat the plug as if she hadn't heard a word of 
Alex's warning. "You have to listen to me," he tried one more time. 
"You send him home hurt, and you're going to have one pissed-off, 
overprotective, spitting-mad ex-marine on your hands. It <will not> be 
pleasant, trust me. And what the hell is that stuff you're putting on 
it anyway?" 

"It's analgesic muscle rub, meant to relax overtaxed muscles, but I've 
found it adds a nice little extra zip to a butt plug punishment. He 
won't soon forget this day." 

"Holy shit! You're going to burn him alive with that stuff!" Alex held 
on tighter to the now frantically struggling Mulder. He had to get 
through to this lady and an enraged Mulder would not be a help at this 
point. "You absolutely cannot do this to him. You just don't 
understand. You think you have just another untrained slave here, but 
trust me when I say, Walter Skinner, will kill anyone who hurts this 
man, and probably get away with it in any court in the land. The man 
has connections. I repeat, you do not want to do this." 

The woman pulled apart the lush, still reddened cheeks, and pressed 
the plug hard against the agent's tight opening. "I suggest you shut 
up and hold him still unless you want one of these shoved up your 
pretty ass, too." 

Krycek watched as the uncomfortable looking plug slowly made it's way 
into Mulder's twitching body. As his opening stretched to accommodate 
the intruder, Mulder groaned in pain, his voice barely audible around 
the ball gag in his mouth. As the larger middle section finally passed 
inside, Krycek felt Mulder's body finally relax, and the rest of the 
plug slid easily home, it's base resting snugly and securely between 
Fox's smooth cheeks. 

"Let him up." 

Krycek let go of Mulder, and stepped back as if he had been holding a 
Bengal Tiger while the zookeeper gave it an enema. And true to form, 
Mulder came up fighting. That is, until the analgesic rub kicked in a 
few seconds later. Suddenly a sweat broke out on the agent's forehead, 
and his face turned a bright, unhealthy red. 

Mulder started dancing in place. Both hands going behind him to 
dislodge the burning plug trapped inside his butt. A steady stream of 
cursing and pleading leaking around the gag. 

Krycek winced as the drill instructor pulled Mulder's desperate hands 
around in front of him, and secured them with padded cuffs. 

"Can't have you dislodging your little friend, now can we?" She turned 
to Alex. "I would suggest you keep him running right beside you. 
Getting a good whipping with my crop, while wearing the plug, is not 
an experience I think he would enjoy." 

She looked around at the other wide-eyed slaves. "All right, boys, now 
that you've seen what happens to disobedient little slave brats. Lets 
move it." 

The slaves took off with renewed vigor. Krycek was careful to keep 
Mulder right beside him. For every step that Alex took, Mulder took 
three or four frantic little hops, while tears streamed down his 
flushed face, and his hips twitched as if he were being eaten by red 
ants from the inside out. 

The anal stimulation caused a hard, painful arousal of Mulder's cock. 
Although beautiful to Alex, he knew it had to hurt as the big cock 
bounced heavily as the agent ran and frantically bucked his hips at 
some invisible and insatiable lover. 

Every small bump in the path, every minute obstacle that had to be 
missed, every time the slaves were ordered to stop for a set of 
calisthenics, Mulder groaned with agony. 

All Alex could think about was what Skinner was going to do when he 
found out about this. 

* * * 

Master Skinner's Private Suit
6:00 p.m. 

Skinner looked down at the young man who lay listlessly bent over the 
edge of the large bathtub. It had taken three enemas but Fox was 
finally quiet and relatively comfortable. 

Walter could hear Dana through the closed bathroom door. She was still 
on the phone with the management of the club. It was pretty clear from 
her conversation that Mulder would have a new drill instructor by 
morning or she would know the reason why. 

The Master reached down to rub slow, soothing circles on Fox's 
beautiful back. He finally pulled the young man up, catching him as 
his legs gave out under him. The big man swung his slave easily up and 
into his arms. 

"I can walk, sir. I had just been that position for two long." 

"Let me carry you, Fox, I want to. I'm so sorry." 

"Not your fault. She took one look at me and it was hate at first 
sight. I do that to people sometimes." 

"Did it ever occur to you that she singled you out because she liked 
what she saw?" 

Mulder shook his head adamantly. "No, there wasn't anything about me 
that she liked, trust me." 

Skinner shook his head. Mulder had no idea that he was beautiful or 
that a real slave would have looked on the instructor's attention as 
foreplay. It made the AD renew his vow to retain ownership of Mulder. 
Any other Dom, and his mouthy, untrainable slave could end up on a 
slab. 

As he carried Fox toward the bedroom, Krycek jumped up from his chair 
to follow him. "Is he all right now?" 

"Yes, no thanks to you. Why did you let this happen, Krycek?" Skinner 
growled, his face a thundercloud of fury. 

"Huh?" Alex swept his hand down to indicate his scantily clad body. 
"In case you haven't noticed, you set me up as a slave. I don't 
exactly have a lot of personal power here. So will he be all right or 
not?" 

Skinner watched as Mulder gave him a don't talk about me like I'm not 
here' look and pulled the covers up under his chin , drifting off to 
sleep. 

"Yeah, Dana says a few hours of sleep and he'll be fine. That plug was 
extremely uncomfortable but not really harmful." 

They walked back out into the center room of the suite where Dana was 
off the phone but still angrily pacing the floor. 

"Well Miss Blond Inquisitor is officially off Mulder's case. Seems 
this isn't the first time she's focused on a beautiful slave for her 
little games. Bitch! She's been suspended pending a full review. 
They're going to assign a new trainer for Fox, and also lighten his 
schedule so he has more leisure time to spend with us." 

"Hey, what about me?" Alex asked, looking more than a little 
concerned. 

Dana waved her hand at him in a dismissive manner. "You go where he 
goes. In fact, go get some rest yourself right now. We have a big 
night planned for the both of you." She stopped Krycek as he happily 
headed for the room where Mulder was already in bed. She glared into 
sparkling, bright green eyes. " <No> kissing, Krycek. If you know 
what's good for you, you'll keep your hands off him." 

"Shit!" 


* * *

Master Skinner's Private Suite
9:00 p.m. 

Scully had been right, after a few hours sleep and a decent meal 
Mulder was feeling great. And, he was going dancing with Scully and 
Skinner. He grimaced . . . and Krycek. 

His Master had dressed him in a practically transparent while silk 
shirt, white linen pants and sandles. He had argued about the gold 
collar and leash until Skinner threatened the nipple clamps again. 
Somehow that made the collar look a lot more acceptable. 

Krycek got to wear the black again. Lucky bastard, interloper and all 
round rat. Mulder still wanted to wear the black. Not only was it 
sexier, Alex's nipples did not show through his dark shirt the way 
Mulder's were clearly visible through his light one. When Mulder 
pointed this out, both Skinner and Scully seemed to think the nipples 
were an advantage of some sort. Just one more reason to hate Krycek. 

Just as Mulder passed the outside door on his way back to the bedroom, 
someone knocked. 

"I'll get it." He yelled in case anyone was listening. 

He opened the door and took an involuntary step back. Standing there 
had to be the biggest, meanest looking man Mulder had ever had the 
misfortune to meet. He wasn't unattractive exactly, just scary 
looking. Massive, over-exercised shoulders leading down to a narrow 
waist and lean hips. He looked like an advertisement for the next 
B-grade Conan action movie. Mulder hated him on sight. 

"Uh . . .can I help you?" Hoping the man had the wrong room, and would 
leave quickly before the agent had to embarrass himself by calling for 
Scully to protect him. 

"Well, from the looks of you, " the big man leered, making Mulder 
blush to the roots of his hair. "You must be the slave, Fox." 

Mulder took another step back. This time stepping on someone's foot. 
Someone who yelped loudly, and grabbed Mulder's arms to keep them both 
from landing in an ungracious heap on the floor at Conan's feet. 

"I'm Scorpion," the Neanderthal said, as if that should mean something 
to someone. Mulder just continued to stare at him mutely, adding a 
couple of slow blinks to help convey his utter confusion. 

"You know, you're real cute but you're not very bright are you?" He 
eyed Mulder from heat to toe. "Well, I guess you don't have to be 
smart when you're that good-looking." The man spoke again, slowly and 
distinctly this time, as if addressing a small and not very clever 
child. "My name," he pointed to his own bulging chest, " is Scorpion. 
You know, your new drill instructor." 

Mulder's eyes managed to get even wider, as his face paled. "Holy 
shit!" 

"Yeah," Krycek said, tightening his hold on Mulder's arms. "Holy 
shit!" 

The End Part 8