Mistress Dana's Master by Merri-Todd Webster Dana Scully collapsed on her bed with a deep and heartfelt groan. God, what a day. It had been a miracle that she hadn't just shot Mulder again and aimed right for the heart this time. Yes, they'd wrapped up the case successfully, but Mulder had contrived to lose his gun, her gun, his cellphone, her cellphone, his driver's license, her pumps, and control of the car, resulting in over a thousand dollars' damage in broken plate glass. Skinner had stomped all over him verbally for being such a complete and total fool and then rounded on her to ask, in effect, why she couldn't keep her fruitcake of a partner under control. She'd come within a breath of asking Skinner for a leash and a collar to put on Mulder. Her next move after that would have been hitting Skinner with a fast-acting tranquilizer; she was really starting to worry that her boss was on the high road to a major stroke, and she didn't want to be a contributing factor. A leash and a collar for Mulder... and a collar for Skinner. Emboldened by her state of exhaustion, the dreamweaving side of her brain proposed a new revenge fantasy--Walter Skinner as her obedient slave. She'd gotten a lot of mileage out of fantasies starring Mulder as her slave and herself as a leather-clad "Mistress". It did wonders for facilitating relaxation, and it also made a wonderful coping mechanism for those times when he was driving her batty--like the last three days. Every time he'd made another lame attempt to be witty, she'd pictured his brown head between her thighs, held in place by a tight grip on his collar. And his hands cuffed behind his back. That image had brought a tiny smile to her face every time she thought of it and kept her from shooting him. Maybe it would help her to get over today's merciless verbal thrashing if she had Skinner under her lash, figuratively speaking. Dana rolled over on the bed, kicked off the cheap pumps she'd picked up at Payless to replace her good ones (My only burgundy pair, she mourned), and then peeled off her panties and hose. She was too tired to go further and take off the rest of her clothes, but that didn't prevent her from picturing herself in the Mistress costume: black leather corset, black silk thong panties, a gaudy emerald necklace, fishnet stockings, and absolutely foot-killing fuck-me black boots. *** Mistress Dana strolled across the wine-colored carpet toward the dark oak door at the other end of the room. One hand toyed with the handsome necklace of silver-set emeralds at her throat; the other casually held one end of a leash. The other end of the leash was attached to a black leather collar encircling the throat of her obedient and faithful slave, Fox Mulder, who crawled hastily after her on his hands and knees. She reached the door and had raised her hand to knock when it suddenly opened, flying inward to reveal the tall, imposing figure of her Master, Walter. *** Frowning, Dana shook her head. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. She was going to gag Walter Skinner and flog him aesthetically and then fuck him senseless, in this fantasy. This was the plan, her plan, her fantasy, I can have it my way, she thought defiantly. Dana hadn't reckoned on the strength of the dreaming mind, however. Despite her conscious control of the fantasy, she couldn't conjure up a convincing image of Skinner on his knees, collared and cuffed and submissive, awaiting her wrath or her pleasure. It had been easy to do that with Mulder, but try as she might, the image-making part of her brain produced the image of Walter in black leather pants--tight pants--and a black leather vest, open at the front to reveal an endless expanse of muscular, hairy chest and abs. His wrists circled with silver-studded leather cuffs. His handcuffs and gun prominently displayed at his belt. His usual surly scowl plastered on his ruggedly handsome face. And the crotch of those pants.... *** "You're late, Dana," Skinner growled. //Oh, what the hell, let's go with it, Dana thought.// Mistress Dana lowered her eyes submissively. "I am sorry, Master. I had trouble controlling my slave properly." Skinner grunted. "Well, considering what I know of Fox's behavior, you may be excused for that. Give him to me." He held out his hand, and Dana placed the end of Fox's leash into her master's broad palm. "Come along, Fox." Skinner strode in the room ahead of Dana, practically dragging Fox after him. Dana took her usual place by her master's massive oaken chair, kneeling gracefully and settling down on her heels. //Ouch! Those heels! Well, this *is* a fantasy....// From beneath her lashes, she watched as Master Skinner efficiently hauled Fox upright and fastened him into ankle and wrist restraints attached to the wall. The wrist restraints were just far enough apart to make him stretch a little, to put an arch into that beautiful back and show off his torso, slimmer and less hairy than her Master's but quite lovely nonetheless. *** Sighing, Dana unfastened her skirt and wriggled out of it, then spread her legs to let some cooling air into the moist hollows of her body. *** "There," Master Skinner growled. Then he crossed to Dana with that surprisingly swift, graceful stride of his and sat down in the carved wood chair, pulling her head onto his knee and stroking her hair with a possessive touch. "Have you been a good girl?" he rumbled. Dana rubbed her cheek against the solid heat of his knee. "Yes, Master." Shockingly, his fingers twined hard into her hair, pulling her head back and forcing her to meet angry dark eyes. "Don't lie to me, Dana!" he barked. "Do you call it being *good* when you allow your slave to destroy others' property wantonly and endanger your life as well as his own?" Her cheeks were scarlet, her mouth dry as the Mojave. She licked her lips. "No, Master." Skinner eased his grip just a trifle, bent forward until they were nearly nose to nose. Dana could feel the heat of his breath, smell the masculine tang of him under the scent of the leather. His voice was a dangerous whisper. "Do you need to be punished, Dana?" She swallowed painfully. "Yes, Master." He needed only one hand, and very little effort, to lift her and haul her across his lap. The corset rode up Dana's back, exposing her bottom even more. Skinner caressed the round, white cheeks with one large hand. "Your punishment, Fox," he said to the restrained slave across the room, "will be to witness her punishment and know that your actions led to this." *** //Oh, great,// Dana thought. //He screws up and I get punished. Isn't that the way it always works?// Nevertheless, the fantasy was turning her on. She shimmied out of the rest of her clothes and reached to the bedside table for her vibrator. *** The first slap took her by surprise. It always did. Her master's heavy hand covered almost her whole bottom, heating her up and sending powerful vibrations through her flesh to all her most sensitive spots. "What do you say, Dana?" "Thank you, Master!" Again his hand descended on her derriere, making a resounding slapping noise. "Thank you, Master!" Dana turned her head and saw that her slave's gaze was riveted on this sight, his mistress turned over her master's lap, helpless in the big man's grasp, panting as he spanked her bottom. Fox's expression was torn between contrition and arousal, but the rest of his body knew no ambiguity--his erection stood out at an impressive angle. Again Skinner struck her. "Thank you, Master!" Each time he spanked her, her whole body quivered with the force of it. Each time he spanked her, her body opened up for more--nipples spiked, clitoris engorged, vulva spreading its folds and seeping with nectar. She had never been so aroused. *** Twisting a little on the blue comforter, Dana ran the trusty vibrator over her folds. She was already wet enough to feel wet, to dip the penis-shaped tip of the wand into her core and bring it out smooth and slippery, to feel delicate tremors in her hips and thighs as she did so. *** At last, it was over. She had tried to keep count, mentally, but had lost track after about twenty strokes. Her cheeks were dewed with tears, and her whole body felt hot and flushed, hypersensitive to whatever might come next. Master Skinner dumped her almost roughly on the floor. "Kneel up," he commanded harshly, and her heart almost leapt out of her chest. He got to his feet. The smell of him overpowered her, first--sweat and desire and leather and *him*, some scent that was always on him underneath cologne and soap and starch. Then the size of him awed her, as always--As big as my forearm, she thought. That was an exaggeration, but Master Skinner was a large man, both tall and broad, and his cock matched the rest of him, long, thick, and elegantly sculpted. Dana needed no prompting to wrap her lips around the head. "Don't touch yourself," he growled, and she whimpered in frustration. *** Whimpering a little in real life, Dana pressed the vibrator in and pinched one nipple gently. Maybe I should get a bigger vibrator, she thought. *** Dana used all her oral skill to pleasure her Master's massive cock. There was no way she could swallow his entirety, but she made up for it by covering every inch of it with adoring lips and tongue, kissing, licking, nibbling, returning at last to the formidable crown to suck firmly on as much of it as she could take in. Master Skinner moaned appreciatively, the strong fingers clenching in her hair giving both guidance and approval. His hips moved in short controlled thrusts, never giving her too much; they both knew how easily he could hurt her, and she trusted him never to cross that line. The sting of her bottom was not pain, simply another intense sensation like the dripping wetness of her cunt, the stiffness of her nipples, the thunderous pounding of her heart. She was so lost in the taste of him, salty and earthy and hot, that she groaned aloud when he pulled his cock from her welcoming mouth. She thought she heard her slave groan, too, but he didn't matter at the moment. She raised her eyes imploringly, lips parted, awaiting the next signal from her Master. Skinner smiled tightly, trailing his fingers over her flushed cheek. "Good girl." He sat down again and drew her onto his lap, facing away from him with her knees outside of his. She shivered delightedly as he tugged at her nipples. "Are you aroused now, Dana?" Skinner's voice had dropped to a purr, if a lion could purr. "Yes, Master." "Is it bad, Dana?" He was smiling. "Yes, Master?" "Do you want me to take care of you, Dana?" She quivered as his hand crept down from her breastbone to her stomach. "Yes, Master." "Am I the only one who can satisfy you, Dana?" She turned and looked into fathomless dark eyes. Everything in her melted. "Yes, Master." *** Hah, Dana thought. Wish Mulder could overhear *this* fantasy. She moved the vibrator with a slow but steady beat, in and out. *** Master Skinner's large fingers easily pulled aside the sticky silk of her thong panties to explore the stickier flesh beneath. She was nearly dripping with her pleasure, her desire. She held herself still, obedient, as his touch moved over her wet folds, then jerked uncontrollably, once, as he closed thumb and forefinger over her clit, causing a swift, silent orgasm. The Master wrapped one arm around her and slipped two fingers into her moist depths. *** The vibrator was moving so easily now--she turned it up to a higher buzz--and Dana was getting pretty close. Skinner certainly did look good in black leather--and Mulder was cute, when she remembered to think of him, with that pathetic expression on his face. She thought she'd better hurry the fantasy along. *** Dana whimpered and squirmed, fucking herself on the thick fingers that moved inside her so expertly. "Please, Master, please," she begged, her voice reduced to a hoarse growl. "Please give me your cock!" He moved her so easily she was disoriented for a moment. Then she cried out, agonized, triumphant, as her Master's huge cock filled her, stretched her. Strong hands on her waist moved her up and down, up and down, and she moved with them, panting, her own fingers going to her throbbing clit. "Look at her, Fox!" Skinner barked between clenched teeth. "Look at your Mistress, look at her face, see how she feels. *You* could never make her feel like this--only *I* am her master!" Dana shrieked with the first of a string of climaxes, and Fox cried out, too, twisting in his bonds like St. Sebastian. The feel of her cunt muscles clenching on Skinner's huge organ was pleasure almost unbearable, and she went limp in his hands, swaying, head lolling, as he forced her down onto his shaft and then bucked up into her, snarling wildly with his own hot, wet climax. She was still trembling when he lifted her off his lap, got up, and set her in the chair. With dazed eyes, she watched her Master stalk over to Fox, her slave, advancing on him with feline intensity. She gasped as Skinner fastened his mouth to Fox's in an almost brutal kiss and wrapped his hand around Fox's cock. Fox arched into the Master's hand, making smothered noises against Skinner's relentless mouth. Dana watched, rapt, her insides still pulsing with the aftershocks of pleasure, as her Master brought the younger man to orgasm with a few hard, knowing strokes, not breaking the kiss until it was over. Fox writhed elegantly, his long throat working above the black leather collar, his noises muted, and filled the Master's hand with creamy liquid that spilled over and pooled on the floor. *** Dana came so forcefully she did cry out, a sharp noise as much surprised as ecstatic. When she had recovered enough to remove the vibrator and put it aside, she lay on the bed for a few more minutes, reviewing the fantasy and wondering where *that* had come from--that last startling image of Skinner jerking Mulder off. She'd never thought about watching two men before, least of all her partner and her boss. But it certainly had been... stimulating. Maybe it's an idea whose time has come, she thought, smiling, and got up to wash off the vibrator. ********* end