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Chapter 3
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ISU offices
Quantico, VA
Jan. 17
3:14 a.m.
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Patterson had entered easily with Mike's key card, finding the familiar workplace set up quite differently than he had had it. Still the same furniture, of course - government budgets and all, he thought - but everything seemed to be in new places.

"Why can't people just keep things the way they are?" he wondered aloud as he set about to get everything ready. People are never satisfied with the way things are, he answered himself in his mind.

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Mulder's apartment
3:37 a.m.
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After a few short minutes feeding himself and facing temptation with the Home Shopping Club's late-night Bargain-a-Thon, Skinner had returned to the bedroom where his lover was trussed, carefully avoiding letting his presence known. He had left the TV going, hoping Mulder would believe he was still there, casually enjoying a private break from their activities.

During this time, both in the living room and seated in the chair next to the bed, Skinner had valiantly resisted the further temptation of jacking himself off. He did, however, stroke the area around his member, teasing himself, just lightly enough to excite further without inviting an orgasm. Not wanting to betray his presence, Walter held back sounds that would evidence his own desire as he bathed in the sight and sounds of Mulder's private arousal. Still, Skinner thought, he was not going to allow the game to end until he'd received a blow job worthy of his efforts.

When Mulder seemed near exhaustion from straining to remain in the kneeling position Skinner had placed him in, Walter quietly got up from his chair and padded over to the doorway. Creating obvious sounds of his presence by turning the doorknob, letting the door hit the wall, and coughing lightly.

Skinner saw Mulder turn his head slightly toward the door as Walter approached him and gently kissed his lips. Then he slowly released Mulder from the bonds anchoring him to the bed, but planned to leave the cuffs and body harness on while he surveyed Mulder's condition. He made sure the butt plug was still firmly in place.

Finally freeing Mulder of the tethers, Skinner helped him lay face down again on the mattress. Knowing the younger man would be cramped, he expertly massaged Mulder's arm, leg and back muscles.

"Thank you, Sir," Mulder said, his voice roughened and tight from emotion and lack of use. Skinner sighed with practiced, infinite patience. "What were you instructed?" Skinner's voice was loving but firm, like a schoolmaster correcting an errant student.

Mulder thought a moment. "Don't say a word, without your permission, or you'll gag me." Mulder's full lips tensed closed, and he pressed his face harder into the mattress.

Skinner ran his fingers through Mulder's hair. "That's right, young man. And you were warned not once, but twice. I'm very disappointed in you. Now, I'll give you a choice: shall we continue, and this will be your lesson, or would you rather sleep now and we'll take up this matter at another time?"

Mulder took in a deep breath, considering this. "I would like to learn from this now, Sir," was his decision.

"All right then," Skinner said, going to the duffel bag on the floor and selecting a pear-shaped ball gag. "Get up and stand beside the bed. Hands at your sides. Tell me if you can't."

Mulder managed to raise his sore body up off the bed and into the prescribed stance, but was a bit unsteady on his feet.

Skinner gave him time to recover or reconsider, busying himself with looking though the bag and picking out a few more items. Then he took each of Mulder's cuffed wrists and tied the laces of each to rings embedded on each side of the belt Mulder wore. Mulder's hands were again immobilized, his elbows sticking out slightly from his waist.

Mulder heard Walter leave the room again for a minute, presumably to arrange things in another part of the apartment. Finally, his lover stood directly in front of him.

"I believe your insubordination deserves more than a gag, and I should have some compensation," Skinner said at last, piquing Mulder's curiosity. "I think before I fill your mouth with this," Skinner indicated by pressing the hard rubber ball into Mulder's chest, "I will fill it with *me*."

Mulder swallowed hard, knowing what the next step would be, and moistened his lips again.

"On your knees, and open your mouth," Skinner ordered, guiding Mulder by a handle on the front of the harness, gently pulling down to prompt Mulder to kneel in the middle of the open space of carpet a few feet out from the bed.

Mulder knelt, opened his mouth and waited.

Skinner grasped the back of Mulder's head, grabbing a handful of hair, and brought Mulder's widely parted lips to encompass his own erection. Skinner shuddered with pleasure as the velvety texture of Mulder's palate caressed his length. He held himself fully into Mulder, tip touching the back of Mulder's throat, until Mulder struggled slightly for breath.

He pulled himself partway out of Mulder's warm mouth, looking down as Mulder quietly took in air through his nose. "Time you worked for your keep, Boy," Skinner said to the man below him, easing his grip almost imperceptibly.

Given more reign to move, Mulder eagerly devoured him, sucking with gusto at first, then working with the hard, rhythmic thrusts Skinner had begun.

Panting gasps soon took over Skinner's body, as he closed his eyes and turned his face up to the ceiling. His hand grew more urgent in its pushing and pulling of hair and scalp, Mulder's cooperation being perfectly timed with his need. Walter stood stock still as the man below him, who proved to be a very hungry boy indeed, did everything he could to pleasure him.

"Mulder," he exclaimed breathlessly, shakily, as he repeatedly and simultaneously rammed into the head he held with one hand and caressed the silky hair on that head with the other hand.

Having waited for most of the night for this, it was not long before Skinner's orgasm shot furiously into Mulder's throat, giving the recipient a challenge to swallow it all without choking. Skinner almost fell over the man on the floor as he slowly pulled out, gasping for breath, his cock still quite firm but beginning to grow flaccid again.

Skinner knelt down directly in front of Mulder and wrapped his arms around the other man's shoulders in unspoken thanks. Mulder, also wordless, with hands still bound at his sides and blindfold still rendering him sightless, greedily ran his tongue out as far as it would reach to catch what liquid had escaped his throat. Kissing Mulder's ear first, Skinner went to help his lover clean up his face and mouth with his own lips and his own tongue.

Once recovered enough to continue, Skinner stood up again, knowing it was time to finish Mulder off once and for all. He also needed to keep his promise to correct him for speaking out of turn.

"Now, Boy, don't think I've forgotten you. Time for you to be plugged at *both* ends."

Still kneeling, tasting the last of Skinner's cum, Mulder himself had forgotten what was his due. Before he could become more aroused at the prospect, Skinner's hand came from behind him to force his jaw open again, and he felt the hard rubber form shoved roughly into his mouth, filling it as completely as Skinner's cock had moments earlier.

Muffled sounds of protest escaped around the obstruction, and Skinner paused to check on his victim. "You remember our signals?"

"Mmpfh!" and a definite nod from Mulder.

Skinner smiled, enjoying the muffled sound Mulder made, the childlike eagerness with which Mulder still played the game. He knew Mulder's eyes would be bright underneath the black cloth that covered them. "All of them?"

Mulder nodded even harder and made another muffled sound of assent.

They shared a total of four physical signals, in addition to the safe word. The use of any one of these would make the game end if Mulder was in trouble. Mulder was to use the first signal, but if he was unable to do that for whatever reason, he was to move on to the next signal and so forth. Skinner kept close watch at times like this, when Mulder was at risk and especially vulnerable.

Satisfied by Mulder's response, Skinner continued.

Straps attached to the gag were brought behind Mulder's head and buckled at the nape of his neck. The shape of the gag allowed Mulder to close his lips almost completely around the narrow end, but the larger bulk inside kept his tongue pressed firmly down. Although he could move his tongue enough to swallow, the rubber filled his mouth so that he could not pull his tongue back or up enough to either choke or produce more than a feeble grunt.

Another grunt is what Skinner got as he reached his arms around Mulder from behind, through the triangles formed by Mulder's trapped hands at his sides, and lifted him to his feet again. He knew it would be nearly impossible for Mulder to walk with the anal plug still inserted, so he had devised a solution for transport.

Skinner had considered simply taking the plug out and putting a collar and leash on Mulder for the next stage of their play, but decided he preferred the closer, skin-to-skin manhandling that would be required to get his "pet" to where he had set things up. Grasping Mulder's right forearm in his own left hand, then wrapping his own right arm around Mulder's right leg, Skinner grunted as he hoisted Mulder over both shoulders.

Mulder felt himself becoming a bit disoriented as he was carried out of the room and down the hall like the carcass of lion on the back of a lion hunter. Finally, he was gently deposited back on his feet as Skinner placed him at the next spot in his plans.

Although he was slightly confused by the blindfold and the unconventional method of his relocation, Mulder knew his own apartment well enough to ascertain that he was now standing in the center of his living room. He puzzled at the identity of the piece of furniture he had been pushed into, because there was normally nothing where he thought he was standing.

He recognized it when he was firmly shoved forward to lay his chest and stomach over the top: it was the high, narrow table his mother had given him recently when she had redecorated her own house - the type that would have fit nicely behind his couch, if he didn't have to keep his couch against the wall in his narrow apartment. Although it was good quality, he didn't really like the table; it reminded him too much of the past. Still, he hadn't wanted to upset his mother by turning the rare gift down. He had immediately stuck it in his entryway, where it didn't fit either, serving mainly as a place to put his keys and wallet. He had planned to give it to Scully, who had more space.

/Good choice, Walt/, he mentally commended, as he rested one side of his face on the highly-polished wood.

Walter had gone to work at unlacing Mulder's cuffs from his sides and reattaching them under the intricately-shaped crossbar that joined the two front table legs for added strength near the bottom.

The table fit Mulder well. The top was exactly as wide as his shoulders, and positioned as he was, he could be fastened down hand and foot and still not have to hang his head over the edge. Being allowed - for the time being - to keep his feet flat on the floor at the other end, Mulder's long body still was not as long as the table, and his arms had to be stretched forward to connect his wrist laces to the wooden joints below.

Finished with containing Mulder's arms, Skinner moved to do the same with Mulder's ankles, using the strong laces on those cuffs to attach each ankle to either joint of wood. His feet were lifted up and his knees pushed out to hug the sides of the table. Mulder just hoped this new addition to their games would withstand the full force of his 170 pounds and then some, if he had guessed correctly of what Skinner intended. But, knowing Skinner, he had tested it out himself and it had passed muster. A chuckle escaped around Mulder's gag as he imagined Skinner kneeling on all fours on top of the table, bouncing up and down to be sure it wouldn't collapse.

"Something funny?" Skinner asked, just finishing with Mulder's legs and standing up again.

Feeling brazen and fresh from the night's activities, Mulder grunted something that sounded amazingly like "Uh-huh" past the rubber ball in his mouth, and nodded his head toward where Skinner's voice had come.

"Let's see how funny you think what I'm going to do to you is." With that, Skinner tossed a leather strap across Mulder's back.

For a moment, Mulder thought he was going to get a whipping for simply making noise with the gag in his mouth. That would have been an unprecedented consequence in their games; although the "no sounds" rule had not been revoked, it was their unspoken understanding that once he was gagged, his protests and grunts and cries - even the occasional cocky response, like he had just given Skinner - would go unpunished, or met with only a crisp slap of a palm on one buttcheek. He had learned that Walter particularly enjoyed hearing his muffled little noises. Part of Fox's "show". However, Mulder soon realized what he thought was a menacingly wide strop was actually the long leather belt that had secured him to the headboard, and that Skinner meant to use it to strap him down more firmly to the table top.

Always enjoying giving Skinner a challenge at this stage of the game - although at this point he knew he would be unable to extricate himself even if Skinner decided to abandon him until sunup - Mulder took advantage of the slight amount of leverage he had from his bent knees and pushed up, acting as if he were trying to avoid being further restrained. His still-rigid, still-harnessed cock bumped firmly into the edge of the table as he struggled forward, making the attached thongs dig deeper between his spread cheeks and tug back and forth at the large butt plug that still filled him. He found the sensations painfully delicious, and struggled all the harder, almost forgetting he was playing "escape" with Skinner.

Amused at this, Skinner kept his voice in a controlled monotone as he chastised Mulder for his lack of self-control. "Now, now, my boy, none of that," he said as he gave Mulder a deserved smack on the rear with his open palm, grasped both handles on the lower back of Mulder's harness, and pulled him back so the tops of his hipbones were braced against the table's edge again.

Keeping one hand gripped around a handle while Mulder continued to squirm, Skinner managed to wrap the long strap three times around Mulder and the table - just under his rib cage, across his shoulder blades, and finally over his turned head, covering the upturned ear with leather and pinning the other ear firmly down on the wood - before twisting the two ends around the tops of opposite table legs so they could go one last time diagonally over Mulder's back, to be cinched with no slack and then buckled.

Mulder didn't think he'd ever been so completely immobilized before. Only his hands and toes could find motion. For several minutes he lay there, testing the restraints and finding not a bit of give anywhere.

Then he suddenly realized he had not heard Skinner say a word since he had begun lashing him down, and had not sensed Skinner nearby since he had finished fastening the buckle. No longer playing "trying to escape", Mulder felt panic set in. A valiant fight to free himself proved futile.

Worst of all, he remembered his signals, used each one in turn, and still got no response. Mulder was screaming into the gag now, pulling at the strong tethers that held his arms to the table legs, feeling like his muscles would tear with the strain he was exerting.

As suddenly as he had begun them, Mulder ceased his efforts and heaved a sigh of relief at the sound of solid, heavy footsteps approaching him, sounds dulled to Mulder's pressed and covered ears, but still audible. /Walter, I swear, I'm gonna kill you when I get out of this,/ he promised, a little embarrassed for having frightened so easily, but still furious that Skinner would leave him alone when he was gagged and completely helpless.

Mulder was too shocked to resume his struggles when he realized the producer of the footsteps was not Skinner. He recognized the self-assured, arrogant voice immediately.

"Well, what do you know," Patterson said when he had reached the table where Mulder lay. The intruder slipped the blindfold off Mulder's face and leaned over so the ready-made captive could get a good look. "I come all the way here, expecting to have you put up a fight, and here you are, ready and waiting for me." He then walked around to where Mulder's legs were spread before him and caressed the pale roundness of flesh.

Mulder fought the ties some more, angrily letting Patterson know with his efforts at vocalization that his touch was not welcome.

Patterson ignored Mulder's noise, focusing instead on the younger man's furious attempts to free himself. "Don't bother; you can't get out by yourself."

Mulder felt his former mentor hook a finger under the straps running between Mulder's legs, tugging at them roughly a few times and sending a chain reaction of sharp pain down to the tender flesh enveloping the attached anal plug, and onward to Mulder's cock and balls, still confined by the leather band around the shaft and the attached cords surrounding his balls. Objects which still forced him to maintain an erection, despite his terror and revulsion, and at the same time prevented him from release. Mulder thought he might actually choke this time as he screamed into the ball gag, straining to lift his head, despite the strap than held his skull fast to the hard wood.

Patterson chuckled at the power over Mulder he had so unexpectedly been handed. "Your new boss was very thorough, Mulder. Yes, he did a fine job here. Now I'm taking over."

Quietly weeping from the torture he'd just been put through, Mulder managed to make a muffled, questioning sound. Patterson knew exactly what the question was.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about him walking in on us, Son," Patterson said, feigning a reassuring tone and patting Mulder's thigh. "But you might want to toss out that rug in your kitchen; it's going to have a nasty stain."

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Continued in chapter 4.