Title: "It's about Trust"

Fandom: X-Files

Pairing: Skinner/Mulder

Author/pseudonym: Alexis Rogers

Rating: *bdsm*/kink

Date: 22 October 2000

It's About Trust
An X-Files Skinner/Mulder story by Alexis Rogers
22 October 2000

Mulder knelt on the floor in his living room, then leaned forward until his forehead touched the floor. No matter how hard he tried to banish the ugly images in his head, they refused to go away. If Skinner chose this night not to show up, Mulder feared he might fall into a pit of blackness from which he could not escape.

There had been other times when Skinner did not appear. He had never offered an explanation and Mulder had to live with that and respect it or never see Skinner again. He needed Skinner; needed this.

When he needed Skinner, Mulder placed a strip of black leather in an inter-departmental memo envelope and had it delivered to Skinner's office. When Skinner set up the meeting, usually because he wanted to punish Mulder, he would find the same type of envelope in his "In" box. Sometimes there would be a typed list of instructions. Other times the instructions would be delivered by other means, like email.

This day there had been no instructions.

The air was cool across his bare skin as he breathed slowly and deeply, pushing the image of John Lee Roche from his mind, refusing to give in to the darkness. He had left the strip of leather on Skinner's desk marked 'Urgent', a plea for physical pain that would help reduce the emotional pain Mulder was now suffering. Roche could have killed Samantha and now Mulder would never know. But he could not sacrifice Katlin for his own selfish personal reasons.

Waiting for Skinner, not knowing for sure if the man would arrive, added apprehension to the horror Mulder was experiencing. His mind constantly replayed the moment when he had pulled the trigger, splattering blood on an interior wall of an abandoned bus and killing every chance of knowing if Samantha was the last victim of Roche; a victim who would remain undiscovered for all eternity.

The teasing voice of Roche surrounded Mulder driving him further toward madness and he lost track of time.

"Boy," Skinner barked, "I expect an answer when I address you. Kneel. Face me."

Shaking his head, Mulder tried to clear his mind and focus. "Yes, Sir," he mumbled as he pushed himself up from the floor and balanced on his knees, legs spread wide, wondering when Skinner had arrived.

"You shaved." Skinner stroked Mulder's bare crotch with a black riding crop. "Why?"

Risking a glance, Mulder noted Skinner was wearing leather. Black. Up his long legs. "It helps, sometimes," Mulder stammered, "to create the right headspace." He paused, "Sir."

"Did I give you permission?" The leather crop snapped against the leather pants.

"No, Sir." Mulder's body reacted to the scent and sound of the leather. "I need…"

Walking behind Mulder, Skinner smacked the naked butt with the crop. "I determine what you need."

"Yes, Sir." Mulder cringed as a strip of hot pain grew across his skin. "Please understand…"

Another stroke with the crop. "And you damn sure better understand what I need, boy," Skinner growled. "I may flay the skin off your butt."

"Yes, Sir." Mulder looked at the floor as the fire began to burn away at the edge of the blackness.

"Butt plug, boy?" Skinner pushed the crop against the flange of the rubber plug. "Without permission…"

"Yes, Sir." Mulder was drowning in humiliation

"What else?" Skinner demanded.

"Ah," Mulder tried, more heat in his face than his butt. "An enema, Sir."

"Why?" Skinner demanded, using the crop to lift Mulder's chin.

"The headspace, Sir." Mulder tried to push away the embarrassment. "I fantasized, Sir, that you disciplined me, then forced the water up my butt."

"Cold water?"

"Yes, Sir," Mulder stuttered, remembering the hard cramps.

"Did it help?"

Mulder shook his head. "No, Sir. Nothing helps." He gripped his outer thighs tightly to keep his hands at his sides.

"Is that why you picked four implements instead of the three you're allowed?" Skinner pointed to the quirt, the three foot single tail whip, the chain flogger, and the heavy leather paddle.

"Yes, Sir." Mulder was hungry for the physical pain, hopeful that it would replace the emotional pain that controlled his head and heart.

"And did you deliberately disobey established rules to earn punishment?"

Mulder was silent, shocked by the question. He tried to work through the darkness in search of an answer.

"Boy," Skinner snarled as he struck Mulder's butt again. "Don't keep me waiting."

The sting of the swat brought Mulder back to the surface. "I'm sorry, Sir. I was trying to answer you honestly. I need you, Sir, and I need the honesty as well."

"Well?"

"I don't think I disobeyed so you'd increase my punishment, Sir; I just crave the pain." Mulder slumped, his body giving in to the power of the darkness. "I need it more than I ever have," he admitted.

"Boy, there is plenty of discipline in your future. The reprimand is written and on my desk. I wouldn't stop it, even if I could. You fucked up and I won't allow you to do it again. Do you understand me, boy?"

Mulder shook his head again. "It won't matter if you can't defeat the darkness."

"How bad is it?" Skinner used his hand to gently lift Mulder's chin until their eyes met.

"Worse than it's ever been," Mulder confessed, fighting panic. "If you can't stop it, Sir, it's going to swallow me."

"Do you trust me to do that, boy?" Skinner's fingers tightened on Mulder's chin.

"I have to, otherwise I'm lost."

"Total trust. Total control."

"Yes, Sir." The ghosts and demons chased each other through the swirling fog of the darkness.

Skinner released Mulder's face, walked to the phone and began dialing.

"Who are you calling?" Mulder blurted, unable to stop the words.

"Your partner. I want a complete and intimate physical. I want to know that you haven't injured yourself."

"No," Mulder screamed, horrified. "Anything but that."

"Anything, boy?" Skinner waved the phone. "Make sure you mean that."

"Please, Sir, don't make me submit to Scully." Mulder fought the sobs.

Skinner replaced the phone. "Here's the deal, boy. You disobey me again, like the cold water enema, and *Doctor* Scully does a *complete*, and I do mean *complete*, physical while I watch.

Slumping Mulder buried his face in his hands. Humiliation was one thing, but this was mortification. Scully's hands on his cock, her fingers up his ass, or running a hand over his freshly shaven skin, examining the welts on his naked butt. Seeing his soul as only Skinner had ever seen it. "Yes, Sir."

"I can't hear you, boy."

Understanding the need to state his submission, Mulder raised his head and squared his shoulders. "Yes, Sir," he stated firmly. "You have total control."

"You do nothing, not even jerk off, without my knowledge and consent. Scully will be your punishment."

Mulder bowed his head. "Yes, Sir," he capitulated.

"Is the dungeon ready?"

"Yes, Sir," he replied, wondering if that would warrant punishment.

"Fine, boy." Skinner fondled the riding crop.

Mulder took a moment to appreciate the man; dressed completely in black, a tee shirt covered by a vest topped the leather pants -- *smalls* some remote portion of his brain supplied -- and the unadorned shiny black boots. He wondered if he would be allowed to service those boots tonight. His anticipation pushed back the terrifying darkness.

"Go set up the massage table, then wait for me over the spanking bench."

"Yes, Sir." Mulder started to rise.

"Crawl."

Balancing on his hands and knees, Mulder considered Skinner's power. It gave him hope that together they could defeat the darkness.

Rising to his feet in his second bedroom, Mulder pulled the folded massage table from its place in the closet, then pushed the St. Andrew's Cross back into its corner. He had hoped to be chained to its smooth wood for several hours. Once the massage table was set up, Mulder pulled the simple, padded spanking bench into the center of the room.

After draping himself over the dark vinyl covering, he spread his legs and placed each foot by the metal legs of the bench. Skinner would bind him or not. Mulder hoped to feel the chains caress his skin as even that step helped achieve the subspace he so desperately craved.

"Very good, boy," Skinner praised as he returned the implements Mulder had taken to the living room, placing them on hooks that lined one wall. All except the chain flogger, which he snaked over Mulder's back. "Do you really want me to use this on you?"

"Yes, Sir. It produces exquisite pain, at least a level ten, Sir." Mulder squirmed, knowing he was not ready to take the chain without sufficient warm up and actually afraid Skinner would do it.

"Trust, boy," Skinner whispered as he drug the light chain across Mulder's bare skin one last time before walking away.

"Yes, Sir." Mulder sighed in relief and was unprepared for the solid blow from the wide leather strap across his butt. He yelled in surprise and in pain.

"Have you earned punishment tonight, boy?" Another heavy blow.

"Yes, Sir." Mulder hissed, catching his breath as Skinner hit his butt a third time.

"You will not drop into subspace until I allow it." A fourth stroke. "Understood?" A fifth stroke.

"Yes, Sir." Mulder cried, his ass burning. Raising up on his toes, he tried to wiggle away from the hard spanking.

"Is that a wise thing to do?" Skinner swung the strap again. "I'm already angry with you."

"Yes, Sir, uh, I mean no Sir," Mulder stammered. "How many?"

"Twenty," Skinner placed the next swat over the butt plug, "for now. Count."

"Yes, Sir. That's eight, Sir. Thank you, Sir." Mulder cringed but held still, prevented from dropping into subspace by the fierce pain and focusing on the count.

After fifteen licks, Skinner asked, "Do you understand why I'm angry, boy?"

"Sir, my butt hurts and I'm not sure I should offer an honest answer to that question," Mulder gasped. "Damnit, Sir, that's sixteen and it hurts."

"Have I ever tolerated insolence from you?"

"No, Sir."

The next four lashes were even harder, leaving Mulder deeper into the pain than the darkness. He struggled to breathe.

"Move to the massage table," Skinner snapped, "on your left side. We're going to talk about your honesty." He turned and left the room.

Butt red and stinging, Mulder forced himself to stand and wondered why Skinner was angry. The demons in Mulder's head were pursuing only him, not Skinner. Stretching out carefully, Mulder lay facing the center of the small room, hoping somehow to understand Skinner.

Skinner returned, carrying the red enema bag.

"I'm already clean," Mulder protested. "Ah, Sir..."

"I didn't order your actions and I don't approve of your methods." Skinner hung the bag on a hook on the wall next to the massage table. "Relax while I remove the plug. Something else you didn't have permission to do."

"Yes, Sir." Mulder pushed when Skinner pulled on the rubber shaft. He had no idea what to expect from Skinner and wondered if this had been a good idea. But the darkness frightened him more than anything he had ever experienced.

Skinner removed the condom from the toy, tossed it in the trash and dropped the butt plug in a blue plastic bucket. "Now, we do this my way, and while you're here, you will tell me why I'm angry with you." Skinner fastened restraints around Mulder's wrists, eased the lubricated nozzle inside Mulder's ass and released the water. "A point to remember: The universe does not revolve around Fox Mulder and the X-Files."

"Sir," he started as the warm water entered his body, "Roche may have killed my sister. He had information; I know he did."

Skinner popped Mulder's red ass. "So you abused your authority and had the man released from prison into your custody. Boy, he kidnapped a child and you had to kill him to save her."

"He knew about Sam," Mulder declared.

"He was playing with your head," Skinner shouted, "you half-witted dunder-head." He took a deep breath, then continued more calmly. "Tell me why I'm angry with you. All the reasons."

"I disobeyed your orders," Mulder ventured.

"Unless you want more of my strap," Skinner warned as he fingered the welts on Mulder's butt, "you better take me seriously. And there will be no bathroom privileges until I'm satisfied with your answers."

"Sir, I investigated a crime, located another of Roche's victims, and stopped him from killing again, Sir," Mulder offered with more confidence.

"Do you know what happens to Scully every time you ditch her?"

"I take her out of harm's way," Mulder stated seriously as he tried to relax around the pressure of the water.

"You put her in my office where I grill her about your whereabouts and activities," Skinner growled, then softened, "then we both worry about you."

"No, Sir, I protect her," Mulder protested. "She's been hurt too much already. She didn't ask for this; it's not her crusade."

"Boy, you leave her to defend you, usually with no information whatsoever. You put your life in danger and you put others in danger - and you never think about it."

"Sir, I need the bathroom."

"Not yet, boy," Skinner's hands were gentle on Mulder's stomach while the voice was stern. "We're not through yet."

"But, Sir…" Mulder whined.

"Hold it," Skinner shrugged, "or clean up the mess. I really don't care. But you have to understand that this relationship - whatever the hell it is - is about more than you. I have an interest here, too, and you are going to experience it."

"Sir!" Mulder squeaked.

"You are a slut, boy, a complete and utter slut." Skinner walked across the room and picked up his crop. "You promise yourself to me, but the first time someone says 'alien abduction' or 'X-File' or even 'Samantha', you disregard any arrangements between us. You remove your *collar & leash* and dump it whenever you please and take off with your new *master*. Your fealty means nothing."

"Please..." Mulder pleaded as he pulled at the cuffs holding him in place. The need for the toilet made everything else unimportant.

"At the moment I'm not interested in your needs, only in what I get out of it. If you can forget the rules, so can I." Skinner moved back and stroked Mulder's bare crotch. "If I do this, it will be for my pleasure, boy. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir." Mulder tightened his ass muscles. "Please, Sir, I need the bathroom."

Skinner released the Velcro restraints, then eased the nozzle out of Mulder's ass.

"Thank you, Sir." Mulder yelled as he fled the room.

Sitting on the toilet, Mulder considered Skinner's words, still unclear as to the why of Skinner's emotions. Some of it was strange; Skinner had never collared Mulder. The games were good for him, especially good when he played with Skinner. He trusted Skinner; well, as much as he ever trusted anyone. If anyone could tame the damn demons, it was Skinner.

"Boy, I thought you were already clean," Skinner snapped. "Get your butt back in here."

"Yes, Sir." Mulder replied as he flushed the toilet, then took a minute to clean himself with baby wipes. Since Skinner was already angry, it wouldn't do to antagonize him further.

In the dungeon, Mulder noted that Skinner had pushed the spanking bench out of the way, moved the cross to the center of the room where it rested on top of a drop cloth, and laid out a number of items on the massage table. Among these were the quirt, the single tail, and the chain flogger. Mulder didn't know whether to be pleased or terrified.

"Lean over the table and spread your cheeks." Skinner inserted a well-lubed butt plug that was larger than the one Mulder had been wearing earlier.

"Now," Skinner ordered, "stand in the center of the room, your hands on top of your head, and spread your legs."

"May I have a blindfold, Sir?" Mulder requested.

"You may not," Skinner replied. "I remind you for the last time, boy, this is not about you. If I decide to allow you access to subspace, it will be after I have finished with you. I might, however, consider a gag."

Mulder shook his head, deciding to stay quiet.

Skinner slipped a cotton rope around Mulder's waist, secured it in the back, then slipped the two ends through a loop in the base of the butt plug. Stepping in front of Mulder, Skinner pulled the narrow white rope between Mulder's legs, wrapping it around and between his balls.

"Too tight, Sir," Mulder complained.

"Another word, unless I speak directly to you, and I gag you," Skinner declared.

Mulder nodded, then watched as Skinner wrapped the pliable rope around his balls and flaccid cock. Skinner had put the fear of God --- or something --- into Mulder; his cock hadn't even twitched. Now the demons were searching for a hiding place.

When he had fastened the ends of the rope together, Skinner directed Mulder to step onto the platform that supported the 'X' shaped structure. Lifting his arms, Mulder allowed his hands to be secured in the stirrups at the tops of the 'X'. Then his feet were spread and cuffed, the cuffs tightly fastened with Velcro.

"Oh, we are not through here, boy." Skinner ran his hands over Mulder's chest, tweaking the nipples until they were hard. "I won't have to worry about you remaining still." Skinner attached a nipple clamp to Mulder's left nipple.

Mulder screamed.

"Unless the sound-proofing in this room is extraordinary, you better opt for the gag, because that's not the last time you're going to scream tonight."

The bite from the clamp settled into a steady pain and Mulder caught his breath. "Yes, Sir." The variety of sensations were bombarding his mind and he was afraid that more would drive him beyond his endurance.

Then Skinner pulled the clamp chain tight around the center position of the 'X' and attached the second clamp to Mulder's right nipple.

Mulder bit his lip, drawing blood, to stop the scream. When he could handle the pain, he whispered, "Water. Please, Sir."

From the small refrigerator in a corner of the room, Skinner took a bottle of cold water, twisted off the cap, and drained half the contents. Then he opened a wrapped straw, placed it in the bottle, and gently placed the straw in Mulder's mouth, being careful of the wound still oozing blood.

When Mulder finished, he moved his head slightly, pushing the straw away. "Thank you, Sir."

Stepping away, Skinner pulled a paper towel from the holder above the refrigerator and dampened it from the remaining contents of the water bottle. He used the towel to wipe the blood from Mulder's lips and chin. "You do not have permission to injure yourself, boy." Gently he wiped the sweat from Mulder's forehead.

"Yes, Sir." Mulder responded, words and thoughts floating randomly inside his head but not connecting in any rational way.

"I want you to watch everything I do, boy." Skinner tossed the empty water bottle in the trash. "If you can't see clearly, I'll move the cross."

Mulder stared at himself in the mirrored wall, seeing the bound man and wondering if that was really him. Usually he was blindfolded for these scenes; something that was his choice. "I can see, Sir."

"Open your mouth," Skinner ordered before placing a small ball gag in Mulder's mouth and securing it. "Piss me off and I'll replace it with a larger, more uncomfortable model."

"Yes, Sir," Mulder replied but it came out too muffled to be understood so he nodded his head.

"Flex your fingers."

Releasing the metal bar inside the restraints securing his hands, Mulder obeyed the order.

"Do they feel okay?"

Mulder nodded.

"Hold this." Skinner placed a ping pong ball in Mulder's right hand. "If you find yourself in distress - a serious problem, boy - drop the ball." Skinner placed Mulder's hands back around the metal bars, positioning the ball carefully. "If you drop that for any reason that isn't serious, I will be pissed. Do you understand?"

Mulder nodded.

"Fainting, vomiting, chills, serious stuff, boy."

Mulder nodded again.

"I'm going to make you scream," Skinner tugged roughly on the nipple clamps, "and I'll probably make you bleed. You do not have a safeword."

Mulder nodded his understanding and wondered if Roche wasn't a better choice for an adversary.

Dropping to his knees in front of Mulder, Skinner checked the tightness of the genital bonds, then attached a 'C' clamp to the rope around Mulder's balls.

"No," Mulder protested but only a squeak emerged.

Skinner held the weight for Mulder to see, then attached it to the clamp.

Mulder screamed and bit into the rubber ball in his mouth.

Skinner went to the refrigerator and removed another bottle of water. After drinking a large portion, he unwrapped another straw. He eased the gag from Mulder's mouth and placed the straw against Mulder's lips. "Anything you can't handle, boy?"

"No, Sir," Mulder managed as he drank more water.

When Mulder was finished, Skinner splashed the remaining cold water on Mulder's face and hands. Before Mulder could form a verbal response, Skinner slipped the gag back in place. Using a hand towel from the bathroom, Skinner gently patted Mulder's face dry then tossed the towel back onto the massage table.

Next Skinner removed the right nipple clamp, twisted and squeezed the nipple, then replaced the clamp in a different position. After giving Mulder a minute to recover, Skinner repeated the procedure on the left nipple.

Mulder hung against the smooth polished dark wood of the cross and watched as Skinner picked up a handful of clothes pins, then knelt before Mulder and yanked the weight secured to the rope around Mulder's balls.

"Oh my God!" Mulder sobbed but only a squeak escaped around the gag.

Skinner stroked the smooth skin of Mulder's sac. "I would have ordered you to shave, boy, so I won't punish you for that transgression."

"Yes, Sir," Mulder moaned as he watched a clothes pin open.

"The hair catches in the ropes and clamps and hurts like hell." He attached a clothes pin to the tender tissue, then grinned. "I want there to be pleasure in your pain."

Mulder didn't think, he just screamed. And enjoyed the freedom to do so.

Skinner continued to place the pins until there were ten on the scrotum and five on each leg on the inside of thighs. Mulder was sobbing, tears trailing freely down his face.

Standing, Skinner picked up the soft hand towel and wiped Mulder's face. "You're doing just fine, boy. Look at yourself."

While Mulder couldn't see his crotch clearly because of the shadows from the cross, the sharp pain from the pins outlined the artwork. He was glad Skinner hadn't used the clothes pins on his bound cock, which would also hurt should he manage an erection, an event he considered unlikely at this point.

Skinner stepped behind Mulder and manipulated the butt plug, which set off a new series of sensations, some painful, some arousing.

When he appeared satisfied with Mulder's bindings and clamps, Skinner wiped his hands on the towel, removed his vest, then picked up a medium weight flogger. He trailed it across Mulder's face, allowing Mulder to inhale the strong scent of the leather.

It was a favorite of Mulder's and the odor created more arousal, as did the feel of the implement when Skinner rubbed it over Mulder's bare back.

Then Skinner stepped back and brought the flogger down hard over Mulder's left shoulder. Three heartbeats, then the damn thing hit his right shoulder, but it was the blow to his already paddled ass that wiped everything else from Mulder's mind.

It became a routine: left shoulder, three heartbeats, right shoulder, three heartbeats, ass, three heartbeats, begin again. Mulder bounced from sensation to sensation as each round in the lashing was harder than the last until the final blow landed between his shoulder blades. Mulder screamed and almost lost the ping pong ball.

Skinner tossed the flogger to the floor near the spanking bench. Tomorrow, or some time, Mulder would clean the toys and the room, returning it to its usual tidiness.

Breathing hard and working to control his tears and his fears, Mulder watched as Skinner took another bottle of water, drank some, shared some with Mulder, checked the clamps and ropes, splashed water on Mulder's face, then removed a clothes pin from his left ball and another from his right thigh. The pain bounced around between Mulder's groin and his skull.

This time Skinner moved the bucket containing the used butt plug underneath Mulder's cock. "If you need to take a leak, you'd better hit the bucket," he ordered gruffly.

Mulder nodded, wondering how it would feel to pee with his dick strapped down inside the rope prison.

Again Skinner wiped his hands on the towel before picking up a heavier flogger, this one made from moose hide. Its thud was also heavier than the previous flogger.

Mulder watched as Skinner worked the flogger, getting the feel of its weight and distribution. The black tee shirt had damp patches where sweat had collected.

Mulder loved the moose flogger and when applied with a certain hand, it felt like a heavy, arousing massage. He doubted that would be the case tonight.

The flogging began the same as last time: left shoulder, pause, right shoulder, pause, ass. Mulder closed his eyes as the endorphins rushed through his body.

"Damn you, open your eyes or I'll tape them open," Skinner barked.

Mulder nodded, wanting the escape, needing the escape and wondered why Skinner denied it. He studied Skinner in the mirror as he lifted the flogger over his head. The stance and body language didn't display anger, more like determination. Then the lashes hit his back and he worked to handle the sensations from all the parts of his body until Skinner completed the routine.

This time, as Skinner removed two clothes pins from Mulder's groin, he rose and fastened them to Mulder's earlobes. The pain was sharp and focused and served as a contrast to the other sensations in his body. He longed for the freedom to hear the sound of his screams.

Skinner pulled his damp tee shirt over his head and placed it over the cross near Mulder's face, the sweat mingling with the odor of leather. Then he selected Mulder's new kangaroo flogger, a stingy affair for a flogger and one that had cost Mulder a portion of his pension.

"I haven't used this on you before." Skinner met Mulder's eyes in the mirror. "Am I going to enjoy it?"

Mulder tried to smile around the gag and nodded his head. He hoped he would also enjoy it. The muscles in Skinner's arm were impressive and the pain should be equally impressive.

Skinner swung the flogger up, down, and around as he got the feel of the toy. He rubbed it over Mulder's back, then flipped it casually, watching as it wrapped around and hit Mulder's chest. "Oh, as difficult to handle as its owner," Skinner grinned.

It took Skinner three more tries of light strokes to gain control before he started his routine, but he wasn't as heavy-handed as he had been. "Nice," he commented. "Do I want to know what you paid for this?"

Taking a deep breath, trying to relax into the pain, Mulder shook his head.

"I admit I like playing with boys who have nice toy collections," Skinner mused, then turned serious as he landed a hard blow to Mulder's shoulder.

When Skinner finished with the kangaroo flogger, Mulder was trembling and sweat was running down his cheek.

"Are you going to pass out on me?"

Mulder struggled for control.

"You're still holding the ball." Skinner removed the gag before getting a bottle of apple juice. "Drink slowly."

"Thank you, Sir." Mulder drank some juice. "I need to catch my breath."

Skinner removed the clothes pins from Mulder's earlobes, then took the ping pong ball. "Flex your fingers. Any cramps or tingling?"

"No, Sir. The bondage is perfect, Sir, as it always is." Mulder smiled in appreciation.

After allowing Mulder more juice, Skinner drank some then set the bottle on the refrigerator. He removed the nipple clamps and dropped them in the bucket between Mulder's legs. There were drops of blood on both nipples, which Skinner collected on his fingertips and dotted on Mulder's face. "We have to clean this, boy."

"Yes, Sir." Mulder prepared himself for the sharp sting as Skinner took rubbing alcohol and cotton cleaning pads from a shelf above the refrigerator. "Oh, god," he cried as Skinner applied the alcohol to the small wounds.

"I'll be right back," Skinner promised as he tossed the used cotton pads in the trash. "I'm only going to the bathroom for another towel."

"Yes, Sir," Mulder responded and sagged against the restraints. His nipples pounded with a dull ache, different from the pain while the clamps had been attached. The area between his legs where the clothes pins were attached throbbed and would wake to a new sensation when more pins were removed. His back was on fire but he was no closer to the release he sought than when they started.

Not quite true, he reminded himself as he realized the darkness wasn't quite as black and the demons had retreated to the edge of his mind.

Skinner touched Mulder's face with a soft damp cloth and cleaned it, then wiped his chest. "We aren't through here, are we, boy?"

"No, Sir," Mulder admitted, then accepted more juice before Skinner replaced the gag.

After caressing the quirt, Skinner ran it over Mulder's face and chest. The rough stiffness of the braided leather didn't begin to advertise the bite and burn of the implement.

"You know what this is, boy?"

Mulder nodded.

"Shoulders, ass, shoulders, ass, you know the routine."

Mulder nodded again as he remembered a horse owner who had declared he would not use a quirt on his animals.

Skinner checked the ping pong ball in Mulder's right hand, then stepped behind Mulder and rubbed his hand over Mulder's heated flesh. "This is going to hurt. If you pass out on me, I'm calling Scully. She might enjoy a go at you with a whip, so you behave yourself and follow the rules."

Mulder nodded and tried to make himself one with the pain. The quirt hit his back, then the burn, which was delayed by a few seconds followed. Skinner's caressing hand gently rubbed the line of fire from the quirt making the pain much worse. It only seemed fitting that the time Skinner had touched him in what otherwise would have been a sensuous manner caused Mulder more pain. Damn, it hurt.

"Okay?" Skinner asked close to Mulder's ear.

Mulder nodded as tears dotted his cheeks.

"Good," Skinner replied, as he laid the quirt across the other shoulder.

After six strokes, Mulder was gasping for air and sobbing. Skinner removed the gag. "Water or juice?"

"Water," Mulder managed and was pleased when the cold fluid soothed his dry throat.

"Three more, boy," Skinner stated when Mulder had finished with the water. "Can you handle it if I remove the gag?"

"Yes, Sir," Mulder promised, his throat raw from many screams this night, leaving him with little voice. "I need to close my eyes, please, Sir."

"Granted," Skinner allowed.

Mulder's mind was consumed by the fire that walked across his back when Skinner applied the quirt three more times in slightly different spots than the previous licks, the last landing across his butt to hit the flange of the butt plug.

Afterward, Skinner picked up a round leather-covered wooden paddle and proceeded to use shallow, thumping strokes that blended the pain all together into a dull thud until Mulder calmed and gained control. "Good boy," Skinner praised quietly.

Mulder was surprisingly elated by Skinner's encouragement. "Thank you, Sir," He offered with a weak smile.

Before offering Mulder water, Skinner replaced the paddle and picked up the three-foot single tail whip, which he draped around Mulder's neck. "I promised you blood; this makes it easy."

"Yes, Sir," Mulder hissed as Skinner removed all the clothes pins except two on Mulder's balls.

"More water?" Skinner drank from the bottle.

"Yes, Sir." Mulder was ready for the whip, for the blood and the pain. Hopefully, this would push him over.

On Mulder's back, Skinner used the index finger on his right hand to draw six lines across Mulder's shoulders. "I'm going to draw blood each time I hit you."

"Yes, Sir,"

"I know you're floating, boy, but the rule stands. You pass out on me, I call Scully."

"Yes, Sir," less concerned with the threat than he had been earlier.

"Oh, god," Mulder cried as the leather cut into his skin. "That's one, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

"Counting is good, boy," Skinner commented as he twirled the whip over his head. "I trust this whip only gets used on you."

"Yes, Sir," Mulder panted.

By the sixth lash, Mulder could feel moisture trickle down his back.

Dropping the whip at Mulder's feet, Skinner asked, "Now what?"

"The alcohol, Sir." Mulder was definitely floating now. "Water first, please, Sir."

"Of course, boy," Skinner grinned. "By morning you won't have any voice left."

"Won't have anyone to talk to, Sir."

Skinner frowned at that but held the straw to Mulder's mouth.

The alcohol burned like a motherfucker but Mulder didn't care. He didn't want to care.

"Are you there yet?" Skinner asked, his hands high on Mulder's shoulders.

Slowly shaking his head, Mulder admitted honestly, "No, Sir."

"Then it's time to change the process." Skinner stepped very close to Mulder's back, and wrapped his arms around Mulder's chest, and rubbed his palms over Mulder's sensitive nipple.

Moaning, Mulder pressed back into Skinner. "I need the pain, Sir."

"If that were true, boy, you'd be better now, wouldn't you?" Skinner continued the caresses.

"Yes, Sir." Mulder closed his eyes, scared all over again.

Skinner dropped his hands, played with the ropes binding Mulder's genitals. "Do you trust me, boy?"

Mulder watched Skinner in the mirror, judging if honesty was the best policy since Skinner could walk out leaving Mulder restrained. A rational part of him said Skinner had never done that, would never do it, but the fear lingered.

"Boy, I asked you a question." Skinner pressed himself closer to Mulder's bare skin.

"Sir, truthfully, I think I trust you about as much as you trust me."

Skinner tensed, then relaxed against Mulder. "I appreciate your honesty." Skinner dropped his hands to Mulder's cock, teasing the sensitized skin.

'Oh," Mulder groaned as he dropped the ping pong ball.

"Boy!" Skinner stepped back and away. "What's the problem?"

"No problem, Sir," Mulder stammered. "You don't usually touch me like that."

Releasing Mulder's hands, Skinner caressed Mulder's face. "Maybe I should."

"Sir!" Mulder gulped, surprised at the gentleness and afraid to respond.

"Or not," Skinner muttered as he released Mulder's feet, then helped him to stand before stroking Mulder's cock again.

"Sir, you don't really expect me to get hard trussed up this way?"

"I can get you up and get you off any time I want," Skinner snapped, the fire back in his voice.

"Yes, Sir," Mulder responded automatically, then dripped to his knees, his face inches from Skinner's leather-covered crotch. Skinner's power was overwhelming.

"Hands behind your back," Skinner ordered. "Open my pants with your mouth."

"Sir?" Mulder stared at the lacings holding the pants secure and he wondered where Skinner had purchased them.

"I need to take a leak and I expect you to handle it," Skinner ordered.

"Yes, Sir." Mulder leaned forward and took one end of the lacing between his teeth, then pulled. The leather, Skinner's sweat and unique odor kindled Mulder's arousal. He had never seen Skinner's cock, never been allowed to touch it. This wasn't exactly what he wanted but it was an invitation to intimacy.

With more effort Mulder opened the pants.

"Take it out with your mouth," Skinner commanded.

"Yes, Sir." Mulder used his nose, then his lips and teeth to remove the organ from inside the leather. There was no underwear and the male aroma was strong and intoxicating.

"Rules, boy," Skinner growled. "You drink the piss, all of it. If you spill any, you lick it off the floor or wherever."

Holding the slightly aroused flesh in his mouth, Mulder nodded, then moved the cock so it was at a comfortable angle and hoped Skinner had sweated out most of the water he had consumed.

"Ready?"

Mulder nodded again and took a deep breath.

The stream was hot and strong forcing Mulder to work to keep from losing any of the precious fluid. It was a gift from Sir and while Mulder was sure the action was designed to be humiliating, he found it very exciting.

"Clean me," Skinner ordered when he finished.

Mulder took the opportunity to lick and suck, encouraging Skinner's cock to grow.

"You only have permission to clean, boy," Skinner snarled. "Don't push it!"

"Yes, Sir." Mulder allowed the tasty treat to slip from his mouth. "Sir, there's no way I can put you away without using my hands."

"I know." Skinner tucked his dick back into his pants and relaced them.

"Put away the cross, then get into the sling."

"Sir?"

"Boy, don't make me repeat myself."

"Yes, Sir," Mulder replied, surprised, intrigued and still frightened, as he tugged the tarp from under the cross. He placed it under the sling complete with the bucket, then he pushed the cross against the wall.

"Bend over the massage table so I can remove the plug," Skinner commanded.

"Yes, Sir." Mulder hoped for gentleness; his butt hurt. His back hurt as well, but the pain had failed to do its job and the demons hid in the shadowy darkness of his mind.

Skinner ran his hands over the heated and welted flesh of Mulder's ass. "Such a pretty butt," Skinner mumbled as he slowly removed the toy.

"Sir, I need to pee," Mulder stated as he stood.

"Later," Skinner declared. "Right now I want to cover the bleeding wounds, then I want you in the sling."

"Sir, will you untie me?" Mulder asked, hoping Skinner would allow sexual release.

"When I'm ready." Skinner took several bandages from the first-aid kit. "On your knees, boy."

"Yes, Sir." Giving in, Mulder tried to analyze what he was feeling. Could he trust Skinner?

"These are going to last for a while," Skinner promised as he ran his fingertips over Mulder's shoulders. "My marks belong on your back."

"Yes, Sir, they do," Mulder agreed, "and maybe more frequently," he prayed quietly.

"Maybe," Skinner replied softly, then covered the flesh where he had broken the skin before caressing Mulder's back.

"Yes, Sir," Mulder replied, wondering what it would be like to kiss Skinner. The thought made Mulder's cock harden.

Backing away from Mulder, Skinner said, "Towels, boy. I don't want your bruised skin rubbing against the leather.

"Hall closet, Sir. Chucks are in the closet here," Mulder replied. "Please untie me, Sir."

"No." Skinner left the room, then returned with a bath sheet. "You'll thank me later, boy."

"But it hurts," Mulder whined as he stared at his erection.

"I know," Skinner grinned as he spread the towel over the head of the leather body of the sling. Skinner draped a disposable bed liner over the business end of the sling, then checked the chains where they were bolted to the ceiling. "Don't keep me waiting, boy, and there had better be Crisco in here."

"Yes, Sir, in the cabinet beside the frig," Mulder replied, as he settled his butt on the edge of the sling, then lay back. "Oh, shit," he mumbled.

"Appreciating my work," Skinner teased as he took the can of Crisco and a box of gloves out of the cabinet. "Any frozen Crisco, boy?"

"Frig," Mulder groaned as he pushed himself back on the sling.

Skinner opened the tiny freezer and found the golf ball size balls which he placed next to the box of gloves. "Legs up, boy." Skinner secured Mulder's legs with a combination of Velcro straps and heavy chains including chains around the top of Mulder's thighs.

"Your hands are cold," Mulder grumbled, "Sir."

"Shall I whip the inside of your thighs?" Skinner barked as he secured Mulder's arm to the chains holding the top of the sling.

'Oh, no, Sir," Mulder replied as he tried unsuccessfully to pull his legs together.

After checking all the restraints, Skinner rummaged through the closet shelves and found a length of stiff rubber tubing. Returning to Mulder's ass, Skinner slipped gloves on, snapping them at his wrists before scooping fresh Crisco into a paper bowl. With the greasy stuff on his right hand, Skinner coated the plastic rod, then placed it beside the frozen balls. "Ready, boy?"

"Yes, Sir." Mulder took a deep breath and relaxed, his legs secured so they were spread as wide as possible. Glancing upward, he could see clearly in the mirrored tiles on the ceiling as Skinner's hand reached the waiting, puckered asshole. Skinner had such wonderfully large hands and Mulder loved those hands whether they were spanking his bare butt, massaging his tense muscles, or fisting his ass.

One finger, then two worked in until Mulder's opening was very slippery. Skinner removed his hand, lubricated a frozen Crisco ball and pushed it inside the opening.

"Cold," Mulder groaned.

"So warm it up," Skinner replied as he used the plastic rod to gently push the frozen lube further inside Mulder's ass. Skinner repeated this three times until Mulder felt a cold lump inside his belly.

"Good boy," Skinner praised, his hand replaced the plastic. "You do like this, don't you, boy?"

"Yes, Sir," Mulder purred as he worked his ass muscles to pull Skinner's hand inside.

"We're not in a hurry here," Skinner warned as he withdrew his hand, scooped more Crisco, and pushed it inside Mulder's ass. "I think slow is the order of the day. Let's see if you can take my elbow."

"Yes, Sir," Mulder responded, his mind closing down to everything but the pain from the whipping and the hand working its way up his butt.

"Oh, god," Mulder cried when Skinner's finger caressed the prostate and he tried to lift his ass but the restraints prevented almost all movement. "Pee, Sir, I need to pee. Please, Sir."

Skinner worked more of his hand inside Mulder. "You may piss when, and only when, I allow it."

"But, Sir," Mulder cried as the pressure increased from his full bladder and Skinner's hand.

"I have control of your body," Skinner declared calmly, "and you will do as I order."

More pressure from Skinner's hand and Mulder felt urine push its way into his erect and constricted penis. "Oh, god," he cried, as he experienced the movement of the liquid. It was exquisite and painful and extraordinary and totally out of his control.

"You are my property, boy," Skinner answered, as he alternated the pressure, changing the urine level from a trickle to a strong stream.

"Yes, Sir," Mulder managed hoarsely, as he pissed over himself, and listened as the fluid dripped onto the floor, glad that the pad under him would soak up most of the liquid.

"I allowed you to pee," Skinner grinned.

"Yes, Sir," Mulder sighed. "Thank you, Sir." He relaxed around the hand inside his body.

"Good boy," Skinner praised as he continued to work his hand further inside where the Crisco balls were beginning to melt.

Mulder remained in a high state of arousal with all of his senses on overload. The hand, the large hand, inside him produced the most incredible feelings, reducing him to moans. Forming words was beyond him.

"More?" Skinner asked.

Mulder grunted and pushed on Skinner's hand, pulling it further inside.

"You're such a greedy slut, little boy." Skinner grinned.

"Ummm," Mulder tried. He enjoyed being a slut, especially Skinner's slut. "Don't," Mulder gasped, "stop."

Trailing his left hand down Mulder's inner thigh, "Why would I stop?" Skinner stated, "I have total control. You can't do anything unless I permit it. And you will remember this lesson every time you sit down for at least a week."

"Yes, Sir," Mulder managed.

Skinner worked his arm out slowly.

"No," Mulder screamed, his voice all but gone.

Skinner slapped Mulder's thigh. "My hand is cramping, boy." He slipped the glove off his hand. "I need a fresh glove and more lube."

"Yes, Sir," Mulder acknowledged, knowing in some remote part of his mind that cramps happened during fisting, but all he wanted was that hand back inside his empty ass.

"And you're not as clean as you're supposed to be," Skinner stated. "There will be punishment for that."

"But, Sir," Mulder started, then closed his mouth. He was clean, the second enema has seen to that. Skinner has seen to that. Mulder was confused, but one look at Skinner's face and he replied respectfully, "Yes, Sir."

"I expect better from you," Skinner sighed.

"Yes, Sir." The sadness in Mulder was unexpected. Pleasing Skinner was more important than Mulder had realized. "It won't happen again, Sir."

Flexing his right hand, Skinner gently stroked Mulder's cheek. "That's what I like to hear, boy."

"Thank you, Sir." Emotions ran wildly through Mulder. "Shall I massage your hand, Sir?"

"Tomorrow, boy." Skinner rubbed his wrist. "I'll have a number of chores for you tomorrow."

"Yes, Sir," Mulder replied sadly.

Skinner pulled one of the calving gloves from the drawer. "Tonight you have other things to do."

"Yes, Sir," Mulder stared, a shiver running down his spine, as Skinner pulled the disposable glove over his elbow. "Yes, Sir!" he yelled in a ragged whisper.

Greasing his hand and arm, Skinner held eye contact with Mulder as he placed his thumb in between his middle and ring fingers, then drew his fingers together before he inserted them into Mulder's relaxed hole. "Would you like to close your eyes, boy?"

"When it gets too intense, Sir," Mulder replied, "but for now I'd like to watch."

"As you wish," Skinner granted.

Mulder was so ready he pulled Skinner's hand into himself before the sensations became too intense.

"A moment, boy?"

"Yes, Sir," Mulder gasped, his lungs burning for air, as he stared at this plugged ass. Skinner's biceps bulged as he held still.

"Good?"

"Oh, yes, Sir," Mulder cried.

"More?"

"Oh, yes, please, Sir."

"Deep breath, boy, pull my arm inside."

"Yes, Sir," Mulder whispered joyously, working his internal muscles as Skinner gently pushed forward.

"Good boy," Skinner praised, "you have such enthusiasm. Let go and we can take this further than before."

"Yes, Sir."

"Let go, boy," Skinner instructed. "It's the only way to reach this level."

"Yes, Sir," Mulder replied dreamily. He had a goal, one that would allow him some measure of success. Skinner's elbow. It seemed only a short time ago that he learned to take Skinner's wrist. "It feels so good, Sir."

"I know, boy," Skinner declared smugly.

"Ummm," Mulder groaned, his eyes closed, his mind filled only with the sensations Sir was providing, a sense of intimacy that he could only achieve this way.

"Find your space, boy," Skinner encouraged. "Let it go, all of it. Give up the demons."

"Yes, Sir." Mulder tried to lift his hips but the binding was too strong. Skinner had never been this deep before and Mulder was drowning in the superb feelings.

"Would you like to come, boy?"

"Yes. No. Can't," Mulder responded as Skinner's finger played along the length of the bound cock.

"Do you feel it, boy? My hands in you and on you, controlling you."

"Can't, "Mulder thrashed under the assault, pain added to the equation as his cock filled. He worked to scream but his voice had deserted him.

"Look, boy. Watch yourself."

The pain and pleasure exploded together, searing Mulder, making him float, his body below him. Skinner's arm buried inside the tender flesh, the power of an orgasm building until there was a flash of white light that blurred into nothing.

* * * * * *

"Welcome back, boy," Skinner greeted with an evil grin on his face. "You've been gone for a while."

"I..." Mulder stared at a gloveless Skinner who stood beside the sling. "I passed out, Sir."

"After you screamed your head off." Skinner caressed Mulder's hands, which now lay across his chest. "It's a good thing you had already strained your voice or your neighbors would have called the cops.

Mulder stared at himself, his genitals still bound, his legs still chained. "I came, Sir, I know I did."

"You did." Skinner untied the binding around Mulder's cock, then his balls. "Since you couldn't shoot out, you shot inward. Your come is in your bladder."

"But..." The confusion refused to leave Mulder's mind.

"It'll come out," Skinner promised.

"Yes, Sir."

"Let's get your legs down and you out of the sling." Slowly Skinner released the bound limbs. "Can you stand?"

"Ah." Mulder's legs wobbled. "I don't know, Sir."

"Then lean on me." Skinner wrapped his arm around Mulder's waist and walked them out the door.

"I need a shower, Sir," Mulder stated as the Crisco ran down his leg.

Skinner stopped them at the bedroom door. "Boy, you need a bed."

"Sir, the bathroom, please," Mulder pleaded.

"Toilet only," Skinner granted. "I'm too tired to bathe you tonight. I'll diaper you, if you wish."

"No, Sir. I'll deal," Mulder protested as he stood and flushed the toilet. "I can handle the shower by myself."

"Not without permission, boy," Skinner announced as he pushed Mulder to lean over the sink. "I'll clean you, then you can fix me a place to sleep on the sofa until you get a bed."

"Sir, I usually sleep in a chair," Mulder explained.

"Boy, when are you going to learn that this isn't about you?" Skinner used a baby wipe to remove the excess lube. "The bed is for me; you sleep on the floor at my feet."

"Yes, Sir." Mulder enjoyed the tingle in the pit of his stomach; Skinner had never spent the night.

"Let's use some warm water and paper towels." Skinner caressed the bare butt. "I'm ready for bed."

"Yes, Sir," Mulder wanted to shout. "I'll make you as comfortable as possible."

"That will take some doing," Skinner answered as he popped Mulder's ass. "I have chores for you."

"Yes, Sir." Mulder was willing to do most anything.

After tossing the paper towels into the trash, Skinner wrapped his arm back around Mulder and walked them to the living room. "Make my bed, boy. You may have a pillow and blanket for yourself."

"Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir."

Skinner did not remove his arm.

"Oh, Sir," Mulder tried to pull away, "I think I can stand alone, Sir."

After releasing Mulder, Skinner sank down onto the sofa, displaying a nice basket. A very full basket which made Mulder's mouth water.

"Well?" Skinner asked.

"Yes, Sir." Mulder walked gingerly to the hallway closet aware of every sensation in his body, every touch of Skinner's hands. He took the bedding and returned to Skinner.

"Boy." Skinner commanded, "Here. Now." He pointed to the floor between his legs.

"Sir?" Mulder gasped as he stared at Skinner's erection poking out of his open pants.

"Boy, you are not an idiot," Skinner commented dryly. "Do you really need step by step instructions?"

Dropping the linen, Mulder positioned himself between Skinner's thighs, then made eye contact, "Sir?"

"Now, boy. You have earned the privilege to pleasure me," Skinner grinned.

"Yes, Sir." Mulder returned the smile, wondering how his raw throat would handle the task, then decided he didn't care. "May I remove your pants, Sir?"

"That's not what this is about," Skinner sighed.

"Sir, if I've truly earned the privilege to pleasure you, then allow me to do it properly. This is not a glory hole at some tea room, and speed is not essential to please." He ran a fingertip over the hard shaft. "But comfort can be, and there's no way you can be comfortable like that."

"Fine, boy," Skinner groaned as he pushed himself upright. "Take care with the pants. Any damage and I take it out of your hide."

"Yes, Sir." Mulder slowly peeled the thin, well-worn soft leather down Skinner's long legs. Again he wondered where Skinner had acquired them. And when, since it was obvious the pants were not new.

When he had removed the pants, the boots and socks, Mulder folded the pants and placed them gently on a chair. Then he spread a sheet over the sofa and nudged Skinner to sit down.

Skinner had been aroused for some time Mulder judged as he fondled the hard flesh. He had wanted this for a long time. Licking his lips, Mulder took the head in his mouth, savoring the taste.

Skinner jerked his hips and moaned.

Mulder grinned as he worked more of the hard flesh into his mouth. It was going to take some effort to make this last. Apparently the activities of the evening had had an affect on Skinner, just as they had on Mulder. He slid his right hand down to cup Skinner's balls and noted the positive result.

Skinner lifted his hips upward.

Quickly licking a finger, Mulder sucked harder, pulling the thick cock deep into his throat. While thoroughly enjoying the flesh in his mouth, Mulder breathed deeply of the sweat and leather, filling his head with Skinner. It was a powerful presence. When Skinner began to tremble, Mulder pressed his finger against Skinner's tight pucker.

"No!" Skinner screamed as he shot his load down Mulder's throat.

Mulder tightened his grip on Skinner's legs after moving his finger from a most sensitive spot. His elation grew as he maintained his hold on the softening cock, enjoying the taste in his mouth that mingled with the remaining taste of Skinner's piss.

"Boy," Skinner panted, his head back, his mouth open.

"Sir?" Mulder managed without releasing his prize.

"You do that very well, even if you take liberties you haven't been granted."

Mulder held eye contact for a moment, then bowed his head.

"Release me," Skinner ordered.

Sighing with the loss, Mulder replied, "Yes, Sir," then sat back on his heels. "I thought only to pleasure you, Sir."

"You did, boy," Skinner smiled, "but next time there will be a list of rules."

Next time, Sir," Mulder struggled to contain his excitement. "I trust you will allow me to further pleasure you, Sir, by allowing me to rim your sensitive hole. Sir, I have a very talented tongue."

"Yes, boy, you do," Skinner's smile faded, "but I am very tired. Cover me with a blanket."

"Yes, Sir." Mulder removed Skinner's glasses and placed them safely on the desk top, then he placed a pillow under the man's head and draped a blanket over the nude form.

"Sleep, boy; you have many tasks awaiting you tomorrow."

"Yes Sir," Mulder replied as he again knelt down and waited until Skinner dropped into sleep. He then leaned forward and touched his lips to Skinner's bald head. "Yes, Sir."

After turning out the one remaining lamp, Mulder placed his pillow near the sofa close to Skinner's feet. Before draping his own nude body in a blanket, Mulder took Skinner's pants, which he held closely to his chest as he lay on the hard floor.

Smelling Skinner, leather, sex, and sweat, Mulder drifted safely into sleep, afraid for the moment, of nothing except displeasing Sir.

* * * * * * end * * * * * *