| 
  • If you are citizen of an European Union member nation, you may not use this service unless you are at least 16 years old.

  • Whenever you search in PBworks, Dokkio Sidebar (from the makers of PBworks) will run the same search in your Drive, Dropbox, OneDrive, Gmail, and Slack. Now you can find what you're looking for wherever it lives. Try Dokkio Sidebar for free.

View
 

247p3

Page history last edited by nate 13 years, 5 months ago

 

24/7

 

Chapter 5: A Cat Called Wanda

 

 

Mulder woke up the following day to find his usual morning wood fighting against its leather prison. The prison won. Mulder sighed, and rolled over, only to yelp in surprise as his welted buttocks reminded them of their presence. For all that Skinner had avowed himself a sensualist, Mulder was of the opinion, at this moment in time, that his Master had some very definite sadistic tendencies as well. His fingers itched to touch his cock - if this went on much longer he'd have a bad case of blue balls. He glanced at his clock: 8:00. Yesterday Skinner had told him he was to complete his morning swim before waking his Master, but he couldn't very well go swimming wearing this leather chastity device - not unless he wanted to ruin it and somehow he thought Skinner wouldn't be very pleased if he did that. Of course, Skinner had said 5.15 to 5.45, which implied he only wanted Mulder to swim on a weekday before work, not at the weekend, or during vacations.

 

Mulder procrastinated for several minutes, then almost laughed out loud. You're a grown man worrying about whether to go for a swim, he chided, getting up and deciding to use the time to flick through Skinner's paper before waking his Master. Damn! He couldn't even take a shower, wearing this stupid device. Mulder used the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He was aware of the butt plug pressing deep inside his body, but he was becoming used to the sensation of having his body invaded in this way. Of course the one thing he really wanted to have inside him was his Master's delicious cock, but he was beginning to despair of Skinner ever bending him over and taking him. Mulder sighed - he wasn't sure what kind of a game his Master was playing with him, but he knew it was driving him crazy. Mulder paused and took a look in the mirror - his stomach did a flip as he studied the 3 welts on his bottom. It had hurt like hell receiving them, but he loved what they stood for, marking him as they did as his Master's property. Mulder fingered them carefully, closing his eyes and drinking in the sensation of being able to feel the slightly raised flesh, without seeing it. Even in the dark, he was marked as Skinner's slave. If his Master was so minded to reach for him at night, he would find his marks imprinted on Mulder's flesh, like Braille, signaling who this slave belonged to. The idea excited him, which was no good at all in his current caged condition.

 

Mulder wandered downstairs and retrieved the paper, then made himself a cup of coffee, and lay on Skinner's couch reading the sport's section. He kept a careful eye on the clock - he was determined that Skinner wouldn't find fault with his time-keeping this morning. Dead on the dot of 9 a.m., he opened the door to his Master's bedroom, coffee in one hand, newspaper clutched under his arm. He deposited both on the night-stand, then turned his attention to the bed. Skinner was still asleep, and for a moment Mulder felt a pang of regret at the huge empty space next to his Master. Damn, his Master's cock wasn't the only thing he wanted. He also wanted to sleep curled up in the big man's arms, to know that he was there all night, beside him. Instead…instead Skinner shared his bed with her.

 

Mulder glared at the emerald eyed cat who was fixing him with a look of pure hatred, defying him to disturb her cozy love nest with HIS Master. Mulder returned her look with one of such malice he was sure Skinner would have blistered his backside all morning if he'd been awake to see it. Mulder crept noiselessly over to the bed, plucked the sleepy Wanda from her circle of comfort, and threw her out of the bedroom door, ignoring her squawk of protest. He shut the door firmly behind her, and rubbed his hands together, smiling to himself. Then he disappeared under the sheets, and located his Master's beautiful drowsy cock, soon bringing it to a state of full wakefulness.

 

"How did you sleep?" Skinner asked, when Mulder emerged triumphantly several minutes later.

 

"Not bad." Mulder shrugged. Actually he'd slept like a log all night, but he wasn't going to tell Skinner that. "Considering I'm all trussed up with what feels like a stick of dynamite up my ass."

 

"Complaints?" Skinner raised an eyebrow.

 

Mulder looked into those stern dark eyes for a moment, then sighed, and laid his head on Skinner's chest. "No, Master," he mumbled.

 

"Good. Get up, and get your butt over my knee," Skinner told him. Mulder looked up in surprise - Skinner hadn't finished his coffee yet - in fact he'd barely taken a sip. "I want to examine you," Skinner explained, "and I want a surface to rest my newspaper on as well - the Sunday sections are so big aren't they?"

 

Mulder gave him a cool look, but just the idea of being "examined" was enough to make his cock ache, so he gave in, picked up a couple of pillows, and arranged himself over Skinner's lap. He felt his Master's hand gently caress his welted buttocks, and wriggled.

 

"Still!" Skinner ordered. Mulder bit on his lip, and did as he was told, submitting to his Master's thorough attention. Skinner didn't stop until he'd felt every single inch of those welts with his finger - or at least that was what it felt like to Mulder. Then his Master ordered him up, and undid the padlock on his chastity belt, before unbuckling the contraption and removing it. Mulder's cock immediately skyrocketed .

 

"Oh god," Mulder moaned, leaning his head forward and resting it on Skinner's shoulder. "You've got to let me come soon, Master."

 

"No, I don't have to let you come at all." Skinner grinned pushing him off. "Over my lap again, and I'll remove the butt plug." Mulder did as ordered, his heart sinking at his Master's comments about not letting him come at all. He had to! And soon - or Mulder would start climbing the walls. Skinner stripped Mulder of the plug quickly and efficiently, leaving him naked except for his rings. "Stay there." Skinner picked up his paper, and propped it up on Mulder's exposed backside. There was silence for a long time, then Skinner turned a page. Mulder lay there, seething inside. Here he was, stretched out, naked, like an offering, bearing his Master's marks, and all Skinner could do was read for god's sake! He started to fidget and was rewarded by a hard slap on his sore, welted buttocks.

 

"Ow!" He glanced up.

 

"Then stay still. You're going to be like that for an hour or more, so get used to it," Skinner told him.

 

Mulder glared at him. "I am not some kind of newspaper prop!" He snapped.

 

"No, you're my slave - and if one of the uses I want to put you to is propping up my newspaper, that's what I'll do. If I were you, I'd give some serious thought about whether you want to come any time at all in the next year, " Skinner warned ominously. "There's a direct correlation between service and reward in this household, Fox, and the sooner you understand that the better." So saying, he straightened out his paper, and continued reading. Mulder buried his face in the pillow and tried to caress his straining penis by a process of telekinesis. He had whole files on the technique, and was convinced that if he could just think hard enough, he could milk himself to orgasm before Skinner knew what was going on.

 

He was so sunk in this reverie that he jumped in surprise when Skinner broke into it an hour or so later.

 

"Where's Wanda?" He asked.

 

"Um, she went out as I came in." Mulder grinned into his pillow. One up to the slave, one down to the uppity cat.

 

"That's not like Wanda. What time did you get up?" Skinner asked conversationally.

 

"8. There's one thing I meant to ask you, Master." Mulder turned his head, and propped one hand under his chin. "Um, you told me I had to swim in the morning, but I couldn't wearing the, uh, thing." He pointed his head in the direction of the leather cage. "I decided you wouldn't want me to wake you to ask you what to do," he said, feeling sure he'd get some brownie points for that.

 

"Of course not. I intended you to start the swimming when we go back to work - and you don't have to do it on weekends," Skinner told him, taking a sip of coffee. "So - what did you do between 8 and 9?"

 

"Read the paper." Mulder shrugged.

 

"All right." Skinner folded the newspaper, and glanced at his slave. "Fox - I know that you're new to your condition, but I did hope that marking you last night might help focus your mind on your status. I have told you time and again since you arrived, that you'll be rewarded for addressing yourself to my needs, haven't I?"

 

"Yes, Master." Mulder looked confused. "Did I do something wrong?"

 

Skinner flicked his fingers at the floor beside the bed. "In position. Now!" He barked.

 

Mulder scrambled off the bed quickly, still wondering what he'd done. He swiftly got into position, knees open, arms behind his back, shoulders straight, head down.

 

"This morning, you were unsure whether to swim or not. That's fair enough - I didn't make myself clear, and you were right not to wake me. However, didn't you think how pleased I might be if you'd had the initiative to spend your free time ironing my shirts, for example? Or cooking breakfast?"

 

"No, Master. I'm sorry. I didn't think," Mulder muttered, cursing himself for his stupidity.

 

"I said I'd show leniency with you to begin with, but while I might not punish you, I'm hardly likely to reward you for continuing to be so preoccupied with your own needs," Skinner admonished.

 

"Does this mean…that I won't get to come today, Master?" Mulder whispered.

 

Skinner sighed. "Is your own pleasure all you think about?" He asked.

 

Mulder bit on his lip, aware that he'd made another mistake.

 

Skinner reached out and grasped his slave's chin. "Sometimes I think you don't even try," he said.

 

"I'm really sorry, Master. I'll do better in future, I promise," Mulder said contritely.

 

"Very well. Let's see if you do," Skinner told him firmly. "Now, into the shower - I think we'll apply your discipline wet, today."

 

Mulder scurried for the shower, his cock perking up at the very mention of "discipline." Skinner joined him, and turned on the water, then he handed Mulder a bar of soap.

 

"Wash me," he ordered.

 

Mulder jumped to the task eagerly. One of the things that had taken him by surprise in this scenario was how much he enjoyed both looking at, and touching, his Master's beautiful body. In the past, he hadn't given the physical appearance of his tops much thought - they existed merely to serve him, one way or another, mainly by administering the discipline he wanted them to deliver. He was used to sucking other men's cocks, and kneeling at their feet - he enjoyed the completely submissive feeling of being dominated by another man, but he didn't remember actually lusting after one as he did after Skinner. He suspected that his attraction to the big man had always been latent - he remembered many occasions when he had longed to feel Skinner's large arms around him, restraining him. Hell, he'd even engineered that very scenario at work on a couple of occasions, even if he hadn't been honest with himself about his motivation. Of course he'd always kept his other tops at arm's length, and that was impossible in this scenario. Mulder was shocked by how much he was falling under Skinner's spell, and a part of him was shouting to get out, before it was too late. Too late for what though, Mulder had no idea…

 

Mulder felt he more than made up for his earlier thoughtlessness in his attention to his Master's body during that shower. He soaped him thoroughly, delivered loving kisses to Skinner's collar bones, licked the water out of the dipping cleft where they joined, then gently circled each of his Master's nipples with the soap, and washed it off carefully with the spray. Skinner sighed, and leaned against the wall, as Mulder tenderly soaped his genitals, combing his Master's body hair through his fingers, then knelt to soap his legs, kissing his kneecaps, and inner thighs. Skinner's body was pleasing - there was no doubt about it. Mulder had never thought about what constituted an attractive male body before, but he had always been dimly aware that his own long limbs and tall stature attracted a few glances from both men and women. Skinner was a more typically masculine-looking man - his muscles were more clearly defined, and he was heavier, more thickset. Mulder loved the strength in those muscled limbs, and the feel of that smooth honey-toned flesh under his fingers. The trouble was, it was all too easy to worship a Master such as this. It took no effort at all. He finished his task, and was rewarded when Skinner pulled his naked body close and kissed him hard, the water streaming down their faces.

 

"Soap yourself." Skinner ordered, leaning back against the tiled wall, and watching as Mulder quickly and efficiently washed his own body, then turned back to his Master obediently, to await further instructions. "Put your hands against the wall," Skinner told him. "Butt out…more…that's good." Mulder did as instructed, feeling sure that he'd slip over as Skinner kicked his legs apart even further, opening his body up. He watched out of the corner of his eye, as Skinner picked up the soap, then he felt it being dipped into the crease between his buttocks, soaping him there. Skinner's finger slipped easily into his anus, and began moving in and out, over and over again. Mulder gasped, putting his head back, the water dripping continuously from the ends of his wet hair. His cock strained against the cock ring, but he knew it was useless asking for permission to come. Skinner's one finger was joined by another, and Mulder opened up beneath the relentless caress, welcoming them into his body. He pressed his ass back even further, opening himself as wide as he'd ever been, hoping to encourage his Master to take him. Skinner grabbed his hips, and pressed his cock against Mulder's buttocks. It felt hard, rampant, large…big enough to claim him, fill him completely…Mulder groaned, wanting that, wanting Him.

 

"Do you think you're ready to receive me?" Skinner asked in a low, throaty whisper.

 

"Yes, oh god, YES!" Mulder cried.

 

"Not yet." Skinner entered three fingers into Mulder's anus, caressing his prostate in a way that made the slave's cock leap. He finger-fucked Mulder comprehensively for several minutes. All Mulder could think about was those big, strong fingers, consuming him from the inside, making love to his body, claiming him. His mind felt as if it were filled with a blinding white light, and even without being able to come, his body was consumed by wave after wave of nerve-tingling pleasure. Finally, Skinner withdrew his fingers.

 

"Like that?" he growled.

 

"Y…yes, Master," Mulder panted.

 

"Good. Stay there. I think it's time to see to that discipline, don't you?" Skinner's hand rubbed over Mulder's bottom, gently. "Keep your hands against the wall - don't move them," his Master warned. "The penalty for moving them is severe - trust me."

 

"Yes, Master," Mulder moaned, keeping his palms flat on the surface of the tiles. Skinner continued to caress his ass, then without warning dropped a hard slap onto the side of his butt, swiftly followed by another. He avoided the welts, slapping between them, beneath them, or to the side of them, and Mulder's bottom got warmer and warmer. Then Skinner worked down lower, onto his thighs, slapping them soundly. Mulder hated being spanked there, and he half stood up with a yelp, then remembered, and stopped, one hand nearly in the air.

 

"Move it another inch and your ass is toast," Skinner warned, and Mulder placed the offending hand back down flat again, presenting his thighs once more as an easy target to his Master's insistent hand. It hurt, but it was a good hurt, Mulder thought to himself, as the endorphins ran amok through his body, taking him to a blissed-out plane of existence. Skinner's hand was harder now, cracking against his flesh, and Mulder started to sob, the water cascading down the side of his face, mingling with the few tears that were running down his cheeks. Now Skinner's hand slapped lightly against Mulder's welts, sending a sting of pain through Mulder's body that made him shiver, and his cock harden. He struggled to keep his hands on the tiles - he wanted to wriggle and scream and all he could do was hop from foot to foot, moaning incoherently.

 

"Oh god, Master…hurts, hurts…please…" he wept.

 

"Why are you being spanked, slave?" Skinner growled over the sound of the running water.

 

"For…for…not being more thoughtful of your pleasure, Master," Mulder whimpered. "Oh shit…please…oh god…."

 

"And will you resolve to do better in future?"

 

"Yes, Master! Ow! I promise! I promise!" Mulder cried, as Skinner's hand smacked down harder and harder on his red buttocks.

 

"And why else are you being disciplined?" Skinner asked.

 

"For…" Mulder wracked his brains, and then remembered. "Because it pleases you, Master! No other reason…" He panted.

 

"Good." Skinner chuckled. "It does please me, slave, to see your butt turn bright red, and to feel you squirm and wriggle under my hand, to hear you beg and to see how hard you try to obey me by standing in position. Now hold still - let's finish this off properly shall we?" So saying he applied a dozen of the hardest slaps to Mulder's punished backside, and it was all Mulder could do to keep his hands on the wall as those blistering blows rained down on his wet, glowing bottom.

 

Then the slaps grew softer, until they stopped altogether, and Skinner directed a spray of lukewarm water over Mulder's hot butt - if the water had been any colder Mulder was sure that his skin would have sizzled on contact. He leaned his forehead against the tiled wall, then felt Skinner stand close behind him, taking those warmed buttocks between his hands and kneading them softly. Mulder groaned, and gasped but kept in position as ordered. Skinner's fingers dipped casually into his anus as he kneaded, staying for a moment, then withdrawing. Mulder was so used to these intrusions now that he didn't tense up - in fact he pressed back, trying to force his Master's fingers onto that delicious spot inside him that Skinner had found earlier, and which caused him such pleasure. Skinner didn't oblige, the fingers entering and leaving too quickly, like the briefest kiss, leaving Mulder wanting more. His Master kissed the back of his neck as he kneaded, and Mulder could feel the other man's hard cock pressed against his sore buttocks. He wondered whether Skinner would part the warm flesh and enter swiftly inside him, pinning him to the shower wall, but after several minutes of petting, his Master stepped away and told him he could stand up.

 

Mulder's first action was simply to kneel, prostrate at his Master's feet, and kiss them over and over again, while muttering incoherent thanks. Skinner laughed, and allowed him his devotion, then pulled Mulder up, wiped his wet hair back from his face, and kissed his forehead. Mulder leaned limply against his Master's shoulder for a while, caressing the big man's taut, naked buttocks, and then he felt himself being pushed away, and the shower was finally snapped off.

 

"I'm sure we're clean enough by now," Skinner remarked dryly.

 

Mulder eagerly opened the cubicle, and plucked a large towel from the rail, holding it out for his Master as he emerged. He wrapped it around Skinner, and set to work drying him off. "Good. Very good." Skinner smiled. He caught hold of Mulder's face between his hands, and kissed the tip of his nose. "That's the sort of thinking that will earn you rewards, little one," he murmured. Mulder's heart jumped in his chest. There were so many rewards on offer here that he wasn't sure which he wanted most. He wanted to be able to come, to play in that fantasy Playroom, to be used by his Master, and welcome his cock into his body, to sleep in his Master's bed, and then there was also his Master's deep kisses, claiming his mouth with his tongue…the list was endless.

 

"Yes, Master," he whispered, feeling in that moment more a slave than he had done at any point before. He wanted to serve this man, he wanted to wash him, and dry him, and adore him. That was the easy part.

 

"Your attention puts me in mind of something else." Skinner grinned at him. "Dry yourself - then follow me."

 

Mulder did as instructed, and Skinner put on a bathrobe, and walked upstairs to the Playroom. Mulder felt a leap of anticipation as he saw where they were headed - then something occurred to him.

 

"Master, I, uh, haven't had a chance to…use the lube this morning," he murmured.

 

"That's all right, slave." Skinner smiled. "I won't be touching you. Just the opposite in fact." He grinned at Mulder's puzzlement, opened the door, and ushered Mulder into the room in front of him. He took his slave over to a large massage table, and brought out a box of oils from underneath. "I'm feeling stiff this morning - do you have any massage skills?" Skinner asked Mulder, who shook his head wordlessly. "Well, just improvise - we'll see how you get on."

 

Mulder nodded, feeling all too eager to begin smoothing those oils over his Master's naked flesh. While Skinner lay down on the black leather table, Mulder began to warm the oil in his hands, then he placed them tentatively on Skinner's shoulders.

 

"Harder," Skinner ordered, and Mulder set to work, his long fingers swiftly eating up the newly oiled skin beneath them. He probed into areas that felt tight beneath his fingers, doing his best to smooth out any kinks he found, and he was soon completely absorbed in his task. Skinner lay unmoving, and didn't protest when Mulder naughtily slipped his fingers between his Master's butt cheeks.

 

"Would you like to serve me there?" Skinner asked suddenly, making Mulder jump.

 

"Yes, Master," he answered, truthfully.

 

"With your cock?" Skinner demanded.

 

Mulder thought about it. "Yes, Master," he admitted, swallowing hard.

 

Skinner laughed. "Something else to put on your list of rewards to be earned then," he said.

 

"Yes, Master."

 

"Have you ever served a top by giving anal sex, Fox?" Skinner asked.

 

"No, Master." Mulder kissed the back of his Master's knees.

 

"Well, we'll have to correct that - one day," Skinner mused. "For now - you have my permission to worship me there - with your tongue."

 

Mulder had never rimmed anyone, but he had been ordered to, so he gently parted his Master's butt cheeks, and slipped his tongue tentatively inside. Skinner was clean, and smelled of soap and oil, and he soon responded to Mulder's attention by wriggling his butt in a most satisfying way. Mulder relaxed and started to enjoy himself, as he teased that puckered opening with his lips and tongue, pushing inside then pulling back, making his Master sigh. He worshipped his Master in this way for several minutes, enjoying the sensation of bringing such pleasure to the big man, to say nothing of the enjoyment of having those tautly muscled buttocks nestled against his cheeks. Finally Skinner let out a groan, and sat up quickly.

 

"I think," Skinner said, his huge erection pointing sky high, "that I require your urgent services, Fox." Mulder knelt obediently in front of him, and Skinner guided his cock into his slave's waiting mouth, thrusting in and out for only a couple of minutes before coming, his fingers fondling his slave's hair as he sucked.

 

"That's twice before breakfast." Skinner grinned.

 

"I'm very lucky, Master," Mulder replied.

 

Skinner gave a delighted laugh, and caressed the side of his slave's face. "You're doing wonderfully well, Fox. I'm very pleased with you," he said. "If you keep this up, then this afternoon I'll show you some of the delights of the Playroom." Mulder couldn't stop the grin splitting his face in two. "Go and look in the cupboards." Skinner pulled his robe back on. "And bring me the item you'd most like to play with."

 

Mulder scampered over and surveyed the contents of the cupboard like a kid eyeing candy. There was so much, he could hardly decide which to choose!

 

"Having problems, slave?" Skinner came up behind him.

 

"Yes, Master." Mulder bit on his lip. "I was intrigued by the birch you showed me when we first came here, but I'm not sure…I've already been spanked once today," he sighed.

 

"Fox, I can use the birch as punishment, or pleasure. Believe me - if you chose that, I'd make sure it gave you nothing more than the most deliciously nipping kisses," Skinner told him. "What else fascinates you, sweetheart?" He sounded like an indulgent lover, and Mulder looked up at him, with a beaming smile, relishing the moment. "The harness," he said. "I've been tied up before, but I've never been suspended in mid-air. I've always liked the idea of that."

 

"Then that's what you'll have." Skinner kissed him fondly. "Now, I think it's time for brunch. After that, you can spend a few hours doing the laundry. If you finish it all to my satisfaction then we'll play later - and I'll allow you to come." He brushed his fingers over Mulder's cock with a wry smile. Mulder felt a giddy sense of triumph at his Master's words, but they were dashed by his next sentence. "Here - this is a card for someone who'll give you massage tuition." Skinner handed him a piece of paper. "Phone him tomorrow and arrange it please, Fox. I expect you to become fully proficient."

Mulder took the card wordlessly. Hadn't his Master enjoyed his massage? Weren't his efforts good enough?

 

"And just in case the temptation is too much for you…" Skinner pulled another chastity device from the cupboard, and Mulder sighed. This one was smaller, but just as efficient, and Skinner didn't forget the padlock either. Feeling slightly deflated, Mulder returned to his room and left the massage tutor's card on his night-stand, before jogging down the stairs to the kitchen to eat.

 

After a large brunch, Skinner instructed Mulder to clear away, and finish doing the laundry he had begun the previous day.

 

"I'm going out for a couple of hours. Do not succumb to the temptation to go nosing around the apartment," he told his slave in a severe tone. Mulder nodded, feeling faintly aggrieved.

 

"Of course not, Master. I wouldn't dream of it," he answered. Skinner raised an eyebrow, and Mulder flushed. "Well, I won't now you've told me not to," he amended hastily.

 

Skinner grinned, and tousled his hair. "Good. If all that ironing is done by the time I get back, then we'll play," he promised.

 

Mulder nodded, and set about clearing away the brunch dishes with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. Soon Skinner would tie him up with that amazing equipment, do exotic and exquisitely pleasurable things to his naked, helpless body, and allow him to come! Mulder's cock twitched gratefully inside its casing, like a dog panting to be let off the leash. He did wonder where Skinner had gone, but he was too preoccupied to care much. He finished tidying up, and then turned, having the distinct feeling that he was being watched. There, sitting on top of the fridge staring at him, was Wanda.

 

 

"Cats…" Mulder told her, sweeping her down from her perch and depositing her on the floor, "are not allowed to sit on refrigerators. Nor…" he jumped into action as Wanda leapt on top of the kitchen work surface, "...are they allowed on any surface in the kitchen except the floor." He placed her back down by his feet again firmly. "Some of us know a cat's place, madam, and it isn't ruling the roost, like old toppy-toes seems to think. There's a new regime around here, Wanda baby, so you'd better get used to it." He glared at her to ram the point home, and then wandered off to the laundry room, ignoring the baleful look Wanda made at his retreating back.

 

Mulder tackled the laundry with a zeal bordering on the obsessive. He poured every ounce of his energy and sexual frustration into the chore, until he was as steamed up as the iron. Finally, he surveyed the array of smartly pressed shirts with satisfaction.

 

"I'm gonna come!" he proclaimed to nobody in particular, doing a little dance around the room, without a second thought for how bizarre a sight he must look, frolicking naked save for his chastity device, clutching an iron in one hand, and sporting a still glowing red bottom.

 

Mulder hung up some of the shirts, and then ran out of hangers. He laid the rest of the shirts carefully on all the available surfaces, and trotted upstairs to Skinner's bedroom to retrieve some more hangers, then ran back down again, whistling cheerfully to himself as he went. He sauntered into the laundry, and then stopped, his mouth open in dismay. The shirts - those shirts he had laid out, those newly ironed, crisp white shirts were covered in…pawprints.

 

A fleeing blur of cream and gold zoomed past his ankles, and he let out a cry of incoherent rage.

 

"Wanda! I'll damn well kill you!" he roared, torn between chasing after the cat and repairing the damage to the shirts. A cursory inspection revealed that the shirts were beyond help. Each one of them was decorated liberally with Wanda's dainty, delicate pawmarks. They would have to be washed and ironed again. Mulder could have wept. He stood there for a long time, feeling a wave of despairing anger. Every ounce of sexual frustration at being so permanently aroused, and yet denied any release, welled up inside him. He threw the shirts onto the floor and ran up the stairs to his room, pulled out his case, and threw his clothes into it. Then he realized that he didn't have any money, and worse than that, he was still fastened into his chastity belt. He had no choice but to wait until Skinner returned home before leaving. Fine. So be it. Mulder eased his legs into a pair of jeans, pulled on a tee shirt, and then walked back downstairs to sit in the front room, awaiting his Master's, no, make that ex-Master's return.

 

Mulder's mood worsened while he waited. He felt almost limp with the agony of his disappointment and a sensation of total and abject lethargy descended on him. What the hell had possessed him to sign that stupid contract in the first place? He was a grown man, of 37, being treated like nothing more than a…slave - his mind supplied the word for him dryly. Which of course, was exactly what he'd wanted.

 

Mulder buried his face in his hands, struggling with this side of his personality. Just what exactly had driven him to this? He could survive without it, couldn't he? Maybe he could re-negotiate with Skinner, ask his boss to consider taking him as his sub - a nice, easy, twice a week arrangement, that Mulder could end whenever he wanted. No obligation, no restriction, no effort. Just 2 nights a week spent in that fantasy wonderland upstairs.

 

Mulder jumped, startled out of his reverie by the sound of the front door closing, and Skinner walked into the room. His boss was wearing black jeans, a black tee shirt, and a plain black leather jacket. Mulder wished his throat hadn't dried up at the sight of him.

 

"What's this?" Skinner threw his keys down on the table, and glanced at Mulder's clothed body pointedly. "And this?" He nudged the case with his foot.

 

"I'm leaving. I've had enough. This is stupid, we can never make it work. It's crazy to think that you can be my Master, or me your slave. I'm a free man, not some unpaid maid!" Mulder exploded.

 

Skinner looked at him thoughtfully. "Go on," he said, shrugging the jacket off, and hanging it on the back of a chair. Mulder noticed that he had a parcel under one arm.

 

"I don't want to be subject to your every damn whim! I'm used to making my own decisions - hell, I'm a free spirit, Skinner, you know that. I don't respond well to restrictions like these. Damn it! I'm just not very good at following orders! I can't follow them at work - why the hell should it be any different here?" Mulder yelled.

 

"What brought all this on?" Skinner asked calmly, placing the parcel on the table, and pouring himself a glass of water.

 

"It doesn't matter! Don't you hear what I'm telling you? You don't own me, you don't possess me, you can't fucking well decide things for me," Mulder ranted desperately. "This whole situation is absurd. I know it was partly my fault for agreeing to it, and I know I signed that stupid contract, but it's over. You can't keep me here. I don't want to be kept. I need to get out…I need…oh fuck, I don't know what the hell I need!"

 

Skinner finished his water, and waited until Mulder had finished, his face impassive.

 

"Come with me," was all Skinner said, when the tirade was over. Mulder hesitated, hopping from foot to foot nervously, and biting on his lip. Skinner picked up the parcel, and began walking, then stopped, and turned back to Mulder. "It's a request, not an order," Skinner said softly. Mulder swallowed hard, then nodded, and followed the other man along the corridor and into a room he'd never been in before.

 

The room was a small study, with a big desk, and a couple of chairs. There were shelves all around the wall covered in books.

 

"Take a seat." Skinner gestured, placing the package on the desk, and seating himself in the big chair behind it. Mulder felt himself relaxing slightly. This set up - the desks, and chairs, reminded him of their more familiar surroundings at the Hoover building. He could cope with this. He noticed a pile of files on the desk, and nodded at them, braving a more civilized comment to show the other man that his hysteria had calmed.

 

"Bringing your work home, sir. That's dedication."

 

"It is homework, but it isn't anything to do with my job," Skinner waved a hand at the files. "Fox, you've asked my permission to be released from your contract. I'm refusing you that permission," he stated firmly. Mulder looked up, surprised to find that he was feeling simultaneously angry and relieved.

 

"You can't keep me here against my will," he replied mutinously.

 

"No, I can't, but someone else might have done just that," Skinner told him.

 

Mulder frowned. "What do you mean?" He demanded.

 

"I mean that you contracted to sell yourself into sexual slavery to someone you'd never even met. You didn't know it would be me, Fox. You could have been sold to someone who beat you senseless, fucked you, and kept you tied to the bed day and night with no thought for your well being. You arranged a week off work - you didn't know where you would be going, and I'll just bet that you didn't tell anyone else what you were planning on doing. Anything could have happened to you, Fox." Skinner's disapproval was clear, and Mulder shivered. He glanced down at his hands.

 

"This guy, I mean, you, he - you - had a reputation. I felt I'd be safe…" he whispered.

 

"Fox, you're on a mission to self-destruct. You have been since the day I first met you, and you will be until someone pulls you back from the edge. I intend to be that someone." Mulder looked up, surprised. "You're mine, Fox, whether you like it or not," Skinner told him firmly. "That's non-negotiable. I made that very clear to you before you signed that contract - there's no way out for you. However, I want a devoted slave, not a miserable one. If you have any problems with the way I treat you, you can tell me at any time. You have my express permission to do so - in fact, it's an order. I promise I will always listen to what you have to say - and if I don't agree with you I will tell you why. I told you before - your honesty is important to me. Now, I knew we'd have to have this conversation at some point. I'm a little surprised it's so soon, but not unduly concerned. Tell me what's bothering you." He leaned back in his chair, silent, and still, except for one finger that rubbed insistently against his thumb, in an almost hypnotic motion.

 

Mulder hesitated. All his anger and frustration seemed so petty and meaningless when pitted against this calm, eminently reasonable man. All his fury dissipated into nothing, and he felt his body lose its stiffness, and settle into a boneless mass of self loathing.

 

"I don't know where I stand with you," he said in a small voice. "I'm not used to this scenario. I thought you'd fuck me, but you haven't. I don't know what you want from me."

 

"This is all because I haven't stuck my cock up your ass?" Skinner asked in disbelief. "We've done just about every other sexual act, Fox."

 

"I know." Mulder shrugged, feeling two inches small.

 

"Fox. Look at me," Skinner said softly. Mulder raised his head slowly, afraid to meet the other man's eyes, but when he did he found them warm and compelling. "What else?" Skinner asked.

 

"You won't let me come!" Mulder knew it sounded stupid, even to his own ears, but Skinner's expression didn't change. He didn't snort in disbelief, or get up angrily. "I can't stand being constantly on the edge the whole time," he finished lamely.

 

"Is there anything else?" Skinner asked. Mulder bit on his lip, but he'd started, so he might as well go on making things worse.

 

"The massage. I thought you enjoyed it, but then you gave me that card and told me to learn how to do it properly. I wanted to please you," he faltered. "I have tried to please you, but I don't think I can. I'm just going to disappoint you like I did with the massage…oh fuck this!" He yelled, getting up angrily. "Why the hell am I apologizing? Let me just leave and we'll pretend it never happened. I don't need this. I can turn my back on it, bury myself in my work…"

 

"Until the next time." Skinner interrupted softly.

 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Mulder paced the study in a frenzy of emotion.

 

"That you can't bury this side of yourself forever. You try, and you fail. This situation will keep coming back," Skinner told him.

 

"What the hell do you know about it? You're just some fucking sadist. You don't know me, Skinner, and you sure as hell don't own me," Mulder yelled, wondering even as he did so, why he was losing it like this.

 

"Sit down." Skinner told him in a firm tone. Mulder clenched his fists at his side, and waged a silent battle with himself, until he remembered that Skinner had the key to the damn chastity device so unless he wanted to hack around his nether regions with a sharp knife, he had to co-operate. Mulder took a deep breath, and obeyed.

 

"All right." Skinner said softly, leaning back in his chair. "I wasn't going to tell you this, but I will. Fox, these files here, they aren't work, they're you."

 

"What?" Mulder looked at the assembled files in astonishment. "You've been spying on me?" He gasped, his usual knee jerk reaction after years of paranoia on the X Files.

 

"Hear me out." Skinner held up a hand. "I didn't want to take you on, Fox. When you started looking for me a year ago, I did everything I could to avoid you. I knew how difficult it would be at work, and apart from anything else, you do have a reputation on the scene. Let me finish." He glared at the other man as he opened his mouth to protest. "People all said that you were an attractive player, and a good one, you knew what you wanted, and you stated it clearly. There weren't any misunderstandings, and you didn't seem to be carrying around a lot of emotional baggage - although some of the people I spoke to weren't entirely sure on that last point. Everybody spoke of your tendency to want something more than they could offer. They all felt that they'd subtly disappointed you in some way, and the more perceptive ones told me that they thought you were spinning silently, and desperately, out of control. I worried that you would seek ever more extreme thrills, until you got yourself killed in the process. When I spoke to you last week, you confirmed that for me. I went into that first meeting expecting to tell you "no", to get you off my back once and for all without you finding out who I was, but you said something that changed all that for me. I knew I couldn't turn my back on you. I had to help you." Skinner paused, and leaned forward, resting his arms on his desk. "Fox, these files contain interviews with the people you've played with recently. As soon as I took you as my slave, I spoke to all of them, to find out what your fantasies are, and how you respond to various stimuli. From there, I worked out a plan for your training."

 

Mulder sat there with his mouth open, completely stunned. "I can see…" he observed finally, when he'd pulled himself together, "that you are as meticulous in your pleasure as you are in your work."

 

Skinner gave a wry laugh. "You could say that. Fox - why do you think I took you on? What do you think the appeal is to me in this situation?"

 

"Well…" Mulder thought about it. "I don't know. I assume you just like the power trip, the control, the available sexual services…" he trailed off.

 

"I do enjoy it, yes," Skinner mused, "but that wasn't why I got into all this. I'm not sharing all the details of the whys and wherefors at this point in time, but let me tell you this: a good top gets off on bringing pleasure to his sub, or slave, or whoever he's playing with. Not on inflicting pain, per se, or being a control freak, but on making his sub squirm, and tingle, and beg for it to stop, while all the time desperately wanting more. A good top is also safe," he emphasized the word. "Something you don't seem to care about, as you were prepared to sell yourself to a stranger. "

 

"It's not that." Mulder buried his head in his hands. "It's the thrill, sir. I need to be taken away from myself, and the danger of the unknown was so appealing," he sighed.

 

"So, I'm a disappointment." Skinner stated flatly.

 

Mulder's head jerked up. "No, sir. Hardly that. A revelation might be more accurate." He smiled weakly. "You're way out of the league, sir. I've never played with anyone like you. It's been…" he hesitated, then smiled again, "fantastic," he finished.

 

"And yet you want to leave?" Skinner pressed.

 

Mulder hesitated. "It's brought up some old fears," he admitted. "You can tell me to go any time you like, but I can't reject you." He bit on his lip, realizing he'd said the one word that gave his motivation away.

 

"Ah." Skinner smiled. "And you see my refusal to fuck you as a rejection too, don't you?" he said softly. Mulder nodded, gazing at his feet. "Fox, you've only been here for 2 days," Skinner pointed out.

 

"I know. I'm an idiot. You must hate me." Mulder shrugged. "I'm a huge disappointment. No staying power, huh?" He looked up, trying to smile.

 

"That's not true." Skinner shook his head. "Although I think you need someone to make sure you stay, which is why I've insisted on your slavery. I will fuck you though - didn't it ever occur to you that I was preparing you for that? Your previous experiences of anal sex have been painful. I'm not small - if I'd just plunged straight in, you'd have been hurt. Now, it still might be a little uncomfortable, but there's some pain you enjoy, and some that's just too much for you. You told me you didn't ask for anal sex from previous tops because it fell into the latter category."

 

Mulder leaned back, and ran a hand over his eyes. "The butt plugs…they weren't just a kind of humiliation, ownership thing," he murmured, hating himself for having been so dense.

 

"No." Skinner smiled fondly. "It was preparation."

 

"Damn, I'm an idiot." Mulder sighed.

 

"Yes, but you're my idiot." Skinner laughed.

 

Mulder looked up. "You'll keep me?" His heart was in his mouth as he realized just how much he wanted to stay.

 

"Of course," Skinner said firmly. "There's a lot to be done, Fox. Firstly, I'm going to take you all the way down with me. Think of it as diving. I'm going to take you right to the bottom of yourself - your heart, mind and soul, and we'll find out what's there. I'll be holding you all the way, but all the same it might hurt, and it will probably scare you. You'll have moments when you freak out, and want to run, but I won't let you. We'll face you together, then we'll swim back up together, so that you can breathe freely in the air again, liberated from the darkness, and constant pressure. You've given over your life to me - but you haven't yet learned to give up the control. Once you do, you'll find the journey easier. It's not a journey you can escape from though. You're committed to it. I won't let you go until we're done, and that won't be any time soon. Tell me what you think, Fox - tell me, honestly, what do you want?"

 

Skinner's dark eyed gaze transfixed Mulder where he sat.

 

"I…" he closed his eyes, and opened them again, to find Skinner still sitting there, waiting, his gaze never wavering. "I want to stay…Master," he whispered.

 

"Good." Skinner opened up the package on his desk, took out two picture frames, and placed them on his desk. They contained the contracts they had signed. Mulder's eyes flickered over both their signatures. He was so used to seeing them in the same place, on his work reports, but not like this; this was personal, and it felt good. It felt right.

 

"Let's view this as a reaffirmation of our vows." Skinner smiled. "I want you to keep both these on your night-stand. I want them to be the first thing you look at in the morning, and the last thing you look at when you go to bed. The way ahead is hard, but you can trust me to be by your side every step of the way."

 

"Yes, Master." Mulder nodded.

 

"And as for the issue about the massage - Fox I would have told you if I hadn't enjoyed your efforts. Wasn't my reaction evidence enough that I liked what you'd done?" Mulder shrugged, unwilling to cede the point. "Fox - you can't know everything without tuition. Clark Hammond - the man whose card I gave you - taught me massage! It's an important skill. I want you know all about the different oils, and how they can be used to treat different ailments. Your massage this morning was delicious - and Clark will teach you how to be even more skilled."

 

"Oh." Mulder bit on his lip, feeling stupid. It was all so reasonable that he didn't know why he had ever doubted his Master. He hated himself for so nearly screwing up the first thing in his life that had taken him outside himself, and given him some escape. He glanced up at Skinner.

 

"I screwed up," he admitted.

 

His Master shook his head. "Everyone makes mistakes, my slave," he murmured. "I might make a few myself during the course of your slavery. Please feel free to point them out to me if I do."

 

Mulder smiled, wondering if he'd dare. "Um, there's one thing I wanted to know, Master, while you're being so revealing," he said cautiously. "Do you have a camera in my bedroom?"

 

Skinner looked at him with a curious expression on his face. "A camera? Oh, I see!" he laughed out loud. "You're wondering how I knew about the cock ring and you jerking off!" He got up, went over to where his slave was seated, and put a finger under his chin, looking down on his property. "Do you think I need to spy on you?" He asked, in a deep, throaty voice, "when I know you so well?"

 

Mulder's eyes widened. "You guessed?" He asked. "How?"

 

"Fox, I'm not going to give away all my Master secrets to you," Skinner chided, tapping his slave firmly on the nose, "but as this is the first serious discussion we've had since your arrival, I'll give you this one for free. Don't expect any more in future. Before you went to bed I put the idea into your head - by denying you your pleasure, I made sure it was the only thing you could think about. You were new to your slavery - I didn't seriously suspect you to obey me at that point, and I made an educated guess that you wouldn't. In time you'll obey me because you want to, and because wanting to please me is the only thing on your mind. You won't wake up deciding whether to live or die any more, little one. Have you even thought about that since I brought you here?"

 

"No, Master." Mulder admitted, a slight lump welling up in his throat.

 

"Good." Skinner dipped his head and lightly kissed Mulder on the lips. "Now," he stood up straight, his eyes stern, and his demeanor brisk. "We have some issues to deal with."

 

"You're going to punish me for the way I spoke to you earlier." Mulder guessed, feeling his stomach churn anxiously.

 

"Yes, I am. If you'd come to me and talked about your concerns quietly, there would be no question of punishment, but I won't be ranted to. Did you do the tasks I set you earlier?"

 

Mulder's heart sank as he remembered that particular fiasco. "Yes, Master, I did," he murmured, "but then the cat," he spat that last word venomously, "decided to ruin all my hard work."

 

Skinner gazed at him curiously. "Show me," he commanded. Mulder led the way to the laundry room with a heavy heart. Skinner took one look at the ruined washing and shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips.

 

"Dear Wanda," he murmured. "You know, Fox, I don't think she likes you very much." He turned to Mulder, and frowned. "You're overdressed, slave," he commented.

 

"Yes, Master." Mulder scrambled to rid himself of his jeans and tee shirt, then knelt down in front of the other man, his body quivering slightly as he settled himself into the submissive position, wondering what was coming next.

 

"Is this what set off your mood?" Skinner asked. "Do you think I'm so unreasonable that I wouldn't recognize a catastrophe when I see it?" He smirked slightly at his pun, and Mulder sighed. Of all the Masters, in all the world, I have to be owned by one with a warped sense of humor…

 

"I'm sorry, Master. I just kept thinking about the Playroom, and what you'd promised," he explained. "I wanted it so much." Damn, but that sounded so lame.

 

"All right. Let me outline what's going to happen next," Skinner told him sternly. "In a minute, you are going to put these clothes back in the wash, then dry and iron them."

 

Mulder looked up, biting back his anger at being reduced once more to live-in maid. "Yes, Master," he managed to squeeze out from between gritted teeth.

 

Skinner smiled and shook his head, recognizing the effort that had gone into that little display of obedience. "After that, I'm going to take you up to the Playroom," he said.

 

Mulder's face creased into a smile. "Thank you, Master," he whispered, leaning forward to kiss Skinner's shoes, feeling guilty for his earlier petulance.

 

"However," Skinner continued. Mulder's heart did a flip. "This won't be all fun and games. I will use the harness, as you requested, but you're on probation - and I'll only allow you to come if I think you've been good enough. Understood?"

 

"Yes, Master." Mulder nodded, resolving that the other man wouldn't find any fault with him.

 

"In addition, I will use the item you requested for your pleasure, to administer punishment instead. I'll enjoy the irony." Skinner grinned.

 

"Master will birch me?" Mulder felt his cock hardening, as he gazed at the ground.

 

"Yes, Fox, Master will birch you - very hard indeed," Skinner told him in a cool, stern tone.

 

Mulder swallowed hard but he knew he deserved the punishment - even if he was shaking inside at the thought of it.

 

The first thing Mulder did upon being left on his own in the laundry room was to get down on his hands and knees, and check behind the washing machine. He found what he was looking for, dragged her out by the scruff of her neck, and held her up.

 

"All right, missy. You just bought me a whipping," he told Wanda, looking into her baleful green eyes. "So from now on - and watch my lips because I don't want there to be any doubts on the subject - this is war. Understood?" Wanda's tail twitched angrily, and Mulder nodded. "Yeah, you think he belongs to you, but he's mine, lady, so watch out." He opened the laundry door and deposited her on the floor outside, shutting it again with a flourish

 

Mulder spent the afternoon in an agony of anticipation. He longed to experience the joys of the Playroom, but he was growing more and more apprehensive about the birching. It didn't help that he'd never had any experience of that particular mode of punishment before. He didn't know what to expect. He finished his laundry tasks late in the afternoon, and then reported back to Skinner who was sitting at the kitchen table doing some paperwork, with Wanda wrapped around his shoulders, her plush fur enveloping the back of his bald head, like a ruff. Mulder stood there for a moment, examining the pair of them. It couldn't be comfortable for his Master, but Wanda was clearly enjoying herself as her purring could be heard from the other side of the room, and Skinner was gently stroking her tail as he worked, taking care not to dislodge her. Mulder shot his enemy a malicious smile, as he claimed her doting servant's attention away from her.

 

Mulder held his breath as Skinner examined his work, desperately hoping it wouldn't be found wanting. His Master seemed satisfied though, and told him to take a bath, and relax, before reporting to the Playroom. Skinner unlocked the padlock on the chastity device, and pulled it away from Mulder's cock, and then, before his almost inevitable erection could develop, Skinner whisked the gold ring away too. Mulder's cock sprang into immediate life once released from its bonds. "Careful." Skinner slapped it gently. "You don't have my permission to come yet - that has to be earned," he told his slave. Mulder inhaled deeply, a worried frown creasing his forehead."I said relax!" Skinner laughed, kissing his forehead. "Pleasure and pain - you'll taste both, Fox, but not more than you can handle of each."

 

Mulder nodded and scooted for the bathroom, his body starting to tingle in anticipation. When he'd finished, he climbed the stairs to the upper apartment, his stomach flipping inside.

 

The door was ajar when he got there, and he knocked on it. Skinner opened it a few seconds later, and Mulder stood still, transfixed. Skinner had changed into a pair of tight leather pants, and was bare-chested. He looked divine, with his powerful shoulders, and tautly muscled chest. Mulder couldn't wait to kneel at his feet. Skinner ushered him into the playroom, and Mulder noted that the harness was already set up, hanging from several pulleys in the center of the room, directly under the glass ceiling panels.

 

"I thought I told you to relax." Skinner frowned.

 

"I am, Master," Mulder lied, and received a swat on his butt for his deception.

 

"Then why are you shaking?" Skinner wrapped a big arm around Mulder's neck, and drew him close, stilling his trembling with the sheer warmth and reassurance of his body. Finally, Mulder's tremors faded, and Skinner drew back, his expression stern. "Hold our your hands," he ordered. Mulder did as instructed, and Skinner fastened a pair of furry cuffs onto his wrists, repeating the process with his ankles. Then he tied a wide, soft belt around Mulder's midriff.

 

"This will support your back," Skinner told his slave, as he worked. Mulder nodded - the belt was extremely comfortable, as were the cuffs. "Now - go to the cupboard and bring me the birch," Skinner commanded. Mulder swallowed hard, and did as he was told, picking up the instrument of punishment almost reverently, and carrying it back to where his Master stood, adjusting the hoist for the harness. Mulder kneeled at Skinner's feet in the submissive pose, eyes down, hands holding out the birch, his whole body a mass of wildly conflicting emotions. Anticipation warred with fear, which in turn threatened to be swamped by excitement, and arousal.

 

When Skinner was satisfied with his work, he turned back to his slave, but instead of taking the birch from him, he put a finger under Mulder's chin and pulled his face up to look him in the eye. Mulder shivered - Skinner's expression was stern, and determined.

 

"This will be a proper punishment birching, Fox," he told his kneeling slave.

 

Mulder swallowed, and nodded. "Yes, Master, I understand," he managed to croak.

 

"Punishment should teach a lesson - I want you to think about the lesson you should learn from this birching," Skinner informed him. "When I punish you, I want the reason for your suffering to be uppermost in your mind."

 

"Yes, Master," Mulder said, starting to tremble again.

 

Skinner stroked his hair, softly, soothing him. "It will be hard, little one, but you'll survive."

 

Mulder closed his eyes, and nodded, pinpricks of sweat breaking out on his body. Skinner took the birch from his hands, and laid it on a table to one side. "On your feet," he ordered, and Mulder scrambled to obey.

 

Skinner fastened Mulder's cuffs and belt onto the harness, and tested each link firmly, to make sure they were secure. When he was satisfied, he paused to give his slave a brief kiss of reassurance, before swinging a startled Mulder into mid-air. Mulder gave a squawk of surprise, then surrendered to the sensation. It was actually very comfortable - his body was supported, and he felt as if he were flying. He was suspended on his front, at waist height.

 

"I won't ever leave the room while you're in bondage," Skinner told him. "If you feel any distress, tell me. Immediately. It's important. Understood?"

 

Mulder nodded quickly, then held his breath as Skinner picked up the birch. Mulder tensed, but all Skinner did was run the bound twigs over his back, then through Mulder's open thighs, and over his cock and balls, before continuing down his legs. Mulder lost sight of his Master briefly, then he reappeared, brushing the birch twigs along the side of Mulder's torso. It was a light, scratchy feeling, but it didn't hurt. Skinner stopped in front of the bound man, and looked down on him.

 

"I think you should watch yourself being punished," he said, propping up a large, gilt-edged mirror on the 'throne' opposite Mulder's hanging body. Mulder looked at himself, soaring through the air like a bird, suspended on the harness. There was a curious kind of beauty in his bondage, Mulder thought. It gave him a chill of arousal to see himself trussed up like this, immobilized, at the mercy of his stern owner. He saw himself as Skinner saw him: a bound, naked man awaiting his Master's attention.

 

Skinner returned to his side, and continued brushing the birch along Mulder's naked limbs, scratching it lightly under his chest, and over his nipples, making Mulder gasp. Then the stroking stopped, and the birch connected lightly with his bottom. It didn't hurt - in fact it created a delicious nipping sensation over his skin. Mulder sighed. The birch connected again, up and down his buttocks and thighs, over his shoulders, and down to his feet. Mulder could see now why Skinner had told him that he could make the birch an instrument of pleasure. This light tickling was sensuous and erotic.

 

Without warning the pressure of the licks got harder. Now the twigs descended with greater speed and force on his naked flesh, making him gasp and cry out. Skinner ignored his wriggling, and continued to swing the birch down, confining his attention mainly to Mulder's exposed bottom, but occasionally applying it elsewhere, keeping Mulder on edge, not knowing where it would land next. The combined force of the twigs as they striped his bare backside made Mulder suddenly appreciate Skinner's warning that this was a punishment.

 

"It stings, Master!" He gasped.

 

"Yes, slave, it does." Skinner replied, applying the birch with more force. Mulder began to sob now, moving his body in the harness, desperate to escape the instrument of torture that he was sure was flailing the skin from his bones.

 

"Please, Master…it hurts…ow!…it hurts…" he whimpered desperately.

 

"It's a punishment, Fox - it will hurt even more before I'm through," Skinner informed him tersely. "Now, have you thought about the lesson you're being taught here?"

 

"No! Yes…I…ow!" Mulder panted.

 

"Well?" Skinner pressed.

 

"It's difficult to talk, Master, when you're…oh fuck!" Mulder yelped as the birch landed on his shoulders, and then again on his thighs, before returning to his already sore buttocks.

 

"I'm waiting." Skinner delivered another hard stripe on Mulder's bottom, wringing a sob from the helpless man. "What lesson will you learn from your punishment?" Skinner insisted, in a calm, inexorable tone.

 

Mulder knew the torture wouldn't stop until he came up with a satisfactory answer. "To…not to try and leave!" He gasped.

 

"No." Skinner slapped down a particularly hard stroke. "That's not what you're being taught here. Try again."

 

Mulder wracked his brain, trying desperately to think of the right answer. He watched himself being punished in the mirror, his tall, strong, ruthlessly efficient Master reducing him to a quivering, helpless morass of sensation. He felt his cock harden at the raw, sweaty beauty of the scene.

 

"Lesson…I'm thinking…ow! I said I'm thinking!" Mulder yelped as the birch bit into his flesh with a savage caress.

 

"Think faster," Skinner instructed. "It's not a very hard lesson, Fox, although I have a feeling it'll take more than this one punishment to drum it home."

 

Mulder thought back over the day's events and they all kaleidoscoped together in his mind, creating a series of jumbled images. He saw himself ironing, saw Wanda glowering at him from the fridge, saw himself seated in his jeans and tee shirt on the couch, mouthing off at his Master.

 

"I mustn't be disrespectful to you!" He gasped, pleased with himself. "I won't swear at you again, or throw a tantrum like I did today…I promise…aarrrgghhhh!" He screamed as the birch descended once more, with full force on his upturned, waiting buttocks.

 

"It would be nice if you could manage that," Skinner chuckled, "but I'm not exactly going to hold my breath. It's also not the lesson I want you to learn from this birching. Try again."

 

"I can't…Master, please!" Mulder begged, feeling sure he'd reached his limit, wanting only for the punishment to stop for just one second so that he could think but the birch continued its vicious work, unrelenting, and unyielding. Mulder remembered sitting in Skinner's small study, and hearing his Master talk about diving, or something…he felt like he was diving now, suspended here like this. Then Skinner had told him that…

 

"I have to talk to you, Master! I have to tell you what I'm thinking and feeling, especially when I'm upset. I have to be honest with you!" he cried out.

 

The nightmare stopped, and Mulder hung in mid-air, the sweat pouring off his body. Then Skinner was cradling his face between his hands, looking deep into Mulder's eyes.

 

"Good, well done, Fox," Skinner told him, kissing his forehead, then his lips, before softly nuzzling his hair. "You did well. I'm so proud of you, little one."

 

He continued whispering praise and endearments, until Mulder stopped panting, and became bathed in a glow of warmth. The endorphin high hit him, and he felt the dual joys of being made to endure hard physical punishment while being suspended like this in mid-air. It made the dreamy sensation of floating away that he always got from the endorphin rush all the more real and satisfying.

 

"Thank you, Master…thank you…" he babbled incoherently.

 

"For what?" Skinner asked, in an amused tone.

 

"For making me…go further than I thought I could…" Mulder sighed.

 

Skinner grinned, and smoothed Mulder's hair. "I'll take you further yet, little one," he promised in a deep, sexy growl. Mulder closed his eyes and savored the words, the intent going straight to his cock.

 

Skinner disappeared out of his field of vision, then returned a few seconds later with a cold, damp washcloth. He ran it gently over Mulder's hot skin, cooling the fevered flesh, pausing to lick at the light marks created by the birch, which were already fading.

 

"Now - I'm going to play with you," Skinner promised. "I'm going to take my pleasure from you slowly, little one, and you are going to submit to everything I want to do to you. At the end, if I'm satisfied, you can come - but not before. Come before I tell you, and I'll get my crop out of the cupboard and add to those welts that I gave you yesterday. Understand?"

 

Mulder nodded weakly, willing his rampant cock to calm down, and wait until it had permission to explode. Skinner adjusted Mulder's position, turning him onto his back, and reattaching him, checking the links to make sure his slave was secure.

 

"Comfortable?" he asked.

 

"Yes, Master." Mulder nodded, throwing his head back and gazing out of the window above him. It was starting to get dark, and the sky was a deep blue color. A flock of birds flew into his field of vision, turned, en masse, and disappeared again. This felt…so damn good!

 

Skinner brought over a small box of objects which Mulder craned his head to try and get a good look at. Skinner tapped his nose reprovingly.

 

"You'll soon become intimately acquainted with them, believe me," he chuckled.

 

He fastened Mulder's legs so that they were open wide, then stood between his outstretched thighs. Without warning, he entered one lubed finger into Mulder's ass. Mulder gasped, taken by surprise, then gasped again, as Skinner's hand stroked his thigh, feeling something soft, warm, soothing - fur. A glance down confirmed that Skinner was wearing a glove. His Master stroked him with that smooth, furry hand, while he continued to probe inside his prone slave's body with his finger, adding another, then a third, finding Mulder's prostate, making the captive man writhe in pleasure from both sensations.

 

"Ah, you like being stroked…like a cat…" Skinner murmured, running the glove up Mulder's chest, and down the side of his neck. Mulder moaned, and nuzzled into the embrace. Skinner continued with these dual caresses for several minutes, until Mulder thought he'd end up purring like a cat too. Then he jumped, startled, as a hot object landed on his thigh. He glanced down and saw the dildo resting on his skin.

 

"It’s filled with warm water," Skinner told him, parting the captive man's buttocks and sliding the slender dildo between his open cheeks. Mulder tensed, but it was a curiously comforting sensation, warming him inside. He relaxed, and Skinner moved the dildo within his body, sliding it back and forth up the lubed passage. Then he removed it, and Mulder let out a startled yelp as a cold object was placed on his thigh.

 

"Ice-water." Skinner grinned evilly.

 

"No…" Mulder twisted, but Skinner parted his buttocks and smoothly pushed the cold, lubed object into Mulder's waiting body. "Fuck!" Mulder wriggled, and squirmed but couldn't dislodge the freezing intruder. It wasn't big, and it didn't hurt, it was just so damn cold.

 

Skinner stoked his thigh again, fondling him until he quieted, then he teased the dildo in and out, making Mulder gasp with every cold lunge. The cold dildo was replaced once more by the warm one, and he relaxed again. Skinner alternated the two dildos for several long minutes, making Mulder alternately writhe, and bliss out. The bound man was aware of his cock growing harder and he groaned, wanting desperately to come. Skinner removed the cold dildo one final time, and took the tip of Mulder's cock between his thumb and forefinger, pinching firmly.

 

"Not yet," he ordered.

 

Mulder sighed. "Soon, Master, please…" he begged.

 

"Maybe," Skinner smiled, and began running his hands over Mulder's prone body. "It feels good having you here, helpless, at my mercy," he whispered, bending his head, and taking one of Mulder's nipples in his mouth. It was the first time Skinner had sucked him there, and Mulder nearly shot through the roof, as his nerve endings, sensitized by the birching and anal play, jangled and screeched in arousal.

 

"Hmmm, someone likes being sucked here." Skinner disengaged with a grin. "That's good - I'm glad these are such erogenous zones for you, slave, it'll make it doubly satisfying to pierce them." He pinched both nipples at the same time, jack-knifing Mulder's body into the air.

 

"Yes, Master." Mulder panted, trying desperately to stop himself coming.

 

"Time for a change of scenery, I think." Skinner flipped Mulder onto his front again, and arranged him into a kneeling position, tightening parts of the harness in places, so that Mulder's butt was completely exposed, his legs fastened wide apart, stretching his anus open, and displaying his most secret body parts to the world. "Look between your legs," Skinner commanded, and Mulder did as he was told, to see himself reflected back, the image in the mirror dominated by his ass, which was just about the only part of himself he could see from this position. He was completely exposed, and without dignity, just a butt floating in mid-air.

 

A movement distracted his attention, and he looked up to see Skinner unbuttoning his leather pants in front of him. He watched transfixed, as Skinner slid the leather down his long limbs, to reveal that he wasn't wearing any underwear. His large cock immediately stood up straight, thick and arousing. Mulder made a small whimpering sound as he surveyed the lean, powerful body of his nude Master.

 

Skinner stood in front of him, lifted Mulder's head to his chest and directed him to suck his nipples. Mulder enjoyed having the big man's arms enfolded around him as he worked, tickling the small nubs of flesh with his tongue, and scraping them gently with his teeth. He must have done something right, as his Master sighed, and leaned into the embrace, enjoying himself for several minutes, before he pushed Mulder away, moved down to his slave's buttocks, grasped them in his big hands, and rubbed his erect cock against them.

 

"Please, Master…" Mulder pushed back onto that cock, wanting to feel it inside him, to be taken in this most helpless and submissive of positions, overwhelmed, and completely dominated by the other man. Skinner just teased him, rubbing himself along Mulder's crease, but not entering.

 

"Do you want me, slave?" Skinner asked.

 

"Yes, Master…please, please…" Mulder begged.

 

"Not yet!" Skinner laughed, slapping his butt. Mulder felt his whole body go limp in despair at the constant wanting, and being denied. "I will take you, slave," Skinner continued in a low, sexy tone, "and I'll use you hard, and fast, but first I want you to think about how you can serve me. I'm going to leave you hanging here, your ass in the air, with this little beauty…" his finger circled Mulder's opening, "exposed and waiting. I want you to focus all your thoughts here, knowing that the only way you can serve me while you're in bondage, is with this…" His finger thrust into Mulder's body, sending a wave of pleasure through the prone man's body. "When I come back, I'll use you well. Until then, I want you to think of me entering you, of how it'll feel to serve me with this part of yourself, and of how you're going to welcome me and worship me here."

 

Skinner withdrew his finger, and Mulder heard him walk away. He relaxed into his bonds, and tried to do as he'd been instructed. It wasn't hard. His backside was so exposed that it was all he could think about - that and the fact that Skinner was going to put him out of his misery and take him. It made his cock ache with desire.

 

He wasn't sure how much time passed with him hanging there in that agony of longing, but finally he heard Skinner return. The big man trailed a line of kisses up Mulder's body, finally ending up at Mulder's head.

 

"I have a little task for you, Fox," Skinner said, nuzzling his erect cock against the side of Mulder's cheek. "I want you to put the condom on for me."

 

"How, Master?" Mulder blinked, looking at the unwrapped condom Skinner was holding, and his own tied, outstretched arms.

 

"With your lips, Fox, how else?" Skinner grinned, opening his slave's mouth with his finger, and placing the condom on his tongue. Mulder did his best, but the condom ended up as a soggy heap on the floor. "Hmm, try again." Skinner opened another one, and placed that in his slave's waiting mouth. Mulder tried once more to apply it to his Master's magnificent, erect cock. He did a little better this time, and Skinner helped him by guiding the condom into place with his fingers. "I can see that you're going to have to practice this. I want you to become fully proficient," Skinner ordered. "I'm going to give you a dildo and pack of condoms to take to your room - you can practice it until you can do it blindfolded - which you're very likely to be asked to do at some point," he chuckled.

 

He returned to Mulder's buttocks, patting them, and kneading the sore flesh with his hands, sending dizzy waves of pleasure/pain straight into Mulder's cock. Mulder felt Skinner's tongue on his spine, then lower, lapping at his buttocks, before they were parted and he felt the tip of his Master's cock nestle into his anus.

 

"Do you want more?" Skinner asked, and Mulder nodded, and tried to thrust back. "Slowly, I want to fill you inch, by slow inch, to claim you, and possess you, to make you mine," his Master told him in a low, silky voice. Mulder shivered, and tried not to tense up, as Skinner continued pushing steadily forward. Now he dimly appreciated why his Master had taken such trouble to prepare him. He felt stretched almost to capacity, his body trembling with the strain of taking his Master's large cock within the small ring of anal muscle. Skinner's slow progress was a kind of infinite agony, pushing him open, claiming him with that hard thickness, plunging deeper and deeper as if aiming for Mulder's very soul. Finally, it stopped, and Mulder could feel the warmth of his Master's body against his buttocks. He blinked several times, trying to adjust to the intrusion, to relax his aching muscles around it.

 

"How does that feel?" Skinner asked, and Mulder felt the other man's hands soothing his back.

 

"Good…" Mulder panted, "hurts a bit…but good."

 

"Your body will soon learn to accommodate me," Skinner murmured, stroking Mulder gently, not moving inside him. "I'll use you like this frequently - probably at least once a day, so the sooner you become accustomed to the feel of me inside you, the better." He adjusted his position, and Mulder grunted, gasping slightly as his body made sense of the new sensation. "You feel good, warm and tight - like a glove," Skinner said, continuing to stroke Mulder's buttocks and back softly. "I won't always take such care to arouse you though, slave. At times I'll expect you to serve me without any expectation of pleasure in return. I want you to think of a word…" Skinner moved slowly, steadily, back, the pressure inside Mulder's body decreasing as his Master's large cock withdrew to the tip, then slowly surged back in again. Skinner rocked against Mulder's helpless body, stretching him with his sheer size, and Mulder hung there, his eyes closed, consumed by the moment. "You can choose any word you like," Skinner continued, easing himself in and out again. "When I say that word, wherever we are, I want you to stop what you're doing, take down your pants, and without argument, or protest, either bend over the nearest surface, or get on your hands and knees, and present yourself for my use. There won't be any foreplay…" Mulder moaned, as his Master played skillfully with the erotic possibilities of his submission, creating a scenario in his mind's eye, of surrendering his will to his owner. "I'll use you, like the slave you are, and it'll be a hard, rough fuck." Skinner illustrated the point by thrusting his hips forward, pushing deep into Mulder's body, making him cry out, his body protesting the pain and welcoming the pleasure at one and the same time.

 

Mulder felt that slick cock pick up rhythm inside him, thrusting in and out, getting faster, sliding into what felt like the very depths of his bowels, and then back out again. He was lost in sea of eroticism. Skinner's voice, outlining his ultimate submissive fantasy was arousing his mind, while his body was being aroused by his Master's skilful hands stroking him, and that hard cock deep inside him, filling him, and brushing against his prostate, sending waves of pleasure/pain coursing through his body. Mulder loved the fact that Skinner was standing while he used him, that Mulder was situated at just the right height to devour his Master's cock deep inside his body. Mulder's own cock was leaking badly, hopelessly aroused by his plight. Skinner's voice seemed to seep into his soul, connecting with his darkest submissive fantasies, and igniting them.

 

"You're my property, mine to possess, and take, whenever I like…don't forget that," Skinner stated, thrusting hard and fast.

 

"I won't, Master…" Mulder moaned, arching his back. Skinner leaned forward, and Mulder felt himself covered by the big man's warm body, as it plunged back and forth into him.

 

"You feel so good, my dear, sweet, little slaveboy," Skinner growled, his teeth nipping Mulder's skin, his hands solid and reassuring as they petted him. "What's your word, Fox? Tell me the word to say whenever I wish to use you, to remind you what you are, and who you belong to." Skinner's thrusting reached a crescendo, and Mulder felt as if he'd blank out in a haze of sensation.

 

"Can I choose any word, Master?" He asked, the sweat dripping into his eyes, blinding him.

 

"Yes - whatever word you want."

 

Picking a word was the last thing on Mulder's mind, but he screamed the first thing that came into his head: "Wanda!"

 

He felt Skinner shudder to orgasm inside him, his body convulsing within Mulder's willing, waiting, wilting flesh. There was silence for a long moment, as Skinner lay panting against Mulder's back, his climax over. Mulder enjoyed the sensation of his Master softening inside him, holding him close, connected. After several silent minutes, the other man pulled out, and Mulder's anal muscles contracted gratefully. He felt sore, but utterly satisfied.

 

He watched Skinner dispose of the used condom, then his Master returned, and flipped him over onto his back.

 

"Wanda?" Skinner raised an eyebrow.

 

"Sorry, Master. It was the first thing that sprang to mind," Mulder replied with a cheeky grin. It was revenge, of sorts.

 

"Hmmm." Skinner eyed him suspiciously.

 

"Well, you did say I could have any word," Mulder added with a butter wouldn't melt expression.

 

Skinner gave a gruff laugh, and patted his slave's body affectionately. "Yes, Fox, I did, and you can. Wanda it is. Remember your choice - when I use it, I expect your response to be immediate, or I can promise you a long, hard retribution."

 

"Have I been good, Master?" Mulder asked him hopefully, painfully aware of his hard cock.

 

"Yes, little one, you've been more than good. You've been excellent." Skinner kissed him lovingly. "And for that - I'll let you come. Just wait a bit longer, until I give the word." He slathered his hand in lube, then grasped Mulder's cock firmly in his hand. Mulder let out a cry, and would have jumped six feet in the air if he had been able to. "Close your eyes," Skinner whispered, and Mulder did as commanded. He felt Skinner blowing softly onto his bare, sensitized skin, and shivered, thinking he would expire soon from an overdose of sensation.

 

"Do you like poetry, Fox?" Skinner asked, continuing to blow on his slave's naked body.

 

"What?" Mulder's opened his eyes in surprise.

 

"Close them." Skinner said, with a chuckle. "As you haven't read the classic novels, I'm also going to assume that you haven't read much erotic poetry either. I'm going to recite one of my favorites to you - close your eyes, and let yourself go. Let me bring you to climax, then wait until I say you can come. When you do, it'll be a moment you remember for the rest of your life."

 

Mulder opened his mouth to say something, but Skinner closed it with his index finger.

 

"Not a word!" He recited softly.

 

"The eyes speak in rivers,

 

the fingers in trees.

 

The body has a language all its own:The body has a language all its own:

 

this time we will send the interpreter home."this time we will send the interpreter home."

 

Mulder closed his eyes, wondering whether this could get any more surreal. First that exotic, masterfully delivered punishment, then the hot and cold play, before being fucked by his Master, in that slow, pounding way, his mind being made love to along with his body, and now poetry! Shit, Skinner wasn't just in another league, he was on a different planet. All that time spent looking for extra terrestrials and there was one right under my nose…Typical!

 

"I will open you

 

petal by petal

 

taking all the time in the world."

 

Mulder felt Skinner's warm, wet mouth descend on his nipples, and circle each one lazily. It felt almost comical, to be lying here suspended in space, while his Master recited poetry to him, and yet he didn't feel like giggling. His body was being caressed by an expert, and that rich, dark voice both soothed and aroused him - one more erotic weapon in the wide-ranging sensual armory his Master possessed.

 

"I will build with you a slow fire

 

stick by stick

 

and watch the color of your sunrise."

 

Skinner took Mulder's hard cock in his lubed hand, and milked it in a slick caress. Mulder teetered on the brink, holding on by the skin of his teeth.

 

"I will play with the wind of you,

 

cover your body with smiles and games,

 

promises and fantasies that disappear

 

without a trace."

 

Skinner's warm breath tickled his inner thigh, blowing across his balls, down to his feet, and back up again.

 

"I will stir your secret core,

 

witch's brew of potions and incantations,

 

and fell you simmering, rolling,

 

floating in my hand."

 

Mulder writhed, as Skinner's caress on his cock became harder and more insistent. He was floating, both literally and figuratively, suspended in mid-air, and drifting away on a haze of endorphins and sensation, which he had never experienced before in his entire life.

 

"I will fill you slowly up,

 

every crevice and curve,

 

watch feel hear smell taste you

 

growing full."

 

Skinner nibbled along Mulder's navel, and up his neck, sucking his nipples again, making Mulder scream out loud.

 

"And when every part of you is one,

 

when you are saturated, suspended,

 

water trembling over the brim,

 

I will ride with you over the falls

 

drown with you

 

disappear all boundaries

 

tumble over and over

 

and over and over

 

until there is only the spinning dizzy

 

dance beyond dancing

 

and the great wave crashing to bits

 

everything, leaving us

 

strewn with the seaweed

 

in the sand and the sun

 

to dry."

 

Skinner finished the poem, his slick hand reaching a crescendo as it pumped Mulder's cock.

 

"Any time you want, Fox," he whispered, his mouth descending on Mulder's, opening his lips and claiming a deep, powerful kiss. Mulder surrendered, his body giving in as he came in wave after wave of explosive orgasm. The sexual frustration of the past few days was swept aside as he came harder than he had ever done in his life before. He was dimly aware that it had been worth the wait, before a blinding white light flashed through his mind, overwhelming him, and causing him to black out for a second. When he came to, Skinner was washing him down with a damp cloth.

 

"That was impressive," his Master said, gesturing to the cloth. "All right, little one?" His tone was kind and concerned. Mulder managed a weak nod in reply. "Good, I'm going to untie you. Hold on." Skinner gently lowered him, then knelt down beside him and undid his cuffs. When he'd finished, Mulder slumped onto the floor, utterly and completely exhausted. Skinner chuckled, swung his slave up into his arms, and carried him over to the cushions that were piled up on the carpeted side of the room. He deposited the sated man on them, then sat down beside him, and gathered his slave up in his arms. Mulder lay with his head on his Master's lap, completely unable to move. His whole body seemed to have turned into liquid.

 

"Thank you, Master," he croaked, the sound of his own voice surprising him.

 

"You're welcome, slave." Skinner ran his large, blunt fingers through Mulder's damp hair.

 

Mulder studied his Master, committing to memory the face of the man who could reduce him to this boneless heap, taking in the dark eyes, and the sweep of wide jaw, the broad expanse of naked scalp, and the strong neck and shoulders.

 

"Permission to fall in love with you, Master," he murmured.

 

Skinner smiled, and smoothed Mulder's dark hair away from his eyes. "Permission granted, Fox," he said softly.

 

 

24/7:Next Chapter

Comments (0)

You don't have permission to comment on this page.