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Chapter 2
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Mulder's apartment
Jan. 17 (same day)
1:32 a.m.
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Skinner sighed to himself - low enough, he hoped, so Mulder couldn't hear - and got out of bed. He walked slowly around the foot of the bed so as not to bump into anything in the early-morning darkness; then more confidently across the open stretch of carpet to the closet, sliding open the left side and pulling the chain to turn on the bare overhead bulb. He reached into one corner and dragged out a large, army green canvas duffel bag that was stored there on the carpeted floor.

This was where they kept Mulder's "toys". Another word that Skinner had come to adopt as his own, lacking a better descriptor. Still not saying anything since assenting to Mulder's request, Skinner brought the bag closer to the bed, shoving it against the dresser, and unzipped the opening.

Mulder had sat up in the middle of the mattress while Skinner had gone for their equipment; now he had his legs crossed "Indian-style", hands resting where his shins crossed each other, looking amazingly like a puppy begging to be let in from the cold.

Skinner looked down into Mulder's waiting eyes one last time before beginning the game. He would make sure he asserted his position as "top", even if it was only for a game.

"You think you can have everything you want, the way you want it and when you want it, don't you, Mulder?" Skinner asked angrily, finding just the right tone of voice in his first line. Mulder stared at him, dumbfounded with Walter's abrupt transformation. "Don't you, Boy?" Skinner repeated with even more ire when his question wasn't answered.

"Yes, Sir," Mulder replied quietly, barely managing to hide a smile, delighted that the game had begun in earnest. "I'm sorry, Sir," he added, casting his eyes down to his hands.

Skinner took Mulder's chin roughly in one hand, lifting his head back at an uncomfortable angle, forcing Mulder's gaze exactly where he wanted it. "You are going to serve *me* tonight, Boy. If you fail to comply with my wishes, you will be punished." He saw the glint of excitement in Mulder's eyes, and a hint of response in his lover's groin. "Now. On your stomach, legs and arms out," he commanded coldly.

Mulder did as told, stretching his arms and legs to the four corners of the double mattress, face turned away from the man standing over him, cheek pressed into the pillow below him.

Walter pulled the covers all the way off to pile them on the carpet at the foot of the bed. Then he moved back to the bag, pulling out a blindfold. "Head up", he ordered, making it easier for him to place the black band of cloth over Mulder's eyes. Mulder would find some surprises tonight, Skinner determined, already feeling enthusiasm for planning what was to come. He was no longer one bit sleepy.

Mulder's feet nearly reached the bottom of the bed, his legs spread wide so his toes hung off the edges of the firm mattress. The position caused his ass cheeks to tense and part slightly, invitingly.

Beautiful, Walter thought, but not wide enough. He smiled to himself as he tossed various items from the crate to land in strategic locations around the room; most fell around where Mulder lay on the bed.

Mulder heard each item drop, wondering with each "plop" what the object was and where the next one would land. Something fell across his back; he could feel a soft leather strap of some sort, but he couldn't tell what exactly it was - a restraint or a strop. Other items fell in the triangle of mattress between his legs, and others at his sides. He resisted showing a reaction as items landed on or near him, but his resolve betrayed him as his now-hypersensitive body jerked slightly at the occasional sound or sensation.

Having deployed his equipment and formulated a plan, Skinner first went to each corner of the bed, lifting each of Mulder's wrists and ankles up in turn to fasten thick, wide leather cuffs around them. Each cuff had sturdy rings on two sides to attach chains or tethers later, when Skinner saw fit.

That done, he moved soundlessly to the end of the bed, where Mulder's splayed feet gave him a tempting view. The buttock and hamstring muscles of the younger man before him were taut and firm, begging to be nuzzled. Holding back from launching an attack on his lover at that moment, Skinner instead reached out to firmly grab each of Mulder's ankles, grasping them just above each cuff. Without warning, he quickly pulled Mulder a full ten inches closer to him and the end of the bed.

Mulder let out a muffled and surprised cry as the sudden motion caused his burgeoning erection to scrape against the rough percale fitted sheet below him. His growing penis was now pressed in flat against his stomach, its head pushing in at his navel. The skin of his scrotum was pulled up with his prick, making his balls hug tightly to his groin. His ass felt like it would rip apart if Skinner were to force his legs a hair's breadth further apart. He also felt deliciously exposed, and the tingling between his legs increased as he laid in wait for Skinner's next move. Mulder tried to shift to a more comfortable position, but Skinner's iron grasp on his ankles prevented him from finding relief.

Just as quickly as he had jerked Mulder forward, Skinner placed each ankle against the outside of each end post at the foot of the bed, the other man's legs drawing in tight against the wood, as if of their own volition. Skinner then began lashing the first ankle to the frame with a tether pulled through one of the rings on the cuff.

Once finished securing both legs, Skinner knelt on the bed between Mulder's thighs. He put his right palm down to stroke the soft skin of Mulder's firm ass. "You are to say nothing unless it is to show your appreciation, or in answer to my questioning. You are to make no movement unless it is to give me pleasure, or by my command," he instructed.

Mulder, who had been moaning softly and shifting slightly from side to side, testing his bonds, froze in place and immediately became silent, holding his breath to follow his master's directions completely. More than completely. After a few moments he could no longer keep this up, and let the air seep out soundlessly into the pillow below him. Still, he kept close attention to his own steady, quiet breathing, striving to please Skinner as much as he could with his obedience.

Walter watched Mulder's compliance for a full minute, impressed with his lover's efforts. But, he knew, this was just the beginning.

"Butt in the air, hands behind your back," Skinner said at last.

This command was a complete surprise to Mulder. He had never doubted that Skinner would tie him spreadeagled to the four corners of the bed. That was how he had positioned himself. That was what he wanted. His disappointed pause was only for a moment, his exhalation barely audible, but Skinner noticed both.

"Stop there," Skinner said when Mulder had pushed himself up on all fours. Mulder froze again, anticipating Skinner's correction. The prone man's only movement was to lick his lips, trying to moisten them with what little saliva he had left in his suddenly dry mouth.

Skinner watched in delight as Mulder's genitals wobbled and bobbed from stopping so suddenly in response to his direction.

"You have forgotten your place, Boy," Skinner told his lover as he reached into the duffel and grasped the handle of a hard wooden paddle; the blade was perfectly flat and rectangular, but smoothed at the edges, about two feet long by one foot wide, with several holes drilled into it to allow air to pass through, and to add an ominous sound to the effects of each stroke.

Skinner let Mulder's exposed rear feel the cool, smooth surface of the paddle to know what was coming. "Because you need to learn that your wishes are immaterial here, you will receive eight strokes. One stroke for each inch of my prick, which should be your only concern." Skinner almost chuckled at his own dramatics. /Jeez, I can be cocky, can't I?/ he marvelled, grinning, knowing Mulder couldn't see his out-of-character expression with the blindfold applied.

Skinner took a deep breath to bring back his serious tone for Mulder. "You may count the strokes aloud." He knew this would help him determine if the punishment became too severe. Even though they shared a safe word - one which Mulder had stubbornly never used - as well as safe signals for when Mulder could not speak, Skinner always wanted to be sure their games weren't going too far. After all, *he* was the one in control.

Mulder's counting was steady on the first four licks, although he did have to gasp to get each one out, and took a deep breath in preparation for the fifth. By then, both of Mulder's cheeks had a rosy glow - always one for symmetry, Skinner stood behind Mulder and alternated sides, so Mulder had received two strokes for each bum. Skinner made the fifth swat as hard as he could, just to throw in some variety.

Mulder's voice squeaked counting "five". Going into the home stretch, the last three came fast but not as hard as the first few. Mulder barely had time enough to take a steadying breath after counting each out aloud.

His discipline completed, Mulder caught his breath as he awaited Skinner's next directive.

"Now, kneel as I told you, Boy," Skinner said after a full minute watching Mulder's heaving breath, watching the full redness arise on Mulder's skin. Feeling his own excitement build at the exertion of it all. He also appreciated Mulder's stalwart compliance, the motions and sounds subtly designed to please Skinner.

Mulder wobbly arranged himself into the required posture. He barely let his chest touch the bed to balance himself, trying to be graceful in his awkward display. He kept his shoulders and arm muscles tense as he strained to keep his hands behind him, untethered leather cuffs still encircling his wrists, knowing Walter liked the soft definition of his arms and shoulders. His rear wiggled seductively at the man behind him.

Skinner nearly laughed aloud at this before moving off to his left, pulling a chair out of the corner to station himself three feet from the dresser side of the bed. He hummed softly as he watched the man posing and squirming and sighing on the bed; tried to make it seem like he had the entire weekend to play the game. Which he did, he remembered with a slight smile.

Still blindfolded, Mulder nevertheless placed his head on the mattress to face where Skinner sat, imagining how his Sir was reacting to his performance.

Skinner, glad for the blindfold's role in hiding him from Mulder's view, recognized this ploy and casually got up and strode, again, to the foot of the bed. He picked up his next implements. Reaching under Mulder to squeeze his lover's firm erection, eliciting a gasp of surprise, he then reached down for the sac hanging close behind. He gently cupped and caressed it for a few moments. Then, just as suddenly, he grasped the scrotum and pulled it backward until Mulder cried out.

"Oh, my God...!" came the pained response.

"Keep that up, Boy, and I'll have to gag you," Skinner informed the man in front of him. "Understand?"

"Yes, Sir...you'll gag me," came Mulder's breathless squeak of a reply. The younger man was breathing heavily, anticipating the threatened consequence.

Left hand still pulling Mulder's balls taut, Skinner used his right hand to slip an adjustable leather cock ring down Mulder's shaft, and then to loop the attached harness around Mulder's sac. This harness, constructed by Mulder to fit him perfectly, was secured to a thick leather belt to buckle firmly around Mulder's waist; straps went up from the belt and over his shoulders like suspenders, crossing over his chest and back in an "X" with a large metal ring at the center of each cross, connecting to both the front and back of the belt. Two more sturdy latex straps that went underneath - one with a hole for fitting in an anal plug, and another to go over the first strap and to hold the hard rubber intrusion deep in place.

Skinner carefully fastened all this on Mulder, who could not help but groan as their longest and thickest butt plug was slowly worked into his stretched hole. Bringing the ends of the latex straps up to the small of Mulder's back, he pulled them to press tightly into Mulder's crack before attaching them to their rightful places on the belt.

The suspender straps were carefully adjusted to cross snugly over Mulder's chest and back, and to help keep the harness from loosening or riding down even the slightest bit. Four leather handles on both front and back of the suspenders - two parallel with his nipples, two even with his navel, with matching handles on the backside, eight in total - made it easy for Skinner to pull Mulder into position whenever they played, or to provide more tethering points.

Skinner's next job was to secure Mulder's hands, which the younger man still held faithfully behind him. For this, Skinner chose two lengths of half-inch-thick chain with quick-release clips on each end only he could operate, attaching them to the outside loops on the metal cuffs. Once attached, he carefully grabbed Mulder by the elbows and lifted him upright, still kneeling, but now no longer able to support his top half on the bed.

Holding on to the chains that hung from each cuff, Skinner pulled them back and to each side so that Mulder's arms were crossed behind him, midway between the cuffs and the elbows. Skinner looped the end of each chain around the opposite end post of the footboard, where Mulder's ankles were also restrained, connecting the clips to a link in each chain just high up enough to pull Mulder's shoulders back and to cause his chest to strain.

Finally, Skinner got up onto the bed to kneel in front of Mulder. He looked closely at the blindfolded man's face, watching the tension in Mulder's jaw and the flush of blood just below the surface the skin at Mulder's throat and chest. The tendons in Mulder's neck and shoulders stood out, pectorals stretched and firm, and abdominals at full definition. Mulder still said nothing, breathing hard through his nose, gritting his teeth and shaking slightly from the position he'd been put in.

/My God, I'm a lucky man/, Skinner thought as his appreciative eyes took in the sight of the beautiful body in front of him, there for him alone.

Tearing himself out of his reverie, satisfied with Mulder's reaction to the situation he'd been put in, Skinner made one last adjustment. He picked up a strong strap - one that looked like a giant's belt, 30 feet of three-inch wide leather with a two-pronged buckle at one end and double eye holes along most of its length - from where it had lain on the mattress all this time. Skinner passed one end through the two handles on the straps across Mulder's chest, then brought this longer belt forward to draw it around the two centermost slats of the headboard.

Threading the belt back toward Mulder, Skinner wrapped it around his chest just under the armpits, around and through the top two handles, the unfinished side scraping against Mulder's erect nipples, passing once again over Mulder's back; then Skinner brought it through the headboard a second time, higher than the other loop, finally joining both ends. Skinner brought the opposite end through the buckle and then tugged on it until Mulder's formerly tense jaw dropped open to take in more air. Skinner's sign that the belt was sufficiently tight. He then inserted the twin prongs into the appropriate holes and laced the loose end through the thin strip of leather behind the buckle.

The intricate lacing of the long strap around Mulder that twisted him forward, in counterbalance to the opposite direction his legs and arms were secured, was as much a precaution for Skinner as a turn-on for Mulder. It gave the very real sensation of being pulled in two directions at once, something Skinner knew Mulder adored - while, more importantly, ensuring that Mulder could not possibly fall backward and do real damage to himself if he lost his balance.

The entire contraption, Skinner knew, would give Mulder a painful strain on his genitals - especially if he would be so impetuous as to try to move an inch. Beginning their scene by rendering Mulder virtually immobile, in constant discomfort and tension, and a string's pull away from both pleasure and pain, Skinner had set the stage for the rest of the night and re- established both partners' roles in this game, in no uncertain terms.

Skinner surveyed all Mulder's trappings to satisfy himself that each was adequately secure and that Mulder would be safe, yet tortured, in this position. He pulled here and there on strap, harness, and chain, testing the effect of his hard work and inventiveness and being rewarded with a variety of moans, groans, gasps, and the occasional squeak from his helpless victim.

Left in total darkness by the blindfold and forbidden to speak on threat of further punishment, legs spread wide and immobile, arms pulled to their limit behind him, torso tethered forward like an archer's bow, throbbing genitals excruciatingly trussed and stretched, and anus stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey, Mulder knew he was now totally at his lover's mercy. He revelled in it, and on whatever Skinner had dreamed up for him next.

Tired and hungry from all his activity, Skinner took one last look and left the room, heading down the hall.

All Mulder could hear was the refrigerator door open, the clink of a beer bottle being removed, the hiss of a bottle being opened, and then muffled voices coming from the TV.

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Continued in chapter 3.