From: To: Subject: [slashingmulder] Fear 3 (M/Sk) Date: Wednesday, 17 October 2001 15:19 ------------------------ Yahoo! Groups Sponsor ---------------------~--> Get your FREE credit report with a FREE CreditCheck Monitoring Service trial http://us.click.yahoo.com/Gi0tnD/bQ8CAA/ySSFAA/6TnxlB/TM ---------------------------------------------------------------------~-> Okay, I know it's been a long, looong time, but here's part 3 in case anybody still remembers. Parts 1 and 2 are on slashingmulder.com, of course. New email address; the old one died on me. Tesa Fear 3 By Tesa tesa_one@yahoo.com DATE: October 16, 2001 RATING: NC-17 CATEGORY: Slash, M/SK, AU, semi-non-con DISCLAIMER: Mulder, Scully, and Skinner belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox Television. This is a not-for-profit fictional excursion. Thank you very much. SUMMARY: Okay, this is a little different. Definitely AU, Mulder finds himself thrown into prison and meets a powerful con named Walter Skinner. Part 3 – Mulder learns something new about himself FEEDBACK: Yes, please. ARCHIVE: Yes ************************************************* Mulder made his way quickly down the hall, trying to project confidence and don't-fuck-with-me attitude. He kept his head up and his eyes always moving, looking for trouble. Even so, he didn't see it coming. One minute he was walking, the next he felt himself slammed hard against the wall, a big arm jammed against his throat, pulling his head up and back. The man that held him wasn't too much bigger than he was, but those eyes…those eyes cut right through him. His heart jumped into high gear while he tried to keep his face expressionless. It was like being confronted by a vicious dog – you never show fear. "Did I say you could walk through my hall, meat?" The arm that held his throat pressed harder, and Mulder knew he wasn't expected to answer. "Ace, you better let him down." The voice came from another man standing a few feet away—a big, biker-looking man with long blond hair. Ace turned his head fractionally. "What for? I think pretty boy here was looking for some action. I'm more than happy to give it to him." "I heard the boy belongs to Skin now. He won't take it kindly if you mess him up." "Skin? No way. He wouldn't stick up for this…fuck meat." Ace turned back to Mulder. "Well, boy? You ready to play? Or you wanna tell me you're Skin's punk? And if you lie, you'll wish you'd never been born." He pulled his arm away slightly. Mulder just couldn't say it. "You got nothin' to say, huh, boy? I guess that means your ass is mine, now." He roughly shoved Mulder around, forcing his face into the wall and kneeing his legs apart. Mulder starting fighting in earnest now, but the man had all the leverage. Ace held him against the wall and laughed. Mulder knew he couldn't get out of it, and he knew he couldn't take this, not when he could stop it with a few words. "I belong to Skin," Mulder gasped out, his face flaming in shame. Ace snorted, but he eased back. "You do, huh?" He jerked Mulder around to face him, smiling at him, enjoying his discomfort. "I'm just not convinced. Maybe you're lying. Maybe you just want to get away from me, and that hurts my feelings. Tell you what, boy, you tell me you're Skin's bitch, you tell me you suck his cock, and I'll believe you." Ace stood there, grinning at Mulder. Shit. Mulder dropped his eyes to the man's cheekbones and with blood roaring in his ears said, "I'm Skin's bitch. I suck his cock." Ace and his friend burst out laughing, and Ace shifted back a couple of steps, freeing Mulder. "Well then. I'm not a man to go after another man's cocksucker, so just run back to your man, boy." Mulder turned and escaped, shame still burning his skin. He made his way to Skin's cell without further mishaps and stood just outside, trying to compose himself. He needed time, but he didn't have it. Skin had commanded his presence after breakfast, and Mulder had a feeling he wasn't used to waiting. He moved to the doorway and looked at the big man lounging on the bunk, reading a book. He was big, but not the biggest man here. He didn't look scary, but a smart man only had to spend a few moments watching to tell he was scary. He had a way about him, a kind of confidence and power that made other men step He ran the place and everyone knew it. He looked up and watched Mulder, his face impassive. "Come in, boy." Mulder, mired in fear and shame and embarrassment as he was, still spared a moment to wish that everybody would stop calling him a boy. He was over forty, for godsakes'. He stepped in, eyes roaming the cell nervously. "What happened?" Mulder started. "What?" Skin just looked at him. Mulder folded. "I ran into a guy in the hall. He let me go. No problem." Skin kept looking. Mulder ducked his head. God, the man wouldn't let him get away with anything. "I ran into a guy in the hall. He…. He was going to fuck me if I didn't say I was your…bitch." Mulder got it out, looking intently at the far corner of the cell. "An ugly word for it, but it is the truth, isn't it, Mulder?" Skin's voice was low and calm. He knew the answer and wanted to hear it. Mulder swallowed. No, the man wasn't going to give him an inch. "Yeah." He nearly choked on it. Skin finally smiled. He was hard. "You said it for him." Mulder looked up. It was a question. "Yeah." "Say it for me." That was a demand. Mulder met Skin's eyes. There was no give there. "I'm your bitch." His face reddened again. Skin almost thought he could come on the words alone—the words, and Mulder's reluctance to say them, his shame at their truth. He sighed with pleasure and finally gave Mulder a break. "I don't like that word either. I prefer the term `boy'. You're my boy, Mulder, and I'm your man. Now let's try again. I want you to take off your clothes for me." Mulder nervously licked his lips and started to strip. He wasn't as scared as he had been—was it just last night? Yeah. He was starting to believe that this man had told him the truth. He kept his eyes on Skin as he took off his clothes and shoved them aside. He had the irrational feeling that as long as he kept meeting the other man's eyes he could hide from where he was and what he was doing. Skin watched, enjoying the show. He appreciated the fact that Mulder was steadier today than last night. He wasn't a kind man by any means, but even he didn't take pleasure in absolute terror. Now some apprehension, a little bit of fear, well, that just added to his pleasure in commanding a man, this man, this former cop. Skin enjoyed the irony of it. He'd always been on the bottom in confrontations with the law. He was planning on enjoying this turnaround for as long as he could wring any drop of pleasure or interest out of it, even if the man wasn't a cop anymore. His eyes surveyed the lean, sleekly muscled man standing awkwardly before him. He knew the man still wasn't physically ready to be fucked yet. What a shame. Skin couldn't wait to mount him. He imagined the feel of his hard, round buttocks under him, cushioning him, and the hot, tight clasp of the man's asshole, and he sighed, telling himself that he was a patient man. He could wait for that. Anticipation was half the fun. Sure it was. He sighed again and decided what he wanted. He dropped his feet to the floor and spread his legs widely, making room. "On your knees, boy," he commanded. Mulder licked his lips and slowly knelt in front of the bigger man. He had a feeling he knew where this was going. His gaze darted down, taking in the growing bulge between the man's thighs, before going back up to meet his eyes. Skin smiled. He'd seen the nervous glance checking out his crotch. "I want to feel your mouth on my balls and on my dick. Then I want you to suck me off. And take your time, boy." Skin leaned back on his hands, waiting. Mulder slowly obeyed, forcing his hands to move, to unbuckle and unzip, to reach in hesitantly and gently free Skin's cock and balls from pants and shorts. He shuffled closer, close enough to feel the heat of the man's thighs enclosing him, close enough to smell the rich scent of his sex. He bowed his head and went closer. He had to press his face to the big man's genitals before he was close enough. He took a breath, drawing the scent deep into his lungs and began to lick Skin's balls. Skin groaned at the soft, slick feel of Mulder's tongue caressing him, sliding around and under his balls, his nose nearly buried in Skin's pubic hair. He looked down at the dark head buried between his legs and almost lost it. Looking away for a moment, he tried distract himself by doing sums in his head. He was going to make this last as long as humanly possible. Maybe longer. Finally the sliding tongue left his balls for the waiting hard, aching cock. Small licks interspersed with long glides worked their way down and around until finally the tongue gently touched the crown, and Skin groaned out loud again. That was it. He couldn't take anymore. "Take me in your mouth, Mulder, but don't suck yet. Just hold my cock safe in that beautiful mouth of yours." Startled eyes jerked to meet his momentarily before going back down as the man did as he was told. His mouth opened and he slid his lips down the length of Skin's cock, taking it as deep as he comfortably could. They stayed like that for long moments, Skin breathing deeply, trying to hold on, Mulder, his hands braced awkwardly on the bed on either side of Skin's legs, his mouth hot and wet around the big man's cock. He'd been trying not to think as he did what he had to do, what Skin wanted him to do. He'd been moderately successful, almost losing himself in his concentration. Now he had time to think. Kneeling in front of the bigger man, his mouth full of his cock, Mulder forced himself to admit that he wasn't…this wasn't…as bad as he'd feared. Come on Mulder, don't lie to yourself, he thought. Not now. You're getting a sick charge out of this. And he was. As he was losing his fear of this man and gaining a little trust that he wasn't about to be thrown down, beaten and raped, he was beginning to find the whole situation…interesting. He'd always been curious about what sex with a man would be like, and here it was, being handed to him, so to speak. There was nothing he could do to stop this or change it, so…why not? And Skin…God, the man was power and strength personified. He was big and solid and more man than Mulder had ever seen. Confidence and control, this man had it all, and Mulder had to admit that he was drawn to that. It calmed him, gave him a sense of safety and security that he couldn't remember ever having before. Being the cop, trained observer and psychologist that he was, he knew that all this could be no more than a mirage, a result of the so- called Stockholm Syndrome in which a hostage identifies with his captor in sheer mental and physical self-defense. It very well could be. But he didn't think so. He thought wryly that there was simply an unexpected kink to his sexual identity that he'd never dreamed of before this. Mulder held Skin's cock in his mouth and liked it. "Boy, look at me." Skin shifted to free his hands, laying them gently on Mulder's dark hair. Mulder lifted his eyes, wondering what was next. "I'm going to thrust a bit deeper in your mouth. I want you to relax and take it. I'll go in just a bit, for just a second. You might gag, but I want you to remember that I'm not going to choke you, and I'm not going to suffocate you. I've got a use for you, after all." Skin smiled, amused. Mulder felt his heart kick up its beat, but he believed him. The man didn't want him dead, especially since he hadn't even fucked him yet. His eyes signaled his understanding and Skin still smiled as he gave a slow, gentle thrust into Mulder's mouth, maybe an inch or two deeper than was comfortable. Mulder fought back the instinctive gag reflex, trying to accommodate the intrusion, trying to take it, and he did. Skin pulled back. "Good boy. Now I'm going to do it again, I'm going to give you some slow thrusts, and I'll go deeper every time. I won't stay long. Relax, Mulder, and just take it. Relax, boy." He began again, giving the boy the slow, gentle thrusts he'd promised, gradually going deeper, giving the man time to breathe in between. He still didn't give it all to him, but there was time. Oh, yes, they had the time. But now…now, Skin was ready to come. "All right, boy. I'm going to give you one last deep thrust, and then I'll pull back and come in your mouth. I want you to swallow it all. Swallow everything I give you, Mulder. You hear me?" Mulder blinked his eyes deliberately and tried to relax his throat as Skin thrust deep. His throat constricted automatically, and gagging, Mulder started to choke, but Skin pulled back smoothly and grunted as he came, filling Mulder's mouth with his hot semen. Skin held onto the man's head until he swallowed it all, then slowly, reluctantly pulled back, out of his mouth. "That felt great, Mulder. Thank you. You're a quick learner. A bit more practice and I know you'll be the best cocksucker I ever had." He tucked himself away and sprawled back on the bed. Relaxed and satisfied, he finally noticed that the man kneeling in front of him was half hard. At that sight, his mouth quirked in a smile and he felt a flare of heat in his belly. "I want you here every morning after breakfast. You'll suck me off like a good boy, and we'll see how quickly you can learn to deep- throat me." He saw Mulder glance up, a questioning look on his face before he blanked it out. "Question?" Mulder swallowed nervously. Did he really want to bring this up? But he had to know. "When…when do you plan to…." "Fuck you?" Skin was amused. "Don't worry, boy. We'll get to that. I told you that I don't intend to hurt you more than I have to, and I meant it. I'll give you a few days, maybe a week, and then I'll take a look at your ass, see if you're ready for me. And in the meantime, you'll learn to suck my cock like a professional." "Now go on. I'll see you at lunch." Mulder turned as he rose, trying to hide his semi-hard cock, and hurriedly pulled on his clothes. He needed to go to ground and think. With one last glance back at the man lying on the bunk, he left. In the days that followed, time behaved oddly for Mulder. He dutifully appeared at Skin's cell every morning after breakfast and practiced his newly learned skills and was duly rewarded with a bellyful of hot semen along with Skin's smile and gentle praise. Then he was dismissed. The time spent on his knees in front of the big man seemed vivid and bright and went quickly, while the rest of the day remained as gray and dull as the cement floor of the prison and dragged on forever. No one bothered him. Every man knew who owned him, even the guards. Mulder saw their gloating smirks as he sat at Skin's table, and the knot of shame that lived in his belly grew a little bigger. He was torn. In conflict, his training submitted. He'd lived his life alone, basically. His parents—well, they had done their duty, providing food and shelter, but nothing more. After his sister… disappeared, his life…got worse. They blamed him, really, for being there while she was gone. He had always known she was the favorite, but it had been all right, because she was his favorite, too. His mother preferred to ignore him when she wasn't looking at him with accusing eyes. His father—no, he couldn't think about that. He went to college alone, went to the F.B.I. alone, did his work alone. Yes, there had been women, a very few, but mostly because it was expected, Mulder thought now. He'd never really invested much into those relationships. He had a few friends—Scully and the Lone Gunmen, anyway, along with the occasional college friend and professional acquaintance—there were a few that didn't believe him to be crazy. The point of it all, he thought, was that he'd never allowed himself to be totally vulnerable. He had been afraid, afraid of being rejected, afraid of being hurt, afraid of being told that he wasn't good enough, afraid of losing the only thing he had—his career, Mulder had never even admitted to himself what he wanted, what he needed. He wanted a man. He needed…. God, this was hard. He needed a man that could take control when he couldn't give it up. He needed a man that would force him to take exactly what he wanted. Every morning he went to Skin's cell and sucked him off, and he loved it. He loved stripping for the man, sinking to his knees in front of him, taking his hard cock in his mouth, learning to take it deeper in his throat, hearing the sounds of his pleasure, the groan when he came, filling Mulder's mouth with his hot semen. He loved the strong hands that cupped his face or threaded through his hair as he went down on him. He loved watching the big man settle back on the bed, limp and satisfied. He loved the rumble of deep voice that thanked him and sent him away. At first it had just been a little warmth in his belly, a stirring of his sex. Now he was hard before he stripped, and he stayed that way throughout the blow-job. He knew Skin had noticed. It would be impossible for him not to notice. He hadn't said anything or so much as given a pointed glance or grin at Mulder's reaction. It was that lack of acknowledgement that defused Mulder's shame and embarrassment. Skin's deliberate blindness gave him time to begin to understand what was happening to him and to accept it. He wasn't so much becoming a wholly different person as he was finally recognizing there was something out there he'd never known he wanted. It was hard. He thought he'd known who he was. He'd been wrong. He knew that he should feel terrified, horrified, disgusted, ashamed, everything that a rape victim was supposed to feel. He didn't. He couldn't. Realizing he wasn't the man he always thought he'd been—well, that was the difficult part. Admitting it, accepting it, understanding and allowing himself to look forward to serving Skin every morning— that was the nearly impossible part. He gave a wry little smile, laughing at himself. Luckily for him, he didn't have a choice. 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