Disclaimer: The characters from the show aren’t mine, they belong to others. No copyright infringement intended. Any characters you don’t recognise are mine. Again, if someone’s used the name(s) or storyline(s) elsewhere, the same applies  Feedback would be nice, positive feedback would be nicer. Enjoy!

 

Author: Susanna

Feedback: Yes please! Fanficwriter101@aol.com  or on the site where you read the fic - whatever’s easiest for you!
Category: X-Files BDSM fantasy fic

Rating: NC-17 for some scenes

Characters: Skinner, Scully plus Catherine (new character unless you’ve read my other fics)

Series: Yes Part One

Spoilers: None intended. This is probably PRE season one!

Summary: How do you become a Master? By being a sub to an experienced Mistress. Skinner regrets his decision. Several times.

Archive: Just tell me where it’s going

Additional stuff: Canon gets a little overlooked here. Fox is the new boy, not Walter.

Warning: Domestic and other severe discipline. This is NOT bed-time reading!

 

Title: Mistress knows best

 

Present day…

 

Skinner sighed as he walked into the bedroom. A collar lay on the pillow, the strip of dark leather an unavoidable message. Stripping, he took a long, hot shower. Turning the water to cold for the last few seconds, he gasped as his hot skin was instantly chilled.

 

Two years earlier…

 

Ever since he had approached the owner of the most discreet BDSM club in DC, he had been subject to her rules. Agreeing to train him, she had left him for a week to consider the conditions of their arrangement. A key to his apartment. Not a problem. He had nothing to hide. Out of work time she was to have first call on his free time. Again, as his social life consisted of attending bureau parties and the occasional reunion of his USMC buddies, not a big adjustment. It was the final one which bothered him the most. Allowing her access to his thoughts and feelings. Instantly and with complete honesty. For the emotionally buttoned-up AD, the final condition she insisted on almost caused him to reject it immediately.

 

I’m…not sure I can…’

 ‘Then you should find someone else.’

Blushing, he had stammered: ‘You were…recommended. I don’t want…anyone else.’

 

 Catherine had smiled. A kind smile, non-judgemental. She understood how difficult he was finding this. But it was nothing compared to how difficult he would find the next six months. And she wanted to be sure he understood that there would be no turning back once they had started. She explained her rules in detail – there would be no opportunity later for him to complain he hadn’t fully understood what he was agreeing to. 

 

‘Go home Walter. Come back next Friday. But make sure you’ve thought carefully about your decision before you come back. I’m not an easy Mistress to please. If you fail to please me, you will suffer the consequences.’

 

************

‘Walter, come here.’

Quietly but swiftly, Walter came to Catherine’s side, standing almost militarily erect, hands behind his back but with his head down.

‘Did you do as I asked?’

‘Yes Mistress. I have taken the week off.’

Kim had been surprised. In all the years she had worked for AD Skinner, he had never, ever taken a whole week off at such short notice. But she sensed something was bothering him and didn’t ask any questions.

‘Then we’ll start tonight.’

 

Walter couldn’t help the signs of panic he knew showed as he stood in the doorway of the room which had remained locked until the end of this fifth month of training. He guessed what it was. As the door unlocked, Catherine walked in, flicking on only a couple of soft lamps. ‘Come in.’

Despite his instruction to the contrary, Walter couldn’t help looking up. ‘Walter.’ The soft voice, disappointment evident in the tone, snapped his eyes back to the thickly-carpeted floor.

Walter chastised himself angrily. Dammit. After all this time, you still can’t do as you’re told.

Catherine knew Walter well enough to know he was berating himself, and she understood he was harder on himself for his now-infrequent lapses of obedience than she ever could be. So she made no further comment, moving to stand at the side of a large leather-covered metal table. ‘Strip Walter.’ In deference to his continuing need for time to adjust to the mind-set required for their weekends, Catherine busied herself with preparations for the evening ahead while she waited for the sound of Walter’s belt being unbuckled. As soon as she heard the familiar sound, she turned, watching him as he divested himself of his belt, tie, shirt, pants, undershirt, boxers and, finally, socks. Even after all the previous occasions, Walter still stared at the carpet, cheeks burning as Catherine watched him undress.

 

When he was finally naked, she patted the table. ‘Climb up.’

 

Over the next five days, they worked their way through the entire room. Catherine explained the safe use and potential dangers of each piece of equipment. Although Catherine used little force, and made sure to alternate an item from her room designed to cause discomfort with one intended to produce pleasurable sensations, Walter’s flesh was covered in pale welts and small bruises at the end of the fifth day of demonstration after demonstration. His muscles ached – an unusual sensation for him – after being forced into various uncomfortable positions and held there by leather, rope, or chain.

 

But the physical discomfort was nothing in comparison to the emotional pain. Required to submit completely to Catherine’s will, Walter fought an internal struggle which threatened to overwhelm him. At the end of the first day, as stroked his warm skin with a bundle of birch twigs, Catherine heard a loud groan. Concerned at his pale face, she quickly unfastened the Velcro around the nylon cuffs holding him to the wooden upright and Walter dropped to the floor.

 

After a few seconds, his eyes opened. ‘Wha…where…’

Catherine knelt at his side, supporting him as he regained consciousness. ‘Hey there.’

‘What happened?’

Catherine smiled. ‘I was hoping you could tell me.’

‘I can’t…submit.’

Catherine stroked his damp forehead. ‘Give it time.’

 

***************

 

He had found punishing another human being for some slip impossible to begin with. Fit and muscled, he was able to defend himself if the need arose. But he couldn’t bring himself to use his strength against a trembling, frequently genuinely penitent, sub passed to him from their Dom for punishment.

 

Eventually, despairing, Catherine took him aside. Over coffee, Catherine came out with a carefully-rehearsed speech. ‘Walter, if you don’t punish your sub for wrongdoing, two things will happen. One, they will repeat the offence. And, more importantly, they won’t respect you. Without respect, you are lost. A sub looks to you for guidance. If you can’t give it, they will look elsewhere.’

Skinner’s voice dropped in volume. ‘I can’t. I just can’t.’

Catherine shook her head sadly. ‘Then I’ve wasted five months.’ She looked into Skinner’s face, saw his hurt at her words and took a deep breath. ‘We’re going to get you through this. Sit here.’

Skinner moved to her side and sat silently, hoping his shaking wasn’t too obvious.

‘Remember we talked about how I wanted you to tell me everything you were thinking and feeling?’

Walter nodded.

‘There’s something stopping you. I don’t know what it is. I want you to tell me.’

Walter flushed deeply. Catherine waited patiently, not moving. Eventually, Walter whispered: ‘They’re not mine to punish.’

Catherine put a hand on Walter’s cheek, stroking gently. He moved towards the caress, wanting to make up for his earlier failure.

‘Close your eyes. Okay. I want you to think of someone. Doesn’t matter who. Someone who misbehaves. Gets into trouble. Makes you want to put them over your knee. Someone who is yours to punish. You see them?’

Walter nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘Describe them.’

‘Tall. Dark hair. Buzz cut. Like he just stepped out of a DOD recruiting poster.’

‘Keep your eyes closed.’ Catherine reached forward and gently pulled Skinner’s wire-rims off. Getting up, she also dimmed the lights on her way out.

Keeping his eyes closed, habit made Walter look up as Catherine got to her feet. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t be long.’

 

************

 

Catherine looked in the mirror. Living above the club had one advantage. She didn’t have far to go at the end of the night. Or in situations like this. She needed some thinking time away from the usual faces who smiled politely when they saw her. She knew most of them by name, all of them by sight, and they frequently relied on her discretion and knowledge of their various personalities when they were in trouble. And Walter was in big trouble. There was no way he was going to be able to take on a slave or even a sub of his own if he couldn’t discipline them. He even found it hard to verbally chastise an errant sub in scenes she deliberately set up. Walking into the bathroom, Catherine splashed cold water on her face. Although she wore little make-up, she began to see the tiredness in her eyes, the lines around them more pronounced than a few months earlier.

 

 Pulling herself upright, she walked back down, deliberately walking through the club’s main room as she did so. The few minutes extra gave her much-needed time to work out the details of what she had decided. She saw the man she wanted. ‘Simon.’

 

The hand on his shoulder startled the younger man. ‘Catherine?’

‘I have a favour to ask. Come with me.’

 

*************

 

‘You wanted to see me sir?’

In the dim light and without his glasses, Walter could almost have imagined it was Captain Benson in front of him. But the voice gave it away. Pushing that to the back of his mind, Walter nodded. ‘Yes…’ He couldn’t quite bring himself to address the young man as ‘Benson’, but…

Unhooking his belt, Simon came across to where the man sat. Dropping his chinos and boxers, he unhesitatingly, he draped himself across Walter’s lap. Startled, Walter almost jumped up. But his arm came across, almost instinctively, holding the younger man safely in place.

‘It’s okay sir. I deserve this. Please, punish me. I trust you.’

Walter swallowed hard. He hadn’t expected to feel differently. Sure he was going to react as he always did, he felt calm. When he didn’t, he was suddenly uneasy.

 

Catherine’s gentle voice came from the far corner of the room. ‘Don’t keep him waiting Walter. Get it over with. It’s correction, not punishment.’

As she spoke, Catherine almost screamed with frustration. Even now he needed guidance. Simon was perfectly behaved; keeping quite still until Walter’s large hand came to rest on his warm flesh. He landed the first smack almost gently, and felt no reaction from the prone body beneath his hand. Picturing Benson and remembering how troublesome the young recruit had been, assuming his rank gave him sway over the six-month veterans under his command. The second was firmer, and each subsequent smack landed in a slightly different place until the ten swats were delivered. Simon was gasping for breath as he realised the spanking was over. If she had asked him, Walter wouldn’t have been able to explain to Catherine why he had stopped at ten. It just seemed…enough.

 

Somehow, Walter remembered Catherine’s instructions and lifted Simon carefully upright, mindful of his sore flesh. Hugging him tightly, his fingers, gripping through the thick hair, he whispered: ‘All done. You’re forgiven.’

Stifling his hiss of pain, Simon said softly: ‘Thank you sir.’

Lifting himself to his feet, Simon reached for his boxers and pulled them over his painful flesh. Once he had fastened his belt, he left.

 

‘Bathroom’s through there Walter.’ Catherine pointed to a door a few feet away. Despite his size, he moved quickly and Catherine sat back, a self-satisfied smile on her face, as she waited for his return.

 

Walter emerged from the bathroom more sure than he had been at the beginning that he was never, ever, going to get past his intense dislike of using physical violence in a non-threatening situation. Catherine’s effortless way of controlling him still evaded him as she allowed him to work with willing, fully trained, subs. He struggled, and still occasionally failed, to control his voice, his temper, his emotions. Catherine reassured, cajoled, and, occasionally, disciplined him. He had started out knowing he wanted to top. To be a Dom. A Master. All these months later, he’d ended up someone who couldn’t even spank a guy who recreated his wildest fantasy, who asked for it and thanked him afterwards, without puking five minutes later.

‘I’m sorry.’ Walter’s cheeks burned with embarrassment.

‘Why?’

‘Because of…what happened.

Catherine put a hand to his cheek and stroked gently. ‘Walter, I am so proud of you. You did it.’

Walter frowned. ‘What?’

Very gently, moving slowly so she didn’t spook him, Catherine removed the collar at Walter’s neck. Hazy eyes focussed on the collar in her hands. ‘Mistress?’

‘It’s time for you to give this to someone else Walter. Come with me. Oh, and you can call me Catherine.’

Reaching for outstretched hand, Skinner got up and followed Catherine out.

 

**************

 

‘You need someone who is less experienced than you are. And finding someone like that isn’t going to be easy.’ As she spoke, Catherine saw Walter’s reaction to her words. ‘Walter, I didn’t mean that in a mean way. You are inexperienced. If I put you with an experienced sub, they’ll walk all over you. You need to start with someone who thinks you know everything there is to know and that they know nothing.’

‘They’ll work it out in a second.’

‘Not if you’re the only Master they’ve ever had. Leave it with me. I’ll find someone for you. Soon.’

 

*************

Six months later…

 

‘Thanks for meeting me.’

Walter frowned. ‘Ian, what is it? You look terrible.’

‘I’ve been offered promotion.’

Walter was lost. ‘And that’s making you ill?’

‘At our other office.’

‘Where?’

Singapore.’

Walter understood then. ‘So you’re not gonna be able to come by on the weekends.’

Ian shook his head sadly. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Why are you sorry? This is a wonderful opportunity for you.’

‘But we won’t see each other…’

‘We can visit.’

‘It won’t be the same.’

Walter forced a smile. ‘You’ll find someone else. I’ll ask Catherine if she knows anyone out there.’

Ian’s whisper, partly deliberate because of the lunchtime crowd in the restaurant, was tinged with pain. ‘I’ll miss you.’

Walter smiled. ‘I’ll miss you too. When are you leaving?’

‘I have until the end of the month.’

Walter forced brightness he didn’t feel into his voice. ‘Two more weekends then.’

Ian nodded. ‘Yeah.’

 

*************

 

‘Walter?’ Catherine came across, a concerned look on her face. ‘Is Ian unwell? I thought you spent weekends together.’

Walter stared into his beer. ‘He’s gone. Promotion. To Singapore.’

‘Oh you poor thing. Why didn’t you tell me?’

Walter shrugged. ‘It’s okay.’

Catherine put a hand on Walter’s arm until he looked up. ‘You need cheering up.’

Walter shook his head, grabbing his jacket and getting up. ‘No thanks. Not today.’

Catherine sighed. ‘Well, if you’re sure. You take care, okay?’

Walter nodded. ‘Yeah.’

 

************

 

Present day…

 

Wearing the collar somehow gave Walter reassurance. Catherine would take care of him. He didn’t have to be responsible for anyone any more. He felt a tremendous sense of relief. Walking into the club, he looked around, saw Catherine, and smiled. She was in conversation with a young man. Correction, Walter thought, a man whose looks hid his true age. Perhaps early thirties. But with the thick, dark hair. And a suit which had come from a store where if you had to ask the price, you couldn’t afford the goods.

‘Walter!’ Catherine spotted him and called across. Obediently, he walked to her side. ‘Walter, this is Fox. Fox, Walter is looking for a sub. I’ll leave you two to chat.’

 

Served his customary single beer without being asked, Walter took a deep swallow before looking at the young man on the barstool next to him. ‘So, what do you do?’

‘I’m with the FBI. I’m being transferred to the DC office next week, and I wanted to get settled in.’

Hoping his disquiet didn’t show, Walter said: ‘FBI, huh?’

‘Yuh. I’m gonna be working under this ex-Marine. AD Skinner. Know him?’

Skinner fought his urge to smile. Carefully, he said: ‘You’re looking at him.’

To his credit, Fox didn’t spit his mouthful of beer across the room. He managed to get it all onto Walter’s denim-clad legs. ‘Shit! Sorry. Oh no…’

Skinner reached across for a handful of napkins and began to dry his jeans.

Calmly, he said: ‘Now, one of us is gonna leave. I just got here. And I’m guessing you’re a sub. See you in a week.’

Fox scrambled off the barstool and disappeared out the door.

 

Continued in Part Two…