DARK SUNSET by Mort

Book One: Part Four


"How could this have happened in only four days?" Skinner asked, as he looked around the street in disbelief.

"A combination of terror and the complete lack of any authority figures," Farrand replied grimly. "Here, this should fit you."

Skinner took the overcoat, shook it to remove any remaining fragments of broken glass and then pulled it on with a shiver of gratitude. After days of being chilled and naked, the clothing felt as comforting as an embrace.

"We need to find shoes next," he told Farrand, stepping gingerly through the smashed shop window.

"The looters seem to have gotten the best stuff," Farrand told him, "but there's still a shelf of trainers."

"That'll do," Skinner replied. "As long as they protect my feet until I can get home."

"Assuming you still have a home," Farrand replied. "From what I can see, the skyline is pretty decimated in that direction too."

Skinner cursed his blurred vision. He needed to find some glasses next. And a weapon. Definitely a weapon.

The alien transporter beam had deposited them on the lawn of the White House. Had there been any law and order left they would probably have been arrested for their nakedness alone. However, since there wasn't even a White House any more, the whole place was deserted and no one witnessed the arrival home of the confused group of men who had expected to be executed and instead had been freed.

After milling around in disbelief for a short while, stunned speechless both by their own reprieve and the scene of destruction that had greeted their return, they had finally split up in different directions. Most of the men had been desperate to find their families among the smoldering ruin that was all that remained of Washington DC. 

Farrand was the only one who had gone with Skinner. He said it was because he didn't have a family to be concerned about, but Skinner had a feeling that the real truth was that Farrand knew Skinner was vulnerable without his glasses.

A week earlier, Skinner would have called the man on the issue. The post-invasion Skinner was past the need for false pride, so he had just grunted his thanks and started walking. 

As they had walked further from where the White House had once stood, the total destruction of the neighboring buildings gradually began to give way to a less complete annihilation. Here and there, a building still stood amidst the rubble of its neighbors, and eventually they had reached a street where a whole block of shops were still standing.

The shops had obviously already been looted but they had still managed to find the coats and now the trainers. It was a relief to be clothed again, even so shoddily. It wasn't just warmth that the coats provided, wearing them was somehow the difference  between being an animal and being a human being.

"Where the hell is everyone?" Farrand snarled, as they continued to move down the street, now desperately looking for anything edible to fill their starving stomachs.

"From the way the White House was flattened, I think the Albrecx used some form of incineration ray. It would have completely disintegrated people as well as buildings," Skinner replied. "The heat wave probably radiated out for several miles. That's why there's no bodies. People either died or escaped. There wasn't any in-between."

"And the survivors ran," Farrand concluded.

Skinner nodded. "I imagine the Albrecx only targeted the main cities. The destruction of the centers of Government were probably enough to cause complete panic and a social breakdown everywhere else. They've probably cut off the power supply and the communications. Of course, until we get out of Washington and find some survivors we can only speculate."

"Then I guess we'd better haul ass, Skinner," Farrand replied.

Skinner smiled. He'd been right about Farrand. He *was* a good man to have at his back.

~~~

Mulder was sure that his balls were going to explode. 

There was no way they could expand any further without the skin of his scrotum ripping and peeling back to reveal his swollen testicles. His flesh was so tight that it shone, so hot that he burned where his ballsac rested on his thighs. 

He whimpered helplessly, shifting his weight constantly from knee to knee to try and ease the pressure where his hard thigh muscles pressed against his sore groin. He was sure if he could just rub himself he'd feel better but his arms had been bound behind his back with soft cuffs to prevent him from rubbing at his aching groin. 

The Albrecx who had been assigned as his 'handler' had explained the bondage was simply to stop him damaging himself because his constant rubbing was inflaming his balls more. Mulder knew it was true. It was like scratching an itch. The more he rubbed himself the more his swollen flesh felt irritated and that just made him want to rub more. 

He knew that the cuffs were meant to protect him from harming himself but at that particular moment it just seemed like yet another deliberate torture that the Albrecx were inflicting upon him.

Mulder had belonged to the Imperator for a whole week now. 

He had spent the first four days of that ownership in the veterinary clinic, alternating between drugged sleep and periods of agonized consciousness. It seemed the Vet was uncertain of the safety of keeping human cattle unconscious for too long and had decided to err on the side of caution where Mulder was concerned.

So, at least twice on the first couple of days, Mulder had found himself wide awake, listening to the screams of the men on the other beds and wishing he could also give voice to his pain. He had become convinced that the fire in his groin would never be quenched unless he could release it in an agonized howl.

Yet, despite his envy of the other men's ability to scream their anguish rather than make pathetic quiet whimpers, and despite the unavoidable pain in his balls and ass, it had  been immediately obvious that there was a vast difference between the way the Vet treated him and the Vet's treatment of the other 'Producers'.

Mulder was the only person who had been told exactly what was being done to him and why. Although the Vet's words had seemed like mental torture at the time, Mulder could tell from the way the other victims were begging for mercy and demanding to know what they had done wrong to be so abused, that it was far worse not to know WHY someone was sticking needles in your balls.

He was also the only one who had been regularly and slowly dilated, and although it had seemed a gross indignity at the time, his first encounter with a Stud had quickly changed his mind. 

Mulder's first 'milking' session had taken place in the veterinary center. He hadn't even been released from his bed for the procedure. Firstly a rubber tube had been fitted over his cock. Then his legs had been released from their restraints, opened, pushed back until his knees were to his chest and then refastened, leaving him exposed, vulnerable and helpless.

The Vet had pressed a lever that had made the bottom half of the bed fold down so that Mulder's ass had been left dangling over the new edge. Only then had the dilator been removed from his anal passage and the Vet had filled his now gaping pucker with a thick gel.

Mulder had seen the other Producers watching him from their own beds, expressions of horror, terror and resignation on their faces. They all understood that what was about to happen to Mulder was going to happen to all of them, several times a day, for the rest of their lives.

Here and there, Mulder could hear men sobbing in empathetic fear as the doors opened and a Stud was brought in. For all his bulk, he seemed as terrified of his new role as the Producers were.

The Stud was middle-aged with a toned body and a cock that was rearing proudly to his navel, despite the way his body was shaking. Yet, as he was led between Mulder's open legs, he turned pale and  began to lose his erection.

Mulder could see the horror in the man's eyes and if he could have spoken he would have told him it was okay. Mulder knew the Stud was as much a victim as he was and, to be perfectly honest, the Stud's cock wasn't half as thick as the dilator that had just been removed. Mulder couldn't imagine the guy hurting him anymore than he already ached.

The Stud's handler pulled him away from the bed and pushed him down on to his hands and knees. Then he pulled a whip from his belt and began to thrash the Stud's buttocks until he was screaming for mercy and promising to try harder. The handler released him and stepped back.

Red faced with pain and humiliation, tears and snot running down his face, the Stud approached Mulder again, desperately rubbing himself to hardness.

There was nothing soft and apologetic in his eyes this time, just relief that his cock was responding to his masturbation. He positioned himself at Mulder's ass and rammed home with a single, desperate thrust.

Mulder almost arched off the bed with the sensation. He couldn't believe that it hurt so much. It was only as the Stud developed a rocking, grunting rhythm which battered Mulder's insides, that Mulder understood that there was a vast difference between a stationary dilator and something that was thrusting in and out of his ass.

The pain was brutal and intense. Mulder was writhing in his restraints, desperate to escape the relentless pounding , while the pressure in his balls was just increasing with each thrust. Then the Stud changed position slightly, as his handler raised the whip in warning that his performance was proving unsatisfactory. The Stud began to corkscrew his hips slightly with each entry, his cock searching for the sensitive nub of Mulder's prostate.

The Stud had been warned that he needed to make the Producer orgasm, but he'd never fucked a man before and couldn't visualize where Mulder's prostate actually was. He ground his hips and thrust harder, deciding that force would compensate for his lack of technique. 

It took several more wildly aimed thrusts before the Stud finally struck lucky. He punched his cock into Mulder's ass and Mulder felt something flare inside him. The sensation was so sharp and unexpected that his body initially misinterpreted it as yet another pain. Mulder's mouth gaped as he tried to scream in torment, but then  his whole body  jerked and arched as the Stud struck his prostate another sharp blow. The flare of sensation flooded Mulder's senses and his cock jumped to life.

As soon as Mulder stiffened, the tube formed a vacuum around his cock and began to suction. Mulder began to buck wildly on the bed, only the restraints holding him in place as a feeling of unbelievable pleasure shot back through his nerve endings like liquid fire.

Within seconds he arched in orgasm, his cock shooting into the tube while the Stud continued battering at Mulder's prostate. That first ejaculation literally lasted almost ten minutes, as streams of cum poured from his swollen balls in a steady flow into the siphoning tube and, for the first time in days, the pain in Mulder's scrotum began to fade to a bearable level.

Mulder was mewling and sobbing in relief by the time the Stud finally shot his own cum deep inside Mulder's ass. Lying there, after the Stud had been taken away, feeling another man's cum dripping out of his ass and remembering the way he had sobbed with happiness at the relief that had accompanied the Stud's rape, Mulder had never been closer to wishing he were dead.

He was so lost in self pity that he barely even registered being douched, dried and returned to a prone position in his bed.

But the next day was even worse. He was raped by someone he knew.

As though the act of orgasm had triggered his adaptations to a new flurry of activity, by the next morning the pressure in Mulder's balls had not only returned but had increased. Unable to vocalize his agony in any other way, he mewled constantly,  an endless whimpering from deep in within his throat, and he didn't even attempt to try and prevent the tears of pain that flowed in a steady stream down his face.

The Vet came over to him several times during the morning, each time grasping Mulder's swollen scrotum in his hands. He seemed indifferent to Mulder's wordless moans and agonized writhing. He was brutally impersonal as he pressed his huge fingers against the bruised flesh, squeezing and massaging the abused organ as he made his silent judgment on the growth of the testicles inside. 

The Vet was pleased to see that although the beast squirmed and sobbed each time he was manhandled, Mulder's cock was beginning to stiffen of its own volition every time his balls were touched, and its head was glistening with tiny beads of essence. Although the essence was too precious to allow uncontrolled ejaculation, the cock of a fully adapted beast often dripped constantly and since the Vet believed that the best sign of health in a producer was if their cock-head was permanently moist, he was gratified that the Imperator's own pet was making such a wonderful adaptation.

Mulder was a potentially sensuous beast, he decided, despite the obvious rebellious hatred that flashed in his eyes whenever the Vet took the time to look at the beast's face. He called one of his assistants over.

"Play with the little beast, Jax," he instructed. "Concentrate on his nipples and his anus. Help to distract him from the pressure in his groin."

The younger Albrecx grinned with pleasure. He loved working in the Veterinary Center, helping to turn wild beasts into tame, pleasing pets. He'd spent most of the tour working in the milking dormitories and although he understood that the beasts were just cattle, he secretly hated the fact that they were constantly in agony. Even though the milk beasts were invariably insane, he still felt uncomfortable around them.

He'd constantly panicked whenever any of the animals showed more than expected distress, calling the veterinary center and demanding that someone visited to check his charges were alright. Eventually, the vet decided that Jax was just too sensitive to work with the milkbeasts and had offered him a position within the center, where his unnatural fondness for animals would be an asset rather than a hindrance.

Jax loved helping with adaptations. There was something almost spiritually satisfying to taking a raw animal and helping it learn the pleasure of being a producer.  He looked down at Mulder with a combination of affection and pride. He knew the creature was too primitive to understand that the procedure was being done for his own good. Jax had no doubts about the teachings he had learned as a child. Cattle had been created by the great spirit for the express purpose of providing essence for the Albrecx, and a beast that wouldn't offer its essence willingly was not only useless, but was obviously unhealthy. Jax didn't have a problem with cattle being put down. It seemed to him that it was a kindness to put an unhealthy beast out of its misery. Only, the problem with the harvester ships was that the beasts *weren't* put down as they were on homeworld, they were put in the dormitory.

Seeing the spirited defiance in the face of this particular pretty beast, Jax felt a thrill of excitement. He wasn't accustomed to handling truly wild beasts. In his experience the potential trouble-makers were automatically relegated to the dorm. So, Jax saw Mulder as an unprecedented challenge. It was unlikely that he'd ever get the chance to handle a beast as wild as this one again. The creature was already fortunate that the Imperator had taken a personal interest in him, otherwise he would have undoubtedly been turned into a milkbeast already. 

Knowing that the beast was the Imperator's own pet, Jax knew that his chances of being appointed as Mulder's permanent handler were slim. The Imperator probably had an entire entourage of experts ready to take the little beast in hand. Still, Jax decided to make the most of his temporary opportunity. If the creature responded to him, there *was* a chance that the Imperator would decide to let the relationship flourish.

"It's all right, little one," he purred softly, smiling gently at the frightened beast. "I know you think the pain is unbearable, but I'm going to teach you that there's pleasure in the pain. Your body is coming alive now. You're feeling sensations so intense that they frighten you, but that's just because you don't understand that all that's happening here is that we are teaching your body to fulfill the purpose of its design."

While he talked, he was stroking Mulder's chest. At first his fingers were soothing and gentle but, as he continued, he began to concentrate on Mulder's nipples, rubbing his large thumbs over the nubs until they began to harden, then gradually increasing the pressure until he was almost flicking the flesh with each stroke.

Fresh tears of humiliation pooled in Mulder's eyes as the Albrecx began to gently squeeze and massage his nipples to arousal. He gasped as Jax's teasing fingers sent jolts of pleasure throughout his chest then tightened almost cruelly, turning the momentary pleasure into a shocking pain as his nipples were twisted and pinched. Yet the Albrecx's gentle smile never wavered, as Mulder began to writhe and whimper in discomfort.

"See," the Albrecx whispered, "you've forgotten your other pain already, haven't you?" 

 Mulder's eyes flared wide in astonishment. The Albrecx was right. Although the brutal squeezing of his nipples was painful enough to bring tears to his eyes, it had completely distracted him from the constant, agonizing throb in his balls.

"Except for a short time after each milking session, you'll always have that pressure," Jax told him. "Your body will always be straining towards the next extraction, desperately reproducing essence to replace what was lost in the last milking, then aching to be emptied again. You can't escape the pain, but you can learn to accept it. It will become such a constant part of yourself that you'll forget that there was ever a time without that throbbing pain. Now the problem you'll face is that you can't relieve the pressure yourself. Because you're a wild beast, and have never been trained properly, your animal instinct will be to paw at the site of the pain.  What you need to learn is that touching your own groin will only intensify the discomfort."

Mulder glared at the Albrecx in disbelief. All the time that Jax was talking, his fingers were continuing to brutally twist Mulder's nipples so that the sharp pain was turning into a raging fire that burned across his chest, yet the alien was smiling benignly as though he was trying to do Mulder a favor.

please stop,  Mulder begged silently, tears pouring freely down his face please stop hurting me

As though he had heard the silent plea, Jax released Mulder's nipples. For a moment, the cessation of the burning sensation sent a wave of relief through Mulder's whole body and he shivered as for a brief second he felt pain-free for the first time in days. Then, too soon, the agonizing throb in his groin returned. Mulder's back arched against the restraints and his mouth opened in a silent scream as the pain returned in a sickening wave.  He gagged as bile rose in his throat, and only Jax's swift tipping of the bed on its side prevented Mulder choking on his own vomit.

"I'm sorry, little beast," Jax murmured, when Mulder finally finished heaving. He pressed the mechanism that returned the bed to its normal position, checked that the restraints hadn't been loosened and then wiped Mulder's face with a wet cloth. "I know that was a shock, and it hurt, but at least you understand now that there are degrees of pain. You thought I was hurting you, but that burning feeling was nothing next to the real pain that it was masking, was it?"

Mulder just gazed at him hopelessly, with wide confused eyes.

"Now, I admit that I was deliberately a little harsh with you, just to teach you that important lesson. So now we have to find the level of pain that gives you the most pleasure."

Jax resumed his exploration of Mulder's now bruised nipples, He alternated teasing strokes with unexpected pinches, until Mulder was gasping for breath, his face flushed, and although the beast's eyes were wet with tears, Jax could also see that they had darkened with arousal. 

"See how much I'm learning about you, little beast? You love to be touched, don't you?  You're enjoying my petting. You prefer me to be a little rough," he said, flicking a fingernail against one of Mulder's swollen nubs and grinning as the beast writhed in reaction, "But I don't think you like real pain," he added, twisting the other nipple savagely and observing the way Mulder stiffened and froze.  He nodded thoughtfully. "That's okay, little beast. I've heart that when the Imperator plays with his pets, he rarely gets carried away. I think you'll do fine with him. You respond well enough to a medium level of stimulation to be interesting, and beasts who enjoy too much pain have a tendency to damage themselves. I think he'll be pleased with you."

He laughed at the look of fury on Mulder's face.

"You can't imagine *wanting* to please him yet, can you? Never mind, it will come. Now let's play somewhere else and see what other interesting things I can learn about you."

Mulder moaned in horror as the Albrecx moved down the bed and adjusted it until Mulder was back in the same helpless position he had been put in to accept the stud. What horrified him most, however, was a sick excitement that surged through him as he began to believe that the pressure in his balls would be eased. As the thick dilator was dragged out of his anus, Mulder felt his cock harden in anticipation and wanted to die of shame. He was in so much pain that all he wanted was for it to stop and as much as the thought horrified him, he *knew* the only thing that would take the pain away was the feel of someone's cock violating his ass.

Jax examined Mulder's passage thoughtfully and called the Vet over.

"He's a little inflamed, Sir," he pointed out humbly.

The Vet pulled on a glove and poked a couple of fingers into Mulder to check. "He is," he agreed irritably, although he was pleased to witness the beast's hips jerking in excited reaction to his probing.

"He's got a small infection," he said. "He finally looks desperate to be milked, though, so there's no point applying any ointment. Leave it for now and just make sure you give him a thorough clean afterwards."

The Vet loosened the restraints around the beast's hips so there could be no doubt in the minds of the other cattle when the producer participated in the milking this time. He ignored the tears of frustrated shame pouring down the beast's face at his body's betrayal.  No matter how much they fought the process mentally, the adaptations meant that the cattle's bodies quickly learned that the only way to relieve the pain was to accept the studs. 

Mulder could feel himself actually wriggling his ass in anticipation as the Vet ordered someone to fetch him a new stud. All around him, he knew the other 'producers' were probably watching in fascinated horror at the fact that he had turned overnight from a rape victim into some kind of slut who was practically bouncing his ass on the bed at the thought of being fucked.

He refused to open his eyes even when he felt his already weeping cock enveloped by the milking tube. He told himself that if he didn't *look* at the stud, if he didn't *see* what was happening to him, it would somehow be more bearable. But when the new stud announced his arrival by simply ramming home inside his loosened ass, Mulder's eyes flew open in shock. Unlike the previous Stud, this man obviously had no hesitation about fucking him. 

He looked in disbelief straight into the face of Jonathan Hearn, one of the FBI's civilian computer specialists. Mulder barely knew him, but there had always been something about the man that had given him the creeps. Now, seeing Hearn's obvious enthusiasm for raping a helpless victim, he realized his instincts had been correct. 

Hearn grinned at him as he thrust inside Mulder's ass with brutal satisfaction.

"I've always wanted to do this to you," he whispered. "I used to watch you and dream about your tight ass. 'Course, it's not as tight anymore, but what the hell! There I was, thinking I'd stumbled into a nightmare, but what do you know? All I have to do here is have fun."

Mulder could only glare at him to try and show his disgust and hatred.

Hearn withdrew his cock, just long enough for Mulder to start writhing in desperation, then plunged back inside before his guard noticed what he'd done.

"See?" he hissed. "It's not rape if you want it and shit, Mulder, you're *loving* this, aren't you?"

Mulder's face darkened in a combination of fury and embarrassment. As much as he wished he could scream abuse at the sick bastard who was not only raping him, but was enjoying it, he was equally terrified that Hearn would pull out of him again. His cock had already stiffened inside the rubber sheath and the first dragging bite of the vacuum had begun to suction him. The pressure in his balls was so great that he was sure they'd explode if Hearn stopped fucking him now.

Against his own will, he felt his buttocks beginning to clench Hearn's cock greedily in a desperate attempt to encourage him.

"Slut," Hearn smirked. "That's what you are, Mulder. Just a hot little slut."

He laughed at the outraged shame that filled Mulder's face and increased the depth and pace of his thrusts until Mulder's eyes went unfocused and a silent scream announced the start of his orgasm. Then Hearn became grateful for Mulder's stretched ass, because despite the delicious sensation of rippling muscles against his cock, Mulder couldn't clench tight enough to force him to come. He kept pounding away, sliding in and out of Mulder's delicious heat as the vacuum pipe continued to suction Mulder's cock. Hearn managed to enjoy almost twenty minutes of sheer bliss before the sensations overwhelmed him and he came explosively inside Mulder's ass.  Mulder had long since finished his own orgasm. His balls were shrunken back to almost normal size and he was just lying there in shock that Hearn had been allowed to keep fucking him.

"That's a useful beast," the Vet told Jax. "It will be interesting to see whether he can perform that well regularly."  He reached out and fondled Mulder's drained scrotum thoughtfully.  "We'll leave him a whole day, then bring that beast back and see whether the producer can outlast him next time."

Those twenty-four hours were agony for Mulder. At first all he could feel was the burning pain of his bruised, abraded ass. The dilator had ensured that Hearn's brutal assault hadn't torn him, but his prostate was throbbing in merciless protest at the way it had been hammered by Hearn's cock and his already inflamed passage felt as though it had been sandpapered.

Then, just as the pain was dulling, Jax gave Mulder his first experience of a thorough enema. 

His sore ass was sealed with a fat hollow dildo shaped plug through which a tube passed a steady stream of warm water into his bowels. Then, when he was so full that he felt as though his abdomen would explode from the pressure, the tube was clamped and he was left there to writhe as his guts spasmed to try and void the water. He was only left for a few minutes, but by the time the plug was released, he was drenched in perspiration and whimpering in agony again.

"It's important that cattle keep themselves spotlessly clean," Jax told him. "The best way to prevent infection is for you to be thoroughly douched after each milking session.  By the time your adaptation is complete, your happiness will revolve constantly around the sensations in your anus. You'll spend most of your time between milking sessions trying to replicate the pleasure of that experience and the only way you can do that is by impaling yourself on the enema plug in your bathroom. You will find the minor discomfort of the cleaning to be more than compensated for by the relief you will feel at being plugged."

Jax laughed at the look of angry disbelief on Mulder's face.

"I don't think you'll be so skeptical tomorrow, when the Vet releases you from your restraints in the presence of your stud and you realize that the only way you can be milked is if you  offer yourself to him willingly. Because you'll do it, little beast, and you'll finally understand that your body has already changed into a Producer's. Ultimately, it doesn't matter what you *feel* about the fact. Your body's in control of you now. "

The next morning although Mulder could hardly believe that the pain in his balls could even get worse, it did. The Vet had told him that he was being adapted to need four milking sessions every day, but it had seemed just another vague horror in the catalogue of nightmares that he was struggling to cope with, so he hadn't seriously thought about it past the pain and indignity of the idea that he'd be raped four times every day.

The new intensity of the pain in his groin, though, brought home to him the absolute impossibility of resisting the aliens. It had been just one day since Hearn's brutal rape had eased the pressure in his balls, but he was writhing in agony once more, almost praying that he'd be given relief. The only thing that kept him from nodding, every time the vet walked over and asked him whether he was ready yet, was the fact that there was no way in hell he was going to willingly consent to being raped.

Except that wasn't strictly true. At this point he'd quite happily suffer the sensation of being raped, strapped as he was on his bed. That way, no matter whether his ass was bouncing up and down in excitement, he could tell himself that he'd been helpless to resist. The problem was that the vet was no longer prepared to allow him that delusion and Mulder knew *exactly* what the vet expected him to do, because he'd spent the morning watching other producers agree to the procedure.

Although his adaptation had been started first, the vet was pushing the others along at a more rapid pace. Unlike Mulder's dubious honor of being the Imperator's own pet, many of the others were being prepared for use by Albrecx who were too impatient to wait. And, although Mulder couldn't imagine anything hurting more than his own adaptation, he had heard enough screams in the room to know that some of the adaptations were being done with such cruel speed that the victims seemed to have literally gone mad with the pain.

It didn't seem that madness was considered a problem in producers though, since the Vet didn't find any of the symptoms alarming.

But that morning, Mulder had learned about milking benches. They were low fixed v-shaped stools, the base of which was just wide enough to support a producer's body from sternum to groin as he knelt over the top. The near end of the bench was cut out to allow the Producer's oversized balls to hang unencumbered, it had an inbuilt milking device, and broad wings at the back. The only way for a Producer to insert his cock in the device was if he scrambled onto the bench, opened his legs as far as he could and hooked his knees around the protruding wings.

The producer was then positioned with his hands on the floor, his head dangling down preventing any vision of what was happening behind him, his open legs suspended at the height of a stud's groin and his ass completely open and exposed. 

Mulder had watched in horror as one victim after another crawled onto the bench when the agony of resistance became too much to bear. He understood that the milking bench was as much a psychological weapon as a tool for the extraction of their 'essence'. Having given in and publicly climbed onto the contraption for the sole purpose of being raped, it would be impossible for a man to ever truly regain his lost pride. 

No matter how much pain he was in, Mulder wasn't going to do it. Climbing onto the bench would somehow be an acknowledgement that he had really become no more than the hormone-driven beast that the Albrecx believed him to be.

Only, the pressure in his balls was increasing. He was grunting and groaning in desperation, writhing on the bed as he struggled against his restraints. He was sure that if he could just touch himself, if he could just rub his fingers against his swollen flesh, it would somehow ease the pain.

The Vet approached him again.

"Are you ready, beast?" he asked.

Mulder shook his head furiously, closing his eyes to try and stop the tears that had been flowing for so long that his eyes were almost as red and swollen as his cock.

The Vet sighed and called Jax over.

"Stubborn little animal," he snapped. "It's getting dangerous now. He *has* to be milked. See what you can do to convince him."

"Can't we just wait another day or so? Let him be serviced on the bed today. Eventually he *has* to give in, so why not let him adjust by himself?" Jax asked.

"I don't believe in pandering to spoilt animals. Besides, I can't," the Vet admitted. "The Imperator is throwing a dinner party tonight, and wants to display his new pet. The beast *can't* leave here until its learned to use a milking bench, so we've got to force the issue now."

The young Albrecx gave a sad sigh. He agreed that the Mulder-beast needed to learn obedience, but it seemed a shame to crush his spirit. Jax believed that all animals responded better to patience than to brute force, but he shrugged helplessly and turned to do as he'd been told. He didn't want the Vet to do it, anyway, because as much as he respected the older man, he was slightly shocked by the Vet's complete indifference to a beast's mental heath. It seemed to Jax that it was irrelevant how glossy and toned a beast looked on the outside if its mind was damaged. Jax's family lived in a remote province, far from the main capital and had from necessity bred and trained their own providers for generations. They had always treated their beasts as valued pets. His father had spoiled his own personal provider almost as much as he'd spoilt his children. As he'd pointed out to Jax, if it was necessary to keep one of the little beasts in your house, you might as well ensure that it was a *happy* beast. That way the whole household was a more pleasant place.

Harvesting wild beasts was different. Jax understood they couldn't be treated the same way as animals who had been raised and trained properly, but he didn't see why they had to be treated badly. It wasn't *their* fault that they were wild.

So he was gentle as he strapped Mulder's legs up and apart, then withdrew the dilator. He was pleased to see that the inflammation of the beast's passage had eased, despite the Vet allowing the Stud to continue for so long after the milking had finished. He pressed a long finger inside the beast, found his prostate and started to stroke it.

Mulder nearly leapt out of his skin in reaction. His whole body spasmed and his balls tightened so much that a silent scream was ripped out of his throat. It had been hard enough to deal with the throbbing pressure of his own groin, but the finger swirling over his prostate was driving him mad as sensations rippled through his body in fierce waves and his cock hardened so much that it slapped his stomach and began to dribble pre-cum.

Jax added a second finger and then a third, and then changed his stroking to light punches of his fingertips against Mulder's prostate.

"It's not going to stop," he warned Mulder sadly. "I'm going to keep doing this to you until you're so desperate for relief that you'll do *anything*. So why not just give up now? Why suffer like this? What are you trying to prove, little beast?"

That I'm still human Mulder sobbed inside his head. 

Yet, just ten minutes later, when the Vet returned to check on Jax's progress by asking Mulder whether he had reconsidered, Mulder found himself nodding his head frantically.

Already stunned by his own weakness in giving in, Mulder was further horrified to realize that when the restraints were removed and he was allowed off the bed, he couldn't walk. It was impossible to take a step without his thigh slapping his swollen scrotum. He tried to shuffle and inch his way forward, but no matter how slowly he tried to move, the pain was so intense that the only thought that stopped him fainting was the terror of falling and crushing his agonized balls against the floor.

Now he understood why all the other providers had crawled. It was the only way to let his cock and balls hang unimpeded as he moved.

He tried not to think about what he was doing. Tried to ignore the knowledge that other men were witnessing his humiliation. He tried to concentrate on nothing more than the fact that the unbearable pain in his groin would shortly be gone. He reached as far as the bench and then groaned. He swayed on his knees, tears streaming down his face, as he realized he simply couldn't climb on. It wasn't defiance any more, it was the fact that he simply couldn't maneuver his agonized body onto the bench without his scrotum possibly touching something. He hugged his chest and keened in misery.

Then he felt a pair of strong arms lift him up into the air.

"What are you doing?" the Vet demanded angrily.

"He's shown his obedience. It's not his fault he's in too much pain to climb on," Jax snapped back, easily raising Mulder's body and sliding him into position on the bench.

"Of course it's his fault. This will teach him not to wait so long next time," the Vet replied. 

"I'm sure he's learnt the lesson sufficiently," a new voice boomed out.

From his position on the bench, Mulder couldn't see the new arrival, but he soon gathered that it was the Imperator himself.

"I don't want my pet harmed, Ronxil. I specifically told you to be careful with him."

"He hasn't been, your majesty," the Vet assured him hurriedly. "Jax is simply being over-protective of him. He's young and he's taken his role as your pet's handler a little too seriously." 

"Good," the Imperator replied, smiling approvingly at the blushing Jax. "I want you to bring him to me later," he told the youngster. "It will be easier for the beast if he doesn't have to face a change of handler at this stage."

"Of course, your highness," Jax squeaked excitedly.

"I'll advise the Captain that you've been temporarily re-posted to my guard," Krenzl stated. "if you prove capable of controlling my wild little pet, the position might become permanent."

Jax stared dreamily as the Imperator left the room.

"Don't bother packing much," the Vet snapped at him. "Considering how stubborn the beast is, you'll be back here before you know you've gone."

Jax refused to let the Vet's words worry him. He pointed at the milking bench.

"Speaking of the beast, don't you think we ought to send for the stud?" he suggested.

The Vet looked over at Mulder in annoyance, weighed the chances of the Imperator returning and smirked coldly.

"It's lunchtime," he stated firmly. "We'll go eat first." 

"But..but what about the beast, Sir?"

"He's waited this long, another hour won't kill him."

"No, it's not right," Jax protested. "He's supposed to learn that the milking bench is something he shouldn't be frightened of. He's supposed to be rewarded for climbing on it."

The Vet glared at Jax, saw the stubborn set of the younger man's jaw and decided it was a bad idea to antagonize him. If Jax managed to use his new role to inveigle himself into the Imperator's favor, he could be a useful future ally *or* a possibly dangerous enemy.

"You're so gullible, Jax," he laughed. "It was just a joke.  

Jax wasn't entirely convinced, but was too relieved that Ronxil had backed down to make an issue of it.  He would have protested the Vet's decision to leave *any* producer on the bench, but now the Mulder-beast was his own charge, he was determined that nothing would stand in the way of the beast becoming the best pet the Imperator would ever have.

He knew the beast needed discipline and training, but he couldn't see any reason why he couldn't apply his own methods to the teaching.

A good pet was a happy pet, in Jax's opinion, and Mulder's prompt response to Jax's teasing of his prostate suggested that no matter how much the creature wanted to defy the Albrecx, he would be more easily defeated by his own sensual nature than by punishments.

Go to Part Five