Randolf Wolfe looked down at the young man sleeping in his bed, Fox 
Mulder. Wolfe had been obsessed . . . no consumed, with the handsome 
FBI Agent for weeks.

Long agonizing weeks in which Mulder had stalked him, harassed him 
endlessly, and even caused him tremendous physical pain on several 
occasions. Any other man would have found fangs buried in his throat 
at the first full moon, cop or not. But not this beautiful, 
dark-haired boy. For some reason, which even he could not understand, 
Randolf Wolfe had fallen hopelessly in love. For the first time in his 
life. With a totally infuriating, brilliant, aggravating and handsome 
federal agent.

Mulder stirred slightly and mumbled under his breath. Wolfe found 
himself smiling like a besotted teenager and realized, with no little 
shock, that he wasn't even going to rape this intriguing creature. He 
wanted Fox to fall in love with him. For years he had taken what he 
wanted from whomever he wanted, thinking only of his own pleasure, his 
own desires. But now he found himself wanting more. He wanted this man 
to look at him with his hypnotic hazel eyes full of tenderness and . . 
. dare he say the word . . . love. Yeah, he had it bad.

Mulder stirred again, long dark lashes fluttering against pale cheeks, 
"Scully?"

Wolfe frowned. That red headed woman again. He didn't trust her. Not 
at all. There was something dangerous about her. Wolfe had learned 
long ago to fear the female of any breed more than the male. Females 
were insidious and viscous creatures, especially when one of their own 
was threatened. And Wolfe had no doubt that Dana Scully was under the 
delusion that Mulder was her personal property. She was just going to 
have to accept the fact that now, Mulder had a new master.

"Fox. Wake up, My Beautiful Pup. I have so much to tell you, so much 
to share with you."

Mulder slowly opened his eyes, blinking in confusion. "Wh . . . 
where's Scully?"

"That woman was never with you, Fox." He indicated the huge, square 
jawed man standing to his right smirking down at Mulder. "It was the 
visiting bounty hunter that I sent to fetch you to my beautiful island 
home."

"Alien . . ." Mulder sat straight up in bed, "Skinner?! What happened 
to Assistant Director Skinner?"

"Forget him, Fox. I've never met the man, nor do I wish to do so. You 
will never see him again and I would think you would be happy about 
that. I was informed that he and that dictatorial brother of his were 
very cruel to you. I don't think you have ever gotten the kind of care 
you deserve. I plan to change all that, Fox. I am a very wealthy man 
and I will shower you with everything you could ever desire."

"I want Scully . . . and Skinner." Mulder jutted out his bottom lip in 
a well-practiced pout. Mulder thought he looked determined. Wolfe 
thought he looked adorable. Mulder would not have been pleased.

"Well, almost everything," Wolfe smiled down at him. "You do not need 
that frightening little hellcat or that sadistic bully in your life, 
Fox. You have me now and everything my money can buy. All you need do, 
is ask and your slightest wish will be fulfilled."

He reached down and ran his fingers along Mulder's smooth cheek. The 
agent flinched and pulled away, turning his face away from the 
besotted werewolf.

"Time, Fox. It will just take a little time. Once you are feeling 
stronger, I will take you on a tour of the island. I know that 
eventually, you will be very happy and contented here with me."

Dog Tooth Island 
Several Hours Later

Mulder lay sullenly on his bed in his lavishly decorated prison. He 
pulled at the soft restraint that held his left wrist securely to the 
bed. After his initial conversation with Wolfe, Mulder had been 
allowed to rest and acquaint himself with his rooms. There was a large 
comfortable sitting room with an outrageously expensive entertainment 
center, a lavish bedroom and a large gold and green marble bath.

During his explorations, Mulder had gathered several items that he 
thought might be useful and had hidden most of them under his 
mattress.

Working quickly, he had emptied a tube of toothpaste and using the 
spring from his ink pin and some dental floss, he had constructed a 
whistle. He had hoped its pitch would be so high that when Wolfe 
returned, as promised, it would cause the werewolf such debilitating 
pain that Mulder could escape the house.

It had worked great . . . well almost. When the smiling werewolf had 
entered his room, Mulder had blown on the whistle with all his might. 
Wolfe had literally doubled over in pain, holding his knees and 
gasping for breath. Unfortunately the two large men behind him were 
not of the canine persuasion and had grabbed the recusant agent as he 
made his way out the door.

Eventually, Wolfe had recovered to some degree. Mulder noticed that he 
kept batting on the side of his head with his open hand, as if he had 
been swimming and gotten some water in his ear. And, he also seemed to 
have a tendency to speak a little too loudly afterward.

It was clear that the two men holding Mulder expected the werewolf to 
descend on the young man in a bloodthirsty fury. They were holding him 
securely but also seemed ready to bolt to safety if need be. Mulder 
thought that <bolt> part sounded like an excellent idea.

But Wolf seemed remarkably calm. Well, he did turn that unusual shade 
of purple that Mulder had seen on Skinner so many times but then he 
took a couple of deep calming breaths, also a Skinner trait. Hey, 
maybe they were brothers, too. Mulder decided that as soon as he 
escaped, he was going to do a through check of Walter Skinner's family 
tree.

"Fox," the agent couldn't help but flinch as the werewolf was almost 
screaming with this contradictory and really bizarre looking smile 
pasted on his face. "I am going to forgive you this time. I know you 
are upset and highly resourceful, so I should have expected something 
like this. But I warn you, Pretty Pup, don't do it again or I will be 
forced to teach you some new tricks. More mannerly ones."

So now instead of a tour of his own personal prison, he was chained to 
his bed. He really needed to do some reconnaissance of the island and 
plan his escape.

He had been brought here by sea. That he remembered. He had a vague 
recollection of lush greenery as he had been carried from the ship. 
The time aboard the ship was a fevered blur in Mulder's mind. He had 
already been ill with some unknown virus caused by the bite to his 
shoulder. And then his sea sickness had kicked in with a vengeance. 
Mulder was too preoccupied with fever induced nightmares and his 
rolling stomach to cause any trouble.

He knew that at first he had received a few unappreciated leers from 
the werewolf crew but they had lost interest quickly. Even bisexual 
wolves were not attracted to a man who vomited every hour on the hour, 
good looking or not. The alien bounty hunter had waited until they 
were safely on the island to cure him of the virus. Bastard.

Now that he could think clearly, he needed to find a way to contact 
Skinner. He had to get off this island before he experienced a whole 
new definition of <Puppy Love>.

Mulder stared as the door opened and two very large men stepped into 
the room. They were dressed casually in loose white shirts and tan 
trousers. Obviously servants. Mulder pulled frantically at his 
restraints and backed up against the head of the bed.

"Calm down, Little Fox." The larger of the two spoke with a soft Cajun 
accent, his teeth gleaming like the finest pearls in his dark face. He 
pulled a syringe out of his pocket. We don't want to have to drug you 
but we will if you make it necessary. Mr. Wolfe would like your 
presence at dinner tonight. He has invited a few friends to whom he 
wishes to introduce you. We are here to dress you."

"I can dress myself."

"Not anymore, Little Fox. You now belong to Mr. Wolfe. He decides who 
does and does not dress - and undress - you. This drug that I have 
will only affect you for an hour or so. You will be fine for dinner 
but will suffer from a terrible headache. Is it really worth it? 
Cooperation is so much easier for all of us."

Mulder eyed the man, "I . . . I don't want any more drugs."

"Excellent choice, Little Fox." The man smiled broadly and moved to 
unbuckle the restraint holding Mulder to the bed. Once freed Mulder 
was escorted to the bath and the soiled clothing pulled from his body.

"Since we're sharing this romantic moment, how about telling me your 
name."

The man threw back his head and laughed merrily, "Mr. Wolf is correct, 
you are very amusing, Little Fox. My name is Sebastian and this is 
Gustav. We are your personal trainers."

Mulder bristled at the term but held his silence. He did not want any 
more drugs.

The silent brooding Gustav reached over to turn on the tap in the 
giant marble tub. Mulder watched the blond giant with trepidation. 
Never trust a man who does not speak.

"I'd really prefer to take a shower, Guys. I'm not a bubble bath kind 
of guy."

"Mr. Wolfe's orders. Please step into the tub and leave your hands at 
your sides at all times."

"Look . . ."

"Little Fox, you must remain silent now. Gustav and I have work to 
do."

Mulder sat silently and blushed profusely as the two men bathed his 
body throughly. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes as his face was 
carefully shaved. Once out of the tub, his body was lavishly rubbed 
with a fragrant oil.

Still blushing wildly and gritting his teeth in anger, he was escorted 
into the bedroom where he hoped that no more mortification awaited. 
Gustav seated him and began to style his hair while Sebastian pawed 
through a large wardrobe set against the far wall.

When Mulder was again standing in the middle of the floor waiting for 
his dignity to be somewhat restored by being dressed again, Sebastian 
turned to him with serious brown eyes. "You are a proud man, Little 
Fox. I think it will be very hard for you to accept your new life with 
Mr. Wolfe. However, I must warn you I will accept no argument about 
your attire for this evening."

Mulder felt cold perspiration break out on his top lip. Oh Shit!

Sebastian gently lifted Mulder's right wrist and encircled it with a 
black leather cuff and fastened it snugly. He repeated the action on 
the left wrist as well as both ankles. All this was done very 
carefully as if the servant were dealing with a wild and skittish 
animal.

When Sebastian picked up the leather studded collar, Mulder took a 
step back. "No. No, I can't wear that. I can't." He was shaking his 
head frantically and trying to move away only to run into the solid 
wall of Gustav's body.

"Little Fox, please," Sebastian pleaded, "I have permission to punish 
you as I see fit. Don't make me do that. You have a very difficult 
evening ahead of you as it is, the marks of a beating on your body 
will only increase your discomfort."

Mulder stared into the man's obsidian eyes for several long moments 
and then nodded slowly, trying desperately to control his breathing. 
After the collar was placed firmly around his neck, Sebastian picked 
up one final piece of leather. A pouch which he placed on Mulder 
genitals and fastened securely.

Mulder looked down at himself. He felt so many emotions he could 
hardly process all of them; panic, shame, humiliation, fear and a very 
unhealthy dose of anger. Anger was the one thing that could get him 
seriously hurt here. No reckless action, wait for Skinner to come.

"Come now, Little Fox. We must go downstairs now. The Master awaits."

"N . . . n . . . no, I . . . I can't." Mulder gasped for breath.

Sebastian gently stroked his back with one giant hand until his 
breathing slowed slightly. "You will be fine. Just do as you are told 
and then I will bring you back up here. Cooperate and it will all be 
over soon." 

The large Cajun's voice was like well-aged brandy, smooth and silky, 
falling on Mulder's ears like warm soothing water. He felt himself 
stumbling toward the door, Sebastian's hand still on his back.

When Mulder reached the bottom of the stairs, Sebastian pulled a black 
silk scarf from his pocket and moved to blindfold the agent.

"No, please don't. I . . . I hate to be blindfolded. I . . . I . . . 
please don't."

Sebastian caressed his back once more. "Sometimes it is best not to 
see, My Little Fox. You have much ahead of you tonight. Take what 
comfort is offered you." As the blindfold brought darkness to Mulder's 
world, he felt his panic increase and tried desperately to push it 
back down.

The agent heard a door open and then he was gently guided forward and 
up several steps. He was then told to kneel with his knees apart, 
ankles together, hands resting on his spread thighs.

"Now sit back on your legs. Keep your back very straight and your head 
lowered. And do not, under any circumstance, say anything unless you 
are asked a direct question. This is very important, Little Fox. It is 
not necessary for you to make this any worse for yourself than it 
already is. Will you try to do this for me?"

Mulder swallowed hard and nodded. "What . . . what is he going to do 
to me?"

"Don't worry, Little Fox. Mr. Wolfe seems quite taken with you. I 
doubt he will be harsh. He merely wants to display you to his friends. 
Just do as you are told and this evening will be over soon."

He heard Sebastian quietly leave. Mulder had no idea where he was but 
there seemed to be no one else in the room. Which suited him just 
fine, he felt totally exposed in this humiliating position. He felt 
his temper rising and tried to damp is back down. Skinner would find 
him. Skinner would rescue him, it wouldn't do to get himself killed 
before his boss showed up. Arriving here to find out that his agent 
had been killed because of another of his temper tantrum would really 
piss Skinner off.

He listened for several minutes and heard no sound, save for the 
ticking of a large clock. He tentatively reached out his hand and felt 
. . . smooth cloth, glassware, china and . . . silver! He cautiously 
felt around, trying to remain in position as much as possible but he 
could find no knife. He thought about lifting the blindfold to look 
closer but decided against it. He had no way of knowing when someone 
would come back into the room. He carefully pulled a fork close to his 
body, praying it was indeed real silver, and hid it under his thigh. 
If no one missed the fork or assumed it had simply been forgotten, he 
just might have a chance to escape tonight.

He sat there for what seemed like hours. His feet and calves had gone 
numb long ago. Then he heard muffled voices coming closer. The door 
opened and a crowd seemed to be moving into the room. He felt his face 
redden as he tried to discern how many were present. He did not want 
them to touch him.

He heard the scraping of chairs and the clink of glassware. It was on 
all sides of him, below him but close. Too close. 

Men's voices. All men. He had not heard a woman's voice.

"He really is sleek and beautiful, Randy. You always could pick the a 
good thoroughbred."

"Well, Wolfe Old Boy, he is pretty but is he housebroken?"

"Perhaps he's our desert? He certainly is tempting enough. You are 
going to share, aren't you, Randy?"

Mulder felt his face flush hotter and his temper flare brighter. He 
took several deep breaths. He was going to get through this thing and 
then, he promised himself, he was going to kill Randolf Wolfe.

Mulder felt hands behind his head and the silk scarf was removed. He 
kept his eyes closed and his head down. It was easier if he couldn't 
see what was happening to him.

He heard the clink of silver on fine crystal. "Gentlemen, may I 
introduce, <Fox>. Former Special Agent with the Federal Bureau of 
Investigation." Wolfe raised his glass, "Beautiful. Brilliant. And now 
. . . mine!" Mulder felt his face grow hotter still. If this 
continued, he was going to spontaneously combust. Damn it, he did not 
want to blush in front of these people.

"Open your eyes, Fox. Let them see just how beautiful you really are."

Mulder sat motionless, his heart pounding in his throat. Frozen to the 
spot.

"Fox. Do it now."

Mulder took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He slowly raised his 
head and his breath caught. He was seated on a long formal banquet 
table. Shit, he was the damned centerpiece! He had suspected as much 
but the reality was mind boggling.

Three men in tuxedos, seated in chairs on each side, with Wolf at the 
end.

Mulder slowly licked his lips and tried to push down his damned 
traitorous temper one more time. He could not lose his cool, not here 
and not now. He had to stay in control of his riotous emotions until 
he could get himself out or Skinner and his brother showed up.

As several men came out bearing food, Mulder dropped his chin back 
down to his chest and closed his eyes. He heard many comments made 
about him but Wolfe allowed him to detach himself during most of the 
endless meal. No one spoke directly to him and he said not a word. In 
fact, barring an occasional blush or deep breath, he sat as quiet as a 
statue.

Mulder was hoping that as the meal concluded, he would be left alone 
or better still, be allowed to return to his room.

"Now, gentlemen. Shall we repair to the den for cigars? I want you to 
have a chance to get better acquainted with my delightful new pet."

"Are you going to deflower your little virgin tonight, Randy?"

Mulder's head popped up, "No!"

Wolfe stood from the table and walked to stand beside Mulder. "Fox, I 
told you that would not happen. When you give yourself to me, it will 
be quite willingly."

Just as the werewolf turned to address his other guests, Mulder acted. 
The fork came up in a wide arch and imbedded itself in Wolf's 
shoulder. The werewolf roared in pain and shock.

Mulder made a leap to get off the table but in a heartbeat, Sebastian 
was there to catch him as his numb legs folded under him. He fought to 
get free, lashing out at the big man who held him.

The guests, who had all risen from their seats to watch their viscous 
pack mate rip the insolent human to shreds, gapped in shock as Wolfe 
spoke to his servants.

"Good Heavens, bring that unruly little pup to the den. He needs to 
learn his first lesson in proper obedience. I think it might take me 
years to train this wild one properly."

The stunned dinner guests moved toward the den while Mulder was 
pulled, still kicking and fighting, behind them. When he was forced 
through the door, Wolfe had seated himself in a large black leather 
chair, his friends either seated or standing around him. All anxious 
to see what would happen next.

Mulder was pushed to his knees in front of the formidable werewolf. He 
felt large, strong fingers grip his chin as his face was lifted. Cold 
black eyes stared into his but when Wolfe finally spoke, it was not to 
him.

"Sebastian, bring me the leather paddle, I think. It seems our little 
Fox would prefer to show off a red bottom to my admiring friends." 
Mulder tried to jerk his head out of the man's hands but to no avail. 
"Easy now, My Beautiful Fox." The werewolf growled at him, "I am 
amused by your untamed streak but don't push me too far. I can hurt 
you very badly . . . and I will, if need be. My alien friend can 
always heal you later."

Mulder swallowed hard and felt himself being pulled face down over the 
lap of the werewolf, his nose almost touching the expensive wool rug. 
He felt very exposed with his cheeks separated by the tight lengths of 
leather running up between them from the pouch he wore on his 
genitals. He also found that the leather kept him from clinching his 
cheeks. He would have no way to minimize the pain of this paddling. 
His backside was fully opened and waiting.

He saw a dozen highly polished black shoes crowd around. <Bastards!> 
Wouldn't want to miss the show.

"Are you ready, Fox?"

Mulder tried, he really did, but he just couldn't resist. It was out 
of his mouth before he knew what was happening. "Sure, fine, whatever 
. . . You Flea Bitten . . . "

He felt the smooth cool paddle gently laid on his bare backside as the 
werewolf expelled a deep exasperated breath, "Fox, you are the most 
impudent pup I have ever met. Would your Mr. Skinner, by chance, pay 
me a hefty ransom to get you back?"

Mulder looked up with new hope in his wide eyes, "I think you would 
have to pay him but it might not be that much."

Wolfe looked stunned for just a moment and then broke into 
unrestrained laughter, as did the rest of the shocked men in the room. 
They had never seen Wolfe so lenient with anyone. He seemed enchanted 
by the human. Very odd indeed.

"Oh Fox, you are a prize to be treasured. If a very disobedient one."

He watched as Mulder's jaw tightened and his eyes slitted with 
betrayal.

"You didn't really think I would give you up for mere money, did you? 
I have money, My Beautiful Fox, lots of it. But you . . . I have never 
had anything like you before. Now we must get on with your training."

Mulder felt the paddle leave his bottom seconds before it came back 
down with a breathtaking crack. The left side of Mulder's backside 
burst into flames. He had never been punished this harshly. Even 
Skinner, at his most angry and frustrated, had never hit him this 
hard. The paddle landed again before he could draw in air for a good 
hearty yell.

The third stroke visited the same area as the first and Mulder let out 
an agonized cry. By the sixth stroke, he was choking back his tears 
and trying desperately to move his butt to avoid the punishing strokes 
of the paddle. Again and again the pliant leather landed on vulnerable 
bare skin. Wolfe paid close attention to the area where the cheeks 
were pulled apart by the strip of leather. The soft inter slopes of 
the buttocks soon blazed crimson. Mulder was sobbing and crying out 
with each blistering stroke.

Every inch of his bottom felt like it was on fire and Wolfe showed no 
signs of letting up. "Ask me nicely, Little Fox, and I will stop."

Mulder mouth formed a thin hard line. He didn't know what would come 
next and he wasn't anxious to find out. He maintained as much silence 
as possible as the hot tears ran down his face, creating a puddle on 
the plush rug.

After a dozen more breath taking swats, he just couldn't handle the 
pain of it anymore. "Pl . . . please. Stop!"

"Well finally! Recalcitrant Little Pup!" Wolfe ruffled his dark hair 
then nodded at Sebastian to lift the distraught Mulder from his lap.

The agent found himself standing on shaky knees, almost totally 
supported by Sebastian, when Wolfe again pulled on his chin, forcing 
him to meet his eyes.

"You are everything that I thought you would be and more. It will take 
months to train you, My Love." He smiled, "Long, wonderful months."

Wolfe turned to the large man who waited patiently for his orders, 
"Sebastian, take Fox upstairs now. I think he has had enough 
excitement for one night."

The big Cajun breathed a sigh of relief and swung the surprised agent 
up into strong arms. He hurried from the room as the other guests 
voiced their disappointment at the loss of such fascinating 
entertainment.

FBI Headquarters
AD Skinner's Office

Assistant Director Skinner sat behind his desk with his head resting 
in his hands. Two people were with him. One was his brother Bobby the 
other was a madly pacing Special Agent Dana Scully.

"So let me get this straight, Sir. You knew there was a shape shifter 
in the area. You knew you had ordered me to stay here until it was 
safe for you to return with Mulder and yet . . . yet you just allowed 
someone who looked like me to waltz into your cabin and steal my 
partner?"

"I would say that pretty much covers what happened, Agent Scully." 
Bobby felt terrible for his guilt ridden and worried brother but it 
was obvious that the woman was panic stricken. "We'll get him back. 
Wolfe won't kill him right away. He likes to play with his new 
conquests for a while first."

"So he is going to physically and sexually assault my partner. Is that 
supposed to make me feel better, Detective Hardin?"

"Agent Scully . . . Dana . . . " She stopped momentarily to glare at 
Bobby. "Sorry. What I mean is that I have every werewolf in the 
country looking for Mulder. Someone will know where Wolfe has gone to 
ground. He is a powerful man but powerful men have powerful enemies. 
We will find him, I promise you that."

"You had better find him, Detective Hardin, you had just better find 
him quickly." And for one of the few times in his life, Bobby Hardin 
felt real fear.

Dog Tooth Island Randolf Wolfe's Private Den

Mulder sat looking at the man sitting across the desk from him. This 
felt so familiar. He had sat across from AD Skinner countless times 
just waiting for the blistering lecture that was sure to come. Of 
course, usually Mulder got to wear more than the black silk boxers 
that were his only attire. Had been the only clothing allowed him for 
the past three days.

"I want my cloths back."

Wolfe heaved an exasperated sigh. "Then stop trying to escape. There 
is no way off this island. You could die if you go out there 
unprepared. Why do you persist in this private rebellion you have 
going? I am willing to fulfill your every fantasy, Fox. Why are you 
fighting me on this?"

Mulder gritted his teeth, "I want Scully. And Skinner. And my work on 
the X-Files, and my apartment and . . . I WANT TO GET DRESSED!"

"You know Fox, what I once saw as Mr. Skinner's cruelty to you may 
have just been survival techniques. Are you always this much trouble?"

Mulder looked at him with big innocent eyes, "Sometimes I'm more 
trouble."

"More trouble! I don't see how that could be. You put salt in my 
hair!"

"It is common knowledge that if you put salt on a dog's tail, it will 
immobilize him."

"That's a chicken's tail."

"It is not! I have a photographic memory. It is definitely a dog's 
tail."

"Even if it were a dog and not a chicken, which it is not, my head is 
not my tail."

"Well, you didn't have a tail so I thought . . . "

"Are you sure about that, would you like to see my tail?"

"Ew-w-w-w, no!"

"I thought not. Now tell me about the flea powder. Where in hell did 
you get that."

"It was on that little push card that Carla uses when she cleans my 
room."

"So you found insect repellant amongst the cleaning supplies and 
thought it would compliment my wine selection?"

Mulder opened his mouth to comment but Wolfe waved his hand to stop 
him. "Don't even bother. Tell me what that was you thought you were 
making from my imported silk bed sheets?"

"Dog trap."

"You almost broke my leg."

"It malfunctioned. It was supposed to hoist you in the air like a net. 
I saw it once on the Animal Channel. That's how they trap wild boar in 
Africa."

"I am not a boar."

"Well now, I wouldn't be so quick . . . ."

"Enough!"

Wolfe rose and walked to look out his window, his back to Mulder. 
"Fox, I wanted to give you so much. Share my life with you. I wanted 
to do that with gentleness and kindness. Win your affection but you 
give me no choice in the matter. After only one week I am completely 
exasperated. My business is suffering." He sighed heavily, "I have 
Gustav searching your room. He had better not find any lethal weapons 
that you have squirreled away, Fox. Is there anything you want to 
confess to me right now? It will go easier on you if you tell me now."

Mulder felt his mouth go dry. Shit!

Wolfe turned to him, absolute fury in his eye. "Do you want to 
confess?"

"I . . . I . . . don't think that would be wise."

Sebastian knocked softly and entered the room carrying a rather large 
box. He looked sympathetically at Mulder as he set the box in front of 
his employer.

Wolfe reached into the box and pulled out an ice bucket, several 
bottles of bourbon, two bath sponges, what looked like half the silver 
from his kitchen, the silk pull back cords from the drapes in Mulder's 
room and solid brass cigarette case. And Good Lord, gun powder!"

"Fox?"

Mulder eyed the incriminating articles laid out on the desk. He tried 
frantically to come up with some explanation that would not result in 
his immediate death.

"Fox! I'm waiting. What were you going to do with this stuff?"

Uh-h-h-h, well . . . you see . . . ."

"The truth Fox. What were you making with silver forks and silk cord?"

Mulder let out a deep breath, probably his last. "Shrapnel Mine."

"Wh . . . wa . . . wa . . . "

He was doing that Skinner thing again. Mulder just had to ask, "Was 
your mother's maiden name Skinner, by any chance?"

The purple faced werewolf ignored him, "You . . . you were going to 
blow up my home. How?"

Mulder sighed. He hated giving up trade secrets like this. "You take 
the shrapnel, silver in this case you being a werewolf and all." He 
watched as Wolfe rubbed at his still aching shoulder. "That rash still 
bothering you?"

"Never mind my silver rash, Fox. What happens next?"

"Well you pour in the alcohol over the sponges and . . . whoom!"

Wolfe held up the silk cord.

"Fuse."

"And this." The werewolf was holding the cigarette case. "This won't 
burn."

"It has a little lighter in it."

"I see," he held up the container of gun powder. "I'm not really sure 
I want to know but where did you find this. Don't tell me that is how 
Carla cleans the toilets."

"Basement."

"Basement! What basement?" This was like pulling teeth.

"I used that metal toothpick thing in there to jimmy my door open but 
then I couldn't get to an outside door, too many servants around. So I 
went down to the basement and I found a little secret tunnel leading 
out. It was blocked, so I couldn't follow it to it's end but I did 
find that powder. It's pretty old but I think it might still be good. 
There was no way I could test it first."

"I am thankful for small favors. Sebastian, take my attractive young 
friend up to his room. I really need to think about this situation."

Mulder was again restrained to his bed. Wolfe, it seemed, was not 
taking any chances that Mulder would be able to find some other lethal 
cleaning supply or perhaps a deadly personal hygiene product.

The door opened slowly and a dejected looking werewolf came into the 
room. He stood over the bed and sadly surveyed Mulder's nearly naked 
body.

"Do you know that I love you?"

Mulder just stared at him, at a loss for words. Few had ever told him 
that they loved him, especially after spending more than a couple of 
days with him. This werewolf was obviously deranged and necessitated 
close scrutiny. Of course Scully loved him but really, you probably 
shouldn't take your eye off her either.

The werewolf sighed, "But I have a business to run. I can't spend 
every day watching you to make sure you don't destroy my home or for 
that matter, me. Frankly, as beautiful as you are, you are just more 
trouble than you're worth."

Mulder nodded enthusiastically. He had heard this before. Now it gave 
him hope that the werewolf might let him to back to his old life.

Wolfe reached out and pushed the hair out of Mulder's eyes. "I can see 
that you are hopeful that I will send you home. I'm sorry but I can't 
do that. You know my secret. You know what I am."

Mulder felt his heart freeze in his chest. Oh shit!

"So, I have decided to hold an auction. You will be given to the 
highest bidder among a select group of werewolves. Some of them 
actually have the time and patience it would take to train you to be a 
proper pet. And, Lord help them, they had better have good health 
insurance and the financial resources to replace the property you 
damage." With that Wolfe, turned and walked from the room.

FBI Headquarters
AD Skinner's Office

"We finally got a break!" Bobby Hardin burst into his brothers office, 
startling both Scully and Skinner, who where deep into Randolf Wolfe's 
rapidly growing file.

Skinner stood up, "What? What is it?"

Bobby shoved a piece of paper under his brother's nose. "Look at this! 
It is being circulated amount the more financially secure of the 
werewolf population. An auction to dispose of. . . ." Bobby slapped 
the paper with his fingers,

EXOTIC PET / ONE OF A KIND
Beautiful, Intelligent, Entertaining.
DANGEROUS and UNRULY
Truly Unique Training Challenge 
Will Make An Exciting and Sensual Companion
HIGHEST ACCEPTABLE BID

Bobby slapped the paper again. Now tell me that isn't Mulder! 
Beautiful, unruly, a training challenge. That's our boy. I'm sure of 
it!"

Skinner looked up. "I think you're right Bobby. That sounds like 
Mulder all right. He must have driven Wolfe crazy and now he wants to 
get rid of him. What do you think <acceptable bidder> means?"

"It's obvious that Wolfe is looking for another of his own kind to 
take him over. I would say that he wants to make sure whomever gets 
possession doesn't kill him in the first twenty-fours hours. He 
obviously has some feelings for Mulder but has run out of patience."

"I can understand that! There is no telling what Mulder has put the 
man through."

Scully grabbed the paper from her boss' hand. "There is an address 
here. Mulder must be there. We have to go get him. We have to rescue 
him now!"

Bobby looked at the troubled agent, "Slow down Agent Scully. That 
place will be guarded better than a fortress. We need to wait until 
the night of the auction. There will be lots of unusual activity that 
night. I'll take my friend Frank, he took a shine to Mulder and will 
be more than willing to help get him away from Wolfe. No love loss 
between those two."

"I'm going!" Walter Skinner glared at his brother rebelliously .

Bobby sighed, "Walter, this is a werewolf only affair. They would 
smell your human scent a mile away. You would end up getting yourself 
and probably Mulder killed as well. Frank and I will disguise 
ourselves as wealthy Europeans. We'll go in right under Wolfe's nose 
and steal his prize. I promise, we'll get Mulder out of there."

Scully was shaking her head, "I think the AD and I should go in with 
you. We are well trained for this sort of thing."

"Agent Scully. Do you really want Mulder to end up as the favored boy 
toy of some rich Arab werewolf? He didn't strike me as the type who 
would submit meekly. He wouldn't last long in the desert, Scully."

Skinner and Scully looked at each other for a long time and then 
nodded at Bobby. They would handle it his way.

"But Bobby, when he gets back, I have a few words for Special Agent 
Mulder. And I don't want to hear what a smart little shit he is or how 
valuable to the agency. His ass is mine. You got that?"

Bobby looked over to see Scully nodding her head in agreement, cold 
death in her eyes. He did not envy Fox Mulder his welcoming committee 
one bit.

Dog Tooth Island
One Week Later

Mulder was awakened early in the day for the usual bath ritual. He 
didn't even fight it now. Sebastian had never drugged him but he felt 
sure even that big gentle man was running short on patience with him. 
Probably should not have tried that last <I've strangled myself with 
the pillowcase, you have to untie me> thing. Sebastian had not been 
amused.

So Mulder just stood quiet and naked in the middle of his room, while 
Sebastian and Gustav laid out his attire for the evening. Maybe his 
new <owner> would be more lax on his security. And where the hell was 
Scully. Or Skinner and that big bruiser of a brother of his. Jeez! How 
long did it take the mighty FBI to stage a little rescue attempt 
anyway?

"The master has a number of special guests coming this evening, Little 
Fox. The response has been overwhelming. You will not fight me on 
this. You will wear exactly what the master has ordered. Do you 
understand me?"

Mulder got a very unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach as he 
looked around frantically, hoping to see what indignity was in store 
for him.

"Hands to you side, Little Fox. This is necessary. I am sorry, Little 
Fox." Mulder saw him pick up something and rest his foot on a stool 
bending the stunned agent over his leg. He gently inserted a slick 
finger into him. Mulder struggled and hissed but the finger was 
quickly replaced by something bigger and harder. He fought the 
unexpected sensation.

"Little Fox! You will stop that immediately. The plug must be in place 
when you go downstairs. Anything you do to disrupt Mr. Wolfe's plans 
will go very hard on you. Now relax and let me prepare you according 
to my instructions."

Mulder stood up feeling the terrible new discomfort of the hard object 
imbedded in his rectum. Sebastian then made short work of the leather 
pouch that fitted snugly over his genitals.

Sebastian stood back and surveyed his work. He picked up the oil and 
added a little extra to Mulder's chest and finally his lips. The agent 
quickly raised a hand and wiped it across his mouth. Sebastian shook 
his head sadly, "Oh Little Fox, if only you would make this easier on 
yourself."

Mulder felt himself becoming light headed.

"Mr. Mulder, you must control your breathing. Passing out will not 
help this situation." Sebastian waited until Mulder had stopped 
gasping for air.

Gustav moved to assist Sebastian as he finished dressing the 
overwrought Mulder in tight fitting leather pants covered in bright 
silver buttons. The pants were so tight that Mulder was sure they hid 
no secret he might have below the waist. Leather wrist cuffs and a 
silver mesh vest were added to the ensemble. Ah, Mulder thought, slut 
clothes. Sebastian added the hated collar as a finishing touch and 
Mulder was ready for his auction.

"I . . . please . . . I need . . . . I can't go down like this. I . . 
. I can't."

"Oh, but you will, My Love." Mulder turned to see Wolfe standing in 
the door looking at him intently. He felt the blush stain his face and 
cursed himself for his weakness.

"You are very beautiful." Wolfe came forward and ran a hand down the 
agent's chest, "Are you even aware of that, Fox? Or have you been too 
busy sticking that strikingly adorable nose where it did not belong to 
even think about your other assets?"

Wolfe chuckled as Mulder turned his head away from his caressing hand, 
"Well, gentlemen, lets see how this is working, shall we?"

Mulder watched warily from the corner of his eye as the werewolf took 
a small remote control from his pocket and pushed the green button. 
Mulder's eyes popped open as the plug in his backside set up a hum and 
his hips bucked involuntarily.

"Oh Fox, you are so very beautiful like that. There are many speeds 
for me to choose from, Fox. If you're naughty, I'm afraid this can be 
quite painful for you tonight. And he increased the oscillation in 
Mulder's rectum until the young agent was sure his teeth were rattling 
from the vibration. When it finally stopped, Mulder slumped slightly 
and felt Sebastian's arms circle him to keep him on his feet.

Wolfe walked up and ran a finger over Mulder's bottom lip. "Well, I 
think everything is working wonderfully. Sebastian, help our young 
friend pull himself together and bring him downstairs immediately. I 
think he should be there to greet each of our guests as they arrive."

The werewolf turned to leave, "Oh and Fox. Don't make me gag you. That 
would prove to be very uncomfortable for you and you already have 
quiet a lot to endure this evening as it is."

Mulder had been placed in main entryway, sitting on a sturdy round 
table. Kneeling back on his calves, knees spread wide, hands behind 
his back and head down. From this position he had a perfect view of 
his own leather entombed crouch. The invader in his backside becoming 
increasingly more uncomfortable. He was careful to do exactly as he 
had been instructed. He did not want Wolfe touching that remote that 
was in his pocket. Mulder was on pins and needles waiting for pain to 
suddenly erupt in his body.

None of the seemingly endless stream of men who arrived was allowed to 
touch him. Sebastian and Gustav were positioned on either side of him 
to make sure he was left alone. He was grateful for that one small 
reprieve. The crude and anticipatory remarks were enough to make his 
face flame.

When all the guests had been shown into the lavishly decorated 
ballroom. Wolfe stood in front of Mulder, "You are very beautiful, 
Love. Everyone is anxious to meet you." He reached out and raised 
Mulder's chin so their eyes met. "Do not anger me tonight, Fox, or you 
will be thoroughly punished. Most of these people would so much enjoy 
watching you being whipped, it would actually up your price. Do you 
understand?"

Mulder nodded, his throat too dry for words. He was helped from the 
table and given a few minutes to regain the feeling in his legs. Then 
he felt Wolfe's hand in the small of his back and he was being guided 
toward the ballroom.

The minute they entered they were surround by a group of men. One 
short rotund gentleman slapped Randolf on the back as he eyed Mulder 
from head to toe. "He's quite pretty, Randy, but you always did have 
pretty lovers. What makes this one so special?"

Wolfe smiled, then lowered his head and bit the lobe of Mulder's ear 
while sliding his hands around to gently pinch his right nipple. 
Mulder squeezed his eyes shut and blushed furiously. Wolfe chuckled, 
"Still a virgin."

He heard the short man laugh, "Ah, I see. Very charming, indeed."

"And," Wolfe nudged at the remote that he held in his right hand. 
Mulder's twitched and his backside rotated seductively, and 
unwillingly, against the werewolf. "He's brilliant. When you're not 
happily engrossed in teaching him the finer points of lovemaking, you 
can actually have an intelligent conversation with him. To enjoy both 
the body and the mind is a rare pleasure."

Mulder felt the stranger run a hand down his chest. But at this point, 
he really didn't care. All of his attention was being used on the 
vibrations that were sending waves of involuntary pleasure through his 
body.

The evening passed in a haze of shock for Mulder. No one else had been 
allowed to touch him but just being in the room with other men wearing 
tuxedos while he was dressed in tight leather was enough to cause 
frequent mild cases of hyperventilation.

His body trembled constantly and Wolfe used the remote frequently, if 
mildly. Wolfe stayed close by his side the entire evening. At one 
point he found himself surround by men on all sides. He fought down 
another wave of panic.

"Don't we get a better look at him before we have to submit our final 
bids, Randy?" Mulder looked over to see the same rotund man who had 
been allowed to touch him earlier.

Mulder held his breath as he saw Wolfe nod to Sebastian and Gustav. 
The two servants moved quickly to Mulder's side. And before the agent 
knew what was happening there was the sound of snaps letting go and he 
felt cool air on his backside. He looked down in shock to now see 
himself in what now appeared to be leather chaps. The black leather 
standing out in stark contrast to the insides of his white thighs now 
visible all he way to his knees.

He couldn't breathe. He heard someone talking to him but he couldn't 
for the life of him make out what they were saying. Something about 
his work, something mundane and ordinary. They expected him to make 
small talk with them while he stood bare assed in this gathering. He 
felt another good hyperventilation coming on.

Wolfe's Grip bit into his upper arm. "Wake up, Fox. Show my potential 
buyers how charming and witty you are. You don't want me to give them 
a real show with my little remote, do you?"

So Mulder tried to talk to the guests. It all too soon became apparent 
that with his nudity and the threat of the remote, Mulder was just not 
up to small talk. He would often be attempting to concentrate on what 
someone was saying, only to have the vibrator spring to life. He would 
then come back to himself, realizing that the man in front of him had 
been treated to his shuddering body and his face consumed in 
pain/pleasure. It never failed to bring a red stain to his cheeks and 
an appreciative chuckle from his audience.

Then things got worse. The guests, for all intents and purposes, gave 
up trying to converse with the handsome young man and began to talk 
about him instead of to him. Mulder became the center of attention and 
invisible at the same time. This tended to further disconcert his 
senses, giving the gathering a surreal fuzziness in his confused mind.

Mulder felt a hand squeeze his right buttock. He flinched and prepared 
to turn to confront the brash man when a gruff voice hissed in his 
ear. "This is a good look for you, Pretty Punk."

Mulder's breath caught in his throat. Butch/Frank! Bobby Hardin's 
friend from the jail cell. Was the werewolf here with Skinner's 
brother or on his own? Was this a rescue or just Butch's big chance to 
get his hands on Mulder? Eventually Mulder began to breathe again. He 
looked around frantically, in hopes of finding his boss. No one looked 
familiar.

Without warning, he felt himself being led toward a small stage in the 
front of the room. He started pulling at Wolfe's hands. He did not 
want to be punished in front of these men. "No! Stop! I didn't do 
anything!"

"Sh-h-h-h, calm down, Love. I'm not going to punish you, this is about 
pleasure. At least, that is the way you should see it."

He hauled a reluctant Mulder upon the small stage, keeping a firm hand 
around his upper arm.

"Gentlemen," Every eye instantly turned to Wolfe. "Assembled here 
tonight we have some of the wealthiest and most influential alpha 
wolves in the country. Many of you have expressed interest in 
acquiring my new pet."

Mulder sucked in his breath and involuntarily tried to pull back from 
the man who held him captive.

Wolfe easily pulled Mulder back to his side and without missing a beat 
continued, "I have no need for more money," a snicker from the crowd, 
"and I am very found of Fox here. I want him to have a good master. 
Someone with unlimited time, saintly patience and lots of money. So I 
will give all interested parties an opportunity to see just what a 
prize my Fox truly is. And he, in turn, will be allowed to evaluate 
you. The final decision is, of course, mine.

Therefore, I will be bartering one hour of this lovely boys' time. You 
may do whatever you wish with him during the allotted time except 
cause him permanent injury, that will not be tolerated, or compromise 
his virginity. I'm sure his new master will want to have that honor. 
Now if the rules are understood, you may consider your bids and give 
them to my servant who will be passing among you."

"No!" Mulder tried to pull back once more.

Wolfe bent down and hissed in his ear, "Would you like to give them a 
good strapping to watch while they consider their bids? Trust me, they 
would enjoy it tremendously."

Mulder felt the air stick in his lungs. He was panting heavily. Wolfe 
shook him. "They are not going to hurt you. I would not allow that. 
Now calm down. I have to find a good home for you."

Mulder felt the vest being removed from his body. He now wore only the 
wrist bands, leather pouch and chaps. His instinct told him to run but 
he was fearful of Wolfe's strap. He did not want to be publicly 
whipped. Especially in front of such a depraved and anxious crowd.

Mulder watched the crowd closely as several of the gentlemen scribbled 
their <bids> on scraps of paper and gave them to Gustav as he passed 
through the crowd. After about fifteen minutes, all had been collected 
and handed to Randolf Wolfe.

Wolfe chuckled, "Ah Charles, your mistress? If I wanted that much 
trouble, I would keep this gorgeous brat." The crowd roared with 
laughter while Mulder felt himself blush once more.

"Andre, are you still trying to unload that villa of yours. Try 
repairing the roof and coming down on the selling price, dear boy, 
then give my real estate people a call." Everyone chuckled, except 
Andre who looked more than a little disappointed. He had hoped Wolfe 
wasn't familiar with that particular villa.

Suddenly Wolfe's eyes began to scan the room fearfully. Mulder was 
sure that he saw the paper in his hand trembling. Then his eyes locked 
with Butch/Frank, whatever his name was and Mulder held his breath.

"It seems we have a winner, Gentlemen. A confidential agreement 
between myself and Mr. Franklin Farrington III and associate."

Groans of disappointment filled the room as the two large men came 
forth to claim their prize. Mulder tried to pull back but found 
himself being swiftly escorted from the room. They made their way to 
the private salon that had been readied for the occasion. As soon as 
they entered the room, Mulder turned and planted a solid right hook to 
the jaw of the man with Butch/Frank.

The large bearded man growled angrily and grabbed Mulder in a choke 
hold, "If you don't stop taking pot shots at me, I am going to tan 
your hide but good!"

"Bo . . . Bobby?" Mulder choked out. The werewolf let go of his throat 
and pushed him back.

"Yes, it's I. Now come on, we have to get out of here before anyone 
figures out what is really going on."

U.S. Coast Guard Cutter
Two Days Later

Mulder sat on his assigned bunk wondering how many more times he was 
going to try to vomit up his socks. Why hadn't Scully and Skinner 
rescued him by helicopter? Would that really have been too much to 
ask?

He had been brought on board two long days ago. The trek through the 
island jungle at night had been harrowing, especially considering he 
was barefoot and wearing those damned leather chaps. He had more bug 
bites on his ass than Scully had freckles.

And speaking of Scully, she had been so taken with the backless 
leather pants that she had refused to let Mulder throw them overboard. 
If she thought he was ever going to put those things on again, she had 
another think coming.

"So, how are you feeling?" Mulder looked up to see Bobby Hardin 
entering the cabin.

"Like I want to puke what's left of my guts up. Are we there yet?"

"Soon. Another couple of hours. You know those two upstairs are just 
waiting for you to recuperate so they can get their hands on you. Of 
course Frank wants to get his hands on you, too." Bobby chuckled at 
Mulder's horrified look, "Don't worry, I won't let that happen. Can't 
stop my little brother though, I promised him I would step aside."

"Why did you do that? It wasn't my fault that the bounty hunter came 
in looking like Scully. You guys let her in, not me."

"You willingly agreed to leave with her without telling Walter."

"How did he find that out?! That man is amazing, no matter what I do, 
he finds out about it. Does he have me wired or something?"

"Bounty Hunter ratted you out."

"Why?"

"Seems he owed Walt a favor. Something about getting an ice pick back 
from some guy who smokes. Don't ask me, I didn't understand a word he 
said."

"You're lucky. Tell me, what did you offer to trade to Wolfe for that 
hour alone with me? I've been wondering about that for days. I had 
never seen him look so disconcerted."

"Well, we didn't exactly offer him anything. We offered to take 
something away."

"What?"

"An IRS audit."

Skinner could hear his brother and his wayward agent laughing all the 
way on deck. He went down and opened the door to find the two men 
rolling on the floor, tears running down their face.

"Glad to see you two are finally getting along better. How are you 
feeling Mulder?"

"Better now. Your brother is one smart guy, Sir."

"So he tells me on an ongoing basis. Why don't you come up on deck for 
a while, Mulder? We'll be pulling into port in just a couple of hours. 
I think you could use a little fresh air."

Mulder followed his boss upstairs where he leaned heavily on the deck 
rail while Scully rubbed his back and Skinner threatened to blister 
his butt.

It was good to be home.

The End.