Hi

This is chapter one of a new AU.  I know!  I know! The Fresh Start boys are 
supposed to be on their way to the island again and you want to know what 
happens there.  And I know that Spirit of Fun was a cliffhanger - I've 
gotten the death threats not to take so long this time - and I also know 
that I promised a couple of you a new Vince story. . .

But you see, it's Easter Sunday and I'm the Mama so that means I have to do 
the cooking.  Now, my children think I like nothing better than having them 
all gathered in our house for a big family meal.  They think I love to cook. 
  They think I don't mind in the least the big mess that it all makes.  THEY 
ARE DELUSIONAL.  Wonderful, bright, and completely lovable---but 
nonetheless, delusional.  I do love them with all my heart, and I do love 
seeing them but...I don't want to cook and clean all day, I want to write 
smut.  So while the ham is baking, I wrote this story.  I't for you but it's 
also for me.  I love  AU stories.  And . . .

I suggest you like it, too.  Trust me, you don't want to mess with a Mama 
who's been forced to cook.

DiAnn

The Cabin Boy Chapter 1

Rating: NC17 - SLASH/ language

Category: Pure Trash /Discipline / m/m Slash/ AU

Warning:  Mulder / Skinner Slash.

If you don't like this kind of thing, or you are underage, go
somewhere else . . .  Please!  I don't want to hear from
you and I don't want to hear from your Mama.

Spoiler: Not in this chapter.

Summary: An AU - Handome but possessive pirate captains, lost treasure, and 
pretty, hazel-eyed cabin boys.  Something for everyone!

Disclaimer: I do not, nor ever will, own Mulder, Skinner
or anyone  else from the X-Files.  I am borrowing them without permission 
and am obviously not receiving money for this stuff. We all know who they 
really belong to, CC, Fox and lots of other people but again, not me.

The Cabin Boy
By: DiAnn

Fox Mulder rubbed at his tired eyes, then quickly lowered his head back to 
the ledgers he had to finish before he could crawl into the tiny cot that 
served as his bed.  He looked forlornly around the dreary counting house.  
It was a truly dismal place, lacking either warmth or charm.  He supposed he 
should be appreciative to have even so much as the lumpy cot, many an 
indentured servant spent their nights on nothing more than a blanket lying 
in a cold corner.

He rubbed at his eyes once more, then dipped his quill back into the 
inkwell, hoping that the tiny stub of a candle he had been allowed would not 
gut itself out before he completed his work.  Mr. Blevins would be most 
unhappy should be arrive tomorrow morning to find the ledgers unfinished.

As Fox marked the last number into the last column, and carefully blew out 
the sputtering candle.  He looked up through the only tiny window in the 
small dockside counting house and saw that the moon was well over the 
yardarm.  He would have but a few hours rest before he would once again be 
expected to take his place on this uncomfortable stool and apply his skills 
to Mr. Blevins' account books.  He had been existing in this cheerless life 
for three long years now, and each day was a misery unto itself.

He shivered in the cold night air.  Without the candle's meager light, it 
seemed colder still.  The counting house was unheated and there was an icy 
wind blowing in off the sea tonight, there would be a storm before morning 
no doubt.  Fox wished he had a thicker blanket or perhaps even a warm coat, 
but those were only dreams for a an indentured servant to the likes of Mr. 
Blevins.

Fox rose from his high, wooden stool, stretching his back until he felt a 
few satisfying pops.  He then climbed upon some stacked wooden barrels until 
he could look out the tiny window so high above the floor.  He would have 
loved to go out to stand by the ocean, cold night or not, but he knew the 
door was locked.  It would not be unlocked again until morning.  Yet another 
reason Fox was always so careful with his lighted candle.  Should there be a 
fire, he would be trapped inside the old building.

He leaned his elbows on the window ledge and pretended he could smell the 
ocean instead of the dust and grime of the counting house.  He closed his 
eyes and smiled as he thought of his sweet, little sister back in England.  
Once he had worked off his seven years for Mr. Blevins, he would find a good 
job and then he would be able to save enough money to bring Samantha here to 
America.  Then the two of them would be together once again, free to enjoy 
their mutual love of the sea.  It was a dream he held tight to his sorrowful 
heart, it was all that helped him survive the brutality of his life and his 
master.

Fox left his perch and felt his way through the dark and into the small back 
room that served as his quarters.  His master had given him almost half a 
loaf of bread and a bit of cheese yesterday, but he had been so hungry after 
several days of being without rations,  that now little remained of the 
previous day's bounty.  He sighed as he ate his small meal.  Mr. Blevins had 
pointed out many times the importance of discipline, of making the food last 
until more was given, it just never seemed to happen.  Part of the problem 
was that Fox was never sure exactly how many days there would be between 
each distribution of food, therefore he ended up spending most of his days 
hungry.

He stretched out on his cot and pulled the thin blanket up over his 
shoulders.  He smiled again as he thought of his sister.  He hoped she was 
surviving in the orphanage in which her brother had been forced to leave 
her.  It had seemed a clean enough place and that nice Mrs. Scully, a 
good-hearted, if poor woman.

Fox startled as he heard the rattle of keys as the door to the counting 
house opened.  He sat up on his cot and looked around himself.  It was still 
several hours until dawn.  Mr. Blevins never arrived at the counting house 
this early.

Fox quickly rose from his bed, chipped the ice from the top of the bowl of 
water he used for bathing and splashed the weariness from his face.  As he 
rounded the door that led to the counting house main room, he stopped short. 
  Mr. Blevins and two other well-dressed men were busy lighting the lamps as 
they swayed on their feet, laughing and slurring out bawdy songs.  
Apparently his employer had not made it to his bed yet this night.

"May I be of assistance, sir?"

"May I be of assistance, sir?"  Blevins repeated in a high, mocking tone.  
"You could be of assistance, Fox, but I truly doubt that you will be.  My 
associates wish to see yesterday's ledger.  Where is it?"

"It on my desk, sir."  Fox walked across the room to his desk but the ledger 
was no longer lying on top.  Fox felt absolute panic as
quickly searched all around and under the desk for the missing paperwork.  
It was gone.  He had left it lying there just a few hours ago and now it was 
gone.  He looked up into his master's angry eyes.

"You didn't finish your work, did you Fox?"

"Yes, sir!  I did, sir!  It was right there.  I swear to you that it was."

"Don't lie to me, boy.  You should have no doubts that I know exactly how to 
deal with laziness and disobedience.  Remove your trousers and lay across my 
desk, Fox.  I'm sure you remember the position quite well.  And you might as 
well take off your shirt as well, it will only be in my way."

Fox did indeed remember his last trip across that desk quite well.  He 
glanced nervously at the other two men who stood smirking at him in the 
glare of the many lamps that had been lit in the tiny counting house.  Fox 
couldn't remember the last time it had been so bright in the small building.

"Please sir, I beg you.  Just give me a few minutes and I'm certain I can 
find the missing ledgers."

"Do not play me for a fool, boy!"  Blevins screeched.  "I know you type.  
Shiftless and lazy the lot of you.  Well I won't have it from someone I feed 
and cloth with my own hard-earned gold coin.  I bought you to work, and work 
you will or pay the consequences.  Now bare your impudent backside and bend 
across my desk.  I intend you show my good colleagues just what a 
well-whipped boy looks like."

His stomach heaving, Fox reached for the button on his thin, worn trousers 
with shaking fingers.  He watched his Master take the dreaded cane down from 
the wall behind Fox's desk.  It was a thick, heavy instrument meant to 
inflict the maximum sting to unprotected skin.

Removing his clothing, Fox stretched out across the desk, his face flaming 
in shame that the men should see him naked and about to be beaten.  He 
grabbed the edges of the desk and held on tightly.  It would not do to try 
to protect himself form his master's punishment.  He had learned quickly 
that would just earn him more of the devastating strokes.

He could hear the other two men in the room snicker as he presented himself 
for chastisement.  It was obvious that they were going to enjoy his 
undeserved punishment immensely.

Suddenly Fox knew what had happened to the ledger.  He also knew that he 
would never find the missing documents.  This has all been arranged so that 
Blevins could strip and whip him in front of his friends.

"He's a pretty thing, Scott."  One of the men slurred lustfully, making Fox 
flinch with anxiety.  He hoped these men didn't have further plans for him 
after his caning.  He had never done that with a man and he didn't want to 
start now.

"Yes, pretty but worthless.  Well, all that's all going to change now, boy.  
By the time I'm done with you tonight, you'll finish every chore I give you 
without a word of complaint or a thought of disobedience.  Feet further 
apart, Fox."

Fox swallowed hard.  His master was out to impress his friends.  This was 
going to be very bad.  The switch whistled in the air behind him and Fox 
clenched the muscles in his buttocks in anticipation of the first cut of the 
cane.  The flexible switch continued to whistle as it cut the air behind him 
but no blow fell on his exposed and waiting bottom.  He relaxed.

Without warning a streak of pure fire was painted across his exposed bottom. 
  Fox, who had planned to take the punishment silently, found himself 
screaming out his distress for all to hear.  Blevins paused for a moment as 
Fox lay squirming across the desk, the scarlet welt across his butt 
throbbing in time to every beat of his heart, fat tears rolling unencumbered 
down his smooth cheeks.

One stripe and he had forgotten his vow of silence, his shameful nudity, and 
  the other two men who were witnessing his childish reaction to the 
chastisement.  All he was aware of was the sound of the cane cutting the air 
behind him and his own agonized flesh waiting high in the air for the next 
lick to fall.

Blevins took his time with the tanning of his servant.  Had he possessed a 
conscience, he would have felt badly about the ledger sheets that now 
resided in his inside coat pocket.  He did not, however, suffer from such 
moral pangs.  He cared little for the pretty young man who was suffering so 
terribly under his hand.

The cane rose and fell steadily, each stoke eliciting a cry of agony from 
Fox and a red, raised welt across his once smooth skin.  After a good dozen 
hard strokes, Fox had stopped screaming, reduced to hysterical and desperate 
sobbing as his bottom danced wildly to the tune of his master's biting 
switch.

At the strokes of the horrid switch continued, Fox was all but unconscious, 
his body jerking involuntarily at each new lash, his bottom and thighs 
nothing more than a mass of red, raw welts.

"Perhaps that is enough, Master Blevins," One of the watching men said 
worriedly.  "After all, you did promise us that we could sample his 
considerable charms.  That won't be as enjoyable if the pretty has been 
beaten senseless and doesn't even know what is happening to him."

"That's right," the other man chuckled evilly.  "Every boy should have the 
opportunity to remember the first time he takes a big, hard cock up his 
tight ass."

"I'll be the judge of when he has been punished enough," Blevins panted as 
he brought the cane down yet again on the tortured flesh upturned to him.

"Perhaps you should reconsider that decision, merchant."

The three men turned to see a tall, broad-chested man, dressed in black 
standing in the now open door.  From the plumed hat atop his head to the 
shine of his well-polished boots, to the mask that covered his face – all 
were black.  The man looked lethally dangerous and made no attempt to hide 
that fact from the stunned men who now faced his raised sword.

The newcomer's angry eyes fell to the dazed boy who now lay all but unmoving 
across the desk.  "Do you enjoy whipping and raping children, merchant?"

"He's hardly a child," Blevins sputtered.  "He was well past his twentieth 
year when his papers were sold to me these three years past."

"Do you dare to lie to me, merchant."  The man raised his sword until it 
resting just a few inches from Blevins' throat. "He looks not much past his 
sixteenth year."

"No!  I'm not lying!  He was an overly young face but he is well into his 
manhood.  He is my indentured servant, sir, and in desperate need of my 
guidance.  You need not concern yourself.  I have things well in hand here."

The black-clad man glanced once again at the sleeping face of the tortured 
young man.  "So you do, it would seem."

Without warning, the man whisked off his black hat with such a theatrical 
flare that the very act caused the other three men to recoil in terror.

"It seems I have forgotten my manners, merchant.  Allow me to introduce 
myself.  I am Captain Walter Skinner.  Perhaps you have heard of me or my 
ship, La Chauve Terreur?"  He stopped as the three men gaped at him in 
undisguised horror.  "Ah, I see that my reputation has indeed preceded me.  
Good.  That will make what must happen next easier for you to understand and 
accept."

The man replaced his hat and  let out an ear-shattering whistle.  Before the 
three captive men could blink, the room was filled with the most scruffy and 
blood-thirsty band of pirates they had ever had the misfortune to lay their 
eyes upon.  When they were well and truly surrounded with at lest two dozen 
swords pointed at their throats, Skinner finally lowered his own weapon.

"My good men, these fat merchants have been so kind as to open their 
counting house for us this fine morning.  Relieve it of all of value."

Blevins opened his mouth to protest, but then wisely thought better of it.

"Blackson," the captain ordered, gaining the attention of a tall man with a 
red scarf tied rakishly across one eye.

"Yes, captain."

"Wrap the injured boy in a blanket and hand him to me.  He will be 
accompanying us on our voyage.  I feel assured he will fare better with our 
little band of pirates than with these esteemed civic leaders."

"I can have the men carry him aboard for you, Captain Skinner."

"No," Skinner looked once more at the handsome young man.  "I will take him 
to my cabin personally.  I think it has already been a long day for this 
particular young man.  I don't want him to awaken and find himself being 
hauled onto a ship by a band of motley pirates."

"You can't have him," Blevins screamed.  "I paid good money for him.  He 
belongs to me for four more years."

Skinner raised his sword once more, the sharp point pricking a small cut on 
Blevins' fat chin.  "Have you been beating and raping him for three years 
already?"

‘No.  No, I . . .I . . .well, of course I must discipline him but I haven't 
. . ."

"You haven't raped him?  Why?"

"The business belongs to my wife's father.  If he had found out about any 
dalliance with the boy, he would have relieved me of my position.  He died 
yesterday."

"How convenient for you."  Skinner turned to his men.  Strip them, and 
bloody their backsides, waist to knees, with that cane."  He looked at the 
three men, whose faces were now drained of all color.  "When they have been 
properly whipped, tie them to the stocks at the center of town, naked and 
marked.  Let the good people see just what happens to men who take advantage 
of their wealth and power over those younger and less fortunate than 
themselves."

The pirates made quick work of their task, the three rich merchants 
struggling uselessly as they were stripped of their fine clothing.

"You can't do this!"  Blevins shrieked as he was being dragged across the 
room to take his place bent across his own desk.  His clothing now lying in 
rags at his feet.

The pirate captain held out his massive arms as the still unconscious young 
man was placed gently in his arms.  Skinner frowned when he saw how little 
his burden weighted.

"Have you been starving him as well as whipping him, merchant?"

"I was but thrifty with my investment.  A boy like that can eat his weight 
in costly food if but given the chance.  I made sure that I got my money's 
worth with the least amount of expense.  Surely you understand that is only 
good business?"

"I understand the most vile cruelty when I see it.  Whip them!"

He watched as the three men screamed and withered in agony as the cane came 
down in lightening-quick strikes on their exposed and rapidly scorching 
flesh.  They barely had time to shriek their distress between each 
excruciating stroke of the deadly switch.

"Don't spare that rod, men.  I'll see you back on board.  We set sail before 
the dawn breaks."

The captain turned on his heel and carried his beautiful new cabin boy 
aboard his well-armed pirate ship.

Fox awakened some time later to the gentle, soothing rock of a ship at sea, 
and the most amazing pair of deep, brown eyes he had ever seen.

"How do you feel, little one?"

Mulder was lying face down on a soft, clean bed.  He squirmed a little, and 
his backside exploded in pain.  "Ouch!"

The pirate captain laughed, causing fine lines to appear around his eyes.  
Surprisingly, they made him look years younger.  He rubbed gentle circles on 
the young man's bare back.  "You belong to me now, my beauty.  From now on, 
no one will punish you except me."

Mulder swallowed hard, wondering just what belonging to this man would 
entail.  Then wondering if he really cared.  "All . . .all right."

"You are my new cabin boy.  You will sleep here with me, and you will follow 
my orders without question.  I have grown quite infatuated with as I watched 
you sleeping but you must not let that effect your performance of duties.  I 
can be a hard task master and the penalty for disobedience will be swift and 
painful, and delivered to a part of your body that is feeling most ill-used 
at the moment.  Do you understand, my boy?"

Fox nodded his head, his throat too dry to form words.

"Have you ever had sex with a man?"

This time a shake of the dark head, and a fearful widening of hazel eyes.

"Don't worry, sweetheart.  I won't hurt you more than is necessary, and in 
time, I'm sure you will even come to crave servicing my needs in such a way. 
  There are worse lives than that of a pirate captain's cherished cabin boy. 
  Tell me, boy, how old are you?"

"Tw . . .twenty-three, sir."

"Well, so he wasn't lying.  I wouldn't have believed it."

"I hear that quite often, sir."

"I'm sure you do.  I want you to rest now, Fox.  I've put some healing 
ointment on your backside and it should be feeling much better by the time 
you awaken from your nap.  I've had some food brought in for you."  The 
captain felt another wave of anger as he saw Fox's expressive eyes fly to 
the tray and eye the food hungrily.  He thought about going back ashore to 
further deal with that fat merchant himself.

"After you have eaten and rested, I expect you are to stay in this cabin 
unless I give you my permission to come above.  In time, you will be given 
more freedom on the ship, but for now I want you to become accustomed to the 
crew, and them to you, before you go roaming around by yourself."

Fox gave the captain a long slow blink, not really sure why the crew needed 
to become accustomed to him, but then nodded his head in acceptance.  After 
all, what could be worse than another four years of that bleak counting 
house and Master Blevins?  At least now he was out to sea.

The End - Chapter One

Chapter Two

"You're very beautiful, cabin boy."

Mulder blinked to clear the sleep from his eyes.  This was his fourth day 
aboard the Chauve Terreur and the first that he had awakened feeling no 
pain.

Actually he felt really good.  The captain was not only smiling down at him, 
and his big hand was under the blankets and . . .well, leave it to say, at 
the moment Mulder was feeling very good indeed.

Captain Skinner's mouth came down and covered his cabin boy's in a hot, wet 
kiss.  Mulder's whole body tensed, his eyes wide at the strange sensation of 
another man kissing him.  But then, it just felt so good, and it had been so 
long since anyone had kissed him, and the captain had been so nice to him 
and was so captivating.
The captain pulled the blankets away from Mulder's naked body, his hands and 
lips moving over every inch of smooth, exposed skin.

"You belong to me now, Fox. I well and truly claim you as my own.  When we 
again rise from this bed you will know that you can belong to no one but 
me."

"Are . . .are you . . .is it going to hurt?"

"No, my beautiful boy, I am going to love you.  Trust me, my sweet, and I 
will make you feel things you've never felt before."

Mulder's senses became overwhelmed with all that was happening with his 
body.  The heady delight of hot wet kisses falling on his lips.  The foreign 
but intoxicating sensation of big, slick fingers invading his body.

And then the feeling of fullness as he was taken for the first time.  The 
burn that he hardly had time to acknowledge before the few tears that 
escaped down his cheeks were being kissed away and he was once more swept up 
in a sea of incredible passion.

He was vaguely aware of his own screams as he found release, and the echo of 
the captain's cries as he found his own pleasure.  Then he was being held.  
Being held like some precious treasure that the captain valued above all 
other.  Being held, and kissed, and gently caressed until he fell into a 
sound and satiated sleep.

When he woke alone in the bed a few hours later, he was still smiling.

* * *
Mulder raised his face up toward the sun, rejoicing to the feel of its heat 
and the wind whipping through his hair.  It was difficult to put into 
thought, much less words, just how wonderful it was to be at sea instead in 
that dreary, dusty counting house.

after Captain Skinner had left the cabin this morning, Mulder had fallen 
back into a restful sleep.  He had risen from his bed to find a meal waiting 
for him in the cabin.  He had just finished eating, when one of the crewmen 
had come to inform him that he was allowed to go on deck this afternoon, if 
he chose to do so.  He didn't have to be told twice, and nearly knocked the 
tall, bearded man over as he scrambled to leave the cabin.

* * *
Captain Skinner strolled down the immaculate deck of the Chauve Terreur.  
Most pirate ships were dirty, ill-maintained affairs but not the ship of 
Captain Skinner.  Any man who signed on with him knew that he was expected 
to work just like any other seaman.  He would just be paid better.

"Mr. Byers," Skinner said as he approached his first mate.  "Would you have 
one of the men locate Fox for me.  I would have his company for the a 
while."

To Skinner's surprise, Byers just grimaced sickly and pointed one finger in 
a skyward direction.

Skinner frowned at the man.  "My hat?"  He raised his hand to check on the 
black, tricorn that rested securely on his head.

Another rueful grimace as John Byers again pointed upward.

"What is it, Mr. Byers?  Gulls?  Have you spotted gulls?  Have we drifted 
off course and are now nearing hostile shores?"

"Uh, no sir . . .it's uh, Fox."

"Fox?  What are you trying to say, man.  I don't understand sign language.  
Speak up!"

"Your cabin boy, sir.  He's . . .he's up there."  Again Byers pointed to the 
sky but this time Captain Skinner followed the direction of his first mate's 
finger.  His heart nearly stopped when he saw Fox standing in the crow's 
nest at the very top of the mast.

"Merciful heavens!  How did he get up there?"

"It's only a guess, captain, but I would venture to say he climbed the main 
sail."

"What?  Well, get him down!"

John rubbed a calloused hand over his bearded chin thoughtfully.  "Well, 
sir, we've been discussing that very thing for the past hour, and truth be 
told, we're not really sure how to go about that without putting the boy in 
mortal danger."

"He's in mortal danger now!  I want him down here and I want him down here 
this instant!"  Skinner shaded his eyes with his right hand as he looked 
back up the towering heights to where his new cabin boy stood.  As he did 
so, Fox caught sight of him, waved cheerfully, and threw one leg over the 
edge of the crow's nest preparing to climb back down.

"Sweet Mary and Joseph!  Fox, no!"  Skinner ran to the bottom of the 
mainsail and began to climb up. "Stay where you are!"

"What?"  Fox called back down, the whistle of the wind cutting off the 
captain's words before they got to him.  He looked down, somewhat bewildered 
to see Captain Skinner rapidly climbing the rigging.  He shrugged his 
shoulders and continued downward, perhaps the captain had work to do up 
here. Best to get out of his way as quickly as possible.

"I said stay where you are!"  Skinner yelled at the top of his lungs, his 
heart missing yet another few beats as he saw the young man get one of his 
feet tangled in the ropes and nearly lose his balance.  Mulder finally 
righted himself, his natural agility and coordination all that saved his 
life.

Skinner allowed himself to breath again as he nimbly climbed the last few 
feet to where Fox had stopped his descent and was happily standing in the 
rigging letting the wind blow through his hair.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"  Skinner growled as he carefully 
took hold of his cabin boy.

"Sorry, sir.  I know there must be work for me to do but this is the first 
time I've been on a ship, and I just had to see what it was like to . . ."

"First . . .first . . .first time!  You've never climbed a rigging before?"

"Well no.  I've watched from the little window in the counting house many 
times as the seamen would repair the sail while in dock.  I've always wanted 
to climb around in those ropes myself."  Fox smiled happily at the captain 
until he realized the big man did not appear to be quite so pleased that Fox 
had accomplished such an enormous life-long dream.

The captain growled as he wrapped one well-muscled arm around Fox's waist 
and proceeded to back step down the rest of the rigging., his perplexed 
cabin boy well in tow.  Once they had reached the deck, Fox was somewhat 
surprised to see that most of the crew had stopped work to watch their 
descent.  He looked back at the captain uncertainly.

"Go wait for me in my cabin."  Skinner said from between gritted teeth, his 
jaw twitching madly.

"But I want to stay on deck, sir.  I've been in that cabin for days."

Skinner placed a big hand on each of Fox's upper arms and shook him soundly. 
  "You will go to my cabin.  Once there, you will lower your pants and stand 
with your nose in a corner until I have calmed down sufficiently to come 
deal with you."

Mulder's eyes widened as he gave his captain a couple of slow, confused 
blinks.  "Did I do something wrong, sir."  He looked up to where the huge 
sails were flapping in the wind.  "I didn't break any of the ropes did I?"

"Break the ropes!  Of course not!  You also didn't break your fool neck, 
which is unto itself enough of a miracle for one day.  Now go to my cabin.  
Now!"

Mulder nearly jumped out of his skin at the sheer volume of Captain 
Skinner's last order.  He heard several of the crewmen snickering behind his 
back as he bolted for the stairs that led below deck.

Mulder was sure he had been standing in this humiliating position for hours. 
  The only corner of the cabin that was free of furniture was the one that 
was directly across from the door.  Anyone who ventured through that portal 
right now was going to get an eyeful.

Mulder squirmed again, feeling a cool draft waft around his bare butt.  He 
still wasn't completely sure what he had done wrong, but there wasn't much 
doubt in his mind about how he was going to pay for his sins.

He tensed as he heard the door open behind him.  He didn't dare look around 
to see what the captain was doing.  He just hoped it was the captain.

"Tell me the truth, how old are you, Fox?"

Mulder rolled his eyes.  "I told you I'm twenty-three.  I turned 
twenty-three last month."

"Hum, well you look a good five years younger, and get into mischief like a 
five-year-old.  Mind telling me why you climbed up to that crow's nest?"

"I wanted to see a mermaid."

"Excuse me?"

"A mermaid, sir.  It's been recorded by countless sailors that they have 
spotted the strange and erotic creatures.  I've heard a hundred such 
stories, and I wanted to see one for myself.  And besides, I like the feel 
of the wind in my hair."

"Well you're not going to like the feel my hand on your butt."

"But I can just today sit down again," Fox whined pathetically.

"You should have thought about that before you carelessly risked your life."

"I didn't think it was dangerous," Fox protested.  "I just wanted to see the 
mermaids, and that seemed like the best place to do it.  And I assumed I had 
duties to perform as your cabin boy so I wasn't going to stay up there very 
long."

"Well you were right on several points, Fox.  You do have duties to perform 
on this ship.  I will train you in those responsibilities when I am ready to 
do so, and not until.  Secondly, you are correct in that you won't be able 
to sit down again any time soon.  And, last, but not least, I agree that you 
need fresh air and sunshine.  You're far too pale.  Now come over here and 
get across my knee, I'm going to warm your bottom for you."

Mulder turned from the corner to face the captain, his mouth agape.  "Over 
your knee!  Like a little kid?"

"Act like a five-year-old, get treated like one.  Come on, I don't have all 
day, the captain has duties aboard a ship as well you know."

Bottom lip out in a glorious pout, Mulder moved across the room and 
awkwardly positioned himself across the captain's lap.  He shivered as the 
man ran a big, calloused hand over his exposed backside.  This man had seen 
every inch of his body, and most intimately, just this morning but this was 
still highly embarrassing. Mulder felt the hand leave his bottom only 
seconds before it came crashing back down onto his tender skin.

‘Ye-ouch!"

Mulder squirmed as the hand landed again and then again.  He did manage not 
to cry out after the shock of the first smack but that big, work-hardened 
hand stung so badly he felt tears come to his eyes.

Skinner looked down at the vivid hand prints that now overlaid the faint 
marks still visible from the caning that Fox had received from that bastard, 
Blevins.  He really wished the boy had waited a day or two more before 
getting into trouble.  Before this was over, Fox would be wishing the same 
thing.

"Don't you ever," Smack!  "Do anything like that again," Smack!
"There is danger aboard a ship, Fox,"  Smack!  "You have to be trained in 
the craft of sailing,"  Smack!  "I promise," Smack!  "I'll teach you all you 
need to know,"  Smack!  "But it isn't going to happen,"  Smack!  "In one 
day."  Smack!

Mulder had been trying desperately not to cry out during this punishment.  
He had taken so much guff for years about how young he looked, and now to be 
likened to a five-year-old had wounded his male pride mightily.  He wiggled 
and squirmed on the captain's lap, trying without success to move his butt 
out of path of that blistering hand.  Finally, he could take it no more.  It 
felt like someone had doused his butt in oil and set a flame to it.

"Ouch!  Oh!  Please captain, please no more!  Ow-w-w-w!  I won't do it 
again, I promise."

Captain Skinner ignored his pleas, as well as his tears, as he went about 
evening up the flaming color he had achieved on the bare bottom turned so up 
invitingly for his attention.

The tortured butt now glowed a fiery red from the top of the rounded 
buttocks to middle of the long, muscular thighs.  The captain finished up by 
delivering six more solid smacks to the spot where Fox would feel it the 
most when he sat down, should he be so foolish as to try to sit any time 
soon.  Finally satisfied that his kicking, crying cabin boy had been well 
and truly punished, Skinner gently patted the scorched skin of Fox's hot 
bottom.
"Sh-h-h-h, don't cry, it's all over now, little boy."

"Ow!  Don't touch it!"

He felt the hand leave his scalded bottom to move down and gently rub 
through his hair, the other hand resting possessively on the back of his 
thigh.

"The same goes for you, Fox.  I want you to go stand in your corner with you 
hands on top of your head, and think about how to avoid your present 
predicament in the future.  I have something I must check on immediately, 
but when I return, I'll take you on back on deck with me."

Mulder rose without looking at his chastiser, and shuffled miserably over to 
his corner, his bottom so hot he was sure it was smoldering.  Sometime later 
he noticed that Skinner had left the cabin door wide open, but didn't have 
the courage to go shut it himself.  Better a little public display than 
another spanking like the one he had just gotten.

"Whew!  Would you look at that!  I don't think I've ever seen an ass that 
red.  Now that's gotta' be hurting something awful.  Did you make the big, 
mean captain mad at you, little cabin boy?"

Mulder chanced a look over his shoulder, seeing three men standing in the 
doorway smirking at him.  He sighed and turned back to face his corner.  
"Leave me alone."

"Now why would I want to do that?  Name's Tom Colton and these are my 
friends, Willie and Carter.  You should know, I had my eye on sharing the 
captain's cabin myself.  And I will too, as soon as I get rid of you."

Considering the present condition of his backside, Mulder had to wonder why 
anyone would have aspirations to take his place with the captain.

"You better go away," Mulder warned.  "The captain will be back any minute, 
and I don't think he'd like to find you talking to me."

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the unmistakable sound of the 
captain returning could be heard.  Colton and his two minions faded into the 
shadows like the rats they undoubtedly would prove to be.

Mulder was surprised to find himself turned and held tightly against the 
captain's muscular chest.  "I don't like doing that to you, Fox, please try 
to behave in the future like the adult you claim to be."

Mulder was mortified to find his eyes filling with fresh tears, ‘I'm sorry I 
disappointed you, Captain Skinner.  I'll do better in the future, I 
promise."

Skinner gently rubbed the back of his cabin boy's soft hair, "I'm sure you 
will, Fox.  You're a smart boy, you've just been locked up in that 
God-forsaken counting house far too long.  You'll soon learn your way around 
this ship, and know how to avoid the kind of trouble you found for yourself 
today."

"Yes, sir."

"All right, pull up your pants, and come with me.  You're going to spend the 
rest of the day on deck as I promised."

Not anxious to face the crew, who could have little doubt about what had 
just transpired in the captain's cabin, Mulder reluctantly followed the 
captain up the galley stairs and onto the ship's forward deck.  The captain 
escorted Mulder over to the railing, then taking two short pieces of rope 
from his pocket proceeded to tie his cabin boy's wrists to the ship railing. 
He looked into a pair of shocked hazel eyes.

"At least this way, I'll damned well know where to find you when I want you. 
  Enjoy the wind in your hair, Fox."  Skinner delivered one more stinging 
smack to Fox's sore butt, then walked away to attend to his duties.

At first Mulder enjoyed the quiet of the foredeck, the gentle sway of the 
ship and the beauty of the ocean.  But as the afternoon wore on, the sun 
turned from a warm, gentle companion to a cruel adversary, beating down on 
his sweating body relentlessly.  He soon became light-headed from a 
combination of thirst and heat.  By the time the sun finally dipped below 
the horizon of the ocean, Mulder was swaying on his feet.

When the captain arrived to take him below, he found the young man leaning 
heavily on the rail, his head lolling on his chest.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"Wa . . .water."  Mulder pleaded.

Skinner frowned.  "What the hell?  Are you thirsty?"

Mulder nodded, the world spinning around him.  He heard the captain yelling 
at someone.  He hoped it wasn't him because his ears were ringing so loudly 
he couldn't hear anything except his own heart beat.

When the cup of cool water finally touched his lips, Mulder tried to drink 
it all down in one swallow, whimpering when it was pulled away.

"Slow down, you're going to make yourself sick.  Drink it slowly.
When was the last time you had a drink, Fox."

Mulder tried to pull himself together enough to think.  He was distracted by 
the sharp blade of the captain's knife as it cut away the sweaty ropes that 
help Mulder to the railing all the long afternoon.  He felt strong hands 
wrap around his upper arms.  He was glad because he felt his knees go weak, 
and didn't want to end up flat on his ass in front of the rest of the crew.

"Answer me!  When was the last time Mr. Colton brought you water?"

"Colton?"

"Dammit!  Colton is a good man, there must have been some kind of 
misunderstanding about my orders.  I'm sorry, Fox.  It wasn't my intention 
to leave you here all these hours without water.  Can you walk?"

Mulder nodded, taking a step forward just as his knees buckled and he fell 
heavily into the captain's solid body.  Skinner easily swung the younger man 
up into his arms, and stalked off in the direction of his cabin.

"You know, brat, this is becoming a habit with you."

Mulder just lay his head against the captain's shoulder and closed his eyes.

* * *
The days passed pleasantly for the new Cabin Boy of the Chauve Terreur.  
Captain Skinner taught him the duties of his position aboard ship.  When he 
wasn't busy taking care of the captain's personal needs, he was assigned to 
help the cook in the galley or assist with the endless mopping and scrubbing 
that needed to done to keep the ship in good order.  He didn't mind the 
work, most of it was up on deck and as the days went by, Fox's golden skin 
began to glow with health and vitality.

He avoided most of the crew, who either appeared to resent his place in the 
captain's cabin, or looked at him as if they would like to find out first 
hand just what the captain found so pleasurable, that he left his cabin 
whistling each morning.  He did, however, manage to make friends with one of 
the men.

Melvin Frohike had risked talking to him one night when he had brought Fox 
his evening meal.  The cabin boy was alone at the time, reattaching missing 
buttons to the captain's shirts, Skinner having not yet returned for the 
night.  The two had become fast friends.  Frohike had started life as a 
street urchin who had learned the tricks of survival before signing on for 
the life of a pirate.  Fox was sure that some of Frohike's lessons would 
prove to be invaluable to him sometime in the future.

Mulder also became very adept at avoiding Tom Colton and his friends.

When the cabin door opened, Mulder looked up from his task of shining the 
captain's boots.  "Good evening, sir, will you be dining in the galley or 
would you like me to fetch a tray for you?"

"Have you already eaten, Fox?"

Mulder shrugged his shoulders as he looked back down at the boots he had 
been attending.  The truth of it was that he had gone to the gallery earlier 
but Colton had been there, and started in on Fox the minute he walked 
through the door.  Although Mulder was not ashamed of his relationship with 
the captain, it was still new enough to him to cause considerable bouts of 
heavy blushing.  He had quickly decided that a full belly was not worth the 
price he would have to pay for staying in the galley.

"I'm not really hungry, sir."

"I don't want you missing meals, brat.  You've put on some weight and it 
looks good on you but it could easily fall away if you stop taking regular 
meals."

"Yes, sir.  Sorry, sir." Mulder refused to look at the captain, instead 
opting to appear consumed with his polishing.

"Put those boots away, Fox, you've nearly rubbed the very color from the 
leather.  Go to the galley and get a tray, enough for two.  You'll be 
joining my for dinner."

Mulder hurried to the galley, suffering the cooks wrath at having to prepare 
a tray so late in the evening, just managing to avoid a sound box to the 
ears from the irate little man.

Skinner had shed most of his clothing and lay relaxing on his bed, thinking 
about his pretty cabin boy.  He was becoming quite fond of the bright and 
energetic young man.  He now found himself looking forward to taking Fox 
home for a while.  It had been a hard month for both of them, and though he 
thought Fox was adjusting well, it would still be nice for them to have some 
time alone together without the responsibilities of the ship with which the 
captain must contend.

"Here you are, sir."  Mulder shouldered his way through the heavy door.  
"I'm afraid it's mutton again tonight but it does smell quite good."

"Does it smell better to you now than it did earlier in the galley?"

"I . . .uh, no sir."

"Want to tell me what was bothering you earlier?"

"It was nothing, Captain Skinner, really."

Skinner pointed to the floor in front of him.  "Take off your clothes and 
kneel in front of me, Fox."

Mulder swallowed hard but did as he was told, his naked body shivering 
slightly in the cool night air.  Skinner reached down and took his chin in 
his hand, raising his face until their eyes met.

"If anyone on this ship touches you, and you don't report it to me 
immediately, you will share in their punishment.  I wouldn't like to see a 
cat-o-nine-tails laid across your pretty back, Fox, but if there's a good 
enough reason, I'll do it.  Do you understand me, brat?"

"Yes . . .yes, sir." Mulder nodded his head adamantly, wanting there to be 
no doubt in the captain's mind that he wished to avoid any contact with that 
nasty looking black whip that the first mate wielded so expertly.

"Of course I'd have to do the job myself, as Mr. Byers seems to have become 
quite protective of you."

"I don't think so, sir.  He seems as formidable as ever, if you ask me."

"Hum, well we shall see.  Now open you mouth.  Since you don't have the 
sense to feed yourself, I'll do it for you.  Hands behind your back and 
spread your knees further apart.  I might as well have a nice view will I 
partake of my own meal."

"This really isn't necessary, sir."  Mulder assured, his face flushing to a 
bright crimson.

"It's necessary because I say it's necessary, boy, now open your mouth or I 
may decide to carry out this little task up on deck.  Would you like to dine 
by moonlight, brat?"

"No!  I mean, no thank you, this is fine, sir."

"I thought you might come to that conclusion."

Mulder opened his lips as Skinner pushed a piece of mutton into his waiting 
mouth.  Besides the mutton, there were boiled turnips, which made Mulder 
grimace with every bite, and even a sweet, ripe orange. Mulder couldn't even 
imagine from where the captain had gotten that priceless treat.  It was 
delicious, and doubly so when the captain painstakingly licked every drop of 
spilled juice from his cabin boy's chin.

It was no surprise when the captain was once again whistling as he left his 
cabin the next morning.

* * *
Mulder awoke to the sound of an explosion.  He sat straight up in bed, his 
eyes nervously tracking around the deserted cabin.  Another blast, louder 
than the first, rocked the ship.  Mulder was sure he smelled smoke!

Jumping from the bed and dressing in record time, Fox threw open the cabin 
door just as another explosion erupted.  He could hear shouting coming from 
on deck.  He had to go protect the captain!

Stumbling his way up the rocking galley stairs, he stuck his head above deck 
to see men firing the heavy cannons that were mounted on the deck, as the 
captain stood at the front shouting orders to his crew.

Mulder pulled himself onto the shuttering deck, slipping and sliding on the 
wet wood under his feet as he made his way to his captain.

"Who are they, sir?  Why are they attacking us?"

Skinner turned angry eyes to his troublesome but precious cabin boy.  "What 
the hell are you doing up here?  Get below immediately!"

"I can help you fight!  I can protect you!  Are they a band of dastardly 
pirates, sir?"

Even in the heat of battle, Skinner couldn't stop the incredulous expression 
that came over his face.  "No, Fox.  We are."

"What?"  Mulder gave him another one of those slow, befuddled blinks.

"We're the pirates, Fox, and we're getting ready to board that rich merchant 
ship.  Now go below before you get hurt."

"You can't do that!"

One eyebrow rose high over Skinner's right eye.  "Can't do what?"

"You can't just . . .just attack another ship like this.  It isn't right!"

"We're pirates, Fox."  Skinner said slowly and carefully as he signaled for 
Byers to take his place.  He grabbed Mulder's arm and began to pull him 
toward the galley stairs.  "This is what I do.  This is how I obtain gold 
and treasure so I can pay the crew.  This is how I get the wealth I need to 
feed and clothe pretty little cabin boys."

Mulder skidded to an abrupt halt, causing even the stronger Skinner to be 
forced to stop in his tracks.  "You have other cabin boys?"

Skinner rolled his eyes heavenward, "Of course not!  Just how crazy do you 
think I am?"  He shook Mulder sharply when it looked as if the man was 
actually thinking about the question.  "Don't you dare say a word!  Now come 
on, I don't have time for your foolish questions right now, I have work to 
do here."

"You steal from people?"

Skinner shook his head in total exasperation as he pulled the boy down the 
stairs and pushed him back into his cabin.

"Fox, just exactly what did you think when I told you I was a pirate?   Just 
what did you expect we would do while we were at sea?"

"Uh, I don't know.  Look for buried treasure, rescue damsels in distress 
maybe."

Now both eyebrows were raised above the captain's eyes.

"What?" Fox asked defensively, "I've read books, I know all about pirates."

"Is that so?"  Skinner closed his eyes, and rubbed hard at the bridge of his 
nose.  But when he looked up once more, his cabin boy was till standing in 
front of him, accusation and disappointment in his wide, hazel eyes.  "If 
you know all about pirates, then you won't be too surprised when this one 
locks you in his cabin until he's finished plundering that nice, fat 
merchant ship up there?"

"Are . . .are you going to kill them?"

"No Fox, I'm going to invite them for tea!"

Mulder sighed in relief.  "Oh, that's fine then.  For a minute there I 
thought you were . . ."

The door slammed so hard that several books fell from the captain's desk.  
Mulder could hear the man muttering loudly as he made his way back up on 
deck.

Mulder walked over to try the knob, but the door was indeed locked.  He lay 
back down on the bed, listening as the sounds of cannon fire and shouting 
died down above him.  He wondered if Captain Skinner would allow him to join 
the merchants for tea.

Not only was Fox not invited for tea, dinner was delivered by a surly 
seaman, who advised him to eat every bite as the captain thought Mulder 
needed to gain some weight and was not in the mood to brook any disobedience 
on the part of, as the man so kindly put it, his ‘useless' cabin boy.

Mulder was already sound asleep before the captain returned to his quarters 
that night.  The cabin boy awoke the next morning with the captain's big 
body wrapped tightly around him and the feel of a collar around his neck.

He tucked at the offending adornment but accomplished little except waking 
his bed partner, who glared at him menacingly.

"Problem, boy?"

"I don't like this thing around my neck."

"Well I do.  There was quite a lot of Turkish treasure on that ship, and I 
thought this piece was just right for you.  It's solid gold, Fox."

"It's a dog collar."

Skinner laughed, making his cabin boy scowl at him even harder.  "I would 
say it's a slave collar.  A harem-boy collar to be precise.  I did a lot of 
thinking about you last night, Fox.  I've come to the conclusion that I'll 
never make a pirate out of you.  You have too much damnable conscience to 
become really blood-thirsty, therefore I'll have to content myself in 
training you to be my beautiful and willing captive slave."

"I thought I was your cabin boy," Mulder pouted, earning himself a big, wet 
kiss right on the little mole on his right cheek.

"Oh you can be that too.  I think you've come to like what I do to my cabin 
boy in this bed every night, don't you, brat?"

Mulder blushed as he gave the horrid collar another hard tug. "I like it all 
right."

"I think you like it better than all right," Skinner teased, kissing him 
again.  "Now, this time I'm not going to cane you for coming on deck 
yesterday. . ."  Skinner smiled as his cabin boy's eyes flew to his face in 
alarm.  "But the next time we board a merchant ship you will stay in this 
cabin.  Do you understand me?"

Mulder nodded his head slowly, his mouth too dry to speak.

"Good.  Now, as much as I would love nothing more than to loll away the day 
with you in this bed, I have work to do."

Skinner pulled out a long, thin piece of leather, making Mulder's eyes open 
even wider as it was attached to his collar.

"I still don't trust you not to climb to your death or God only know what 
else.  This will keep you safely by my side while you enjoy all the wind 
through your hair that you could ever desire."

"But captain, sir . . .the crew . . ."

"Which is another reason I want you by my side.  I don't like the way some 
of the crew has been looking at you while you crawled around this ship like 
a monkey loose in his first banana tree."

"A monkey, sir?  You've actually seen a real monkey?"

"Many times, and so will you.  When we aren't at sea, we'll be staying at my 
home.  It's beautiful, Fox.  I own a whole jungle-island, with a magnificent 
white house right in the middle.  And there's a waterfall where the water is 
always warm and inviting.  You're going to love it there, brat."

"It does sound nice."

"And it's very well equipped too.  A woodshed with a specially built 
spanking stool, and a huge assortment of leather straps and paddles.  Oh, 
and there's wooden stocks out back and a whipping post.  I'm afraid the 
previous owner was rather hard on his native slaves.  I haven't had much 
need of those things myself, but now that I have you . . ."

"You're going to wh . . .whip me?"

"Never!"  Skinner looked horribly offended that Mulder would even entertain 
such a notion.  "But now that I see just what a handful you can be, well it 
only stands to reason that you'll need a firm hand.  Once you've stood in 
those stocks for an afternoon with your head and wrists secured, your 
beautiful, naked body on public display while you await your punishment . . 
..well, I think that will be a lesson long remembered, don't you?"

"You're looking forward to this!"  Mulder accused sullenly.  "And I haven't 
even done anything yet!"

"You will."

Mulder buried his head in his hands.  How could he have ever thought this 
man actually loved him.  He had been a fool, and now he was trapped on board 
ship with a cruel, and nefarious pirate.  All this time he had just been 
enjoying his time abroad ship, and truth be known, in the captain's bed, 
when he should have been planning his escape.

After the captain had bestowed another long, breath-taking kiss, then taken 
his leave, Mulder busied himself tidying up the cabin.  Finally, wiping 
tears from his eyes, he came to the only conclusion that he could, he must 
escape at the first opportunity.  He was falling in love with the handsome 
pirate captain, and that could only lead to heartbreak.  Better to leave at 
the first opportunity and save himself the pain of loving a man who didn't 
love him back.  Heaven only knew, there had been enough of those people in 
Mulder's life already.

This opportunity came a scant two days later.  Mulder had spent the day 
rather pleasantly, sitting on the hatch, his leash tied to the mast beside 
him.  He still didn't like being shackled but it was nice to spend the day 
above deck watching the ocean drift by as the wind gently caressed his face. 
  The captain had even loaned him a book on navigation that he found 
fascinatefter mid-meal the captain had taken him to his cabin and had slow 
sweet sex with him, just like the man actually loved him or something.  Then 
he had followed the captain around the ship, enthralled by the sense of 
unquestionable authority and vigor that was such a natural part of the 
captain of the Chauve Terreur.

Suddenly the crew member assigned to look-out in Mulder's coveted crow's 
nest, yelled out a warning of an approaching ship.  Mulder felt his leash 
being tugged as the captain began to pull him back toward the stairs that 
led to the cabins below.

"Please, sir, let me stay here and . . .and watch."

‘No, you could get hurt.  Don't argue with me, boy."

Mulder said nothing more, allowing himself to be locked into the captain's 
cabin.  He waited until he heard the sound of cannon fire and shouting from 
above, then pulled a piece of misshapen wire from his pocket.

One of the many lessons that have been bestowed on the young cabin boy by 
Melvin Frohike was the ability to pick a lock, any lock.  A very useful 
skill to say the least.

As the door opened quickly under his expertly tutored hands, Mulder went 
flying up the stairs to the deck above.  He spotted the ship that was now 
under attack.  A heavily laden merchant craft, just barely holding its own 
against the more abundant and expertly-manned guns of the pirate ship.

Mulder dove for the rail, planning to throw himself overboard and swim to 
the other ship.  How he then planned to rescue the merchant ship from the 
pirates hadn't really been worked out, but he was sure something would come 
to mind once he was safely aboard the other ship.

As soon as he reached the side of the ship closest to his goal, one of the 
merchant ship's cannon balls got in a lucky shot, taking out a good portion 
of the railing directly in front of Mulder with a deafening blast and a 
deadly hail of splintered wood.

A crewman named Ringo Langly, who had long blond hair and a penchant for 
taking advantage of any opportunity that presented itself, managed to snag 
Fox's waist just in time to pull him away from his immanent death.  He kept 
the cabin boy pinned safely under his own body until the pieces of burning 
wood had stopped falling from the sky, thereby earning himself the undying 
gratitude of his captain and an extra share of the treasure garnered from 
that day's considerable haul.  Ringo thought it all well worth the few burns 
he had gotten on his back.  He had little doubt that someday the debt owed 
him by Captain Skinner would come in most handy.

When Mulder could finally extricate himself from under his self-appointed 
savior, he painfully opened his smoke-filled eyes to the furious face of 
Captain Walter Skinner standing above him.

"Are you hurt, brat?"

"N . . .no."

"Langly, take him below and tie him to my bed.  I'll deal with him later."

The End Chapter 2

Chapter 3

"Langly, take him below and tie him to my bed.  I'll deal with him later."

* * *
Mulder pulled at the ropes that now held him spread-eagled to the captain's 
bed as fat tears ran down his smooth cheeks.  He told himself that it was 
only the soot and smoke from this afternoon's confrontation with the other 
ship, he didn't really care that he had disappointed Captain Skinner.

So deep in his own misery, he nearly jumped out of his skin when the cabin 
door opened with a resounding crash against the back wall.  Captain 
Skinner's face was a most unhealthy shade of red as he surveyed his 
helplessly bound cabin boy.

"What the hell were you trying to do up there?"

Mulder swallowed hard but didn't let his gaze falter from the captain's 
eyes.  "I was trying to escape."

"You were trying to escape by jumping onto a sinking ship?  Why in hell 
would you do a fool thing like that?"

"It's my duty to escape?"

"Your duty lies with me, brat." The captain's eyes became even more dark and 
dangerous.

"No!  I was a fool to think you would treat me kindly.  I have to escape 
from this pirate ship before you decide to kill me."  Mulder wanted his 
voice to sound equally dangerous to the captain's, but even to his own ears, 
he just sounded heartbroken.

Captain Skinner sat down on the edge of the bunk, slowly rubbing a hand up 
and down Mulder's thigh.  "What have I done to you that has been unkind?"

"You . . .you put this collar around my neck.  And when we get to your 
island you're going to whip me, and . . ."  Mulder hesitated and gasped for 
breath as the captain's roaming hand moved up to stroke and then squeeze his 
cock through his trousers.  Skinner couldn't help the satisfaction he felt 
at the boy's immediate response to his touch.

"Brat, if I haven't whipped you yet, it's fair to say it's not going to 
happen.  Surly you've shown me the worst side of yourself while you've been 
aboard my ship."

"I wouldn't count on that, sir."  Mulder assured as he sighed in either 
relief or disappointment as the captain released his swelling cock and rose 
from the bed.

"I see."  Skinner turned his back on Fox, lest the boy see the smile that 
was playing at his lips.  "I suppose it will do little good to tell you that 
I have no intention of marring that beautiful skin of yours with my whip.  
It seems that we shall just have to let events take their course.   Only 
time will prove to you the truth of my words."

Skinner turned back to look at his nettlesome charge, splayed out on his bed 
like some beautiful and willing trollop, his pants bulging with the 
impressive erection that the captain's slight touch had produced.  "Of 
course, I cannot allow your actions this afternoon to go unpunished.  Mr. 
Langly is at this very moment having his injuries attended by, Dr. Pendril, 
our ship's surgeon.  Wounds that he would not have gotten had it not been 
for your foolhardy and ill-planned little escape attempt.  An attempt which 
will heretofore cost you a great deal of your previous freedom, I might add. 
  I have no desire to lose you just yet, cabin boy."

"What . . .what are you going to . . .to do to me?"

Skinner turned away, once again pretending to study the many maps lying on 
top of his desk, not wanting the boy's beauty and current wanton display to 
distract him from his duty.  "I haven't decided you fate as of yet, but you 
may rest assured that it shall be carried out before the sun sets today."

Skinner walked swiftly to the cabin door, leaving without another word or 
even a backward glance at his trembling cabin boy.

As the afternoon wore on, Mulder was certain that the captain would return 
to find nothing left but his rotting corpse.  He tried to shift his weight 
to alleviate some of the stiffness and cramping in the muscles of his widely 
stretched arms and legs, but he was tied to the bed too securely to find any 
relief.

When he was sure that any minute he was going to just start screaming, the 
door to the cabin opened slowly and Frohike entered the cabin.

"The captain has asked me to bring you on deck, Fox."  Frohike said.   The 
little man refused to look at his young friend's face as he began to loosen 
the ropes that held Mulder to the bed.

"What's wrong, Frohike?  Why does he want me above?"

"Just come with me, Fox.  I'm already in trouble.  I think the captain 
suspects that I let you out of the cabin during that first attack.  He 
hasn't said as much, but I can tell by the way he looks at me, and now he's 
sent me down here to fetch you.  I can't take any chances, so just keep your 
questions to yourself and come with me quickly.  It will all be over soon."

"What will all be over quickly?"  Mulder pleaded in a near panicked voice, 
but Frohike said nothing more, increasing Mulder's unease a thousand fold.

Mulder found himself unable to draw a deep breath as he allowed his friend 
to lead him up the steps and onto the deck.  He stopped abruptly as he saw 
that a large wooden barrel was lying on it's side and had been lashed to the 
deck with sturdy ropes. The entire crew was standing around this barrel, the 
captain in the forefront, looking grim and determined.

"Cabin Boy Mulder, you are accused of insubordination to your captain and 
causing injury to a fellow crewman.  Do you have anything to say for 
yourself before your sentence is delivered?"

Mulder tried to speak but all that came out was a dry croak, he opted 
instead to just shake his head.  He saw several of the crewmen, including 
Tom Colton, smirking at him gleefully.

"You are hereby sentenced to twelve lashes for your crimes against this ship 
and it's crew.  Sentence to be carried out immediately."

Mulder felt his knees go weak as Frohike's hand settled on his arm, 
propelling him towards where his captain stood.

"In view of your tender age and inexperience at sea, you will receive all 
twelve lashes, not on your naked back as is customary in instances such as 
this, but on your bare rump.  Mr. Frohike, you will prepare Fox for his 
punishment."

Mulder's mind had gone completely numb as he saw the group of seamen part to 
allow Frohike to lead him to the waiting barrel.  His hands were tied in 
front of him, he was then bent across the wooden cylinder until his feet 
left the deck on one side and his hair brushed the rough flooring on the 
other.  His legs were spread and tied to the ropes securing the barrel to 
the deck.  Mulder closed his eyes tightly as he felt hands at the waist of 
his trousers which were quickly pulled down to his knees, his shirt pushed 
up high on his back.  Thus leaving him upended, fully exposed to the entire 
crew.

His face flaming with humiliation, Mulder couldn't help but look up over his 
shoulder to see his own bare bottom high in the air, the crew gathered 
closely around to better watch his chastisement.

He quickly lowered his head and again closed his eyes as he saw the captain 
move behind his defenseless backside.

Mr. Byers moved forward, reluctantly handing the cat-o-nine-tails to his 
captain.  "Sir?"

"No, Mr. Byers, I shan't need that."  Skinner hands went to be own pants, 
swiftly removing the thick, black leather belt that he always wore.  "Twelve 
of the best, Fox, prepare yourself."

The muscles of Mulder's bare backside clenched tightly in anticipation of 
the first blow.  It came without hesitation, slamming down on the tightly 
stretched, tender skin with a loud crack, leaving a wide, red stripe of pure 
fire across the once pristine globes.

"Ah-h-h-h-h!"  Mulder screamed as he heard a detached voice call from 
somewhere behind him.

"One."

Again the heavy belt descended on its hapless target.  Once again the cabin 
boy cried out his distress, only to be met with that same emotionless voice 
announcing, "Two."  He realized sadly that it was his friend, Frohike, who 
was being forced to count his strokes.

Mulder was sure he had never felt such pain as was being imparted by the 
captain's belt.  Well, actually Mr. Blevin's cane had hurt more but the 
public humiliation of this strapping certainly added to the total effect of 
the punishment.

In the farthest recesses of his mind, Fox knew that his bottom was putting 
on quite a performance, dancing merrily over the barrel, as Frohike called 
out the number of each blistering stripe.

"Ouch-h-h-h-h!"

"Four."

"No-o-o-o-o!"

"Six."

"Ah-h-h-h-h-h!  Oh!  Oh!"

"Nine."

The barrel rattled against the deck as it's rider wriggled and squirmed in 
anguish, pulling madly at his restraints, desperate to protect his bare, 
burning bottom from the relentless leather belt.

"No-o-o-o-o!  Oh!  Ouch-h-h-h-h!"

"Ten."

"Ah-h-h-h-h!"

"Eleven."  Mulder's entire backside and the very top of his thighs were 
alight with white, hot pain.  He was sure there was not an inch of his 
shamefully exhibited butt that was not now nothing but bleeding, flayed 
flesh.

"Oh-h-h-h-h No-o-o-o-o!  Owh-h-h-h!"

"Twelve."

Mulder screamed once more, his voice seeming to echo in the quite afternoon 
air.  Skinner looked down at his handy-work.  His precious cabin boy's once 
white bottom now glowed a bright, crimson red as his buttocks spontaneously 
flexed and relaxed with the burning sting the strap had so deftly imparted.  
  Captain Skinner knew it would be some time before the sobbing young man's 
blistered backside ceased its desperate dance of pain over the barrel.

"Fox will remain in his present disgraceful condition until sundown.  I want 
everyone on this ship to have adequate time to see exactly what happens to 
members of this crew who disregard my orders, no matter what their status 
aboard this ship."

The men quickly went back to work, most of them finding something pressing 
to do on deck, giving them ample opportunity to enjoy the view of the 
beautiful young man who lay with his bare, red bottom helplessly turned up 
to the sky.  His bound hands rubbing angrily at his incessant tears.

Tom Colton found more than one opportunity to sneak close enough to the 
well-punished man to add a few well-placed jabs to his misery.

"You really know how to piss the captain off, don't you, little cabin boy?"

"Leave me ‘lone."  Mulder mumbled, his nose pressed against the deck.

"How long do you think it will be before Captain Skinner grows tried of your 
antics, and just throws you to the sharks?"

Mulder said nothing, but Colton smiled as he saw the pretty, young man's 
body flinch at his words.  "Have you ever seen a man torn apart by sharks, 
Fox?  It's enough to turn a man's blood to ice.  It'll be a horrible way to 
die, little boy."

Mulder could not stop the shivers that continued to run through his body 
long after Colton had grown tired of his verbal attacks.

The lanterns were just being lit as Skinner came back to claim his repentant 
young cabin boy.

"Are you ready to be released, Fox?"

"Yes, sir.  Please, sir."

"Have you had time to adequately consider your actions of earlier today?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you now understand that you belong to me, and any attempts on your part 
to escape will be met with a swift and very painful response on my part?"

Mulder's shoulders hitched as he swallowed a sob, "I understand, sir.  I 
won't try to escape again."

Skinner untied his cabin boy, pulling him to his feet and pulling his 
trousers gently over his abused backside.  Mulder hissed even at this most 
careful of touches.  He yelped again as he was abruptly lifted into the 
captain's strong arms.

"I can walk, sir!"

"Like I said, this has become a habit."  Skinner smiled as he moved swiftly 
to the stairs with his precious burden.

He lay Mulder face down on his bed, carefully removing the cabin boy's shirt 
and pants.  He shook his head sadly at the still glowing and obviously 
painful butt that now met his gaze.

Mulder, lost in his own world of exhaustion and pain, yelped as a big, 
gentle hand began smoothing ointment over the blistered skin of his abused 
backside.

"Sh-h-h-h, I know its sore but this will help take some of the sting out.  I 
think you've suffered enough for your sins for one day."

  Mulder berated himself as he felt his eyes again fill with hot tears.  
Twenty-three years old and still crying like a baby over a sorely spanked 
bottom.

Skinner rubbed one hand in slow, soothing circles between Mulder's tensed 
shoulder blades.  "It's all right to cry, Fox.  I won't think less of you 
for it.  Get it all out and then we can get on with our life together.

"It . . .it just hurts so much."  Mulder sobbed, earning himself a kiss to 
his tear-stained cheek.

"I know.  And I know it was embarrassing to you that the crew was allowed to 
watch as you received your strapping, but discipline must be maintained on a 
ship while out to sea, Fox, even for you.  I had little choice in the matter 
without seriously risking my authority as the captain of the Chauve 
Terreur."

"What does it mean?"

"What does what mean, Fox?  Surely you understand the term  'maintaining 
discipline' even if you don't subscribe to it."

"No, what does Chauve Terreur mean?"

Skinner chuckled, surprising the young man being soothed under his big, 
rough hands.

"It means ‘The Bald Terror'.  I once had a very good friend who thought it 
the greatest of jokes.  I miss him still."

"Who was he?"

Skinner patted Mulder's sore bottom just a little too hard for the cabin 
boy's liking and rose from the bed, "You are a nosy thing, aren't you, brat? 
  Well, you'll get no more information from me tonight.  Now rest a little 
while and I'll bring you some dinner," The captain raised a quelling hand as 
Mulder opened his mouth to protest.  "And I don't want to hear one about 
your not being hungry.  I can see I've been too soft on your thus far.  It's 
time I got a little tougher with you."

Mulder's eyes opened wide in astonished horror.  "Too . . .too soft?"

Skinner chuckled again, "You are adorable, cabin boy, it's no wonder I let 
you get away with so much.  Now rest."

* * *
Skinner watched as his cabin boy sat on the forward hatch, reading a book 
about mermaids that he had borrowed from Frohike, of all people.

The captain was worried about his pretty brat.  It had been over a week 
since he had been strapped while lying over that barrel on the deck, and 
since that fateful day Fox had been the perfect cabin boy.  Attentive to his 
captain's needs, obedient to his every command, never speaking unless spoken 
to.  Skinner hated it.  He wanted his other Fox back.  The bright, amusing 
one who was always getting into trouble, and bringing a smile to his 
captain's face.

Oh this Fox still melted in his arms every night, although the captain 
sensed his cabin boy berated himself soundly for his own body's weakness 
later, but there was a distance between them now that could not be breeched.

And also, for some unknown reason, Fox had become obsessed with sharks.  He 
was certain that Skinner was going to throw him the side of the ship and 
that he would be eaten by sharks.  No matter how much the captain tried to 
reassure him, Fox remained convinced that his destiny lie as shark bait 
instead of bed warmer. It was most exasperating.

The captain's attention turned to where Tom Colton sat mending some sail, 
his eyes more on Fox than on his work.  Skinner remembered a brief 
conversation he'd had with Fox two days after the strapping incident on 
deck.  Skinner had been trying desperately to give his wounded cabin boy as 
much attention and affection as possible.  He knew the public punishment had 
not only hurt Fox's body but his tender heart as well.

"Tom Colton was telling me some things that . . ."

"Good!  I'm glad to see you making friends with Tom.  He's a fine young man, 
you'd do well to listen carefully to whatever Tom has to say.  He's been 
with me for two years now, and knows the ways of this ship and it's crew 
inside and out.   He's seldom wrong in his observations."

Skinner frowned at Fox as the color drained from the young man's face.  
"Does he know you so well?"

Skinner had chuckled, "Yes, I'd say Tom knows me well enough to predict just 
how I'll react in certain situations.  It's a valuable trait for a seaman."  
He placed an arm around Fox's trembling shoulders as he pulled him in into 
his chest for a hug.  "Of course, he doesn't know me in the biblical sense 
that you do, brat."

Looking back on the conversation, he realized that Fox had looked decidedly 
unsettled afterward, and had drawn even more into himself, becoming quieter 
as the days passed.

And now Tom Colton was watching the cabin boy much like Old Henry, the 
tomcat Skinner's mother had kept in their barn, had watched a mouse just 
before he pounced with deadly intent.  Surely Fox hadn't given the clever, 
reliable Tom any reason for reprisal against him.

The captain had just about decided to go have a talk with Tom when his 
thoughts were interrupted by his first mate.

"Sir, it would appear we're in for some bad weather.  The man in the crow's 
nest reports that the clouds we have been watching all morning have darkened 
and are now moving quickly in our direction."

"Very well, Mr. Byers.  Batten down and prepare the crew for bad weather.  
I'm going to take Fox down below to ride out this one.  There'll plenty of 
time for him to get his storm legs some other day, this is too soon."

"Are you worried about him too, captain." John said with a note of 
compassion in his voice.

"Also?  Have you found reason to be concerned about Fox, John?"

"Well he isn't the overly-excited young man that we rescued just a few weeks 
ago, sir.  I fear there have been some gross misunderstandings that need to 
be cleared up between the two of you."

Skinner glanced over to where Fox had risen and was staring with undisguised 
curiosity at the gathering storm.  "I think you're right as usual, Mr. 
Byers.  Once we pass through this storm, I'd like you to set a course for 
home."

Byers smiled happily as he all but saluted his captain.  He was most anxious 
to get back to the island and home to his wife, Suzanne.  It had been far 
too long.

Mulder looked over at the captain as he approached, "I want you to go to my 
cabin now, Fox.  You don't have enough experience to be of any help to us 
and I don't want you hurt."

Mulder started to protest that if he had to stay in the cabin for every 
incident that happened, he would never gain any experience but then he just 
closed his mouth, a resigned look on his face.  He untied his own leash from 
the mast, and moved down to where Skinner was standing.  They walked 
together across the deck, which was already beginning to heave with the 
rougher waters caused by the impending storm, and made their way below deck.

When they reached the cabin, the captain turned Mulder and gently removed 
the collar from around his neck.  The cabin boy rubbed at his now barren 
throat as if the collar had been made of the iron instead of the lightest 
gold.

He found himself turned again, this time to face the captain.  "It isn't my 
wish to make you unhappy, Fox.  I hope you'll believe that enough to tell 
what's bothering you some day soon."

"Thank you, sir."  Mulder said still rubbing at this throat, his eyes glued 
to his own feet.

"Fox, it's very important that you stay here in the cabin until the storm 
has passed.  Many a good and well-seasoned sailor has lost his life to a 
storm at sea.  There's nothing more dangerous.  Do I have your promise that 
you'll stay here, so I can keep my mind on my responsibilities?"

Mulder glanced up into the captain's deep brown eyes.  He had never 
considered that his own actions could distract the captain and perhaps 
endanger his own life.

"Yes sir.  I'll wait here until you return."

Skinner smiled warmly, bestowing a quick but loving kiss on Fox's lush lips. 
  "In that case, I look forward to my return with a joyful heart.  You are 
most pleasant to come home to, beautiful Fox."

Mulder blushed as the captain turned to hurry out of the cabin.  They could 
both hear the sounds of the storm as it battered the ship from all sides.

Mulder had never been on a ship during a storm.  It was at one and the same 
time the most exciting and the most horrifying experience of his entire 
life.  He could feel the ship shudder as if it would come apart at the 
seams, while the ocean roared around them, pounding the deck above.

Suddenly the door was flung open.  Mulder look in alarm as a wild-eyed Tom 
Colton stood dripping on the floor.  "The captain wants to come up on deck 
right now!"

Mulder shook his head at this man that he didn't trust.  "But Captain 
Skinner told me to stay here until he came back.  I'm not leaving."

"Listen you fool, the ship is going down.  Skinner wants you up on deck with 
him so that he can save your worthless hide.  As far as I'm concerned you 
can stay down here and drown with the rats."

As Colton turned to leave, Mulder made a quick decision.  "I'm coming with 
you."

"How generous of you, cabin boy.  Well come on, we haven't got all day you 
know."

Mulder ran from the cabin and up on deck.  He could hear Colton's footsteps 
as he came pounding up after him.  The minute Mulder stepped on the slick, 
sea-swept deck he spotted the captain, struggling with the wheel as he 
fought the storm for control of his ship.

Mulder started toward the captain, when he felt a sharp shove to the center 
of his back.  As he lost his balance on the slippery deck, his head hit the 
ship's railing with a loud crack, he felt himself falling for an 
ridiculously long distance, and then everything went black.

Skinner looked up just in time to see Fox go over the side of the ship, Tom 
Colton with his arms stretched outward appearing to be trying desperately to 
catch the young cabin boy before he fell.

Like all experienced seamen, Skinner had taken a long coil of heavy rope and 
lashed himself to his wheel.  He quickly untied the end of the rope from the 
ship and sprinted to where he had seen Fox go overboard.  Without further 
thought, he threw himself into the raging ocean, determined to rescue his 
beloved cabin boy.

John Byers, always quick of thought and action, grabbed the end of the rope, 
the rough hemp flaying the skin from the palms of his hands as he 
desperately held on to the only lifeline to his captain.

Several other crewmen joined the first mate in pulling on the rope, finally 
succeeding in their attempts to tie it off  to the heavy main mast.  In the 
meantime, Langly had quickly manned the wheel, keeping the ship pointed 
bow-first into the blustering storm.

Skinner had no thought as to how he would survive the deadly swell of the 
ocean, or how he would ever get back to his ship.  He cared only about 
finding Fox.  He dove under the waves again and again, his chest aching as 
his breath came in harsh gasps, his eyes stinging from the churning salt 
water that filled them.

He felt panic begin rise up in him just as his foot touched something just 
under the surface of the water.  He dove once more, this time coming up with 
his coveted prize.  The lifeless body of Fox Mulder.

Skinner wrapped one massive arm around Fox's throat, pulling him back 
against his own chest, determined to keep his cabin boy's head well above 
water.  His eyes burned as he frantically looked around, he couldn't locate 
the ship in the heavy swells of the waves that surrounded him on all sides.

"Please God, don't take him away from me."

As if in answer to his prayers, Skinner felt a mighty tug on the rope that 
was still tied around his waist.  He kept his own mouth tightly closed as he 
held on for dear life to his cabin boy's limp body.  He felt himself being 
dragged through the water and what he vehemently hoped was back to his ship.

It seemed he had been in the water for hours, when his eyes finally cleared 
enough to see that he was within sight of The Chauve Terreur.  It was one of 
the most beautiful things he had ever seen.  He readjusted his grip on his 
precious burden, then closed his eyes, knowing he too exhausted to be of 
much help to his crew in hauling the two of them up to safety.

Once on deck, Skinner fell to his knees, Mulder falling hard to the deck in 
front of him.  The captain immediately leaned over, placing his head on 
Mulder's chest, relieved beyond words to hear the steady beat of the young 
man's heart.  He may look like a well-drowned rat, but he was alive!

"Take him to my cabin, and get Dr. Pendrel to look him over.  I'll be there 
shortly."

As Mulder was swiftly carried below, Skinner grabbed Byers in a fierce hug, 
unaware of the man's wince of pain.

"Thank you, John."

The first mate nodded his understanding, then turned back to where Ringo 
Langly still battled the wheel as the ship continued to plow it's way 
through the stormy seas.

Dr. Pendrel had pronounced Mulder to be little more than waterlogged and 
suffering from cold and shock.  The doctor covered the young man with a 
large pile of warm blankets, telling Skinner he would probably sleep for 
several hours. After checking over his protesting captain, Pendrel told the 
man he could return to his command, should he desire to do so.

Much to the ship surgeon's surprise, Skinner refused to leave Mulder's side. 
  Saying only that he trusted Mr. Byers and his crew to see them through 
their peril.

Many hours later, when they were again sailing in calm seas, Skinner emerged 
from his cabin.  He thanked each member of his exhausted crew, and ordered a 
tankard of rum to be served to each man with the evening's meal.  He then 
set a slow steady course that would need little more than his own attention 
for the night.

He turned to where Tom Colton stood.  "Tom, I saw what you did."

"Wh . . .what?"

"I saw you try to catch Fox before he fell overboard.  I have no idea what 
he was doing on deck, but I want you to know that I appreciate your efforts 
to save him, even if they didn't succeed."

"Oh, well . . .it was nothing, sir.  It's my pleasure to be of service to 
you."  Tom said, smiling broadly.

His smile quickly faded as he looked up to see Byers, Langly and Frohike 
watching him with unmistakably suspicious expressions on their grim faces.

The End Part Three

END 1/3