DARK SUNSET by Mort

Book One: Part Eleven

Skinner was so furious with Mulder, with Frohike and with the situation in general that he sat stone-faced and silent for a long time in the corner of Mulder's room. He clung onto his anger and nurtured it carefully, returning to tend the flame of outrage whenever his common sense tried to remind him that none of this was *anyone's* fault, except for that of the aliens.

Mulder had flung away his stylus and pad in tearful disgust and had dragged himself back onto his mattress, curling up in misery with his back to the older man. Skinner was trying not to look at him. It wasn't only the silent sobs that wracked Mulder's body that threatened to break through Skinner's determination not to allow any other emotions inside himself, it was also the intensely disturbing fact that his eyes kept sliding sideward of their own volition to stare at the lush tail that plugged Mulder's ass.

He decided his fascination with that part of Mulder's anatomy had to be caused by the alien drugs that had kept his own cock painfully stiff and leaking since he had been injected. The continuous throb in his balls, the almost overwhelming urge to plunge his cock into *any* available flesh, both of these were so offensive to him that he could only handle them with an emotion as bright and hard as anger.

As he'd told Mulder, he wasn't gay. He wasn't even bi. If he were completely truthful with himself, it was more than simply a matter of his own sexual preference. Although he wasn't proud of the self-admission, the truth was that he'd always found the idea of homosexuality to be both distasteful and unnatural. Although he'd always prided himself on his ability to keep his prejudices buried and had never knowingly allowed himself to act in any way that  would reveal his deep-seated feelings of distaste, he found the idea of two men coupling together disgusting.

To be placed in a situation where he would be forced to rape another man was soul-shattering enough but the idea of participating in a semi-voluntary sexual act with Mulder, even to save both their lives, was somehow even worse.

So, although every instinct in his body was insisting that he offered Mulder some comfort and understanding, and despite the pain he felt in his heart as the younger man sobbed silently in front of him, his own self-defense insisted that he ignored Mulder's misery because...

...well, it was pretty damned obvious, wasn't it?  Mulder was gay. He had to be gay. No *real* man would have adjusted so well to the aliens' abuse unless deep-down he enjoyed being sexually abused and dominated by another man.

That decided, it was easier to distance himself from Mulder's obvious misery and concentrate on his own anger.

He was going to have to 'service' Mulder. He accepted that. The only alternative to complying with that humiliating prospect was torture and death. While a large part of Skinner was tempted to simply fight the Albrecx so he could die with his pride intact, he found himself unable to turn his back on the rest of the human race. For whatever fucked-up reason, Frohike had implanted him with a communication device that was obviously vital to the resistance's plans. He had to find that device, activate it and discover what the fuck he was supposed to be doing up here other than publicly stuffing Mulder's ass.

If there *was* any chance that he could help the resistance, he had to take it. If only for the satisfaction of returning to the surface and breaking Frohike's neck.

And if he *could* somehow make Mulder's life here easier, he'd do it. Mulder was one of *his* men, and wasn't *really* responsible for way he was being used by the aliens. Given the way his own body was reacting to the alien drug, he couldn't even really blame Mulder for his sluttish behavior. Presumably Mulder's *need* to be fucked was as strong as the growing imperative in his own groin. If so, he deserved more sympathy than condemnation.

Even if he *was* gay.

Oh please, Mulder begged silently, please stop fucking about, Skinner.

The vacuum suction had started on his cock but in the absence of Skinner's cock in his ass, all the device was doing was making his balls tighten even further. Tears of pain were rolling down his cheeks as the pump worked his dry cock, abrading the skin and causing the pressure in his balls to increase with every suction of the milking device.

He heard the crack of the laser whip and winced in sympathy with Skinner's gasp of pain.

"I'm trying damnit," Skinner roared, working his penis between his fingers desperately. He'd been achingly hard until he'd entered the dining room and had seen Mulder voluntarily haul himself onto one of the 'milking' machines that he had seen on the television broadcasts. The combination of Mulder's atypical compliance and the interested eyes of the watching aliens had proved too much for even Skinner's drug-induced arousal to compete with and his cock had immediately gone limp. 

Jax's response to Skinner's 'problem' had been to grasp him firmly around the waist and manipulate the dildo in his ass, pumping it slowly back and forth across his prostate until the blood began to flow back into his cock. Jax had then positioned him between Mulder's open thighs and had removed the butt plug so that Skinner could plunge inside.

Skinner had immediately lost his erection again.

Seeing Mulder writhing in obvious pain on the milking device, every protective instinct Skinner possessed was telling him this wasn't rape. It wasn't even sex. It was just a man he was responsible for who was suffering unspeakable agony and his own cock was the only way he could offer Mulder relief.  Yet, seeing for the first time how abnormally wide Mulder's ass had been stretched by the tail plug had finally brought it home to him just how viciously Mulder had been abused by the aliens.  Even the abnormal size of Mulder's distended balls hadn't offended him as greatly as the understanding that the poor bastard's ass was so dilated that Skinner could imagine his whole hand and arm fitting through the gaping hole.

His cock had softened in response, as though it was defeated by the knowledge that its girth and length would be barely noticed inside Mulder's abused anus, and the knife-sharp pain of a laser-whip striking his naked back to encourage him only made Skinner's cock wither more.

Between Mulder's obvious agony and the bite of the whip against his own flesh, Skinner roared in fury and desperately worked his cock with his fingers to bring it to life. He was no longer caring of his audience, no longer even perceiving this as an act of sex, just frantic to ease his and Mulder's mutual pain. 

"Fetch another beast," Krenzl roared in disgust, desperate to soothe Mulder's mewling agony before he lost control and fucked his pet himself in front of an audience. 

Skinner didn't know what the Imperator had said, but he was damned certain the angry words were his own death sentence. He was almost frantic with panic when he suddenly remembered what Mulder had 'said', "You can use things. You can use your fingers or dildos, They don't care how you fuck me."

Inspiration struck him and, giving up on his unresponsive cock, he lunged his hand forward and thrust his fingers inside Mulder's open ass.

Mulder's mewls of pain instantly transformed into groans of relief as Skinner's fingers breached his wide open pucker. He bucked his hips in encouragement, feeling knuckles scraping his passage as Skinner kept pushing his middle finger through the walls of Mulder's ass frantically searching for Mulder's prostate. He connected with the hard nub and Mulder's back arched in delight, his ass muscles relaxing enough for Skinner to start easing his whole hand inside. For a moment, Skinner froze in disbelief as Mulder's muscles dragged his hand in until he was buried to the wrist, and then he began to pump his hand back and forth as Mulder fucked the milking unit.

"Wait," Krenzl ordered, raising a hand to stop the handler who was bringing Skinner's replacement. He watched as his pet's mate twisted and pumped his arm, developing a rhythm of deep punches that finally allowed Mulder to begin pumping essence into the milking device. He began to wonder whether the stud's inability to service his pet had been simply the animal's confusion over how to satisfy a Producer who had been adapted to expect a Hrraus inside his ass rather than a mere cock.    

Skinner wasn't sure whether it was relief that the handler had stopped whipping him or that Mulder was no longer in agony, but to his surprise, he found himself hardening once more in response to Mulder's orgasms.  His cock began to weep in sympathy as Mulder ejaculated over and over into the milker, his ass muscles rippling and squeezing Skinner's hand with almost painful intensity each time he came. Feeling those clamping muscles, Skinner found himself needing to know how that sensation would feel on his cock. Mulder's ass no longer seemed like a gaping hole. It was hot, inviting, intoxicating. He was barely aware of    removing his hand and replacing it with his cock. 

As he rammed inside the welcoming passage in one furious thrust, Mulder's ass muscles immediately clamped down, grasping his cock firmly and attempting to trap it inside. Skinner bellowed, torn between an almost mindless lust as the Albrecx drug finally overcame his own inhibitions and a deeper, if  more vague, feeling of relief that he was finally managing to give Mulder some real comfort. He began to ride Mulder hard and furiously, forcing a heavy exhalation of breath out of the younger man with each plunge and a whimper of distress with each withdrawal.

He wasn't sure whether it was the drugs or the fact that he'd been celibate for so long that allowed him to keep thrusting inside the younger man through two orgasms of his own. By the time he withdrew, Mulder was no longer writhing on the milker, no longer trying to pump out his own essence and, as Skinner sank to his knees in exhaustion, Jax stepped forward and helped Mulder off the device.

"Take them away," Krenzl said, affecting boredom.

Jax nodded obediently and, taking hold of Skinner's leash, he carried the exhausted Producer from the room, dragging a stumbling Skinner in his wake. He ignored Skinner completely until they reached the privacy of Mulder's room. 

"The Imperator will handle his pet's next milking himself," Jax snapped. "I suggest you spend the next few hours recovering your strength and contemplating your future here. I don't care if you *are* Mulder's mate. If you ever let him suffer like that again before you service him, I'll put you down myself."

"What are you doing?" Skinner demanded, as Jax carried Mulder through to the bathroom and began to strip his own clothes off. He was torn between the urge to physically attack the alien who seemed intent on abusing Mulder's helpless body further and his own gut-clenching fear as he received his first vision of a naked Albrecx. He felt sick as Jax pressed the tip of one of his side tentacles against Mulder's ass and slid it inside.

"You're raping him," he accused, clenching his fists against his sides in an attempt to contain his impotent fury.

"I am not," Jax contradicted mildly. "My Hrraus is judging the level of internal damage that Mulder has suffered so that I can program the healing device correctly."

"Healing device?"

Instead of answering, Jax carried Mulder into the shower. He stayed with him until the external cleansing cycle was completed, then moved Mulder slightly to ease the entry angle of the internal cleanser.  When the device had fully activated and entered its vibration cycle, Jax stepped out of the shower leaving Mulder swaying in a trance of obvious pleasure as healing ointment was vibrated into every crevice of his anal passage.

"This device cleans and heals him," Jax replied. "He needs to use it after every milking session. He's milked every four hours. The only way he can survive that much physical trauma is by establishing a strict routine. After four of the milking sessions he spends two hours on this device, then two hours sleeping. He finds this device both comforting and pleasurable and, unless he's exhausted like he is now, he's learnt to see to his own needs without supervision. After the device has healed him, he's too tight for his tail-plug to be replaced. He needs to be dilated. If I am here, I will do it with my Hrraus. If I am not, I suggest you use the dildos rather than your cock to stretch him, since servicing him four times a day will keep you at your physical limit."

"He told me he needed to be milked six times a day," Skinner replied, so horrified by the picture of Mulder's life that was emerging from Jax's words that he could only take sanctuary in dealing with bare facts.

"He does. However, twice a day, the Imperator will handle the milking himself since the Mulder-beast has to be fed anyway. Although you won't be required to service him at those times, you will have other responsibilities to your mate. While he's digesting, he is incapable of looking after himself. The nourishment acts as a drug which leaves him too intoxicated to know what his body needs. One of your duties as his permanent companion will be to look after him at those times. Pay attention to how this device works since you'll have to operate it for him after he's been fed."

"Wake up and listen to me, Skinner-beast," Jax demanded, shaking Skinner fully awake.

Skinner groaned and rolled over onto his back to ease his cock. While he had slept, the alien drugs inside him had obviously been at work judging by the tight pressure in his balls and the fact that his cock was hard and weeping once more.

"What is it? Has something happened to Mulder? Where is he? Why haven't you brought him back?"

He felt guilty now that he'd been relieved when Mulder had slept right up to the moment Jax had collected him from their room. He hadn't had to face Mulder yet, hadn't been forced to look in the eyes of the man he'd publicly raped. And it was rape. Even if Mulder had needed him to do it. Once he'd gotten over his initial repulsion, the alien drug had taken over and he'd fucked the younger man so enthusiastically that his cock still felt sore. Putting his own feelings of self-loathing over his actions aside, the problem was that Skinner wasn't sure whether to apologize for doing it or for the fact he'd let Mulder suffer for so long on the machine *before* he'd given in and done it. 

He'd been so relieved not to have to face that conversation yet that he had ignored Jax coming to the room earlier and removing Mulder for his next 'milking'. Instead of worrying about Mulder's welfare, he had simply rolled over and gone back to sleep.  He knew his desire to sleep was just his mind's way of trying to help him deal with the trauma of what had happened to him in the last day, but his ability to completely disregard Mulder's own trauma by doing so disgusted him. No matter how much he told himself that Mulder had already learned to adapt to the aliens and that it was reasonable that he himself needed more time to adjust before reaching Mulder's level of acceptance, he knew the truth was that having *not* suffered weeks of abuse like Mulder, he had a mental advantage over the younger man. He hadn't been ground down by pain and humiliation. He *should* be the stronger one. He should be taking over, offering comfort, sharing his strength, helping Mulder cope. Instead, he was wallowing in his own self-pity.

"Your mate's life is in extreme danger," Jax replied, his expression grim.

"Why? What's he done?" Skinner demanded, torn between guilt and angry exasperation that even *now* Mulder seemed incapable of staying out of trouble.

"*He* hasn't done anything," Jax spat. "The problem is neither have you."

"What? I don't understand."

"The Imperator's wife has arrived unexpectedly from the Homeworld. She caught Krenzl feeding the Mulder-beast."

"But...but that's not taboo, is it?" Skinner asked, completely bewildered.

"Not in itself," Jax agreed. "But the fact that the Mulder-beast had obviously only just been milked and the absence of a stud-beast, makes it damned obvious that the Imperator milked him himself. Fortunately the evidence is circumstantial and although Mulder's too stoned to lie at the moment, his inability to speak means he can't be questioned. Krenzl has told the Princess Stelgar that *you* serviced Mulder then returned to your room just before she arrived. If you don't support his story, Stelgar will send Mulder to the milking dorm to protect Krenzl from his unnatural urges."

"What's the milking dorm?"

"Your worst nightmare, Skinner-beast. A living hell. Milk-beasts aren't put down there. They just wish they had been. You have to save him."

"Then of course I'll say I 'serviced' him," Skinner replied angrily, surging to his feet.

"You can't go there like this."

"Like what?"

Jax pointed at Skinner's erect cock. "It's obvious you haven't fucked anyone. You need to drain your ball-sac quickly." Jax grabbed hold of Skinner's arm and hauled him into the shower. "Kneel down over the drain-hole. We can't leave any evidence," he explained.

Skinner dropped to his knees and reached for his cock, pulling at it with his fingers.

"There's no time for that," Jax growled, pushing on Skinner's shoulders until his face was pressed against the tiles and his ass was high in the air.  

Skinner felt a warm, hard pressure against his pucker and began to squirm and fight in panic.

"Don't fight me, damn you," Jax roared. "Mulder needs your help. If you let him get sent to the dorm I'll kill you myself."

He didn't wait to see whether Skinner responded to the threat, he just brutally thrust his Hrraus deep inside the stud's ass. It was only when Skinner screamed in pain at the intrusion that Jax belatedly realized that in his panic he had completely forgotten to lubricate the stud's virgin orifice.

"I'm sorry, Skinner-beast," he apologized sincerely, tears of shame prickling his eyes at the beast's obvious agony. Yet he knew it was too late to stop. He only had a few minutes before Stelgar became suspicious at the delay in collecting Skinner. He'd heal the beast later, apologize later, if any of them survived long enough for there to even *be* a later. Jax was all too aware that if Stelgar realized he was deceiving her, he had even less chance of survival than Mulder did.

Skinner screamed as the alien tentacle rammed inside him and battered viciously against his prostate gland. The hard undulating flesh inside him sent waves of agony through his bowels and a burning sensation seared through his groin like liquid fire. The pain was so intense he almost fainted, and yet his balls drew up in response to the sensation and his screams became a howl of humiliation as his cock began to shoot cum down the drain hole. Each time the alien organ punched inside him, his cock erupted more semen and as Jax changed to a continuous rhythm of lightening fast thrusts, Skinner's cock felt like it was exploding from the inside out.  In less than two minutes, Skinner's balls were so drained that his ball-sac hung soft and slack between his thighs and the slit of his now-limp cock was a scarlet swollen and weeping wound of abused flesh.

Jax quickly withdrew his Hrraus, wiped the blood off Skinner's trembling, exhausted thighs and slipped the smallest of Mulder's butt-plugs into the swollen flesh to ensure no further fluids would escape. He didn't want Stelgar questioning why a Stud-beast had been fucked.

Then he dragged Skinner to his feet and stared into the angry, humiliated brown eyes of Mulder's mate.

"I sincerely am sorry for doing that to you," Jax stated, surprised just how bad he *did* feel about abusing the beast. "However, now you *do* look like you've just serviced your mate so there's a good chance the Princess Stelgar will believe the Imperator, or at least she can *appear* to believe him without losing face. This situation is as much political as moral, Skinner-beast."

"It feels like you've ripped me in two," Skinner growled, although he made no protest as Jax grabbed his leash and towed him towards the door.

"I *am* sorry," Jax replied, then looked at Skinner thoughtfully. "Of course, there is one advantage to this."

"Which is?"

"That now you know how it feels to have a Hrraus inside you, you can now imagine how your mate feels when the Imperator uses him. Perhaps you will find some compassion for him now that you have felt the agony yourself. Just because Mulder's body has been adapted to enjoy intense anal stimulation, don't imagine he finds it any less painful than you do."

"How can he enjoy it if it hurts him this much?" Skinner demanded. He was in so much pain that he could barely walk, but somehow discussing Mulder allowed him to distance himself a little from the burning agony inside his ass and groin.

"I didn't say *he* enjoyed it, but that his body does," Jax corrected.

"I don't understand the difference," Skinner snarled.

"When you do, perhaps you will learn to treat him more kindly," Jax replied, glaring at Skinner with open contempt.

Skinner flushed and ducked his head, unable to look at the alien. He couldn't reconcile his ambivalent feelings towards the creature. It had just raped him and yet was using the rape as a way to point out that Skinner had been less than sympathetic to Mulder.  Was this how Mulder felt? Was his own current pain and feeling of degradation what Mulder had been suffering six times a day since the alien invasion?

No. It couldn't be. Because if Mulder really felt like this every time he was raped, he would have surely taken his own life weeks ago.

Except...except Mulder said he was willing to suffer if it helped the resistance. From another man's lips the words could have just been hyperbole, a way of trying to justify weakness or cowardice, but Skinner had known Mulder for too many years to perceive him as either weak or cowardly. Over the years Skinner had known the younger man, Mulder had *never* hesitated to risk his life or health in his search for 'the truth'. Despite the disbelief and mockery of his fellow-agents, Mulder had never allowed his own physical pain to be a consideration when he was struggling to fight for his cause.

Despite the fact that the alien invasion had finally proven that Mulder had always been right about the existence of extra-terrestrial life, Skinner had still allowed himself to doubt the younger man's intrinsic honesty and capacity for self-sacrifice.

"I'm ashamed of myself," he said out loud, facing Jax for the first time since the 'rape'. "Even *you* treat Mulder with more respect than I have so far."

"Then you understand I only hurt you to save him?" Jax asked, chewing his lower lip nervously in a remarkably human expression of hope, and it suddenly struck Skinner that alien or not, in many ways Jax was no different than any human youngster who was torn between an essentially gentle nature and the necessity to perform acts he found personally abhorrent.

"I do now," Skinner replied. "And if Fox can live with this, then so can I." 

"Fox?"

"That's his real name."

"It sounds like an Albrecx name."

"It's a good name, for a good man."

"Then let us try and save that good man," Jax replied, as he led Skinner into Krenzl's bedchamber.

Since he had no understanding of the Albrecx tongue, Skinner had no idea of the conversation that his entrance interrupted except that it seemed from the tone of the alien voices that his presence quickly diffused a furious argument between the Imperator and his wife.

Even if he had been able to understand the conversation, he wasn't sure it would have sunk in because he was too stunned by the appearance of Krenzl's wife to do much except stand there with his mouth open in complete shock.

She was huge. So tall and broad that she made the Albrecx he had previously seen seem like children by comparison. Even though she was seated and Krenzl was standing, the Imperator was craning his neck to look her in the face which suggested that her dense, heavily muscled frame was over twelve-feet in height. Skinner had a vague recollection of once reading that a humanoid body was physically incapable of being that tall. Whoever had made that prediction had obviously never met a female Albrecx.

She dwarfed her husband, not only by size but by presence. Everything about her screamed authority and it was quickly apparent to Skinner that the aliens were a matriarchal society governed by Amazonian women who, judging by the mixture of contempt and affection on Stelgar's face as she spoke to her husband, saw the males of their species as clearly inferior.

The realization stunned him. To discover that the monstrous giants that so terrorized his fellow humans were themselves terrorized by the females of their own species was both shattering and oddly comical. It also gave him a better idea of why the male Albrecx were so brutally cruel to their 'cattle'.  Perhaps victimizing humans was their way of compensating for the fact that they themselves were usually the victims in their own society.   

He was equally confused to see that even before his entrance the massive Albrecx female was seated with an obviously shit-faced Mulder curled up on her vast thighs. Looking at Mulder's glazed eyes and slack features, Skinner realized that Jax hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said that Mulder was left completely stoned by whatever it was the Imperator was feeding him. He decided it was probably just as well, since he couldn't see Mulder voluntarily agreeing to lie quietly on an alien female's lap while she petted him as though he was a lap-dog.

"I thought you said he was in danger," he whispered furiously to Jax, when he realized that neither Krenzl nor his wife were no longer paying any attention to them. "She looks more likely to stroke him to death than kill him."

"She thinks he's 'cute'," Jax agreed quietly. "She's never seen such a tiny pet before and unlike most of you humans, his nose conforms to our standards of great beauty in a pet. Her appreciation of his beauty would not, however, prevent her from simply snapping his neck right now if it was politically advantageous to do so. She is a female, Skinner. Do not imagine that she shares a male Albrecx's soft nature."

"Soft nature?" Skinner demanded in disbelief.

"Indeed. The treatment you beasts have received has been tempered greatly by the fact that there have been no female Albrecx on this harvest. They have far less capacity for kindness than we have."

"What is she saying?"

"She seems convinced that you serviced Mulder-beast. It has diffused her earlier anger," Jax confirmed. "That's all you need to know for now. Be quiet. If she notices you talking, she's likely to have you put down. She won't tolerate poor behavior in a stud-beast."

"I have no objection to you keeping the pet in our chambers," Stelgar announced. "He's a pretty little thing."

She ruffled Mulder's hair affectionately, smiling at the way the beast nuzzled his face happily into her lap.  It was always fun to play with Producers when they had just been fed. She effortlessly rolled him over until he was lying on his back over her vast thighs. Although the harness kept his knees tucked over his body, she had otherwise unrestricted access to the jewelry that adorned his nipples and groin. She tweaked one of the nipple-rings, enjoying the way the beast squirmed happily in response and watching with interest as a bead of essence pearled on the tip of the beast's cock. She touched the essence with her finger tip and brought it to her lips, tasting his sweetness for herself.

"And he does have a unique taste, as you said," she agreed, favoring her husband with a smile.

Krenzl shuffled nervously under her gaze, hating the way she made him feel so small and insignificant in her presence. 

"I even understand your desire to extract his essence naturally," she added. "But it shows a surprising lack of good judgment on your part to allow your private vices to become public knowledge."

Krenzl froze.

She waved her hand in Skinner's direction.

"While I can see it's sexually exhausted so I accept that what I interrupted tonight wasn't what it initially appeared, I'm not a fool, Krenzl. Someone deliberately withheld the fact of my arrival in the hope that I would catch you in a compromising situation. Had I done so, I would have been forced to publicly declare you an unsuitable husband. That would *not* have pleased me, Krenzl.  Our arrangement is to both of our advantages. I only agreed to marry you because you promised that in return for my name and protection you would stay out of my life.  Instead I find myself in the position of having to travel half-way across the galaxy to prevent you humiliating my family name."

"I am sorry, Stelgar."

"You will be, my husband," the princess promised grimly. Then she turned her attention to Jax. "I won't have a stud-beast living in our chambers. Move it to the stud-pens immediately."

"It's Mulder's mate," Krenzl protested. "The veterinarian advised me that Mulder should only be serviced by one stud for the sake of hygiene. It's far easier under the circumstances for them to live together."

"It's also far easier for people to suspect you are taking the essence yourself when there's no record of a Stud being regularly collected from the stud-pens. Put the beast with the other studs so that people witness it being collected and returned after each of your pet's milking sessions. I don't *care* whether you actually use it to extract the essence, Krenzl, but I insist that you are more careful about creating that illusion."

"I don't understand," Krenzl whimpered.

"Your perversions are of no interest to me, husband. *You* are of no interest to me. If I wanted a husband at all, I would hardly have chosen *you* as my candidate. However, our marriage is convenient to me. You are sufficiently grateful for the privilege of bearing my name to stay away from me and our marriage allows me to pursue my own career without being constantly bombarded with suitors. It would irritate me if I was forced to divorce you."

She looked at Krenzl's distraught expression and her heart softened slightly.  Carelessly pushing Mulder off her lap, so that he crashed to the floor in mewling confusion, she patted her immense thighs and beckoned Krenzl to take Mulder's place.  The Imperator climbed onto her lap, sinking his head against her voluptuous chest. She patted his head with one of her huge hands.

"I *do* care about you, little one," she crooned, as her husband curled up gratefully in her lap.  "I suppose it's hard for you to live so far away from my protection. Sometimes I forget how fragile you are."

"I don't like it here, so far from Homeworld, " Krenzl admitted quietly.

"I agree there's no necessity for you to be this far from home," Stelgar agreed. "Now I have seen how tiny these humans are, I believe this harvest was always doomed to failure. The poor collection of essence is less to do with bad management than the fact that these 'humans' are simply not sufficiently evolved to suit our purposes. Besides, it was a mistake to plant a harvest so far from Homeworld. The cost of collection at this distance would be exorbitant even if the humans could provide a normal quantity of essence. I think we never should have planted our stock so near to Shrenztl space. Perhaps it is their interference on this planet that has slowed the process of evolution. Our records show that they had been visiting this world for several thousand years, even before they attempted to colonize it themselves."

"The population has far too high a proportion of unsuitable cattle, even allowing for the industrial pollution and the high level of natural radiation," Krenzl agreed. "We have to discard far more cattle than we can process."

"I'll contact Homeworld and advise that we abandon the harvest here," Stelgar announced. 

"You're going to let the population evolve more before returning to harvest?" Krenzl asked timidly.

"I see no point," Stelgar corrected. "There's little likelihood of our returning here and it's strategically ill-advised to leave unharvested cattle for our enemies to use. I know you're only a male, so you're probably incapable of understanding the scientific or military reasoning behind my decision but, simply put, although the cattle bear little resemblance to us, they *do* share our DNA. Our main defense against the Shrenztl is that they cannot tolerate the atmospherical conditions on Homeworld.  A Shrenztl/cattle hi-bred might prove a more formidable opponent.  I suspect that is why they wanted to take control of this world. Anyway, the cattle in this region of space don't seem to develop correctly. Perhaps the spatial conditions in this part of the galaxy are simply not favorable. The last planet you attempted to harvest in this region of space was equally unsuitable, wasn't it? My suggestion is that we sterilize all of the outer harvest zone. That will ensure the Shrenztl cannot make use of these worlds either and the resultant dead-zone will form a protective barrier between our space and that of the Shrenztl."  

"What about my pet?" Krenzl complained.

Stelgar patted him comfortingly.

"You may continue to play with him until we leave," she assured her husband. "I intend to at least ensure we collect sufficient essence before we leave to ensure this harvest was not a complete disaster. I shall take control of the planetary operations to speed up the collection. I imagine you'll have a few more weeks of fun with your pet before we return to homeworld."

"I want to keep him," Krenzl muttered rebelliously.

A look of displeasure crossed Stelgar's face.

"How can I return to homeworld and justify my decision to sterilize the planet if you have one of the beasts with you as a pet? The only way I can cover up your incompetence is by showing the cattle of this world are useless except as under-producing milk-beasts. He's a pretty little amusement, that's all. Enjoy him while you can. When we're ready to leave, he'll be consigned to the milking dorm with all the other cattle."

Too exhausted to even replace his spent cock with his hand, Skinner accepted the fat dildo that Jax offered him and finished Mulder off with ten minutes of hard ramming with the rubber cock. He'd spent the last four hours incarcerated in a hard, cold cage in the stud-pens. Unable to sleep he'd spent the time desperately feeling every inch of his body to try and locate where the resistance had implanted the communication device. His failure to do so, coupled with the discomfort of spending four hours kneeling on a cold metal floor, had drained so much energy from his body that he'd found himself unable to completely supply Mulder's needs with his cock alone.

"It is an inventive creature," Stelgar laughed as she drank Mulder's essence appreciatively from her straw. 

"It's Mulder's true mate," Krenzl replied in English. "It obviously understands that Mulder is in great pain unless he is properly milked. Hopefully it will realize that Mulder needs to eject at least another dose of essence or be extremely uncomfortable."

Skinner choked down a sob of dismay at Krenzl's obvious warning to him. Mulder was collapsed in exhaustion over the milker, his body slick with sweat, but now Krenzl had pointed it out, it was obvious to Skinner that the tremors running through Mulder's hips were an attempt to hump again against the milker.

"I don't see why it matters," his wife replied, effortlessly switching to English herself. She assumed his decision to use the alien tongue was an attempt to improve his sadly poor language skills. Like all males, Krenzl struggled to master other tongues. The general consensus on Homeworld was that males were simply not intelligent enough to learn more than basic skills. "They are cattle, Krenzl. Your pet already has produced more than enough essence to satisfy us tonight, What does it matter whether he is comfortable or not?"

"Indulge me, my wife. I like to keep my pet happy. It harms us nothing and makes it far more pleasant to share our home with him."

"He's spoilt," Stelgar sniped. "A couple of smacks of the whip will just as quickly drain him."

"A couple of slaps from his mate will do the same without the risk of damage," Krenzl replied, deliberately catching Skinner's eyes.

Skinner shook himself. Somehow Mulder had been right. Contrary to all appearances, the Imperator DID care about Mulder, even to the extent of 'teaching' Skinner how to look after him.

So Skinner turned back to Mulder and let loose a series of firm smacks against Mulder's backside.

Mulder arched and released, then collapsed barely conscious across the milking bench.

Krenzl smiled softly and drank deeply of Mulder's final offering.

"Delicious, isn't he?" he asked his wife.

"I can't argue that. His IS a unique taste," she shrugged.

Changing back to Albrecx, Krenzl muttered, "It's a shame to destroy such a unique pet, don't you think?"

"Don't start that again," Stelgar replied. "I've received confirmation from Homeworld that my decision to sterilize this planet has been approved."

Neither of them noticed the look of horror on Jax's face as he overheard their conversation, but Skinner stiffened and glared at the young Albrecx.

"What is it?" he whispered.

Jax ignored him, turning towards the Princess Stelgar and bowing low to attract her attention. She waved her hand at him languidly, giving him permission to speak.

"With your permission, might I take Mulder's mate back to his room?"

"Why?" she demanded, raising her eyebrow in astonishment. "I thought I made it clear how I feel about Stud-beasts being treated like pets."

"It is not the welfare of the Stud-beast that concerns me, your highness, except in that its performance this afternoon was obviously adversely affected by its separation from its mate. It is not normal to expect a stud-beast to service a Producer so many times a day and I fear it cannot recuperate sufficiently between milking sessions unless it is provided with a little more physical comfort than a stud-cage. Alternatively, I could requisition a second stud," Jax added slyly.

"Please, Stelgar," Krenzl pleaded. "Is it not enough that I must give my pet up when we leave this world? Do I really have to risk him catching a disease from a strange stud before that time?"

Stelgar licked her lips thoughtfully, tasting a trace of the undeniably sweet nectar of the Mulder-beast's essence.

"I suppose it isn't necessary to return it to its pen after *every* milking," she finally agreed. "It can stay with its mate twice a day. If that is insufficient, then we *will* find your pet a second stud."

Both Krenzl and Jax gave respective sighs of relief, although their reasons for wanting Skinner to spend some time alone with Mulder were vastly different. The Imperator simply wanted to ensure that he had Mulder's unique taste up until the very last possible moment but Jax, understanding now that the beasts were scheduled for termination, simply wanted them to have whatever happiness they could in the time remaining.  He had no expectation that the Princess would change her mind about sterilizing the planet and was too much of a realist to believe he could do anything to save the Mulder-beast from his fate. What he could do, however, was try to make the creatures' last weeks more bearable.

Skinner was unaware of what had been discussed, but when Jax signaled that he should pick Mulder up and carry him back to his room instead of returning immediately to the stud-pens he realized that something significant had happened.

It was only as he carried Mulder to his room, and gradually realized that the younger man was trembling in as much fear as exhaustion, that it occurred to Skinner that Mulder understood the Albrecx tongue.

"What is it?" he demanded urgently. "What's happened?"

But Mulder could only stare at him with terrified eyes, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly.

"It's okay," he soothed, mentally kicking himself for his thoughtlessness. "After I've cleaned you up and Jax leaves us alone, you can write down what they just said."

"Are you sure?"

Of course I'm sure.  She said they were planning to 'sterilize' Earth. What else could she mean except wiping out all life on the planet?

"But why?"

I don't know. Maybe the resistance has been too successful. Ronxil told me they left the last planet because the natives rebelled too much and they 'sterilized' that one before leaving too.

"So you're telling me that we either peacefully agree to be slaughtered one by one or we simply get exterminated en mass?" Skinner roared.

It's not my fault.

"Who the hell suggested it was?" Skinner shouted, slamming his fist against the mattress.

You're yelling at *me*  Mulder wrote, then flinched slightly.

Skinner read the words Mulder had written, saw the wary look in the hazel eyes and flushed with shame.

"I'm sorry, Mulder. I'm not yelling at *you*, I'm just yelling and you're the only one here to listen to me. Do you understand?" He reached out slowly and took one of Mulder's trembling hands into his own. "I know I've been a complete, insensitive bastard to you since I arrived here. I'm sorry for that. More sorry than you can imagine. I'm not surprised you're as scared of me as you are of the Albrecx but I swear it's not really *you* I'm angry with. It's *never* been you, Mulder. I neither expect nor deserve your forgiveness for the way I've been treating you, but you've got to put whatever justified resentment you have against me aside for a moment. We've only got a couple of hours before your next milking session and from what you said, there's no guarantee I'll be brought back here afterwards. So we have to find the communication device Frohike planted in me. There has to be a scar. I haven't been able to find it myself, so it must be somewhere on my back."

Mulder pulled his hand out of Skinner's. At first the older man took the action as a gesture of rejection until he realized that Mulder had simply needed his hand to write a reply.

Belly button

"What?"

Frohike's a Heinlein-freak.

Mulder smirked at Skinner's blank expression, leant forward and pressed lightly just below Skinner's navel.

"Jesus," Skinner cursed, as his navel scar opened to reveal a tiny pouch. He pressed at the surrounding skin, depressing it enough for a small black cylindrical object to pop out. "It's some form of bug. I can't see any way of activating it. It's completely smooth."

We'll have to assume it's a one-way listening device and he has some way of monitoring it. 

"So I should just talk at it and hope someone's listening?"

Try it. They'll have some way of letting you know if they've received the transmission. Tell them what's happening up here, what we suspect.

"And then?"

And then we try and survive long enough to receive a reply.

"*If* they are listening."

Mulder just shrugged helplessly in acknowledgement. 

"It's been two days," Skinner cursed, as he carefully eased Mulder off the cleansing device and helped him crawl under the shower spray that had begun to discharge a mist of sweet-smelling oil. "I was sure someone would contact me in the Stud-pens. Maybe the communicator didn't work. Maybe we were supposed to do something with it other than just talk."

Mulder just shrugged wearily, unable to respond in any other fashion. 

"Did you notice Stelgar wasn't present tonight?" Skinner said, as he smoothed the oil over Mulder's back and then began to massage it carefully into Mulder's buttocks.  He was vaguely surprised how natural it was beginning to feel to look after Mulder in this way. He supposed the fact that it was *his* cock that was brutalizing the younger man made his desire to ease Mulder's aches natural, but he was still disconcerted by how swiftly he'd gone from finding another man's body abhorrent to being sick with disappointment whenever he was returned to his cage instead of allowed to look after Mulder.

He told himself that it was simply common sense to prefer spending the time between milking sessions in the relative luxury of Mulder's quarters rather than a cage, yet that explanation didn't explain his growing compulsion to show Mulder that the gentle touch of his hands could offer as much comfort between milkings as the hard pounding of his cock did during them.

Without even thinking about it, he scooped Mulder up in his arms and carried him into the bedroom. Because he couldn't bear to watch Mulder crawl, he took every opportunity to save Mulder from that humiliation. He didn't suppose it was significantly less embarrassing for Mulder to be carried but it made *him* feel better. Maybe, he wondered, that was all any of his care for the younger man was based on. His own need to feel less of a bastard rapist of a helpless victim.

"I am so sorry, Fox," he whispered, lying Mulder on the bed and then spooning around him, throwing a comforting arm around his waist. "We'll 'talk' after you've gotten some sleep."

He was almost asleep himself before it registered that he'd used Mulder's first name and that Mulder hadn't reacted negatively to him doing so.

Skinner was dragged awake by the violent shaking of his shoulder. He snapped his eyes open and struggled to focus on the pad that was being thrust in his face.

What's happening? it demanded.

Shaking the sleepiness from his head, he looked over the pad and saw that Mulder's eyes were wide and frantic with obvious fear.

"What do you mean, Fox? Nothing's happening that I'm aware of. We've both been asleep."

Mulder snatched the pad back and scrawled two more words.

Too long.

Skinner looked down at the pad, looked up at Mulder's flushed face and over-bright eyes and abruptly became aware of the pressure in his own cock.  He was almost too frightened to look down at Mulder's groin and, when he did, he winced with sympathy. Mulder's ball-sac was grotesquely distended, the flesh so stretched that it shone.

Understanding the reason for Mulder's panic, Skinner leapt to his feet, raced to the locked door and began pounding on it desperately for help.  He had no idea how long they had been asleep, but from the state of Mulder it was obviously for more than four hours.

He banged on the door with both hands, screaming at the top of his voice for someone to come and let them out. By the time he gave up, his arms were bruised from wrist to elbow and his voice was little more than a hoarse cough. He turned back to the mattress, where Mulder was writhing and thrashing in agony, his legs kicking so violently against his harness that Skinner became afraid he'd rip the restraining cock-ring right out of his body.

He threw himself over the younger man, using his greater body weight to trap the flailing limbs before Mulder did himself permanent damage. Mulder's response was to open his legs and thrust his hips up in a desperate plea.

"I can't, Fox. You need the milking device. Just fucking you won't help and it could even hurt you more. They'll come for you," he promised. "They can't have forgotten you, Fox. Jax wouldn't deliberately let you suffer like this. Even fucking Krenzl wouldn't do this to you. You're right. Something must have happened, something that's made the Albrecx lose track of time. That's all. They'll be here soon. Just try and hold on, Fox."

He wasn't sure if Mulder could hear him. Wild-eyed with pain, the younger man seemed barely aware of who he was. The pressure in his balls was making his whole body convulse against Skinner's in desperate need and with a corresponding, though lesser, ache in his own groin, Skinner was struggling not to respond to Mulder's mewling distress by plunging inside him.

It was becoming harder to hold Mulder down, as the convulsions increased in intensity until each pain-racked shudder made Mulder's eyes roll back in his head as though he was being electrocuted.

Skinner looked desperately around the room, frantic to find some way of calming Mulder down, wondering whether knocking Mulder out would help or would simply kill Mulder faster.

He *was* dying. There was no doubt in Skinner's mind of that fact. Mulder's heart was pounding so violently that its explosion seemed imminent. He'd understood that Mulder would die if he wasn't milked, he'd *intellectually* accepted that fact. But knowing it as a hypothesis and witnessing it were two completely different things.

His eyes caught sight of the dildos but he dismissed them. If fucking Mulder was the answer, he'd already have done it. Mulder needed to be milked. He needed suction against his cock. He needed....

Fuck!

Skinner grabbed the nearest dildo, slid down Mulder's body as far as he could without allowing the younger man to resume his convulsions and took a deep breath before opening his mouth and sucking Mulder's engorged cock into his mouth.  He didn't attempt to swallow more than the head. He was completely unfamiliar with the idea of giving someone a blow-job and was terrified of gagging, so he just hollowed out his cheeks, fastened his lips tightly around Mulder's cock-head and began to suck while he simultaneously pressed the dildo against Mulder's ass and began to thrust it in and out in a punishing rhythm.

Desperately trying to breathe through his nose, ignoring the almost agonizing ache in his cheeks as he attempted to create the sensation of a vacuum pump with nothing more than his mouth, he was so surprised when Mulder's moans of pain turned into mewls of pleasure that he almost stopped sucking. Then he had to fight his instinctive nausea as the unfamiliar bitterness of another man's semen flooded his mouth.

It was working, he realized, and he sobbed with combined relief and pain as Mulder failed to soften inside his mouth.  His shoulder was beginning to burn as he kept thrusting the dildo in and out of Mulder's ass, his cheeks were so sore that it felt like his face was on fire, and yet the tears of relief that were flowing down his cheeks weren't just that Mulder would survive until the Albrecx finally remembered they were trapped here. The fact that he'd managed to keep Mulder alive without a milking device proved that Mulder *could* survive escaping the Albrecx even if his adaptations couldn't be cured. Perhaps not easily, but it *was* possible.

That was the first tiny grain of hope Skinner had been able to cling to since the alien invasion. 

All indications were that the Albrecx were intending to leave Earth.  All they had to do was somehow prevent them from sterilizing the planet when they left. Then it would be up to the survivors of the occupation to try and rebuild their lives. 

And if even Mulder could learn to survive what had been done to him, then surely the rest of the human race had more than a fair chance of surviving too.

It was another couple of hours, as far as Skinner could judge, before the door opened to admit a frantic-looking Albrecx. To Skinner's considerable surprise, it wasn't Jax who entered but the Imperator himself.

"Is he alright?" Krenzl demanded, staring Skinner in the eyes as though searching his face for the truth..

Skinner did a double take. It was the first time an alien other than Jax had spoken to him directly.

"He's very sore, and very scared." Skinner replied trying to keep his own fear and hatred from his voice.

"There was a small problem I had to attend to," Krenzl muttered. "I lost track of the time." He had no intention of admitting to a mere stud-beast that the 'small-problem' had been a totally unexpected attack by mere cattle. Somehow the cattle on the surface had obtained a Shrenztl weapon and had used it to attempt to liberate one of the compounds holding intended milk-beasts.  Unwilling to call Stelgar back from her visit to the European Mothership, Krenzl had been forced to take all his available men, including Jax, down to the surface to capture the weapon and then hide the evidence of the near-disaster. It was only when Ronxil had reminded him that it had been six hours since the Producers were milked and that they would die if they weren't attended to that Krenzl had finally remembered Mulder was two hours overdue for his own milking session.

Krenzl walked over to where Mulder was still sleeping and ran his huge hand with undisputed affection over Mulder's sweat-sodden hair, his nostrils twitching at the unmistakable scent of essence that covered Mulder's skin. Skinner had been too exhausted to drag Mulder into the shower. He'd simply waited until he was certain that Mulder would survive and that he had only fainted from exhaustion after his final orgasm, then he had curled himself protectively around the younger man and had slept too.

"He almost died," Skinner accused angrily.

"I would very much have regretted that," Krenzl admitted. 

"Why?" Skinner challenged. "You're planning on killing us all anyway, so what difference would it have made?"

The Imperator pretended to ignore his comment, although Skinner was almost positive that the alien flushed a little.

"How did you keep him alive so long?" Krenzl demanded.

Skinner froze. If he admitted the truth it could be signing his own early death warrant, yet his actions had saved Mulder, and maybe that would count for something with the Imperator.

"I sucked him while I fucked him with a dildo," he admitted, unable to stop himself flinching at the anger that infused the alien's features at his confession.

"You drank the essence?"

"I saved his life," Skinner hissed back.

Skinner saw his life hanging in the balance as relief and fury warred on the alien's face.

"I will have a milking device installed in this room to prevent future problems," Krenzl stated finally. "It is probable, over the next few weeks, that I will be too busy to enjoy him anyway. Except for the morning and evening milkings, when my pet needs the nourishment I give him, you will service him here. Be warned though, I will overlook your transgression today, but if you ever touch your lips to the essence again, beast, you will die."

"You're going to kill us both anyway," Skinner replied bluntly. He didn't know what he was hoping to achieve by pushing Krenzl in this way, but it seemed to him that the only chance he had of saving Mulder's life was by making Krenzl feel guilt and regret over agreeing to kill him.

For a moment, the look of intense sorrow in Krenzl's eyes as he gazed at Mulder gave Skinner a feeling of hope. Then the alien dashed it with his next words.

"I am," he agreed. "The only question is whether Mulder spends the remainder of his life with you as his stud, or whether he has to adjust to a new one. Don't try me, beast. The only reason I am prepared to tolerate you is to keep him happy, but ultimately he's just a pet, one I'm already resigned to losing. Remember that before you try my patience again."

Go to Part Twelve