TITLE:     CACHOT DÉSIRER 
AUTHOR:    DONNILEE and XRAE 
E-MAIL:    donnilee@snet.net and XRae1013@webtv.net 
CATEGORY:  MSR - CASEFILE
KEYWORDS:  BDSM, SCULLY DOM, UST, RST 
RATING:    EXTREME NC-17 
SPOILERS:  Fight the Future, Millennium, Triangle, 
Irresistible, Emily, and Pusher.
SUMMARY:   Mulder and Scully go undercover in a 
bizarre murder case at the request of their old 
friend, Senator Matheson, and nothing is as it seems.

WARNING:   Here there be monsters!  No, actually, 
there aren't, but there is BDSM and D/s themes, along 
with FemDom themes and male penetration.  If this is 
not your cup of tea, go elsewhere.  If it is, read on 
and enjoy.  You have been warned.

DISCLAIMER: We're blaming our perverted muses and 
that's all there is to it!  I don't want to hear any 
more about it!  Oh, you mean the show? The 
Characters?  All characters and references to 
the X-Files belong to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen 
Productions and Fox Broadcasting.

DONNILEE'S DEDICATION: I'd like to dedicate this fic 
to my co-author, XRae, who was only the second person 
who took me up on my offer to write together.  She 
literally inspired me with her off the cuff rants and 
ideas about this fic, sparking a gigantic fire under 
my muse when she presented the idea.  I doff my hat 
to you, darling.  It's been a BLAST.

THANKS:  To our extraordinary beta reader, Fran 
Hartman, for fixing all our boo-boos and never 
complaining about it!  Of course, from here, we can't 
see her rolling her eyes as she reads!  Love you, 
babe.  You 'da bomb!

XXXXXXXXXX 
PROLOGUE (NC-17) 
CACHOT DÉSIRER 
FRIDAY EVENING

I couldn't see a thing.  The black silk blindfold hid 
my sight completely, not allowing a speck of light to 
come through.  My wrists and ankles were cuffed to 
the 'bench' that I was tied to.

I was helpless, at her mercy.  At the moment, she 
wasn't showing me any.

XXXXXXXXXXX  NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

I moaned in desperation as I felt the fat phallus 
slide inside me, punishing my prostate and spreading 
my sensitive membranes wide.  Fingers slithered up my 
torso and pinched one tight nipple.  I cried out, 
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh," an unintelligible sound of agony 
and ecstasy.

How much more could I take? I felt my cock throb, 
each beat of my heart pounding through it, so hard 
for so long that it ached. It was unbearable, yet all 
I could think was, "More, more, more!"  Her nails 
scraped the peak of my nipple again, making my cock 
surge painfully in its constraints. She had my 
genitals bound in a cock and ball harness and hanging 
through the hole in the bench, a willing captive.

I heard my sweet tormentor speak in a sultry voice, 
"Don't come yet, Pet.  Not yet."

"Oh Please, Mistress!" I begged. God. Oh God! So 
close. So fucking close.

"Not yet!" the sharp command came back to me.

"Ahhhhhhhh, Haaaaaaaaaaaa," I cried out, tears 
rolling down my face, wetting my blindfold.

Too much! It's too much! More, more, MORE!

A few more thrusts and I felt the invader spring to 
life, vibrating on high.  A rugged thumping began in 
my bowels and spread through my abdomen.  I screamed 
and then I felt a cool hand between my legs.  The 
cock and ball harness was quickly released as the 
vibrating thrusts continued.

Denied circulation so long, the pain was incredible 
as blood rushed into my cock.  I'd never felt this 
swollen.  I shouted in agony at the sensation and 
struggled,  "Oh God, Misss, God, I can't hold it!"

"Go on now.  Tell me how good it feels.  Come for me, 
Pet," the sultry voice floated into my ears. The 
large phallus plunged into me to the hilt, hitting at 
just the right angle. I screamed.

The mere sound of that voice giving permission made 
my tightly drawn up balls contract and spasm.  I felt 
cum surge up my shaft, stiffening me to the point of 
pain.  Fat globs of it sprayed out of me in stinging 
ropes as the large phallus jarred my ass harshly, 
abusing my hot spot. Surge after surge made my shaft 
jerk and twitch as it hung free and sprayed my cum 
all over the rubber mat on the floor.

Then I felt a hand reach around my hip and lightly 
grasp my spurting shaft and stroke it gently.  It was 
too much and I remembered my instruction to tell her 
how it felt.

"Oh Jesus, Oh Fuck, YES!  Oh, so good, Mistress!  Oh 
GOD!  My cock--Oh God, it burns!  Oh YES, SO GOOD, SO 
GOOD TO ME, I LOVE YOU, MISTRESS!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I heard a sultry chuckle and the vibrations stopped 
abruptly.  I was sweating and dizzy as I felt the 
shaft slowly exit my rectum.  Cool hands massaged my 
ass cheeks, helping my muscles to contract and close 
up.

"We're done now, Pet," my Mistress advised me.  Not 
Mulder, but Pet.  This is how she addressed me now 
when we were in play mode.

I panted gently as she removed my restraints and then 
she helped me stand on wobbly legs.  "Mistress?"

"Yes?"

"What about you?" I ask, knowing she didn't orgasm.

"I'm fine for now."

"O.K."

"We're done now, take off your blindfold."

I tore off my blindfold and gasped as I saw that we 
had an audience I knew nothing about.  He stood there 
in black leather shorts with suspenders and combat 
boots, an outfit I never could have imagined on him 
just a few short weeks ago. Yet seeing him now, it 
seemed to perfectly suit him. His grey chest hair 
covered a surprisingly well-toned chest, his pectoral 
muscles twitching as he languidly stroked at his 
penis, which was pulled out through the fly. This 
too, seemed perfectly natural to me.  He smiled at me 
and said, "I'm glad you came back, Fox.  I wondered 
if you would."

I swallowed and nodded, my mouth dry as a bone.  
"Sir," I acknowledged him.

"Gray," he corrected me.  Ah, he had a play name.

I nodded and then turned to look at my Mistress.  She 
smiled knowingly at me, handing me a towel to wrap 
around my hips and said, "Hit the shower.  I'll meet 
you in the lobby."

I nodded without saying anything and walked naked out 
into the hall, turned left, and headed to the open 
showers, knowing my clothes would be waiting for me 
in a locker.  My Mistress prepared for everything and 
always took care of me.

I felt my legs losing their rubbery quality as I 
continued to walk. My cock was flaccid now, but ached 
with a dull throb from its recent adventure.

I went through the frosted glass door and made my way 
to the showers.  I sighed as the hot water blasted me 
in the chest. I soaped thoroughly, careful to wash 
everything the way my Mistress taught me.  I felt the 
sweat and fluids sluice off of me and smiled again. 
If anyone had told me a few weeks ago that I would be 
in this place, happy to be submissive to my new 
Mistress, I would have laughed them out of D.C.

I felt renewed, reborn.  I was a new man, more 
content than I'd ever been, and I owed it all to one 
person.  My Mistress, the woman taken right from my 
deepest, darkest fantasies and given life, she who 
owned me, who loved me, who wielded the strap-on with 
such finesse!  I nearly giggled. I felt giddy, truly 
*happy*, and who could blame me? I had it all.

Minutes later I was dressed and in the lobby.  She 
got up from the padded bench where she was sitting 
and came toward me.  She stopped with her duffel bag 
slung over her shoulder.  She was dressed in civilian 
clothes now too, jeans and a blue blouse and 
sneakers.  Her make-up was gone, her hair brushed 
into a tidy coif. Her blood red lips were the only 
remaining clue of her transformation.  She said, 
"Your place or mine?"

"Yours is closer," I said.

"You win," she replied and I followed her out the 
door.

I win? Either way, how could I possibly lose?

I shook my head in wonder.  How did I get to this 
place? I began remembering how it all started.  It 
had taken a mere three weeks for my entire life to be 
turned upside down.  It started with an innocent 
request to help out on a murder case.  I should have 
known.

Nothing is simple when politics are involved, or 
sociopaths, for that matter.

XXXXXXXXXX
PART 1 (NC-17) 
CACHOT DÉSIRER 
WASHINGTON, D.C. 
THREE WEEKS EARLIER

I was a Senator in the real world.  Here though, I 
was just a sexual creature with no other purpose than 
to find fulfillment for myself, but first, for my 
mistress. I watched as my tormentor stood placidly 
looking at me, a captive audience.  I was hanging on 
the bondage board, my ankles snug in the inverted 
cuffs, and legs spread.  My wrists were similarly 
bound, the 45-degree angle of the board preventing 
the headache that came with direct inversion.  I 
panted slightly around the ball gag in my mouth, 
anticipating the pleasure to come.  Strands of rope 
surrounded the top of my ball sack and wove their way 
half way up my painfully erect penis.  My tormentor 
stepped forward and squatted down, giving me a 
clearer view of black leather hugging slim hips.  I 
moaned as I smelled arousal, my own and my 
tormentor's.

I peered up, trying to see the face, wondering why I 
hadn't been blindfolded as usual.  Finally, my 
tormentor spoke.  "I'm going to ask you again, JJ.  
Are you going to change your vote?"

I closed my eyes, sighing, wishing we could just let 
the subject drop, wishing we wouldn't mix business 
with pleasure.  JJ was my play name.  Jack was my 
real name.  This world was separate from my career 
and I didn't want to mix the two.  I couldn't speak 
because of the ball gag.  I wanted to explain that it 
wasn't that simple.  I was beholden to people.  I 
shook my head in the negative.  "I fffannnt," I tried 
to say around the gag.  Drool trickled from the 
corners of my mouth for my efforts.

"I'm sorry, JJ, that's simply not acceptable."

"Caaaaaake, ouuuuuuu!"  I was trying to ask that the 
ball gag be taken out.  I wanted to discuss this, but 
not while I was in play mode.  My submissive 
headspace was vanishing and it made me angry.

I saw my tormentor's head shake slightly.  "It's a 
shame, really," said the tired voice. "I liked you."

The look in the eye of my tormentor changed then. I 
saw the gleam as my tormentor drew closer and I felt 
true fear for the first time in a long time.

XXXXXXXXXX  NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX

"WWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHhh!" I cried as a hot, wet mouth 
was lowered to my penis.  I didn't want this now!

I groaned as the mouth latched onto only the tip of 
my erection and sucked hard.

From nowhere, another rope appeared.  It was soft 
parachute cord and was slip knotted around my neck 
next to the dog collar I was wearing.  I fought my 
arousal along with the fear.  The fear was, to my 
eternal shame, heightening my arousal.

The mouth sunk a little lower, till lips met the 
first wrapping of rope, which was about half way down 
my erect penis.  I felt hard suction and one hand 
began to squeeze my aching ball sack, bloated and 
throbbing with cum held back by the rope choking its 
exit.  I groaned loudly again, and felt the rope 
around my neck tighten as it was pulled gently.  I 
gagged, feeling my wind further restricted, and the 
suction got harder.

Without warning, I felt a yank on the carefully 
applied knots and the rope unwound from my balls and 
penis and cascaded to the floor.  The sudden rush of 
blood into my balls and penis was painful and I cried 
out, "AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhh!"

Cum swirled in my clenching balls and rocketed up my 
shaft.  The hand released the rope around my neck. 
Suddenly cellophane was being wrapped around my nose 
and mouth.  I screamed, "NNNNNNNNNNHHHHHHHHHHHHH," 
but it continued.  I ejaculated hard as my wind was 
completely shut off.    My cum sprayed down my chest, 
hitting me in the chin and I felt another surge of 
pleasure and began ejaculating again.

XXXXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX

Another sheet of cellophane was wrapped around my 
head and secured in the back.  I shook my head, 
crying and trying to scream, but the cellophane 
blocked the sound and all that came out was pathetic 
grunting. My tormentor squatted down again and then 
fell onto all fours, the beloved face an inch from 
mine.

White spots were flashing through my vision as I 
sucked desperately, hoping to break the cellophane.  
I realized it wasn't going to be released.  I noticed 
the gloves my tormentor was wearing.    Black 
leather.  No fingerprints.   *Oh God, No!* I screamed 
in my head, feeling my lungs burn and my ears ring.

I dimly heard the voice say, "You should have changed 
your vote."

*Patty, I'm so sorry,* I thought, and then everything 
went black.

XXXXXXXXXX

I started at the rapid pounding on the door.  It was 
opening before I could reply. "Come in," I said, 
sliding the ledger into the top desk drawer.

Marguerite, my wife, or Margot as I sometimes called 
her, burst into the room, her normally pale face 
ashen. "Jean, ... Oh my God, come quickly."

"Margot, what is it?" I asked calmly.  My wife did 
not panic easily and she was clearly panicked.

"Come, Senator Thompson ..."

"What about him?" I asked as I followed her tall, 
lithe form out the door.  I trotted to keep up with 
her, feeling fear squeeze my chest.

"Oh Jean ... Oh God," she muttered.

"Margot!" I shouted.  She stopped and turned, frozen 
in place, her face crumpling into a mask of distress.  
"Jean, he's dead."

"Dead?  What are you talking about?"

"Come quickly.  Maureen is beside herself."

We both broke into a trot and headed for Maureen's 
room. Marguerite stepped to the side of the door and 
watched me as I burst through the open doorway and 
came to a halt, an audible gasp coming from my lips. 
I rushed to the Senator, pressing two fingers to his 
throat, even though it was clear the Senator was not 
breathing.  I ripped the cellophane from his mouth.

Maureen was huddled against the wall, hugging her 
knees and sobbing.

I barked, "Maureen, why didn't you get him down?"

Marguerite entered the room as Maureen wailed, "I was 
afraid to touch him!  Oh God, Jean Luc!"

I motioned for Marguerite.  "Margot, help me get him 
down."

She walked stiffly toward us, watching me undo his 
wrist shackles. I gripped him under the arms and 
Marguerite reached up to undo the ankle cuffs.  He 
slid clumsily down the board as I backed up and laid 
him on the floor.  Trying to remain calm, I checked 
his pulse again, looked at his blue lips.  I turned 
to Marguerite.  "Call Washington.  We need to know 
how to handle this."

She nodded and briskly retreated from the room.  I 
began CPR, knowing it would do no good.  After ten 
minutes, I gave up. Kneeling next to the Senator, 
sweating and panting, I reached up and closed his 
eyes gently.  I turned to Maureen, still huddling and 
rocking, her back to the wall.  I barked at her, 
asking, "How did this happen, Maureen?"
 
She flinched and peered at me over the arms crossed 
around her knees and said through her tears, "I don't 
know.  I left to use the bathroom.  I swear I was 
only gone for about four or five minutes."

I knew my face turned incredulous.  "You left him 
suffocating for four or five minutes?" I nearly 
exploded, my voice booming off the walls.

She flinched again and shook her head quickly. "No!  
I didn't put the cellophane on.  He just had a ball 
gag when I left.  He wasn't into that ... suffocation.  
Just the gag.  That's all we ever used!"

I took a deep breath and let my chin hang to my 
chest, trying to rein in my temper.  Shouting at 
Maureen was not going to fix this. As owner of the 
Cachot Desirer, I had responsibilities and losing my 
cool was not in the cards for me.  "This is bad, 
Maureen, very bad," I said gently.  Judging by the 
mask of fear that formed on her face, my voice must 
have sounded more menacing for its softness.

"I know.  I'm sorry, Jean Luc.  I never should have 
left him.  Who would do something like this?  OH GOD, 
I'M SO SORRY!" she wailed.

I sighed and moved over to her, plopping down on the 
floor next to her.  She launched into my arms and I 
awkwardly wrapped my big arms around her skinny back, 
patting it gently, noting absently that her nipples 
were hard and poking out of the leather torso harness 
she was wearing.  Must be the fear.

I set her back gently.  "Go get cleaned up, Maureen.  
I'm sealing the room until I hear from Washington. No 
one goes in or out, including you, got it?"

She nodded dumbly and crawled to her knees and then 
stood.  She glanced at Senator Thompson and then 
walked out slowly. Poor thing.

I sighed deeply and stood, retrieving the huge key 
ring that hung from my belt.  I flipped through the 
numbered keys until I found Room 2A and slipped into 
the hallway, turning and locking the door securely. 
From the wall rack, I took a DO NOT DISTURB sign and 
hung it on the knob.  No one would dare enter, and 
just in case, it would remain locked.  I worried for 
a moment that my prints would be on the Senator's 
skin, but both Maureen and Marguerite had seen me 
administer CPR.

I headed back to the office to find Marguerite, and 
find out what the instructions were from our Capitol 
Hill contact.

This was bad.  This could ruin my club. I fought for 
so many years just to become established and this 
could ruin everything.  My clientele was exclusive 
and sensitive.  Word of this could cause a mass 
exodus.

I would leave informing Jack's wife to our man in 
Washington. That would suck.  She definitely didn't 
know of his sexual appetites, much less that they 
were satisfied here on a weekly basis.   I sent a 
little prayer to the ceiling that I came out of this 
one unscathed.

Death was definitely bad for business.

XXXXXXXXXX
PART 2 (PG-13) 
OFFICE OF SENATOR MATHESON 
CAPITAL HILL 
WASHINGTON, D.C.

I might express complete skepticism of the concept of 
Fate, but there are instances when it's truly 
difficult not to notice how some events, no matter 
how inconsequential they may seem at the time, later 
play a part in your life as though they were destined 
to do so.  He called me Agent Scully now, and no one, 
not even my partner, was aware that I had known 
Senator Matheson long before he did.  Who could know 
all those years ago when I first came face to face 
with Senator Matheson that our seemingly random 
meeting would come to hold so much weight over me 
now?  Was it just cosmic coincidence?
 
Normally, I would answer, yes.

Sitting here in the Senator's office, listening as he 
recounted the details of the case now in question, 
however, it looked a whole lot more like I'm the 
punch line of a very bad cosmic joke.  I do credit 
myself with having a least a modicum of good humor, 
and maybe I'd be chuckling right along with Fate over 
this latest little curve it's thrown me, if it 
weren't for the simple fact that, even from a chair 
away, I heard my partner's sharp intake of breath at 
the words 'fetish club'.

"Ah, excuse me, Sir.  Did I hear you correctly?  Did 
you say this is our case?  We're not just 
consulting?"  Mulder asked, sitting up a little 
straighter in his seat.

Senator Matheson just smiled at him like some over 
indulgent father. "Yes, Fox."

Another one that can call him Fox, I thought.

Mulder glanced at me, an uncomfortable grimace 
twitching at the corners of his mouth. He cleared his 
throat nervously before turning back to Matheson.  "I 
guess I'm just a little curious as to why you'd think 
of me for something like this, Sir.  From everything 
you've told us so far, I don't see any indication of 
the paranormal overtones that usually warrant the 
involvement of the X-Files."

Typical Mulder, already assuming we'd been summoned 
here because of *him*.

If he noticed the fleeting look that the Senator gave 
in my direction, he showed no outward sign of it.

"Fox, you're going to have to trust me on this and 
just accept that I do indeed have my reasons for 
requesting your help and leave it at that. I 
simply can not disclose anything further than that."

"But--"

"I have discussed this matter in depth with your 
Assistant Director, and he assured me that I could 
count on your complete cooperation, as well as your 
utmost discretion."

I watched as Mulder's eyes narrowed. Apparently, 
pulling rank on him wasn't something the Senator 
usually did, and it threw him a little.  Still, like 
an eager schoolboy, he nodded emphatically, "Of 
course you can, Sir."

I almost rolled my eyes at the sight of Mulder's 
obvious hero worship of this man. Then again, I 
tended to forget that Senator Matheson championed 
Mulder and the X-Files long before the division 
carried its 78% solve-rate.

Matheson just beamed at him. "I knew I could, Fox.  I 
have absolute faith in both your and Agent Scully's 
investigative abilities, which were, of course, my 
primary motivation for choosing you for the case." 
His eyes briefly slid over to me again.

Fortunately, Mulder was too busy puffing with pride 
over the Senator's well-worded diversion of the issue 
to even notice he'd been placated. Matheson was a 
smooth operator.  I had to give him that.

"Now, let's get down to the basics, shall we?" he 
continued, in his strangely serene voice.  "'The 
Cachot Desirer' is a very low profile, highly 
exclusive club. Now, I'm sure I don't need to stress 
how important confidentiality is with this case, Fox.  
You will more than likely come face to face with a 
few very high-ups during the course of your 
investigation, but the knowledge of their involvement 
must never make it into any type of documented 
report."

Oh, this was too much.  Was he suggesting a cover-up?  
"Excuse me, Senator," I interrupted.  "Am I to 
understand that you'd like us to *lie* on our 
report?"

Mulder turned to me sharply. "Scully, the Senator 
would never ..." he began.

"No, no, no, Fox, that's quite all right," the 
Senator replied, cutting him off.  Mulder turned back 
to him, apology written all over his face.  Matheson 
didn't look the least bit ruffled.  "Agent Scully has 
every right to question my statement."  He shifted 
his attention to me, his gaze penetrating. "All that 
I am asking is that you and Fox remain as discreet as 
possible.  Surely, you can understand the need for 
secrecy and discretion. After all, those in certain 
high-profile positions must consider their 
reputations."

The son of a bitch was actually *smiling* at me.

"As must we all, wouldn't you agree?" he added.

Was it just me, or was that a thinly veiled threat?  
He was apparently forgetting this went two ways.

"Yes, of course, Senator.  I wouldn't want to 
personally be responsible for damaging *anyone's* 
political career."  I said it innocently enough, but 
judging by the twitch of his jaw, I'd say he got my 
point.

Cool as a cucumber, he replied, "Naturally, I assumed 
you'd feel this way, which is why I've taken the 
liberty of insuring that all progress made in this 
investigation be reported directly to me and no one 
else.  I will, in turn, inform Assistant Director 
Skinner of any pertinent information."

This finally seemed to be enough to startle Mulder. 
"We're to report directly to you, Sir?"

Matheson returned Mulder's questioning look evenly.  
"And *no one* else, Fox.  I can't stress enough to 
you the importance of this."

Mulder just nodded mutely, but I could tell this 
entire set-up had his 'Spooky-Sense' tingling.  
'Going to tamper with the information, Senator?' I 
wondered.  He would have complete control over what 
was reported to the Bureau.  Until we knew more, I 
wasn't sure if that was a good thing, or a bad thing.

"Now," the Senator began again, "you both need to be 
very careful. Due to the delicate nature of this 
case, you can't count on any type of conventional 
back up.  Once you are accepted as members into the 
club, it is *imperative* that you appear completely 
at ease within its environment. These individuals can 
spot police and media from a mile away.  You must 
leave them with absolutely no room to doubt that you 
are exactly what you appear to be. This is a very 
tight knit community and very difficult to 
penetrate."

Mulder shifted uncomfortably again. "With all due 
respect, Sir, how can Agent Scully and I have any 
hope of getting close to these people?"

"Mmmm."  He moved to take two beige colored envelopes 
from his desk and scooted them across to Mulder. 
"These are letters of recommendation, and I must ask 
that they remain sealed to protect the identities of 
the members aiding us in your infiltration the club."

"That's it?" Mulder asked, sounding a little 
surprised.  "We just hand these over and they'll take 
us in, no questions asked?"  He shook his head.  
"Seems a little too easy."

"Not if you had any idea of the names on those 
letters," the Senator replied gravely.  "But, in any 
case, yes, getting in *is* the easy part.  Just give 
these envelopes to personally and directly to Jean 
Luc Dantonet, the owner of the club, and no one else.  
You'll get in. The hard part is in convincing them 
that you belong there."

Mulder gave me another nervous glance. "So I take it 
we're undercover for this?"

"Absolutely. You can't go in there waving a badge 
around.  The blue wall of silence has nothing on 
these people.  Your covers are simple enough: George 
and Katherine Hale, both working in legislative 
branches of government in upper level positions of 
reasonable influence.  You can request private rooms 
to ensure your, um, level of privacy and safety.  
Before you can make your way into one of those rooms, 
you will still need to look the part. So I'll be 
issuing you both credit cards to use for any 
necessary purchases in that regard."

Mulder was actually blushing and I couldn't help but 
wonder if he was trying as hard not to picture me in 
a leather teddy as I was trying not to picture him in 
a g-string. "You we're, you want us to go shopping 
for, um ... *gear*, Sir?" he asked, his voice 
squeaking on the word 'gear'.

"Fox, I know this is a difficult assignment, to say 
the very least, but this murder has been given top 
priority by the State Department."

"And that's your only interest in it, Sir?"  I 
couldn't help but ask, if only just to see him squirm 
a little.

"No, Agent Scully.  My interest is personal," he 
replied smoothly.

"Really?" I countered.

"The victim, Senator Jack Thompson, was a dear friend 
of mine. He was set to cast the deciding vote on a 
very sticky piece of legislation.  If someone has 
decided to target those in office, any number of 
people could be at risk."

"Including you," I replied.  It was a statement.

He waved his hand as if to dismiss the notion.  
"Perhaps yes, but for myself, I feel a deep sense of 
responsibility to Senator Thompson and his family.  I 
would like to see his murderer caught without his 
name being smeared across the tabloids.  He was a 
good man, with an honorable record.  It's bad enough 
his wife and children know *where* he was killed.  
They don't need that information going public. 
Senator Thompson had ties to the highest levels in 
the State Department.  This has made them very 
nervous, which is no doubt the reason for them giving 
me carte blanche to obtain the investigators and 
spend whatever I deem necessary to ensure a smooth 
infiltration of the club.  As I said, Senator 
Thompson was a honorable man."

"Just one with questionable tastes," I said 
carefully.  And who cheated on his wife, I added 
silently.  Very honorable, that.

"Questionable to some, Agent Scully. It's not my 
place, or yours, to judge," he replied with candor.

"Sir, you can count on our complete dedication to 
this investigation," Mulder hurriedly added, 
thinking, I'm sure, that I'd managed to offend the 
Senator's delicate sensibilities.

"Of that, I'm certain."  He gave us both a charming 
smile.  "So, if there are no further questions, I 
suggest you get started as soon as possible.  It may 
be prudent for you to do some research, Fox. Educate 
yourself before approaching the other members. I'm 
sure I don't need to remind you that this needs to 
progress quickly, so you are very pressed for time.  
I'd like to see you enter the club by the beginning 
of the week, so that gives you an extremely limited 
duration in which to prepare.   Use it wisely."

Mulder completely missed that he didn't suggest *I* 
do any research.  His inflated ego was probably, once 
again, assuming he would have to deal with the nasty 
business of all things sexual.

With that, the senator stood, moving around his desk 
to hand Mulder another small white envelope. "You'll 
find everything you'll need in here."

Mulder and I stood, looking at each other a little 
awkwardly, before making our way to the door.

"Good luck, Agents," Matheson called after us.

"Thank you, Sir," Mulder replied, opening the door 
for me.  "We'll be in touch."

I glanced behind me as I walked through.  Senator 
Matheson was watching me carefully. Our eyes caught.

He nodded just slightly before I turned away.  
Bastard.

XXXXXXXXXX
PART 3 (PG-13) 
SOMEWHERE ON THE BELTWAY

Silence reigned in the car for about five minutes.  
Finally she asked, "Where are we going, Mulder?"

"Wanna go to Jackie's Diner, see what's in that 
envelope and, um, talk about this?"

"Yeah," was her abrupt answer.  More silence.  
Nothing was said for the rest of the drive, until I 
dipped off the beltway into Falls Church and headed 
for the diner.

Five more minutes passed before I finally managed to 
pull into the small, dim parking lot.  "Come on, 
Scully," I said, moving quickly to exit the car.

"Geez, Mulder.  You just can't wait to start cracking 
the whip, can you?"

I stopped abruptly, my mouth dropping.  She casually 
stepped out of the car, not once glancing back at me 
as she made her way to the entrance. Her tone had 
been light. She had to be kidding.

No, no, no.

Please God, I thought, let her be kidding.

XXXXXXXXXX
JACKIE'S DINER 
FALL'S CHURCH, VA

We entered and chose the booth farthest in the back. 
The waitress came and the tone of our talk was set 
immediately when we both politely refused her offer 
of the "daily pie special" and ordered only coffee. 
Yeah, that's what I needed, plain, black coffee.  I 
hadn't drank in ages but right at that moment, for 
some reason, I really felt like I needed to sober up.  
And quick.  *I will not think of Scully in leather. I 
will not think of Scully in leather,* I chanted to 
myself.

We sat in heavy silence until after our mugs were 
brought to us. Scully made monumental work out of 
adding cream to her cup.  I sipped mine straight, 
letting it burn what felt like a coat of nervousness 
off my tongue, truly hoping maybe it would be enough 
to shock me into opening my mouth and really talking 
to her about what we were about to do.

What we were about to do.

Holy shit.

*I will not think of Scully in leather. I will not 
think of Scully in leather. I will not--*

"So what's in the other envelope?" she asked.

I grinned a little at her and took the envelope out 
of my coat pocket, my hands shaking as I ripped it 
open.  Inside were two credit cards with our false 
names on them, George and Katherine Hale.  I pushed 
one across the table at her.  She picked it up, 
looked at it and slipped it into her jacket pocket.

"So," she began.

"So, this should be interesting," I countered.

She smirked.  "What are you thinking?"

Well, I thought, there's that leather thing.

"That we're gonna need some ground rules," I said 
immediately.

"Like what?"

I sighed.  How could I say this to her?  We'd never 
even remotely approached the topic of sex, let alone 
had a detailed discussion about it.  This was going 
to be awkward, to say the least.

"Look, Scully, we've been in undercover situations 
before.  I mean, I know we're professionals ..."  I 
trailed off, suddenly and completely at a loss for 
words.

"And your point?" she asked calmly.

I blew out a breath past pursed lips.  "We've never 
talked about this sort of thing."

"What, sex?" she asked, and I was a little startled 
by her bluntness.

"Yeah.  I mean, I know this sort of ... deviation isn't 
your kind of thing."

"You don't say?" she mocked.  It wasn't helping any 
that this seemed to be amusing her.

"Please don't be sarcastic, Scully," I said 
seriously.  "This is hard enough for me as it is."

"How hard, Mulder?" she asked, a definite tease in 
her voice.

My eyes snapped up to meet hers and saw the full- 
blown smile on her face.  I lost my composure and 
started laughing, the nervousness finally breaking 
out in mirth.

She laughed with me and then got it under control. 
"I'm sorry, I couldn't resist," she said. "This is 
just a bit much to contend with all at once."

I smiled at her again and then got serious.  "He said 
we could ask for a private room.  That's good."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, we don't have to actually *do* anything.  
We just have to, uhhh, you know?"

"Look the part," she clarified.

"Right."

"I can do that."

"Not very well, I hope," I said ruefully.

I watched as her brows knit together. "Mulder, what?"

I bit the bullet and decided that I needed to be 
completely honest with her. "Look, Scully, there's no 
way I'm going to go into that club, and see you 
dressed up in, whatever, and not respond to it."  I 
looked at the table and felt heat rising in my face, 
hoping like hell she wasn't going to ask me to 
elaborate.  It was bad enough that I couldn't help 
picturing her in a little black leather bra and 
thong; she didn't need to know how much the image 
excited me.  I felt my groin tingle and shifted 
uneasily in my chair.

Her eyes got slightly bigger and a look I couldn't 
decipher crossed her face.  Her lips tipped up at the 
corners like she was trying hard to suppress a smile. 
"I won't hold it against you, Mulder."
 
'Too bad,' I thought.  I looked at her, hearing an 
odd quality to her voice.  I figured it must be her 
trying *not* to appear offended or overwhelmed by 
what we were about to do.  "Look, I think ... maybe I 
should take the lead in this."

"And that means what, exactly?" she asked.

"Just that, you know, when we go in there, I should 
do most of the talking ... at first anyway.  I'm not 
implying ..." I struggled for the right words.

"That I'm not as sexually educated as you are?" she 
asked in a steady tone.

I stared at her.  "That's not what I mean.  I just 
think that, I mean, I'm sure that this environment 
will make you uncomfortable, and I just," I 
stuttered.

"What?"

"I'd like to make it easier on you, I guess."

"I see."

Something wasn't right here.  I could hear it in her 
voice.  "What are your thoughts, Scully?" I asked, 
figuring maybe I could get a clue about what was 
going on with her.

"Well, I think we should play it by ear.  I agree 
that the private room is a good thing.  We can just 
pretend we've done something," she said, her words 
trailing off.

"Right, we just need to be sweaty when we come out."  
I felt the heat rise to my cheeks again, the 
implications sounding explicit even to me.

She snickered. "This could very well give me ample 
opportunity to work on my self defense training."

I grinned back.  "Well, then, at least one of us is 
sure to look molested. You *were* absent the day they 
concentrated on subduing your assailant with blows to 
the groin, right?"

"Actually, if I remember correctly, I excelled at 
that in particular," she said as she smirked.

We fell silent for a long moment, the tension rising 
again. Finally, she looked at me seriously and said 
quietly, "I'm thinking we should be prepared."

"For what, exactly?" I queried, nervous.

"We're supposed to be husband and wife, right? That 
means they'll expect us to behave a certain way."

"Meaning?" I swallowed hard.

She looked away, obviously uncomfortable.  "Oh, come 
on, Mulder.  Do I really need to spell it out?  Be 
more, I don't know, *familiar* physically, touch each 
other, that kind of thing."

"Touch each other?" I repeated, my voice 
embarrassingly breathy. I began to harden and shifted 
uncomfortably.

She licked her lips.  My eyes were drawn to them like 
a magnet. She smiled a shaky smile.  "Yeah, I mean, 
we might need to, I don't know, behave in a more 
intimate fashion in front of them to be convincing."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

"Could you do that, Mulder?" she asked, not looking 
at me.

"Yeah," I said, my voice dropping alarmingly low 
without any effort as I pictured me bending her over 
my arm and plunging my tongue into her mouth.  My 
dick hardened fully and I squeezed my legs together, 
trying to relieve the pressure that was building in 
my groin.

Jesus, I could be such a pig.

Her eyes met mine briefly before she blinked rapidly 
and slid her gaze to the coffee cup, picking it up 
and drinking with a nervous motion.  "We just need to 
remain professional and objective."  She cleared her 
throat.  "I mean, it would be easy to," she started 
to say.

"Misinterpret something," I finished for her.

She nodded.  "Yeah, and I think we just need to 
understand that," she said, trying again.

"It doesn't mean anything," I said, hearing the 
sadness in my voice as I finished her sentence for 
her again.

She peered at me closely, obviously detecting it, 
too.  "Mulder, I think it just means we need to be 
careful."

"Of what?"

"I'm not sure what I'm saying," she admitted finally 
after a small silence.

I cleared my throat.  "Look, Scully. We're both 
adults here. We can get through this without it 
turning into a big thing," I started.

"What? A sexual harassment case?" she asked, giving 
me 'the brow'.  It was her turn to finish my 
sentences, apparently.

"Yeah, something like that." I looked down, unable to 
meet her eyes.

"Look, if we get confused about something, we just 
need to talk about it, all right?  Fair enough?"

Who was she kidding? Scully and I didn't 'talk' about 
our feelings. Ever.  I met her eyes carefully. 
"Scully, I'm already confused. More than likely, 
things are just gonna get worse from here."

"Mulder, we can't refuse this case."

"I wasn't suggesting we should even consider that."

"Then, what? We can't be *this* concerned with 
offending each other.  We have a job to do, a case to 
solve, and I think we're losing sight of what we need 
to focus on here."  She was right, of course. Damn 
it, we *were* professionals!  So why couldn't I seem 
to see past the fact that I was going to have to try 
like hell not to want to take advantage of the 
situation?

I mean, fuck.  Did this mean I could grab her, kiss 
her, press her body against mine, all under the guise 
of 'putting on a show'?  No, no, no.  I couldn't let 
myself think too closely about any of that, not 
without embarrassing myself.  As it was, I had to 
hope we wouldn't be getting up from the booth anytime 
soon, or she was sure to know *exactly* the direction 
my thoughts were going.  "O.K., we're really going to 
have to be careful. On a variety of levels, granted," 
I said, my mind still buzzing.

"Right."  She cleared her throat.  "Mulder, I think 
the least of our concerns will be our personal issues 
with this assignment. Have you considered the 
possibility that our suspects could very easily be 
persons with some major clout?  They could bury us if 
we blow this."

I shook my head, agreeing.  "It does sound like there 
are some real power players involved in this club."

"Yeah, and Matheson wasn't subtle about hinting that 
political careers are on the line.  I'm assuming Jack 
Thompson's wife didn't know of his fetishes.  And you 
can sure as hell bet there are a number of other 
members with more than infidelity motivating them to 
keep their involvement secret."

"That would be a given."  I took a deep breath.  
"This sort of thing could blow Capital Hill wide 
open. I mean, Christ, our president can't even get a 
blowjob without ruining his career.  Can you imagine 
what information like this would do if it got out?"

Scully laughed a little and then sighed, shaking her 
head. "Yeah, Bill Clinton reformed Welfare, reduced 
the deficit and did some other good things, but all 
he'll be remembered for is getting a hummer in the 
Oval Office."

It was my turn to laugh at her rejoinder.  The word 
*hummer* was not a word I would have ever imagined 
coming out of the mouth of the proper, buttoned down, 
Special Agent, Dr. Dana Scully.  "You keep surprising 
me, Scully," I blurted out.

"Why?  Because I have a sense of humor?  Or because I 
can say the word sex without cringing?" she asked.

I could hear the hurt in her voice.  Did it bother 
her that I thought she was ... what *did* I think she 
was?  Naïve?  Inhibited? Sexually repressed?  
Honestly, I had no clue. Thinking too much about sex 
and Scully at the same time could get dangerous.  
"No, I didn't mean that at all," I said, 
backpedaling.

"Then what did you mean?"

"I don't know.  I guess it's just that we've never 
talked about sex in any capacity, and so I don't know 
what to expect."

"You thought I'd be offended?"

"I don't know, Scully," I replied, frustrated, and 
not wanting to insult her.

She nodded, looking away again.  We took turns 
sipping our lukewarm coffee, the air between us 
growing thicker by the second.

After a few moments, it got to be too much.  "Now 
what?" I suddenly blurted out.

I heard her take a deep breath.  "Well, Mulder.  
First things first.  I think we need to go shopping," 
she said, neatly changing the subject.

My face flushed. "Yeah, that's as good a place to 
start as any, I guess," I said quietly, and looked at 
her from under my lashes.

"Do you know where to go?" she asked gently.

"Uhhhh, I don't really know where to go for what we 
need *specifically*.  I, ummm, I've bought a couple 
of those videos that aren't really mine downtown." Oh 
for Christ's sake! Why the fuck did I tell her that?  
"There are a few shops in the area that sell, stuff.  
I remember seeing one ... I think it was called 'The 
Crucible.'  Something like that," I muttered, my face 
on fire by the time I was finished.

"Mulder, stop babbling and don't worry."  She smiled 
at me indulgently.  "Why don't we just go to 'The 
Kitten's Toy Room'. They specialize in what we'll 
need."

"What?" I whispered, stunned that she would even know 
where these places were located, let alone the name 
of a specific one that would specialize in 'what 
we'll need.'

"Uh," she looked embarrassed now, looking at her lap.

"Scully?"

"What?" she asked too quickly and squared her 
shoulders, looking at me and daring me to make a 
juvenile or teasing comment.

"You've been to the 'The Kitten's Toy Room'?" I asked 
gently.

She looked down, away from me. "Mulder," she said, 
her voice holding a warning.

I nodded slowly.  "I'm sorry, Scully. That's really 
none of my business."

Oh God.

She stood. "The Kitten's Toy Room, then?"

"Let's ride, partner," I said, realizing the innuendo 
in that comment when I earned the eyebrow from Scully 
as she turned and walked away from the booth.

I stood, throwing a five on the table.  "I will not 
think of Scully in leather," I muttered.

XXXXXXXXXX
PART 4 (R) 
THE KITTEN'S TOY ROOM 
WASHINGTON, D.C.

I parked at the curb and looked at Scully after 
shutting off the engine.

"What?" she asked, wondering what my problem was now, 
no doubt.

"I'm just wondering if we should go home and change 
first."

"Change into what?"

I looked at my lap.  "I don't know, more casual 
clothes.  We look like FBI agents, Scully."

"I don't think it matters, Mulder.  The people here 
are very discreet."

I looked up at her, raising an eyebrow.  "And you 
know this, how?"

She smirked slightly and it was her turn to look 
away. "Professional people need discretion, Mulder," 
was her cryptic answer.

I sighed, thinking that if I had to fight for every 
scrap of information this was going to be tough.  We 
really needed to get over this nervousness that was 
plaguing us both.  Especially on an assignment like 
this, it was going to be critical that the lines of 
communication stay open.

For Scully and me, this was no easy task even under 
the most normal of circumstances.

She turned at the sound of my sigh.  "What is it that 
you want to know, Mulder?" she asked, sounding 
resigned.

"Look, I don't mean to pry, Scully.  Sarcasm and 
innuendo come naturally to me.  It's what I do when 
I'm nervous," I admitted softly.

She gave me a closed-lipped smile.  I wasn't sure if 
she was amused, or if she felt sorry for me.  Lord 
knows, I didn't want her pity, despite the fact that 
I probably deserved it, clueless bastard that I am. 
"Why are you nervous?" she asked carefully.

I chuckled now, a self-deprecating sound.  "Why?  Why 
do you think?  I'm about to go into a sex shop with 
my partner.  I missed this section at Quantico, so 
proper protocol for this event is beyond me at this 
point. I mean, believe it or not, I do like to keep 
my cool, Scully.  I don't like the idea of you 
watching me regress back to fits of awkward 
adolescent laughter at the first sight of a dildo."

"Why would you feel awkward?" she sounded genuinely 
puzzled, though the muscle in her cheek twitched.

I swallowed.  All right, if I was going to expect her 
to be forthcoming, then I guess I would have to be 
too.  Let's see how she liked it.  Maybe I could 
shock her out of these stupid questions.  She 
obviously wasn't getting the message.  "Scully, if 
you think I'm going to go in there and not get 
excited, think again, all right?"

Her mouth opened into an 'O', and then she closed it 
again, definitely amused this time.  "Just looking at 
the toys is going to do it for you, Mulder?  You're 
easily amused," she said, a tease in her voice.

"Well, there is the added element of your presence 
along with the toys, Scully."

"Ahhh," she said, smiling widely now.  "Again, I 
won't hold it against you." She chuckled shyly. 
"Honestly, Mulder, what do think?  That I'm made of 
stone?"

I looked at her.  "I don't know."

"Well, I'm not.  What makes you think I'm not 
picturing you in a leather G-string?"

Shocked, I started laughing.  "Not a pretty sight," I 
mumbled.

She closed her eyes.  "Oh God, you're right." I felt 
myself visibly deflate.  "Wait, wait. I was picturing 
Frohike," she giggled in response.

"What a coincidence, so was I."  Now we both started 
laughing.  It broke some of the tension that was 
hovering in the air between us.

"We're going to have to talk, Scully.  You know, if 
things get too weird or whatever. We may get to know 
more about each other than we ever meant to find 
out."

"Quit threatening me, Mulder," she replied with a wry 
grin.  She turned to look out the window at the 
storefront.  "Look, we're adults," she reminded me 
again.   "We can do this.  We'll pick out outfits 
that don't push the envelope too much but give the 
impression that we are used to the lifestyle. They're 
not all obscene, you know?"

'And how would you know, Scully?' I wanted to ask.  I 
decided keeping my mouth shut this time was the 
better part of valor.  "I know.  What about toys?"

"We'll get some tamer ones."

"Such as?" I asked.

She bit her lip. "I don't know."

"Ummm, O.K.  Let me think, here.  Recalling the film 
brilliance that was 'Beat Me In St. Louis', we could 
probably get by with a fuzzy mitten, a couple of 
paddles, maybe a dog collar and leash," I suggested.

"And outfits," she added. It was a statement.

I shifted in the seat. "Yeah," I croaked out.

"What do *you* suggest?" she asked, a lure in her 
voice.  "Based on your plethora of viewing 
experience," she added.

"Leather, and lots of it," I blurted out, retreating 
into familiar teasing innuendo.

Her eyes widened and I held her gaze.  "For you or 
me?"

"Both of us."  We stared at each other for a long 
moment. I cleared my throat. "They probably have some 
leather pants I could pick up."

"Let's see what they have.  We can make it up as we 
go along.  If we need to step outside to talk, we 
can.  There's no rule against that."

"O.K., let's get this over with.  Just think, we have 
an unlimited expense account.  This is a once in a 
lifetime opportunity to buy all the toys you always 
wanted but never could afford," I quipped.

She opened her door and stepped out on the sidewalk, 
slamming the door behind her.  I followed and locked 
the car and joined her on the sidewalk.  I was still 
wondering how much she knew about what we were going 
to see.  She'd alluded to the fact that she'd been in 
there before.  Did she know what all that stuff was 
for?  Did it titillate her or disgust her?  Was she 
nervous?  I honestly couldn't tell.  She had such a 
poker face when she wanted to.

She smiled up at me.  "Let's go cost the Senator some 
money."  She grinned and surprised me when she 
stepped out ahead of me, no hesitation in her manner 
at all.  I reached around her and held the door, 
ushering her inside with my hand on the small of her 
back.

The place was silent as a mausoleum when we entered.  
We passed by the check out counter on the way in, a 
long Formica-topped affair with a cash register and 
various tabletop displays showcasing a variety of 
nipple clamps and smaller items.  Under the counter 
was a glass case, much like a jewelry store, that 
held all sorts of jewelry and accessories.  A tall 
man with a face like Big Bird sat on a stool behind 
the counter, his dyed blonde hair spiked into a 
hundred different directions.  His skinny arms were a 
mass of writhing tattoos, so dense you couldn't even 
tell what they were without putting your nose up to 
his arm, something I had no intention of doing.

"'Ello," he greeted us with a faint British accent.  
I started slightly when he raised his head to look at 
me.  He looked like he'd fallen down a set of stairs 
carrying a tackle box.  The man had more metal in his 
face than a bait & tackle shop.  Small gold and 
silver rings protruded from just about every feature; 
four eyebrow rings, two nose rings, and four more of 
them graced his lips.  He smiled and I could see a 
tongue stub winking inside his mouth.  His ears were 
festooned with holes from the lobes to the top of the 
shell, dense with jewelry.  If this guy ever had to 
go through a metal detector, he was fucked.  Heaven 
forbid he came within 10 feet of a magnet.

I smiled at him.  "Hello," I said as nonchalantly as 
possible, which of course, ended up sounding nervous 
and strained. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw 
Scully shake her head with amusement.

"If you need 'elp, just give a shout," Big Bird 
grinned at Scully.

Territorially, I took her elbow. "We will."

"We're going to browse a bit first," she threw back 
over her shoulder as I dragged her further into the 
store.

"Splendid," he replied with a knowing chuckle. I 
turned back to glare at him, then noticed the 
magazine he was holding.  I glanced at the title, 
'Dominance and Discipline', and then thought better 
of it.

We wondered down several aisles of toys of every 
shape and variety.  Dildos, vibrators, ben-wa balls, 
blindfolds, whips, paddles, riding crops, ankle and 
wrist cuffs, leather hoods, ball gags.  Jesus Christ.  
I felt ridiculously like some southern belle, ready 
to swoon at a moment's notice.  What did we get 
ourselves into?

We reached what I thought was the back of the store 
and I turned to double back. I started looking 
around, wondering where to start, when Scully said, 
"Let's go in here first."

I spun and followed her finger.  She was pointing to 
a door on the rear wall.  A small sign said, 
'Clothing & Furniture'.  I nodded, my mouth dry as a 
bone, and stepped up, holding the door for her.  She 
walked through slowly and I followed.  We were silent 
as we walked toward the racks.  There were signs 
hanging from the ceiling indicating Women's and Men's 
sections.  "Well, Mulder, why don't I hit the ladies' 
section and you hit the men's section?"

"Awww, you don't want to help me pick out my leather 
pants?" I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

She smiled softly.  "We'll check out each other's 
purchases before we make any final decisions.  How's 
that?"

"I've got a better idea.  I'll pick out yours and you 
pick out mine." I waggled my eyebrows.

She pressed her lips together and shook her head.  
"You're incorrigible.  I shudder to think what you'd 
pick out for me."

I grinned, totally unrepentant, and glad she was 
running along with my innuendo.  "Aww, come on, 
Scully.  It'll be fun."

With a perfectly straight face she said.  "Aren't you 
even a little nervous about what I'd pick out for 
you?"

That stopped me cold.  I stared at her.  Frankly, no, 
the idea hadn't even crossed my mind.  I was thinking 
only of see through tops with the nipples cut out and 
crotchless panties.  Now the indefinable look she 
gave me made me pause and stare at her harder.  
"Should I be?" I asked softly.

She flashed me another smile.  "You never know.  I 
might just surprise you."

I grinned now.  "I can't wait.  And Scully," I said, 
getting her attention again.

"Mmm, hmmm?"

"You've surprised me already."

She shook her head.  "It's gonna be a rough ride, 
then."

I laughed softly and then blew air out of pursed 
lips.  I couldn't believe how casual she was being 
about this.  "You like it rough, Scully?" I asked, 
immediately wishing I could take the words back.

Her eyebrow shot up into her hairline as she regarded 
me with undisguised amusement.  "You're pushing it, 
Mulder."

"Right," I said and saluted her.  "I'll just be over 
there," I said quietly, and pointed to men's section. 
"Picking out something tastefully smutty."

"I think that's best."

XXXXXXXXXX

I walked away, once again thinking, 'I will not think 
of Scully in leather ... oh fuck it, I can't help it.'  
I let the picture bloom in my mind; Scully in a black 
leather bra and a black leather thong.  Jesus.  It 
would look so good against her milky white skin.  Oh, 
no.  I felt my dick begin to tingle and harden.  
"Just get your clothes, Mulder," I muttered, ashamed 
of myself. She *had* said she wouldn't hold it 
against me, but somehow I couldn't help but think 
she'd kick my ass if she knew.

A half hour later, I was staring at a rack, of arm 
bands, that is, and wondering if I should get one.  
Maybe it'd help me look tougher. I nearly jumped out 
of my skin when I felt two small hands land on my 
waist.  I gasped and spun around.  "Jesus, Scully!"

She laughed, delighted that she had been able to 
sneak up on me.  "Jumpy, partner?" she quipped.

What the hell?  Now she was teasing me?  How did I 
lose control of this situation so fast?  Here I was 
thinking I was going to have to hold her hand in here 
and she was subtly taking the lead in everything we 
did.  She frowned at the leather pants I had slung 
over my arm.  "What?  You don't like them?" I asked, 
pouting.

"You'll look fantastic in them, but you should get 
some shorts too."

"What do you mean?"

"Leather shorts.  The long pants can get really hot 
and sticky."

I felt my heart rate involuntarily increase as I 
pictured Scully and I hot and sticky.  Damn, this was 
NOT going to be easy.  I felt myself flush, hardening 
to half erect and beginning to tent my slacks.  I 
turned from her slightly, trying to shield myself 
from her view.  "Yeah, good point."

She held up a pair.  "I took the liberty of picking 
these out while you were wandering."

I looked at the black leather shorts with the lace up 
fly she was holding up.  I reached out and extracted 
the tag from the back and asked, trying to sound 
casual, "How'd you know my size?"

She grinned.  "I've done your laundry before, 
Mulder," she reminded me.

"And you checked the tags?"

"Of course," she said like it was obvious.

"Why?" I asked.

"So if I ever wanted to buy you clothes, I'd know 
what size.  Why do you think?"

"Why would you buy me clothes?"

"Mulder, you're hopeless.  I usually remember *your* 
birthday, don't I?  Christmas also comes once a year, 
if I'm not mistaken."

I shrugged sheepishly.  "What'd you get?" I asked, 
changing the subject.  Frankly, I wasn't expecting 
anything daring.  She negligently waved her hand into 
the cart she'd found somewhere, and I set my own 
stuff in the front of it so I could pull up her 
purchases.  I felt my breath leave me in a sudden 
rush as I saw the black thong panties I'd envisioned 
less than an hour ago.  It went with a black leather 
bustier that laced up from the navel to mid-bra-cup 
and would show plenty of Scully skin through the 
laces.  Long, black leather calfskin gloves that 
would reach her elbows were included along with black 
fishnet stockings and a garter belt.  A pair of red 
leather shorts and a red leather bra was also in the 
bottom of the cart.

I swallowed noisily, feeling myself harden to fully 
erect as I easily pictured her in these clothes. 
Slowly, I lifted my head to meet her eyes.  She 
looked placid, waiting for my response.  Oh God.  I 
needed to resign myself to the fact that I was going 
to be doomed to walk around trying to hide a hard- on 
nearly 24 hours a day during all of this.  If she 
wasn't in front of me, I was going to be picturing 
her in these outfits.  "Christ, Scully, you're going 
to look so sexy and hot in these," I said in a shaky 
whisper, slightly alarmed at how raspy my voice was 
when I finally spoke.

She chuckled nervously, and avoided my comment.  "I 
see you got a leather vest too."

"Yeah," I muttered.

"It'll go with the shorts."  She looked at me shyly, 
her face turned downward.  "It'll show off your 
chest.  I'm sure it'll look, ummm, nice on you," she 
said softly, surprising me.

All right, confession time, here.  It shouldn't shock 
anyone that I've spent years fantasizing about my 
partner between the sheets.  However ... Jesus, it 
never once occurred to me that she had ever looked at 
me in a sexual way.  Seriously, it never crossed my 
mind that she might have looked at *my* body and 
liked what she saw.  She was giving herself away in a 
very subtle way, and I had no clue as to how to 
respond to it.

I *could've* said something stupid here and teased 
her about looking at my chest, but the words 
thankfully clogged in my throat and didn't want to 
come out.  Anyway, I didn't want to tease anymore.  I 
pulled my sport jacket closed and buttoned the front 
of it.  Despite the fact that I was sweating like a 
pig, it was the only way I could think of to try and 
hide my erection.

She winked at me. "On to the toys, Mulder," she said, 
her eyes twinkling. I wasn't fooling her one bit. 
Sometimes it really sucked to be a guy.

"Fuck me," I muttered.

I heard a delicate snort from her as she walked away, 
pushing the small cart.   We gathered up the clothes 
and brought them back into the front room.  When Big 
Bird saw us, he said, "You wanna to put that up 'ere 
while you gander some more?"

"Uh, yeah, that would be good."  We laid our clothes 
on the counter. He smiled again at Scully as he moved 
our stuff down away from the register so that other 
customers wouldn't have to reach over it if they came 
to the check out.

Without taking his eyes off Scully, he thrust a big 
shopping bag with handles into my arms.  "'Ere, use 
this, mate." I staggered back a slight step from the 
impact.  "We don't have carts up here," he said 
politely to her.

"Cool, thanks," I mumbled darkly and wandered into 
the aisles.

XXXXXXXXXX

Two things were at war inside me.  One was the 
sadistic little thrill I was getting from shocking 
Mulder.  He was so endearing and adorable when he was 
nervous, which wasn't very often.  I obviously wasn't 
playing the meek, confused role that he had cast for 
me, and judging from his behavior so far, he had no 
idea what to make of it.  He'd clearly expected me to 
be offended and it was throwing him off his game.  
Even his innuendo was weak.

I had an unfair advantage, I realized, but it still 
couldn't keep me from enjoying his reactions.  I bit 
my tongue after every sly reference or comment but I 
just couldn't help myself.  It takes quite a bit to 
actually rattle my partner, so I was taking an 
enormous amount of perverse pleasure out of watching 
his mouth drop.  I had to be careful, though.  Mulder 
is anything but stupid, and if I came across as *too* 
confident, he was going to figure out just how 
'informed' I was.

I could just see the headlines: "FBI Agent Drops Dead 
from Shock in D.C. Sex Shop!"

It bothered me, but I knew Mulder thought that I was 
a prude.  If I really examined it for very long, I'd 
never really given him cause to think otherwise. In 
fact, I'd say I'd gone out of my way to reinforce 
this belief for him, maybe in some unconscious effort 
on my part to keep him from the truth.  It just never 
occurred to me that I was doing such a good job 
appearing adequately offended by his pornography and 
immune to his innuendo that he'd start to see me as 
sexually repressed.

It made perfect, if not somewhat sad, sense that I 
felt as though I had to sacrifice being perceived in 
a sexual manner in order to gain Mulder's respect. I 
tried telling myself that it was necessary, and for a 
long while, I think I succeeded in convincing myself 
that it was a fair trade.

It ended up causing an unforeseen undercurrent 
between us, though.  We were uncomfortable around 
each other in regard to all things sexual.  Mulder 
hid his discomfort behind adolescent innuendo, while 
I refused to acknowledge it, and shut down completely 
anytime we came remotely close to addressing the 
tension between us.

Looking back, I suppose I did the only logical thing 
I could in order to enable myself to work side by 
side with Mulder.  I didn't want to accept it, but my 
partner was the only man that even remotely 
interested me.  I just told myself continuously that 
he wasn't interested in me *that way* and that I 
wasn't his type.  I put all things sexual on the back 
burner; I disconnected from that side of myself. Not 
because I wasn't, to put it delicately, horny.  I was 
at my sexual peak, for crying out loud.  I just 
decided to concentrate on my career, or at least 
that's what I tried to tell myself.

For the most part, it *did* work.  Other than the 
illicit indulgence of the occasional masturbatory 
fantasy that always starred my partner, I gave up 
that part of myself.  I applauded my resolve and 
marveled at my will power, but there's only so long a 
kettle can stay on slow burn before the water 
eventually comes to a boil.  I'd been suppressing my 
needs for a ridiculous amount of time, and I had the 
very uneasy suspicion that they were about to 
reassert themselves with a vengeance.

Despite everything, just being around so much 
paraphernalia was affecting me.  My appetite was 
being whetted for the first time in a long time and I 
was feeling the urges of the past screaming to break 
free.  One side of me wanted to grab hold of what I 
referred to as 'the Old Dana'.  The other side was 
screaming loudly that my career could be on the line.

I mean, it was just my luck that the only person I 
could imagine myself exercising these desires with 
was Mulder.  Not only was he my partner, he was also 
such a 'dominant' presence in my life.  Past 
experience told me that there was no way I could be 
submissive in a sexual relationship.  My drive for 
control was too strong.  I trusted Mulder enough to 
be submissive, but my logic told me that the first 
sign of dominance from him would either unlock my 
own, or melt me into a puddle of goo.

I wondered how well he would take to being dominated.

My mind was getting ahead of me here and already 
wandering into dangerous territory.  Breaking the 
unspoken rule and plunging into a physical 
relationship with my partner could spell certain 
disaster for us in more ways than one.

My God, the look of pure lust that crossed his face 
when he spied the leather thong and stockings in the 
cart was, well, inspiring, to say the least.  I 
knew, without a doubt, that he was picturing me in 
them.  If the truth be told, I couldn't wait to see 
just what his reaction would be to me in full 
regalia.  This was just the underpinning.  There were 
more things I wanted to add for effect.

There were more things I wanted, period, but would we 
actually need any of it?  We would be behind closed 
doors for most of this assignment or observing 
others.  It was going to almost be like dressing up 
for Halloween.  I sighed under my breath and followed 
him to where he was standing looking at a wall of 
whips and paddles.

"Any preferences?" he asked, the leer on his face not 
quite reaching his eyes.

I smiled uncomfortably at him.  "No, I think I'll let 
you handle this part."

"O.K., we have to have a duffle bag of toys, Scully, 
or they'll see us for frauds," he said, obviously 
embarrassed.

"I know," I snapped, and watched as Mulder flinched.

"Scully," he began, his voice soft. "I know this is 
making you uncomfortable.  I don't mean to imply that 
you don't know about any of this."

I had the overwhelming urge to tell him he was really 
far off base.  I *was* uncomfortable, but not because 
I was offended.  I was aroused!  Everywhere I looked 
I saw something I wanted to use with him.  It was 
suddenly too much to handle.  I took a few steps away 
from him.  I needed some space between us if I had 
any hope of getting through the next ten or so 
minutes.  "How about this one?" I said in a light 
tone.  I took a short, black riding crop off the peg 
on the wall and held it up to him.

"It matches the outfits," he deadpanned, then smiled, 
accepting my evasion as a truce.

"Of course, it's always best to accessorize in a 
complementing manner," I grinned back.

He reached out and selected a fur mitt.  "Fashion 
faux-pas though it may be, we gotta have this."  He 
tossed it into the bag and turned back to me, his 
brows raised with an obvious challenge in his eye.

I stepped around him.  "I'll need this for when you 
step out of line," I said, grabbing a rubber-covered 
paddle.

"Woof, woof," he smirked, taking a small dog collar 
that came with a silver link leash with a leather 
grip on the end, and throwing it into the bag.

"Good choice, but I think you need a muzzle."  I 
followed him as he selected a ball gag and a 
blindfold. He held them up, the corner of his mouth 
twitching. "Yeah, that'll do."

We continued down the aisle in a much easier silence, 
when my eyes were captured suddenly by a strap-on of 
considerable size.  I felt myself grow warm and moist 
imagining putting it on over the leather outfit I'd 
selected.  Best not to go there, I chastised myself. 
I dragged my eyes away to find Mulder staring at me 
with an odd look on his face.

A sudden spark of tension ignited between us.  "I 
like it, too," he said softly after a moment.

Oh my God. Oh. My. God.

He cleared his throat, and turned from me, trying to 
hide his obvious state of arousal.  He held the bag 
open and in front of himself as he turned back and 
said, "Did I miss anything?"  The dare was evident. 
He wasn't sure why, but he knew the sight of the 
strap-on had affected me, and he was giving me the 
opportunity to admit it.

Just agree, Dana, I told myself.  Just put it in the 
bag.  I couldn't.  I looked away from him. "No, we 
probably have enough."

"Are you sure?" I was startled by the gravelly 
quality of his voice and felt an internal shiver that 
I just barely suppressed from being visible.  I 
licked my suddenly dry lips and heard a tiny gasp.  I 
met his eyes again and found them locked on my mouth.  
Without permission from my brain, I licked my lips 
again, slowly, dropping my eyes.

"We'd better get out of here," he whispered in a 
ragged voice and then whisked by me, headed for the 
counter.

"Damn," I muttered under my breath.  This was going 
to be hard.  I honestly didn't know how long I could 
keep up this act.  I was walking a very thin tight 
rope.  One misstep and I could plunge off. I knew 
there would be no safety net waiting to catch me this 
time.

If we were this affected by each other just shopping 
for toys, what was it going to be like in an 
atmosphere that reeked of pheromones and sexuality?  
Good lord, I was in trouble.

XXXXXXXXXX

JesusHChristonaCrutch!  I worked hard at getting my 
breathing under control as I checked out our 
purchases, handing over the credit card that Senator 
Matheson had given me to Big Bird after he quoted 
some ridiculously high amount to me.

I could feel Scully standing behind me.  Scully. 
Scully, with her damned wet, licked lips!

My hand shook as I signed the receipt, and because 
most of my blood flow had headed south, I started to 
sign my real name before I heard Scully clear her 
throat.  Somehow, I managed to scrawl "George" over 
"Fox M-", and then practically threw the pen down as 
I grabbed our packages.  I couldn't get out of there 
fast enough. I mumbled a thank you and turned on my 
heel heading for the door.  I hadn't even glanced to 
see if she was following.  I needed air and I needed 
it quick.

I got to the sidewalk and sucked in a refreshing 
lungful of cool air, feeling my hard-on begin to 
deflate, but not nearly enough for my satisfaction.  
'Hold it against me, Scully, please!' I thought.  
Literally.  I unbuttoned my suit jacket and loosened 
my tie, ripping it off as I walked to the car, the 
bags in my left hand.  I stuffed the tie into my suit 
jacket and then unbuttoned the top three buttons on 
my dress shirt.  

Christ, I felt like I was drowning.  I grabbed my 
keys from my pocket and unlocked the car, throwing 
the bags in the back seat.  I ripped off my jacket 
and tossed that in on top of them.  Then, I got in 
and slammed the door.  I turned the ignition and put 
the air conditioning on full blast.  I sighed in 
relief, and closed my eyes. It took me a full two 
minutes to realize that Scully had not followed me 
out.  What the fuck?

I was about to get out and look for her, sure she was 
pissed that I had abandoned her in the store, when 
she emerged from the front door.  She looked calm, 
cool and collected, damn her, and she was carrying 
another bag!  I just couldn't look at her right now.  
Fuck, I was so embarrassed. I put my head back on the 
backrest and closed my eyes again, waiting to hear 
her open the door.

She did and slid into the seat.  I heard the seatbelt 
clicking into place and then her fumbling with the 
air vents to direct the blast away from her face.  I 
swallowed noisily and croaked, "Sorry."

"It's all right."

"You bought something else?" I asked, unable to 
suppress my curiosity.

"Yeah, don't worry about it.  I'll show you later."

"Afraid of what I'll do?" I asked, trying to sound 
facetious, but hearing it fall flat.

She mumbled, "No, afraid of what I'll do."

"Come again?"

There was a pause and she said.  "Just take me home, 
Mulder."

"Aye, aye, Captain," I responded, sounding harsher 
than I meant to.  I glanced at her and saw her scowl 
as I started the car.

"Mulder," she began but then stopped.

I sighed.  "I'm sorry, Scully.  I'm a little 
embarrassed.  I didn't mean to snap at you."

"It's all right."

"Not really.  I am sorry."

I jumped involuntarily when I felt her hand land on 
my shirt sleeve and looked at her.  "I didn't mean to 
make you uncomfortable, Mulder, and for that, I'm 
sorry.  I guess I'm just a little surprised." She 
looked away to stare out the window.

"Surprised at what?  That I got excited?" I asked, 
heat rising to my cheeks.

"No, not that.  I mean, hey, you did warn me."  She 
was trying to put me at ease, but I still felt like a 
fucking idiot.

"Scully, listen," I began.

She turned to me again.  "So was it just the toys, 
or, ummm, the 'added element of my presence'?"

"Both," I nearly croaked.

She nodded.  "Damn, this is getting uncomfortable, 
huh?"  She put her elbow on the windowsill and curled 
her hand under her chin.

"A bit, yeah.  I don't want it to be that way, 
Scully, but I can't help it."

"I don't blame you, Mulder.  It doesn't offend me."

"It doesn't?"

"No, why would it?"

"It doesn't bother you that your partner became 
aroused just by watching you lick your lips?" I 
blurted out in disbelief, before realizing I'd just 
given away more than I meant to.

Her eyes snapped back to meet mine and her mouth 
opened.  Then closed again.  "I didn't think I was 
your type," she said softly.

I barked out a short huff of laughter that was laced 
heavily with incredulity.  "Please don't play dumb 
with me, Scully."

She looked truly puzzled and I realized that she 
really didn't know. She thought I was merely a man, 
and like most men, I was one big hormone when 
surrounded by anything sexual.  It wasn't the truth. 
SHE was what made me insane.  I'd watched so much 
porn that honestly, it didn't do a lot for me 
anymore. Closing my eyes and picturing Scully doing a 
lap dance on my cock ... now that was another story.  I 
could explode from the image without even touching 
myself.

"I'm not playing dumb!" she said loudly.  "What are 
you talking about?"

I stared at her a minute longer and finally decided 
to play it on the safe side of the ledger.  "You're a 
beautiful woman, Scully.  I've always thought you 
were beautiful and sexy."  I looked at the seat.  
"Every time I looked at something in there, I could 
picture us ... using it."

Her hand lifted and her fingers touched my chin, 
raising my face to hers and staring into my eyes.  I 
didn't throw down the mask.  I let my attraction for 
her show, my eyes having a mind of their own and 
traveling over her face, her plump lips and the 
fluttering of her pulse in her neck.  Was she 
excited? I wondered.  I felt arousal wash through me 
again and shivered visibly under her gaze.

She dropped her hand and said, "Thank you.  You 
better take me home now."

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, putting the car in gear, 
and pulling out onto the street, wondering just how 
tense this whole situation was going to get.  One 
thing I knew.  This was going to get much worse 
before it got better.

XXXXXXXXXX
PART FIVE (NC-17) 
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
THREE HOURS LATER

I could only wonder if I'd left a trail of smoke 
behind me.

By the time I'd bolted out of the car, flatly 
refusing Mulder's offer to begin our 'research' 
together over a pizza, my legs were so weak I could 
barely walk. The drive had taken a serious toll on me 
emotionally.  I went from flattered to mortified in 
the space of a heartbeat.  Each second that ticked by 
as we made our way to my apartment only seemed to add 
more fuel my sudden state of confusion. Had I just 
essentially asked Mulder if I turned him on? Had he 
really just answered, in no uncertain terms, that 
yes, I did?

He thought I was beautiful? Sexy?!

Even three hours later, I couldn't seem to wrap my 
brain around that.  I felt my stomach take a fast 
dive, and flushed from head to toe.  Technically, I 
thought, this downtime away from him was only 
prolonging my misery.  Having the rest of the evening 
to agonize alone over the whole thing wasn't going to 
help my disposition any when I had to face him again 
tomorrow.  Maybe I wanted to give myself some time to 
think, to plan, to panic within controlled 
parameters.  After all, it's always best, if you 
intend to wig out, to do so in the privacy of your 
own home.
 
OK, I was definitely wigging out.

My hand shook as I brought the steaming cup of tea to 
my lips.  No matter what way I chose to approach it, 
I was up the proverbial Shit Creek without a paddle. 
Or maybe, I'd be the one holding the paddle if I 
played my cards right.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no.  I slumped forward in my chair, 
my head hitting the kitchen table with a definite 
thud.

The last thing I needed was to start confusing my 
purpose in all of this.  Though I would've been hard 
pressed to admit it at the time, Matheson actually 
did the right thing by requesting we take the case. I 
didn't want to openly acknowledge his justification, 
because I knew if I did, at some point, our past 
would come into play, so to speak.

Some things in life just seem to go together.

Chocolate and peanut butter.

Donny and Marie.

Senators and sex scandals.

There are risks to take, and ones not to.  Actually, 
there are risks not to take even if you see them as 
water and your ass is on fire.  I wasn't about to 
enlighten Mulder about Matheson's motives, despite 
the fact that being honest with him from the start 
would have been the smart thing to do.  I was not 
nearly ready for that conversation.  What would I 
say?

Loss of my well-guarded reputation had a way of 
overshadowing any shred of common sense I may have 
had. What I should've realized was that keeping 
secrets often creates its own covert flux in any 
relationship.  Mulder and I needed nothing else to 
burrow its way into our already complex bond.  What 
happened today told me we had enough to contend with.  
This could blow that bond to smithereens in a 
heartbeat.  There were some things I simply wasn't 
prepared to sacrifice for the sake of my job, or even 
solving a murder case.

Our little shopping spree had unearthed some very 
dangerous territory, and by the time I'd managed to 
open my front door and dump my bags in the living 
room, panic over the entire situation really started 
to pump through me.  Since then, I'd been going 
through the motions of trying to relax, but I had the 
sinking feeling no amount of chamomile tea, steady 
breathing, and self-talk was going to settle my 
nerves.

How could I have been so stupid?  Walking around in 
that place like I knew *exactly* what I was doing! 
Then, actually staying behind to buy more!  With 
Mulder right outside!  It was like something took 
over me.  It was like I was somehow outside of 
myself, watching in horror as this woman flirted 
shamelessly with my partner and picked out leather 
bondage apparel with a keen eye for accuracy.  How 
could he have not noticed my behavior?  For God's 
sake, I practically climaxed at the sight of a strap-
on!

My eyes flickered over to the bags on the couch, and 
I felt warmth tingle through me.  Oh God, I was in 
trouble.

In a flash of insight, I knew at that moment what a 
recovering addict must feel when confronted with the 
presence of a drug almost within arm's reach.  The 
mental compulsion was overwhelming.  The packages I'd 
discarded so hastily just a short time ago suddenly 
beckoned to me with a lure so strong, my fingers 
actually itched to touch their contents.

How was I going to get through this assignment?  How 
was I going to respond to actually *wearing* the 
outfits?  To the feel of them? The smell?  The 
texture?   I could handle this environment just fine. 
The problem was ... could Mulder?

Did I really intend to *show* him what I'd bought?  
In the hopes of causing what, exactly?

No. No!

It wasn't who I was anymore!  Was it?  I'd managed to 
gain control in other areas of my life, I didn't 
*need* to exercise it sexually anymore.  I was 
stronger now.  I was older, wiser.  I could recognize 
what drove me for what it was and move past it. 
Couldn't I?

God, I was so confused.  Beyond that, however, I felt 
completely unprepared for what I needed to do.  I 
felt completely *out* of control, and I couldn't 
stand it!  It wasn't just my own possible reactions 
that were scaring me.  I could seize control again, 
but then what?  What about Mulder?  How would he 
react to me if I slipped up?  How would he react to 
me even if I didn't?  Could I do this and NOT take 
the reins?

Which brought me right back to ...

He thought I was beautiful!?  He thought I was SEXY!?  
He was clueless!  Utterly and thoroughly CLUELESS!

I couldn't do this!  I couldn't!

I stood up in anger, and began to pace.  Damn 
Matheson!  Damn him!  Right or not, I wished he were 
in front of me so I could punch him!  He had to have 
known what this was going to do to me!  All these 
personal issues could end up seriously damaging the 
investigation.  Or seriously damaging my relationship 
with Mulder.  Or both.  He was willing to sacrifice 
my relationship with Mulder.  I wasn't, damn it.  
What right did he have to put me in such a 
compromising position, anyway?  Maybe my 'history' 
wasn't the asset to this case he thought it was.  
Maybe I was going to blow it big time. 

Damn it, how had I managed to suddenly end up at my 
couch, with the bag in my hand?

I froze in place.

All right, enough was enough. I just had to get it 
over with. Ignoring my feelings for so long had done 
too much damage already, and I wasn't just thinking 
of today's little display.  I had to confront what 
was going on inside of me before it was too late.

It's all about damage control, I told myself.  If I 
could manage to get a grip, nothing that had happened 
so far was *too* out of the ordinary.  My partner 
would simply realize I was a normal sexual creature 
with needs, which he probably suspected anyway.  
Yeah, right. Mulder had no idea. But maybe if I 
approached this case head-on tomorrow and behaved in 
my predictable 'Scully' manner, then he might just 
write today off as some weird hormonal thing and 
forget about it.

I sat down on the couch, the bag in my lap, and 
sighed.  The first step, as they often said, was to 
admit there's a problem.  O.K., that was easy.  I 
*knew* I had a problem.  Now, *why* I was having that 
problem, that's where it got a little sticky.  To 
figure that out, I had to acknowledge the fact that I 
was still very tempted by the past.  It wasn't just 
about control or power.  It was more than that.  It 
had made me feel alive and at peace in ways I 
couldn't explain.

I missed that.  Needless to say, there wasn't a lot 
of peace in my life these days.  There was nothing to 
balance the stress of the job.

There were empty places inside of me, and deep down I 
knew why they were there.  I knew what I needed yet 
refused to allow myself to have it.  How sick was 
that?

Nonetheless, wasn't my life fulfilling enough now on 
its own merit?  Wasn't I satisfied with the choices 
I'd made?

Yes.

It was.  I was.

Maybe I was a little lonely, but I chose to live that 
way.  I didn't *need* anyone.  I didn't *want* 
anyone.  I wasn't perfectly content with everything, 
no, but who is 'perfectly content' with their lives, 
anyway?  It was really a small price to pay for the 
freedom I had within my own life.  I hadn't 
jeopardized that balance for a very long time.  It 
would've been stupid of me to do so now just because 
I was a little taken aback by my responses to the 
case.

The truth was, I would never return to the lifestyle 
without a partner.  So if I followed that natural 
progression of thought, I came to the logical 
conclusion that, although it still appealed to me, it 
wasn't something I was willing to get back into.  Not 
alone.

Yeah.  Maybe I was just feeling nostalgic.  It might 
have been nothing more than that.

O.K., I felt better, I really did.

I placed the bag beside me.

I'd been taken off-guard.  That was all.  All I had 
to do was get the residual feelings out of my system 
and go into this with my eyes open.  Preparation.  
*That* was the key to it.  I had to *prepare* myself 
better.  I began to relax for the first time since 
entering Matheson's office.  I started to think that 
everything would be O.K.

I'd overlooked one tiny little detail, though.  I 
*wasn't* 'reentering' the lifestyle.  I would merely 
be pretending to do so.  Big difference.  Either way, 
I wasn't going into it without a partner.  I had one. 
This was one part of the equation that was about to 
blow my reasoning all to hell.  Something, I've 
noticed, Mulder seemed to excel at.

Mulder made most logic a moot point.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

I sat in what felt like a semi-catatonic state for 
close to an hour, my mind carefully rationalizing. 
I'd almost convinced myself I'd made a big fuss over 
nothing when the sound of the phone ringing suddenly 
broke through my thoughts, making me jump.  I picked 
up the receiver and hadn't yet managed to say a word, 
when Mulder's voice filled my ear.  "Alright, I can't 
stand it, what did you buy?"

"Well, hello to you too, Mulder."

"I'm serious, Scully.  You know what I'm like when I 
start obsessing.  Tell me."

I laughed out loud into the phone, already enjoying 
this call immensely.  "I can't believe you," I said 
settling into the cushions on the couch.  I swung my 
legs up, letting them rest on the bag in question.

"Scully, come on.  Don't ... just, tell me."  It was a 
hoarse whisper by the time he finished, and I felt my 
smile fade instantly.  It was a quality in his voice 
he rarely let me hear and with good reason.

"Mulder," I breathed.

"Tell me," he said, harsher.

I closed my eyes tight against the excitement that 
washed over me.  Stunned, I realized that I *wanted* 
to tell him.  I really did.  The rough sound of his 
voice had managed in just a few seconds to melt the 
resolve I'd spent the better part of an hour 
building.  What the hell was wrong with me?  I was 
torn.  "I can't."  It sounded meek, even to me, and I 
hated myself for being so afraid.

"Was it a ... a ... Jesus, Scully."  He cleared his 
throat roughly.

Wait a second.  I was starting to get the picture.  
He'd been "researching".  The information *aroused* 
him!  Had he come across something in particular?  I 
felt my confidence flow back.  "You've been a busy, 
busy bee this evening, haven't you partner?" I teased 
in a soft voice.  "Been surfing the web, maybe?"

"You're changing the subject," he said pointedly.

"Am I?" I mocked slightly.  "I'm not so sure."

Parry.  "You're sounding awfully cocky all of a 
sudden."

Thrust.  "Interesting choice of words there, Mulder, 
considering what's in the bag at my feet."

A soft grunt met my ear.  "Are you saying you bought 
what I think you did?"

"I bought several items, Mulder," I replied coyly.

The breath rushed out of him, my tone making him 
nervous.  "We shouldn't be having this conversation," 
he said quickly.  "I'm sorry. I had no right to ask, 
it's none of my business."

I'm sure I surprised him when I laughed again.  "I do 
own a few vibrators, Mulder.  I know it's hard for 
you to grasp, but even I masturbate now and again."

I heard an audible gulp, and couldn't help but wonder 
if he was fighting to keep the picture of me 
masturbating out of his head.  On the other hand, 
maybe he was just processing the fact that I'd just 
admitted that I owned a *few* vibrators, not just 
one.  Oh, Christ.  I shivered involuntarily and 
muttered, "I can't believe I just told you that."

His breath whistled through the receiver.  "Jesus, 
thanks for that visual, Scully."

I chuckled again.  "Sorry."

"No, I mean, really, *thanks* for that visual," he 
responded, a definite tremor in his voice. 

"Look, Mulder, even women have needs," I said 
quietly, and then I'm sure I heard the distinct sound 
of his jaw dropping.  I often wondered if he even 
believed I *had* sexual needs, much less contemplated 
whether or not I owned a vibrator.  I was fairly 
certain he NEVER entertained the idea that at some 
point, I would have had to BUY that vibrator or that 
he'd be in the general vicinity when it was 
purchased.  "What?" I asked, when I finally realized 
he'd been silent way too long.

"I know you have needs, Scully.  I guess I never 
imagined us talking like this," he said softly.  
"It's hard," he said, cutting himself off, surely 
realizing the potential for a double meaning.

"Well, you said we might learn more about each other 
than we were ever meant to.  Looks like you were 
right."

"You think I don't understand, don't you?" he blurted 
out suddenly. "You think I don't realize that you 
have needs, and that if you weren't out chasing Big 
Foot and Little Green Men with me, then maybe you'd 
be having normal relationships with normal men and 
getting those needs met."

"What?" I asked, more than a little shocked.  "How 
did you come to a conclusion like that just from the 
verification that I bought a vibrator?"

"Jesus, Scully!"

"What, are you offended by that?"

"Well, no.  No, of course I'm not," he stammered 
quickly.

"You *wanted* to know, Mulder.  Isn't that why you 
called?" I said, calling his earlier bluff.

"Well, yeah.  I mean, no!  Fuck, Scully, I didn't 
think you were actually going to *tell* me!"

"Ah.  I see.  You were expecting the standard 
indulgent silence followed by complete evasion of the 
question and the inevitable bemused 'Good night, 
Mulder'?"

He chuckled nervously, obviously uncertain.  "Yeah.  
Yes.  That's *exactly* what I was expecting.  I mean, 
you know, the standard Scully reply when I call you 
late at night."

"You said we needed to talk more and be honest."

"I know, but it's a shock we're actually trying to do 
it.  Usually when I call, I at least attempt to 
pretend it isn't because I just need to hear your 
voice and I'm lonely."

Silence.

"Oh, Mulder," I replied softly.

"Men have needs too, Scully," he said, almost shyly.  
"Well, at least I know that *this* man does, and I 
guess I'm a bastard for the fact that I've been 
letting you meet some of them for a while now without 
your consent or knowledge."

"That doesn't make you a bastard, Mulder.  It makes 
you human.  Everyone gets lonely."

"Do you?" he challenged.

I was quiet for a moment, wondering how far we were 
going to take this conversation.  I had no doubt 
whatsoever that I'd probably regret every word that 
had left my mouth so far, so what would a few more 
hurt?  "Of course I do."

"Scully," he whispered, his voice shaking.

"Maybe I look forward to those calls," I confessed 
softly.

"I'm sorry."

"Why?"

I heard him take a deep breath.  "I'm sorry that's 
what you have to look forward to.  I want more for 
you.  You deserve more."

"Mulder, I've never asked for more.  I'm happy with 
my life," I said, hoping to convince him.  Why did he 
feel so responsible for me?

"You'd be so much better off with," he said, starting 
his old mantra.

"Don't!  Stop it right now.  I didn't answer my phone 
to participate in a late night pity party.  I am 
exactly where I want to be.  If you choose to doubt 
yourself, there's not a whole lot I can do about 
that, but don't doubt me or the fact that I was given 
choices, and *this* is what I want."

"You don't want more?" he asked in a small voice.  
"You've never wanted more from me?"

"Mulder, what are you asking?"

"I ..." He took a shaky breath.  "I don't know what I'm 
asking.  Jesus, Scully.  I can't believe I called you 
this late and dumped this shit on you."

"Mulder."

"I'm sorry."  He was backpedaling now.  The 
conversation was starting to scare him, and he was 
panicking.

I sighed.  "It's ok, Mulder.  Just listen, don't 
worry about it, O.K.?  We should get some rest.  We 
have a lot to do in the morning."

"Yeah."

"Try and get some sleep."

"Right, that's likely."

I chuckled in spite of myself.  I sensed he wanted to 
ask something else but was afraid.  "What is it, 
Mulder?"

"I ... it ..."

Uh-oh. This was something big. I clutched the phone 
tighter and braced myself. "Go ahead."

"It doesn't bother you that I think about you when I 
..." he trailed off in a rush. I could almost hear his 
heart thudding through the receiver.

I took a deep breath, knowing I couldn't lie to him.  
I never could. Not when he asked me a direct 
question.  I could've played coy and pretended I 
didn't understand what he was asking, but he took a 
huge risk and I owed him more than that.  He was, 
essentially, asking my permission. "No," I breathed 
softly.  "No, it doesn't bother me.  I'm flattered, 
actually."

"I'm glad," I heard him sigh on the other end of the 
phone.

"Anything else I can answer?" I asked carefully.  I 
knew exactly what I was setting myself up for, but 
his honesty had touched me deeply, and I didn't want 
him to feel alone out there on a limb.

He was silent a moment and then said, "I have no 
right to ask."

"Ask," I encouraged, my pulse pounding in my ears.

"Do you ever ... I mean, when you're alone, do you ever 
think of ..."

"Think of what?"

Another beat and then he asked softly, "Me?"  Then he 
blurted, "Do you ever think of me, Scully?"

I felt all the air leave the room and my chest 
constrict.   My carefully constructed walls were 
crumpling at an alarming rate and I felt the need to 
keep some of them in place, or I might start 
screaming and never stop.

In spite of that, I'd allowed him to ask.  He 
deserved the truth.  "Yes," I admitted quietly.  "All 
the time, Mulder."

"Oh, God," he whispered.

I smiled and hung up the handset in the cradle 
without saying goodbye.  Then I was seized with a 
minor anxiety attack.  I swallowed hard.  Things were 
changing between us. Rapidly.  I didn't know whether 
to be exhilarated or afraid.

Things between us felt so different.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I lay in bed, my mind swimming in thought.  I was 
tired.  The emotional roller coaster I'd been on all 
day was finally catching up to me.  My brain wouldn't 
shut off, and my body was still so keyed up. Our 
phone conversation played over and over again in my 
head, and despite the echoing sound of warning bells 
in the distance, I allowed myself to really bask in 
the words he'd said to me.

He wanted more for me?  Why?  He hadn't come right 
out and said it, but by asking me, did he mean that 
he *did* want more?  Did he mean *he* wanted to give 
me more, or just that he felt guilty because he 
thought it was his fault I didn't have more?

What exactly did 'more' mean, anyway?

Did it mean what I thought it did? Oh, God.

I felt warm all over and peeled the covers back to 
expose my bare skin to the cool air.  I wondered what 
he was doing, and blushed furiously at the sudden 
visual that appeared vividly in my head. Worse yet, I 
could only hope that he was thinking about me while 
he did it.  I felt my nipples grow tight. For the 
first time ever, I was sure that if he was touching 
himself, it was me he was thinking of. Me.

God, what was happening between us?  Why now, when 
there was so much outside influence to deal with.  I 
couldn't let myself admit to my feelings for Mulder.  
It was too dangerous.  Plus, doing it just as I was 
about to face something that left me sexually 
starving was foolish and irresponsible.  I had to be 
stronger than that.  I mean, God, what if it scared 
him?  What if *I* scared him?

However, what if it didn't?

Oh God, what if he'd love that part of me?  What if 
I'd finally found someone to share it with?

Go with it, Dana, my body purred.  I didn't *want* to 
do this, yet I knew I was powerless to stop myself.  
I needed it.

I reached out for the bag lying at the foot of the 
bed.  I had carried it into the bedroom with me.  I 
told myself it was because I wanted to get a good, up 
close perusal in, but never once believed that was my 
real motivation.  I wanted to touch *IT*.  There was 
no use in trying to pretend otherwise.

I pulled it out of the bag, fingers almost numb.  My 
hand caressed the long, smooth surface, coming to 
rest at its end.  It was perfect. Maybe a little 
large for someone that was new to the experience, but 
workable if I was patient.

I wondered if he'd trust me enough.

I shook my head hard against the thought, trying to 
dispel the image that it evoked.  This was crazy. 
This was nuts.  This was torture, pure and simple.  I 
couldn't do this to myself.

Jesus, I was already lost and it had been so God damn 
long since I'd had these feelings, and even longer 
since I'd acted on them.  Yes, I fantasized about 
Mulder, but never in this context.  It was too 
overpowering.  Too consuming.  This was a side of me 
I vowed he'd never know existed, even in my mind I 
had to keep them separate.

Now, though, I was weak.  Tame, generic fantasies 
weren't going to cut it.  I wanted him, and here in 
the dark, I could admit just this once *how* I wanted 
him.  Not just his body in my bed, I wanted to own 
his soul.

Mulder was *ripe* for it, had been since I'd met him.  
His passion was matched only by his capacity for 
guilt.  More than anything, he wanted to repent.  To 
feel that he was ... not punished, but given what he 
deserved.  Not in a religious context, but a moral 
one.  He needed to feel like he'd paid some price for 
his imagined faults and wrong doings, paid back the 
relationship in some way.  He needed it and he would 
worship the one to finally give him what he felt he 
deserved.  A way to pay back.

Oh, God.

He would live it completely.  He'd never be able to 
go half way, it wasn't who he was.  He wouldn't just 
love the one who gave him such a long anticipated 
outlet, he would be *grateful* to her, utterly loyal 
and desperate to please.  My perfect counterpart.  He 
always had been.  Why would this be any different?

The thought made me tremble, made my thighs twitch 
and my skin burn.

I let my fingers slide down and off the new toy. 
Carefully, I placed it to the side of the bed.  I had 
no intension of using it on myself. I'd bought it 
with a specific purpose in mind, and just the thought 
alone was going to be more than enough.  I didn't 
need penetration, anyway.  All I wanted was 
*stimulation*, and I knew exactly what it would take.

Blindly, I reached for the drawer in my bedside table 
and opened it.  My breathing increased.  When my 
questing fingers found what they were searching for, 
my breath turned ragged.

I wasn't kidding when I told Mulder I owned a *few* 
vibrators. Four actually.  This one was my favorite.  
An almost elegant slim line massager with a contoured 
head and a circle of nubs for perfect clitoral 
stimulation and very shallow insertion.

XXXXXXXXXXXX NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXXXXX

My knees fell apart immediately, my body heavily 
anticipating the first electric jolt that shocked 
through it as I brought the tip to my responsive 
clit.  My hips bucked forward at once and my other 
hand slid slowly to my breast.  I touched one 
fingertip to the sensitized tip of my nipple then 
raked my nails across it.  I felt wetness flood 
between my legs.  God, I was already so hot, so wet.

I found a nice, steady rhythm, not wanting to rush 
through it, and then, let my mind go.

What would he do, what would he *really* do, if I 
confronted him with my theory?

No, no wait.  What would I *want* him to do?  This 
once, I was going to let the fantasy come.

I closed my eyes, images already blooming in my mind, 
unlikely scenarios that suddenly seemed very 
*plausible* to me in my heightened state.

He would tell me I was the only person who truly knew 
him.  That I was the only one that had ever 
understood what he needed.  I'd hiss an agreement in 
his ear and praise him for his insight.  Then, oh 
God, then I'd give it to him.  Everything.  All the 
things he desired and feared.  A way to atone for his 
imagined sins, and so much more.

Maybe I'd go easy on him at first.  He would be 
almost shy as he obeyed me.  I would look him in 
the eyes, letting him see the love in my own for once 
and not hiding it.  Not hiding anything.  I would run 
my fingers lightly over the muscles of his shoulders 
and across his crisp chest hair.  I would let him 
feel the reverence in my touch so he'd know that no 
matter what, he was safe.  I'd keep him safe.

He would worship me even as I took control of him.

Smoothly racing along with the motion of my hand, my 
mind sped up, running with images of paddles and firm 
pink cheeks; his head tossing from side to side, the 
blindfold secure, the ball-gag constricting harsh, 
desperate moans; straining, red flesh trapped in soft 
but tight restraints.

Oh, God.  The sensations were so intense that I could 
barely stand it.  My thrusting hips sped up, the 
buzzing movement against my clit throwing me into a 
steamy vortex of pleasure.

Close.  Close.  Yeah.  Please.

I could feel the coil, the tightness that started in 
my thighs and radiated deep into my belly; like a 
rubber band being stretched farther and farther 
apart.  Liquid heat blazed through me, the vibrations 
insistent and unforgiving against me.  My other hand 
took hold of my jutting nipple and pinched hard.  I 
exploded, coming in pulse after pulse of fierce, 
clutching spasms.

XXXXXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXXXX

My body went limp.  I sank deep into the softness of 
the mattress, feeling my limbs grow heavy and sated 
almost at once.  At some point, I switched off the 
vibrator and let it slip from my grasp.  My blood 
actually felt like it was humming on its own.  God, 
it felt so good.  Why did I deny myself this?

The sweat on my body had started to cool and my 
breathing was under marginal control, when his face 
floated back behind my closed lids.

Mulder.  Mulder.  Mulder.

I wanted to show him how I used to be, what I was 
capable of before I allowed my own insecurities and 
fears to rule over my passions.  I wanted him to feel 
cherished and loved more completely than he ever 
thought possible.

Instinctively, I knew I could give that to him if he 
would allow it. I wanted to take him to places so 
deep down inside of pleasure, he'd wonder if he could 
breathe without me touching him.

I did want more.

I wanted him to see me as the woman I once was, the 
woman I could be again.  For him.

Oh my God, *for him*.  I wanted him to know me.  To 
*really* know me.

Didn't I?

XXXXXXXXXX
PART 6 (NC-17) 
FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT 
42 HEGAL PLACE 
ALEXANDRIA, VA 
TUESDAY EVENING

Tuesday passed in a blur. I stayed at home and buried 
myself in research. Scully went into work and 
completed all the paperwork for Skinner that attested 
to the fact that were going out on 'special 
assignment' and would be undercover.

The temporary separation was probably a good thing. 
My mind was still reeling from our phone conversation 
the night before, and I definitely needed some 
'Scully-Free' time to get ready for the case. The 
only problem was, the more research I did, the more 
interested I became.  No matter how hard I tried to 
read and view the material before me objectively, 
somehow I always ended up picturing us wearing every 
outfit I saw, using every toy I read about, and in 
various positions on every piece of furniture 
displayed.

By the end of the day, I was feeling hot, bothered, 
confused, and horny.  My head was filled with a mass 
of images, each one further stirring the already 
complex mix of emotions bubbling through my veins.  
Something in me resonated with the information I'd 
found.  I just didn't understand what it meant.

I'd refrained from digging through our purchases, but 
by the time evening came around, I couldn't resist 
the temptation any longer.  I had to try it on.  It 
was one thing to view my 'gear' with an analytical 
eye.  It was something else entirely to actually wear 
it.  I decided my best course of action would be to 
try and lessen the novelty of it all, just make sure 
it fit correctly and get the feel of it, so to speak.  
I had to appear comfortable in my attire, I told 
myself, and I needed to be confident that I wouldn't 
fumble and look stupid when the time came.

Oh, Christ.  *When the time came.*  I closed my eyes 
against the sudden rush of adrenaline that coursed 
through me.  Part of me was terrified, completely 
convinced that at some point I was going to make a 
serious fool out of myself.  The other part couldn't 
wait to get an eyeful of Scully in that thong.  I 
mean, logically I knew we were only going to be 
'pretending'.  But how was I supposed to keep 
reminding myself of that fact when my flesh and blood 
fantasy was standing right in front of me?  If I 
wasn't careful, my own overly enthusiastic responses 
could easily blow our cover on this assignment.  No 
one would buy that we did this all the time if I 
couldn't appear at ease and comfortable around 
Scully.  Not to mention the fact that I was in no 
hurry to get my balls kicked if I couldn't control 
myself and ended up doing something stupid.

O.K. Time to face a little reality.

I stood in front of the full-length mirror that was 
hanging on the back of my bedroom door.  I rarely 
looked at myself other than to make sure my face was 
clean, my tie was straight, and everything was tucked 
in appropriately, but I had to really view this.  I 
had to see what I was going to present.

I studied my body as I stood there in bare feet, 
wearing the black leather shorts and the matching 
vest.  Despite being on the downhill side of forty, I 
was still in good shape.  I had a little extra skin 
around the middle, but not bad.  I still had pecs and 
stomach muscles.  My biceps weren't big, but they 
weren't skinny either.  I had the body of a swimmer 
and runner, not the body of a weight lifter.  I 
wondered which Scully preferred, and chastised myself 
for hoping I'd come close to it.

I turned and observed myself from the side, feeling 
foolish but compelled onward nonetheless.  My ass 
filled out the leather shorts okay, I guessed.  I 
wasn't sagging yet, so that was a good sign.

Exactly when it happened, I couldn't be sure, but as 
I further perused my body, I caught sight suddenly of 
the look in my own eyes and was stunned.  I faced 
front again, almost transfixed.  Everything narrowed 
to encompass only my reflection.  For just a moment, 
I was shocked by how natural this outfit felt and 
looked on me.  I slid my hands up my chest, growing 
steadily more entranced at the sight in the mirror.  
It was like looking at a part of myself I'd never 
seen before.

My fingers interlaced behind my head and that's when 
I noticed it:  Something was missing.  My eyes raked 
my image from head to toe, stopping to linger on my 
neck. I realized immediately what I wanted and went 
to the bed and upended the shopping bag.  Out fell 
the black leather dog collar I'd bought.  It had 
silver studs on it and a small loop on one side for a 
leash. I'd purchased it thinking of Scully, but now ...

My hands trembled as I picked it up and walked back 
to the mirror, holding it up to my neck.  I swallowed 
hard and fastened it on.  It felt funny there, but I 
took a deep breath and really looked at myself again.  
It did complete the outfit, though I couldn't have 
said why that was so.

Christ, I thought, it didn't *mean* anything that I 
liked the collar.  Maybe I could just go back and get 
a matching one with no loop for a leash and wear that 
one if I was so worried about what Scully might read 
into it.  It wasn't like the submissive *had* to have 
a collar and leash anyway, right?  It wasn't like I 
was forgetting our roles in all of this.  I mean, 
despite Scully's show of bravado, and I was sure that 
was what it was, I knew she was going to be 
intimidated in this place.  Hell, I probably was 
going to be too.  However, I knew she needed me to 
take the control.

I was prepared to do that.

Wasn't I?

Fuck, I *had* to be.  She was really going to depend 
on me in there, and I couldn't let her down.  I'd 
always sensed that Scully was uncomfortable with her 
sexuality.  Oh, I've never thought she was as frigid 
as her Ice Queen moniker suggested, not by a long 
shot.  I'd seen her passion and I knew it simmered 
under the surface.  I tried not to do it very often, 
but I could imagine her being very competent in bed 
and directing a man to give her what she needed.  Yet 
regardless of this, I didn't sense that she would be 
as adventuresome I would be.

Or, as adventuresome as I'd *like* to be.

My sexual tastes were pretty uninhibited, and what I 
lacked in experience, I more than made up for with 
willingness.  I just had never found the type of 
sexual partner that I could express my more 
subversive tastes to.  My motto had always been, 'Try 
everything once, and the fun things twice.'  I just 
hadn't had much opportunity to put that into 
practice.  I *wanted* to, but I was getting older 
now, and as time passed by, the likelihood of ever 
exploring anything too extreme seemed to drop right 
along with my love handles.

This case was igniting that need in me again.  I'd 
always felt an ache inside of me, and wanted so much 
to find a way to alleviate it.  Why was this 
affecting me so much?

I wanted something I couldn't name.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXXXXX

The sudden, unprompted image of Scully wearing that 
sexy corset number and bent over a bench blazed 
across my mind.  I hardened immediately and moaned 
softly, closing my eyes.

Jesus.

I hadn't laced the fly and easily pulled myself out 
of the constraints of the shorts, which thankfully, 
allowed extra room for expansion.  I stroked myself 
lightly, feeling my shaft twitch and begin to throb 
with excitement.  I imagined Scully with one of her 
'few' vibrators and felt a surge in my balls.  This 
was going to be quick.  I panted lightly, feeling 
sweat break out on my forehead.  I reached out a hand 
and settled it on the door next to the mirror to 
steady myself.  I increased the speed and harshness 
of my stroking, feeling my orgasm already beginning 
to coil deep in my nut sacks.

I let the shorts fall to the carpet and stepped out 
of them, resuming my stroking after kicking them out 
of the way.  I groaned as I imagined her lips 
wrapping around the head of my cock and that was all 
it took.  I shouted, "Ohhhhh, fuck, Scccuuulllyyy!"

Two things then happened at once.

Hard stinging ropes of cum shot out of my shaft, 
spraying across the mirror, and at the same time a 
hard rapping reverberated through the walls from the 
front door.  I shouted, "Awwww, God!" as my hips 
jerked forward of their own accord, relinquishing the 
last of my load.  I shook myself and realized someone 
was knocking on the door.  Then I heard her voice.

"Mulder!  Are you all right?  Mulder!"

XXXXXXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXXXX

I gasped and reached hastily for the leather shorts, 
yanking them up on my hips and stuffing my sticky, 
flaccid equipment inside.  A wave of panic hit me as 
I realized I'd covered the mirror in my ejaculate.  I 
heard her key in the lock and took a deep breath.  
"Just a sec, Scully!"

I had no time to put on regular clothes and slipped 
out of the bedroom, making sure to close the door 
snugly behind me just as the front door swung open.  
She entered quickly, pushing the door shut and then 
whirling to face me.  "Are you all right, I heard you 
yell," she began.

She came to an abrupt halt and her mouth dropped.  
Her eyes scanned me from head to toe and she gulped. 
"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," I said as calmly as I could, 
trying to mask the breathy quality of my voice.  My 
heart was still beating like a run away train.

"I heard you yell," she began again, her eyes 
searching out the carpet.

"I'm all right.  I didn't hear you knock right away."

"You, you were yelling," she stammered.  "I'm sorry I 
just let myself in, but I thought," her words ended 
abruptly.  Her eyes shot back to me again, flickering 
down to my shorts and skittering away again almost 
immediately.  "You were yelling," she finished, 
somewhat lamely.

I stared at her, unable to answer.  'Gee, Scully.  
Just shouted your name in the middle of a ball 
clenching orgasm.  Sorry about that!'  I was at a 
complete loss for words. "Uh, I was daydreaming," I 
finally said, clearing my throat.

She raised her eyes to me questioningly. 
"Daydreaming?"  When she caught sight of my burning 
cheeks, I saw the corners of her mouth twitch as she 
realized what I had probably been doing.  "Oh, well," 
she stuttered out, looking anywhere but at me. 
"Okay."

An awkward silence descended upon us, thick and 
uncomfortable. "I was trying on the clothes.  To see 
if they all fit, obviously," I choked out, unable to 
stand the heaviness of the quiet.

She nodded, her own cheeks turning pink.  Her eyes 
fastened on my neck and realized I was still wearing 
the collar.  I raised my hands and fumbled with it, 
sliding the latch around to the front and cursing 
softly as it resisted my numb fingers attempts to 
release it.  I felt tears sting my eyes in reaction 
to my embarrassment.  "I'll be right back, Scully, 
I'm sorry."

I turned toward the bedroom, but she was suddenly 
there next to me, having shed her trench coat.  She 
was wearing cotton Capri pants and a crew neck shell 
that hugged the soft swell of her breasts.  She 
whispered, "Here, let me help you."

I jerked my head away, mortified and looked out the 
window.  "I ... sorry.  I just wanted to see what it 
looked like.  Something was missing."

Her cool fingers touched my neck and I shivered.  She 
had it unlatched in two seconds flat and was removing 
it from my neck slowly.  Too slowly.  I looked down 
at her.  Her eyes were on the collar and she let it 
slip off my shoulder and trail over the skin of my 
chest down my breastbone.  Her head shook slightly 
and she yanked her hand away, stepping back to hand 
it back to me.  

I took it in nerveless fingers and let my arm fall to 
my side.  Her eyes were perusing my chest again and I 
had the ridiculous urge to puff my chest out.  I 
resisted, but just barely.  She licked her lips and I 
coughed, trying to swallow the moan that wanted to 
escape.  Despite my recent self abuse session, I felt 
my crotch twitch in my shorts and then realized in 
horror that I hadn't laced them up.

The fly was gaping open at the top, the flaps of 
leather lying against my hips.  I glanced down and 
noticed that the tops of my hipbones were visible.  
It snapped me out of my trance and I put a hand in 
front of my abdomen and said, "I'll change.  I'll be 
right back."

Her hand on my forearm stopped me and I looked at 
her.  "What is it?" I asked quietly.

She stepped back again.  "Lace them up first," she 
said in a strong, soft voice. "Let me see how you 
look."

I felt a zing of excitement race through me at her 
tone.  I always felt this way, exhilarated when 
Scully took on that authoritative manner. She has 
such a quiet yet fierce strength inside of her that 
commands attention when she calls upon it.  Whether 
it was with me, a suspect or someone else, I was 
always a little awed by it.

I stepped back from her, setting the collar on the 
coffee table and then moved my hands down to gently 
tug at the laces, all too aware that I was semi-hard 
and not wanting to lace them too tight.  My hands 
shook as I tied a hasty knot.  I looked back up to 
her, letting my arms fall to my side and waited 
silently for her response, my entire body tense.

She put her hands on her hips and tilted her head to 
one side, raking her eyes from my toes to my head 
again.  I felt my nipples harden under her scrutiny. 
Her gaze met mine, and for a long moment, we just 
stared at each other, until she finally licked her 
lips nervously again and said, "That looks fantastic 
on you, Mulder."

I chuckled a little shyly and shrugged.  "Thanks."

"You're right, though.  It does need something else," 
she commented, her voice far away, her eyes falling 
from mine.

"Scully?"

"You need an armband or," she looked back up to me.   
"The collar.  That goes too."

Something was passing between us, yet I had no idea 
what the hell it was. "Thanks," I said carefully.  
"Maybe I'll get one."

"What's wrong with that one?" she asked, pointing at 
the coffee table.

I snapped my head up to look at her again.  "It's got 
that loop for a leash."

I saw something flare in her eyes for a second and 
she sucked a long breath into her lungs.  Then she 
regarded me calmly and I figured I must have imagined 
the excitement I thought I saw there.  She nodded 
sharply and walked toward my kitchen.  "Get dressed. 
I have some things to go over with you."

End of discussion.

I beat a hasty retreat to the bedroom and shut the 
door behind me, going straight for the bathroom.  I 
stripped off the shorts and vest and carefully wiped 
the residue of my ejaculation off the inside of the 
leather with a damp cloth.  I jumped into the shower 
quickly and rinsed off.  I emerged and pulled on a 
pair of sweats and a tee shirt and went back out into 
the living room.

She was leaning against the doorjamb to the kitchen, 
one shoulder propping her up.  She said, "I started 
coffee."

"Good, cool," I said, feeling like an idiot.

She approached me and stood in front of me about five 
inches away.  I didn't dare move as I looked down at 
her, waiting for her to tell me what she'd come for.  
When she said nothing, I asked, "Did you come here 
for something specific?  Or just to toss ideas about 
the case?"

She swallowed and looked up at me.  "Actually, it 
sounds dumb now."

"What?"

She stepped back slightly.  "Mulder, I'm nervous 
about something regarding this case," she said 
hesitantly.  "I'm not really sure how to bring it 
up."

"Just tell me," I tried to urge softly.

"I was thinking about what we talked about at 
Jackie's," she said, her cheeks flushed pink.  "God, 
I don't know how to say this and not have it sound as 
ridiculous as I know it's going to."

"Scully, just spit it out."

"Mulder, it does stand to reason that the time 
probably *will* come when we might need to touch each 
other, or kiss, or something.  In front of others," 
she added.

It was my turn to swallow harshly, feeling my body 
already begin to sway toward hers.  She noticed and 
took another small step back.  "And?"

"And I don't want the first time I kiss you to be 
awkward.  Especially with an audience."

"Ahh, so you wanted to what?  Practice?" I asked 
sarcastically, retreating into the comfortable mode 
of deflecting my feelings.

She scowled.  "Stupid, huh?  Sorry, I'll just go.  
Forget it."

She turned and didn't take one step before my hand 
was on her arm, yanking her against me.  I wasn't 
rough, but I saw that flare of indignation in her 
eyes again.  She hated to be manhandled.  It was 
something I'd always known.  She did not like her 
height or stature accentuated or pointed out in any 
way.  I didn't blame her and immediately let go of 
her arm.  "Sorry, don't go, Scully."

"No, I'm sorry. I don't know what the hell I was 
thinking."

"Scully, stop," I said softly.  She just stared at 
me, looking uncertain, and I stepped into her, 
putting my hands on her neck and slowly sliding them 
up to her face.  My thumbs came around and rubbed 
gently at her lips.  She sucked in a little, sharp 
breath and I met her eyes.  I lowered my head, so 
slowly it was maddening, giving her a chance to pull 
away.  When I was a hair's breadth away, I whispered. 
"Sure about this?"

I watched her swallow and nod slightly. "Yeah," she 
breathed, her lips moistly parting.

"Then kiss me," I said, proud of how even and 
challenging my voice was.

Her eyes snapped up to mine and there it was again;  
that spark of indignation at my tone.  I nearly 
shrank away from her but managed to hold my ground.  
That was the last minute I can clearly recall.  The 
next second, her hands were on the back of my neck 
and she was crushing her mouth up into mine, jamming 
her tongue into my mouth.

I hesitated for a mere second in surprise and then 
joined the fray, my tongue battling for supremacy 
with hers.  Her hands slipped down my biceps and 
pulled away suddenly.  The next instant they were on 
my chest and pushing.  I nearly staggered back.  
"Sit," she said firmly, indicating the couch.

What the ...?

I gulped and sat down, feeling my cock rise up in my 
pants again, feeling compressed.  Without hesitation, 
she slid into my lap, straddling my legs, and gripped 
my shoulders, plunging her mouth down again.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was trying to 
truly grasp the fact that this was *Scully*.

Her assault now was almost brutal and the battle was 
renewed as we dueled for control of the kiss.  I was 
almost there, thinking I was about to take over and 
direct the next move when one of her hands fisted in 
my hair and yanked my head back.  I yelped in 
surprise more than pain, and stared into her eyes.

They were nearly black with arousal and her lips were 
bruised and swollen.  Her chest heaved and she shook 
my head slightly, like a dog would a pup as if to 
say, 'Behave'.  I felt warmth steal through my chest 
and with it, another shiver of excitement.  Her 
cheeks were flushed and she looked magnificent.  Her 
face came down close to mine.  I never would have 
expected her to be so aggressive, but it lit 
something inside me and I felt my insides burn.  I 
wanted to be what she wanted.  I wanted to be 
whatever she needed.  I only wished I knew what that 
was.

Just the tip of her pink tongue snaked out and slid 
along my bottom lip.  It began to quiver and then she 
sucked the entire thing into her mouth and suckled.  
I groaned loudly, not even trying to suppress it and 
bucked my hips into hers, my now raging erection 
begging for release.  She jammed her hips against 
mine, effectively telling me to stay still.  I 
gritted my teeth and managed to obey as her hand left 
my hair and she cradled my face.  I raised my hands, 
but hers dropped down and grasped my wrists, pinning 
them next to my head against the backrest of the 
couch.  She kissed me again, softly this time. I 
responded tentatively and could feel her approval.  I 
relaxed my arms and felt her grip loosen.  She pulled 
back and silently climbed out of my lap, glancing 
briefly at the big lump in the front of my shorts.

"Now I know how it feels," she said softly.

I whispered back, "So you won't be caught off guard?" 
I played along.

She nodded.  "I'll be prepared."

"Good, I'm glad," I said, wincing at how pathetic it 
sounded.

She nodded again and headed for the door, grabbing 
her coat off the rack and stuffing her arms into it, 
pulling her keys out of her pocket.  Her hand was on 
the knob before I found my voice again.  "Scully," I 
called out.

She stopped and tilted her head but didn't turn to 
look at me.

"Stop by anytime you feel you need ... practice," I 
teased.

I heard another one of her trademark delicate snorts 
and then she was out the door, closing it gently 
behind her.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

I don't know how long I sat there afterwards, 
replaying every move and gesture of the encounter.  
After concentrated effort, my ignored hard on finally 
began to deflate.  I stood up and stripped out of my 
clothes and climbed into bed.  It was early, but I 
couldn't think of what to do now.  She'd turned my 
evening upside down.

The phone rang and I answered the one next to bed, 
"Mulder."  I sounded way too hopeful.

"Fox, how is everything going?"  No introductions.

"Senator," I greeted him, barely disguising the 
disappointment in my voice.  "Everything's fine.  We 
go in tomorrow."

"You have everything you need?"

"Yes, we do.  I've been doing research like you 
asked.  I knew something about it in a peripheral 
way, in any case."

"I'm sure you did.  Don't hesitate to call on me if 
you need anything at all, understand?"

"Yes, Sir.  Thank you.  I'm just ..."

"What, Fox?"

"I'm worried about Agent Scully.  This is the type of 
assignment that can ruin partnerships."

There was an odd pause and then he said, "I think 
your partnership with Agent Scully is strong, the 
best I've ever seen, in fact.  I'm sure it won't 
suffer any damage that can't be repaired."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing.  Just that you two are very good at what 
you do, and you genuinely have a mutual respect for 
one another."

"Yeah, I know, but let's be honest, Senator.  You're 
asking us to go into a very highly charged 
atmosphere.  That's enough to daunt even the stoutest 
of hearts."

"And you don't think Agent Scully has a stout heart?"

"Of course I do, but you know what I mean."

There was another odd silence.  "I think you 
underestimate your partner, Fox."

"I never underestimate Scully!" I said emphatically.

"Are you sure?" he asked cryptically.

My antenna went up suddenly and I sat up in bed.  
"What are you trying to tell me?"

"I'm saying you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.  
And I'm saying you need to have a little more faith 
in your partner, Fox."

Now he'd crossed a line.  I respected the man but 
this was too much.  "Senator, there's not a person on 
this planet I have more faith in than Scully," I said 
fiercely.  "I just don't want this case to cause her 
any more discomfort than it has to."

There was another pause.  "You're right, Fox.  
Forgive me.  I'm merely expressing my own anxiousness 
over solving this case. Please forgive me.  I just 
want my friend's murderer caught."

I deflated.  "I know.  I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to 
raise my voice."

"It's quite all right.  You're right.  It's a highly 
unusual situation, Fox, but that's what you're best 
at, highly unusual situations.  I guess I just want 
to say that I think you'll do fine, both of you."

I relaxed even more under his obvious praise.  I 
hoped his faith in me wasn't misguided.  I honestly 
didn't know if we could pull this off.  How could he 
know of my secret yearnings for my partner? How could 
he know I'd just spent an emotionally charged evening 
having the wind kissed out of me by the object of my 
deepest desires?  I was over reacting.

"I'm sorry again."

"No problem.  Let me know if you need anything, 
anything at all, Fox."

"I will.  Thank you.  Good night."

"One last thing, Fox.  I found out they require an 
emergency contact on the application.  Put my name 
down."

"Your name?"

"Yes, I know the owner through a friend."

"Sir, you aren't a member, are you?" I teased.

There was another awkward pause.  "No, but I have 
friends who are, obviously, so I know something of 
it."

"I see."

"Good night, then."  He hung up without further ado 
and I did too, flopping back onto the bed.

I reviewed the conversation and began to wonder what 
he meant by some of the comments he'd made.  He'd 
almost sounded amused, which was what had annoyed me, 
I realized.  He had sounded as though he knew 
something I didn't, but that couldn't be right.  I 
mean, I knew he knew a lot of things I didn't, but 
nobody knew Scully better than I did.  I just 
couldn't figure out what he'd meant. His comments 
were cryptic and I hated that, ambiguity, 
uncertainty.  He was making me doubt my partner and 
myself.  No, that wasn't right.  I'd done that all by 
myself.

Maybe I *was* underestimating Scully.  I hated to 
admit it, but as I lay there thinking about it, I 
realized many of the things I took for granted were 
assumptions on my part.  I'd never actually really 
talked to Scully about sex, her past, or her 
experiences.  I had no idea how free she was in 
college or grad school.  She teased me about my porn 
collection, but never seemed genuinely offended by 
it, now that I thought about it.  I guess the fact 
that she was Catholic led me to believe certain 
things right off the bat.  What if she wasn't as 
pedestrian in her tastes as I thought?

What if?

My mind flooded with images from the recesses of my 
darkest desires.  My hands bound, Scully making me 
please her.  Feeling vindicated because I'd given her 
pleasure no one else could ever give her.  Seeing her 
breaking apart in my arms in the throes of a 
monstrous orgasm.  I shuddered and felt my cock begin 
to rise again.  I had to stop torturing myself like 
this.  It served no purpose other than to make me 
crave things I couldn't have.  I would never hurt 
Scully and she would never hurt me.  Of this I was 
certain. Sexually aggressive or passive, I knew that 
I would take her any way I could get her, should she 
ever offer herself to me.  I just plain wanted her 
like I had never wanted another woman in my entire 
life.

I knew she had to the power to do something no woman 
had ever done for me.  She could fill the void that I 
spent years trying to fill with work and obsessions 
of various sorts.  She could 'complete' me.  I knew 
she could.  The question was, would she?  Could she 
ever bring herself to take our relationship there?  
Her kisses tonight indicated that maybe I had a 
better chance than I thought previously.  Fantasizing 
about me and doing anything about it were two 
different things.  Being attracted to me and being in 
love with me were two different things.

I was in love with her.  This was my truth, my 
universal constant.  To this day, I still didn't 
know.  Was she in love with me?

XXXXXXXXXX
PART 7 (R) 
CACHOT DESIRER 
WASHINGTON, D.C. 
WEDNESDAY - 10:00 AM

We approached the counter.  No one was there, so 
Scully rang the bell that sat on the long marble top.  
A door opened behind the counter and an enormous man 
appeared.  His salt and pepper hair hung thickly to 
his shoulders.  His chest was broad and his biceps 
bulged.  "Can I help you?" he asked calmly in a 
smooth baritone.

I spoke up.  "We're looking for Jean Luc Dantonet."

"Who's asking?"

I stuck out my hand.  "George Hale.  This is my wife, 
Katherine."

He shook my hand firmly, nodded slightly at Scully 
before he asked,  "What do you want?"

"Membership," I stated firmly.

One thick eyebrow rose towards his hairline.  "I'm 
Jean Luc Dantonet.  This is a very exclusive club, 
Mr. Hale.  We generally don't just accept members 
that walk in off the streets."

I laughed easily.  "We're not exactly walking in off 
the streets.  We brought some references."  I reached 
into the pocket of suit jacket and handed him the 
cream colored envelope that Senator Matheson had 
given us.  I was dying to know who had written the 
recommendations and had briefly considered steaming 
the envelope open.  Later, I had decided against it.  
I didn't want to be in the Senator's bad graces and 
that would be a breach of his trust.  Didn't dampen 
my curiosity, though.

He opened the envelope, tearing the end off, and slid 
out a sheaf of papers.  I realized there had to be at 
least four letters there.  He unfolded them and read 
them quietly, while Scully shifted her weight from 
one leg to the other.  We'd decided to wear our work 
clothes for the approach.  It wouldn't look right to 
wear the gear outside the club and we knew that many 
Washingtonians were members here, so they were 
probably used to seeing business suits.

I saw both his eyebrows rise as he read the second 
letter.  He went faster after that, leafing through 
them as I counted.  There were four.  He cleared his 
throat.  "Seems I owe you an apology for being rude."

I smiled.  "No problem.  We know you don't know us."

"Why is that?" he asked.

"Pardon me?"

"Why is it that I don't know you?"

I hesitated and Scully jumped in.  "We just 
transferred out here from San Diego.  This is our 
first time living on the east coast."

He nodded.  "Ah, well, then, welcome to the Atlantic 
side."

We both chuckled.  "Thanks."

He eyed our duffel bags, then ducked down, emerging 
with two white sheets of paper.  The recommendations 
were gone.  He must have put them under the counter.  
"I need you to fill these out for our records.  I 
have to have your real addresses and an emergency 
contact for you."

We nodded as though we were used this.  He slid them 
across the counter with a pen.  "I'll be back in a 
few minutes."

As soon as he left, Scully whispered, "Who should we 
put?  I can't exactly list my mother on this."

"For what?"  Then I realized I never told her about 
Senator Matheson's call last night.  "Oh, put Senator 
Matheson."

"Are you nuts?" she whispered.

"He called last night about this very thing, I forgot 
to tell you.  Just put him down.  I'll explain it all 
later."

Her eyebrow shot up. "You better."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Registration went without a hitch. We were given a 
tour of the facilities and were shown the locker 
rooms for the men and women and each assigned a 
locker.  Scully was suspiciously quiet throughout and 
I worried that she was already getting overwhelmed.  
I couldn't wait to get her into a room so she could 
relax for a little while.  We ended our tour and made 
reservations for a standing appointment three nights 
a week.  We didn't have to make the appointments if 
we didn't want to, but if we missed, and didn't 
cancel by phone, we would have to pay for the use of 
the facilities anyway.  We gave both our fake credit 
cards for insurance and were finally shown to a 
private room as requested.

He handed us a key, asking that we lock the door if 
we had to leave for any reason and planned on 
returning.  He also asked that we turn in the key on 
our way out.  Scully finally became vocal and thanked 
him, shaking his hand saying she was very pleased 
with his facility.  "It's first rate, Mr. Dantonet.  
I'm impressed."

He puffed a little under her praise and I smiled, 
proud of her for thinking to stroke him a bit.  We 
hadn't left our things in the locker room, but toted 
them with us as we entered the room and locked the 
door behind us.  We stood silently, looking around.  
The room contained a wall brace, where you could bind 
someone into a padded leather chair like thing that 
hooked them to the wall.  There was a bench and a 
horse, or a triangular type bench that you bent 
someone over.  There were poles with hooks for 
handcuffs.  I looked at the set up, which looked like 
staging.  One long wooden pole hung between two cross 
braces.  I could see where you could fasten handcuffs 
to the pole to keep your partner upright but still 
effectively have them at your mercy.  My pants 
swelled at the thought of a helpless Scully, but then 
I quickly imagined myself there and felt another, 
much stronger surge in my groin.

I bit my lip and turned to see her making the same 
perusal I was.

"So," I said.

"So," she repeated.  An awkward silence followed. "I 
guess I should go to the locker room and change."

"Change here," I heard myself saying.  Her eyes 
snapped up to mine and I said quickly, "I'll look the 
other way. I mean, don't you think it'll look strange 
that we aren't comfortable enough to change in the 
same room?"

She continued looking at me for a long moment, and I 
had to fight not to squirm under her penetrating 
gaze.  "Yeah. You're right." She graced me with a 
quirky smile and set her duffel bag down.  She 
squatted and pulled out a couple of items I 
recognized from the shopping trip.  I turned away and 
then heard her say, "Why don't you dress too?"

We proceeded to strip and leave our clothes folded 
neatly on a bench near the wall, studiously trying to 
avoid looking at each other. I still ended up 
sneaking glances in spite of my best efforts not to.  
Our eyes caught once and we both smiled sheepishly 
before turning back around.

"Mulder, you're peeking."

"How would you know if you weren't looking to catch 
me?" I said slyly.

I heard her answering chuckle. "Point taken."

I was done, wearing the pants and the vest and in my 
bare feet.  I wiggled my toes against the rubber mat 
that covered the floor and cleared my throat.  I had 
the distinct feeling she was checking out my 
backside. Or maybe it was wishful thinking.

She said softly, "I'm done, you can turn around."

I turned around quickly and felt my eyes widen and my 
mouth drop.  She was wearing the corset, laced up the 
center with inches of Scully skin showing through the 
laces.  The black thong panties barely covered her 
nether lips.  Jesus Christ.  I gulped, trying not to 
do a double take when I realized there was no visible 
hair peeking from the sides.  Holy shit, she had to 
have shaved.  Her thighs were bare until they met the 
black stockings with elastic tops that clung to her 
legs like a second skin.  One hand was behind her 
back, but I could still see that it too was covered 
with a black leather glove that reached to her 
forearm.  I didn't remember those being bought.

Maybe they were one of the things she'd purchased 
when she was by herself.  Man, what else did she have 
in that bag of goodies?

I blew air out of pursed lips and said, "You look," I 
shook my head.  "Don't take this the wrong way but, 
Jesus, there are no words for how sexy you are."

She beamed me the full smile, with teeth, and I felt 
my stomach do a weird little flip-flop.  Then she 
lowered the hand that was behind her back and I saw 
she was holding the dog collar.  My voice was husky 
when I asked, "Do you want me to put that on you?"

I approached her slowly as though she were a skittish 
colt that might bolt at any minute.  She shook her 
head and I stopped.  Then she said, "I want to put it 
on YOU.  It goes with your outfit better."

My jaw dropped.  "But," I started to protest.

She crooked her finger at me and I was helpless to 
resist.  I walked up and stopped about a foot away. 
She bit her bottom lip as though deciding on 
something and finally said, "Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do," I stuttered again.

"Kneel down."

I know my eyes got wide for a second, but then I 
realized she couldn't reach that well when I was 
standing like this.  Despite the three-inch fuck me 
pumps on her feet, I still towered over her.  I knelt 
down, trying not to look clumsy and she smiled at me.  
She reached out and slid the collar around my neck.  
Then when she leaned forward to see the latch in the 
back and hook it, her chest was suddenly right in 
front of my face.  I exhaled a long, hot breath and 
watched as her skin broke out into gooseflesh. Right 
between her breasts was this perfect little patch of 
skin that had my tongue written all over it.

I felt myself begin to sway forward.

I was seconds from doing one of those really stupid 
things I was so worried about doing, when I found one 
tiny sliver of self-restraint and grabbed a hold of 
it for all I was worth.  My hands came up to grip her 
waist and I felt her stiffen.  "Scully," I sighed, 
pushing her back from me slightly.

"What are you doing?"

I dropped my hands immediately, and fell back to sit 
on my heels, needing to put some space between us. 
"Nothing," I started to say when I looked up at her 
from where I sat and almost groaned at the sight. 
From this vantage point, I could now see directly 
between her legs, the thin line of fabric of her 
thong hugged down the middle by the plump sides of 
her flesh.  This was fucking ridiculous.

I stood abruptly and turned away from her, taking 
several steps toward the opposite wall.  This was NOT 
going to work.  How the hell was I supposed to keep 
my mind on the goddamned case with her looking like 
that?

"Mulder," her quiet voice floated toward me. I closed 
my eyes, fighting for some control.  "I told you I 
wouldn't hold it against you.  I meant that. It's 
okay."

I felt my heart rate increase. I turned back to her. 
There was no point in hiding my reactions if she was 
already well aware of how she was affecting me.  I 
expected to see mirth in her eyes, but was surprised 
to see her regarding me very seriously.  I swallowed. 
"What?" I asked stupidly, feeling the walls caving 
in.

She tilted her head to the side and continued to 
stare.

"What!?" I asked again, self-consciousness flooding 
through me.

"Where are the shorts we bought for you?"

"Uhhh, at home." I dropped my gaze. I hadn't worn 
them on purpose, hoping in no way to remind her of 
what I'd been doing the last time she'd seen me in 
them.

"Wear them when we come back."

My eyes shot back up to her. "Why?"

She held my gaze. "Because I'm asking you to."

I felt almost shy under the intensity of her stare. 
"Yeah, okay, whatever you say."

"Whatever I say?" she repeated back to me, her tone 
serious and soft.

"Anything," I breathed, starting to see that outfit 
on her in a whole new light.  I was suddenly very 
conscious of the collar on my neck.

Her eyes flickered away from me.  "Mulder, listen to 
me," she began.

The sudden, shrill ring of my cell phone erupted from 
the confines of my gym bag, causing us both to jump 
slightly.  She smirked.  "Saved by the bell."

I smiled and moved to answer it.  "Yeah?"

[Are you inside?] a voice asked at once.

I couldn't believe it. "Senator, I don't think you 
understand the concept of 'undercover'. It's very 
dangerous for you to contact us," I reprimanded.

[Fox, are you inside?] he said again, urgency in his 
voice.

I glanced up at Scully, who was eyeing me curiously. 
"Yes, Sir."

[I know this goes against protocol, but it simply 
couldn't wait.  The coroner has changed Senator 
Thompson's cause of death to 'Accidental 
Asphyxiation'.]

"What???"

[I don't understand it either, Fox, but it tells me 
there may be a lot more going on in that club than 
any of us thought.]

"Why would they want to cover up his murder?"

[It makes absolutely no sense,] he agreed gravely.

"Somebody doesn't want this place investigated," I 
said, pinching the bridge of my nose between my 
fingers. "What's your call on this? Without a murder, 
we have no justification for an official 
investigation."

[No, you stay exactly where you are and continue as 
originally planned.]

"But, Sir," I protested.

[Leave the official channels to me. This changes 
nothing as far as you're concerned. You need only to 
heighten your level of awareness, Fox.]

I sighed. "Are you sure this is the right thing to 
do?"

[You still have a killer to catch,] he answered 
pointedly.  [The only difference is that we are now 
aware that this killer has significant influence 
outside of the club.  You need to be very careful 
where you step.  If the State Department is 
confronted by anyone regarding your presence there, 
you know what they will do," he told me.

"Deny everything," I finished for him.

[They have no choice, Fox. 'Officially' now, there is 
no investigation.]

"This is just great," I muttered darkly.

[Just don't do anything rash, keep to your covers and 
don't call any attention to yourselves.]

"Yeah."

[I'm sorry, Fox.  I won't be able to contact you for 
several days. You and Agent Scully are the only hope 
we have now of infiltrating the club.  I can keep you 
there for the time being because you're already set 
up, but there's no way I can make justifications for 
trying to go back in later.]

"Yes, Sir."

[Good luck,] he said and the line went dead.

I turned off the phone and looked back to Scully. 
"What the hell is going on?" she asked immediately.

"Well, partner, looks like we're on our own."

XXXXXXXXXX

I filled Scully in on everything Matheson had said, 
and she took it remarkably well, stating that we 
*did* still have a case to solve and if anything, 
this new information just added to the necessity of 
our presence here.  I disagreed. Completely.  We 
spent the next hour or so in a heated debate.  I just 
couldn't shake the feeling that if and when the shit 
finally hit the fan, we were going be the ones to get 
nailed by it.

In between arguing we made a tentative course of 
action.  Now that we were on the inside, we had to 
start trying to flush out our perp.  We weren't all 
that sure of where to start, but ultimately decided 
that at first, we would make separate attempts to 
look around, feeling we could easily explain 
ourselves if we got noticed by anyone.  Scully 
effectively put 'I got so turned around looking for 
the restroom' to good use when she was seen by Jean-
Luc trying to get a good look at the 'Employee Area'.

That pretty much ended our snooping for the day.  
Even if she did still feel we should be on the case, 
I could tell that Senator Matheson's phone call had 
her a little rattled, so I wasn't surprised when she 
suggested we call it a night.

We ended our first 'session' appearing adequately 
red-faced upon departure, but only because we'd 
managed to get each other's blood pressure up.

We went into things a little more prepared on our 
next visit and I wore the damn shorts.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX 
PART 8 (R) 
CACHOT DESIRER 
WASHINGTON, D.C. 
TWO DAYS LATER

We reentered the club without incident and were given 
another private room as requested. The new location 
gave us a better chance of observing the other 
members, as it was the last room at the end of a long 
hallway and required us to walk through a good 
portion of the club to reach the lockers and 
bathrooms.

Without the outlet of arguing with each other, the 
tension between Mulder and I was extremely high. 
Truthfully, I'd only disagreed with him before 
because it gave me some place to direct some of the 
pent-up energy that was pumping through me. I *did* 
doubt the choice to keep us on the case, just like he 
did.  However, it made some sense, given that we were 
already in, just to keep us where we were.

We dressed in silence, the air already thick. I 
slipped on the same outfit I'd worn that first day, 
but decided to skip the gloves. I was determined to 
exercise more control over myself.  However, the 
second I turned around and caught sight of Mulder in 
those shorts, I actually salivated. It wasn't just 
because they looked so good on him, but he'd worn 
them *for me*, because I'd asked him to.

He watched my reaction and then made an obvious 
production out of lacing them loosely about his hips. 
He finished, his hands at his sides, and smiled.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" I asked him.

His eyes flared as he realized what I was referring 
to, and wordlessly, he reached into his bag for the 
collar and walked slowly toward me.  Once he stood 
directly in front of me, he dropped immediately to 
his knees and held the collar out for me to take from 
him.

Oh God, did he know what he was implying with this?

I fastened it around his neck slowly, not once 
breaking eye contact with him.  I knew Mulder's 
experiences with this were limited.  I could tell by 
his reactions to the setting of the club and the 
outfits that this was truly virgin territory for him, 
but I also knew he'd done some research.  He had to 
be at least peripherally aware of the significance of 
his gesture.

Was it what he wanted? Was he asking me for this?  Or 
were we still just playing parts?

I decided to save this for a later discussion. 
Despite how much I wanted to ask him these questions, 
I was still reluctant to do it.  I reminded myself 
for about the hundredth time since he dropped to his 
knees before me that we weren't here to address any 
personal issues, we were here to solve a damn case.

I stepped carefully back from him. "All set?" I asked 
softly.

He rose smoothly to his feet.  "Let's get this show 
on the road."

XXXXXXXXXX

We decided to risk looking around together, wanting 
to get a feel for the people in the club.  We both 
knew we had to be careful, but neither of us could 
just sit there in the room and stare at the equipment 
or the walls for very much longer.  So we left 
quietly and locked the door behind us.

We snaked silently through the hall.  Some of the 
doors were closed with 'Privacy' signs on them, but 
others were hanging open.  I quickly realized that 
there were 'resident Doms' and 'resident Submissives' 
that worked for the club.  Those without partners 
could engage a staff member of their choice.  In most 
of those cases, the staff operated in view unless the 
client wanted privacy.

I knew that some people got off on the audience 
aspect of things.  Being made to do submissive things 
in front of others, simply to please your Dom, added 
to the pleasure for some.  We both studiously held 
back from overtly looking into the rooms with open 
doors.  Still, the sounds of ongoing sexual 
engagement were beginning to make us both jumpy.

We carefully avoided any direct contact with each 
other.  Mulder walked a full, four paces in front of 
me.  My eyes were drawn down to his slim hips, 
leather shorts riding low.  Jesus, he looked so good.

I was entranced by the sway of his body, graceful yet 
still so masculine.  In fact, I was so preoccupied by 
his movement, that before I knew what was happening, 
I ran into him.  My front was suddenly flush against 
his bare back, my lips just millimeters from his damp 
skin.

My hands came down on his hips to steady myself.  I 
felt his back immediately go rigid with tension, the 
muscles pulling tight.  For one very long second, I 
couldn't move, just stayed there pressed against him.

I had to peel myself away from him, but finally I 
moved, trying to step to the side.  Mulder remained 
utterly still.  It was then that I heard a 
particularly throaty moan coming from the slightly 
open door in front of him and couldn't help 
attempting to peer around him.  He was literally 
frozen in place, and his body kept me from getting a 
good view of the occupants in the room.

Something had caught his attention. Completely.

XXXXXXXXXX

God. Oh God.

The man was lying on his stomach on a padded bench 
that was outfitted with hooks to which his wrists and 
ankles were attached via hand and ankle cuffs.  He 
was almost standing, bent at the waist. His naked ass 
stuck up into the air, hanging off the end of the 
bench, his back arched.  The woman standing over him 
was wearing leather shorts and a black leather half 
top.  Her left hand was raised and off to her side, 
holding a paddle with a ridged rubber mat on it.  I 
felt my breathing grow shallow and my groin thicken 
as I noticed his buttocks were red from the spanking 
he had obviously just received.

However, what stopped me cold was the sight of her 
right hand, encased in a latex glove and between his 
cheeks.  I couldn't tell how many from here, but she 
had at least one finger buried inside him.  I 
swallowed as she retracted her hand and moaned softly 
when I saw her slide two fingers back inside.  The 
man threw his head back, and groaned again.  His eyes 
were covered with a blindfold.

She began tapping his butt gently with the paddle 
while she stroked her fingers in and out of him.  His 
moaning segued into a long, drawn out sound of such 
exquisite pleasure that I shuddered visibly and 
breathed out a soft moan of, "Ohhh."

Then my head cleared just enough to register Scully's 
presence with a vengeance.  She was still behind me, 
but had moved enough to the side that she now had a 
clear view of the room.  I dared to glance at her, 
expecting to find her watching the couple, but 
instead, her eyes were on me.  I felt my face flush 
with embarrassment and I looked down, knowing she had 
heard my soft moan and seen me shiver.

She leaned up towards me and I bent my head to get 
closer.  She whispered, "You like that, don't you?"

I opened my mouth but then closed it again, not 
knowing what to say.  I more than liked it and I knew 
it was obvious.  It resonated with something deep 
inside me.  I looked away from her, not answering. 
I'd always had this deep-seated fantasy of being 
totally taken over by a sexual partner.  Absolving 
myself of responsibility.  Having someone to tell me 
*exactly* what to do.  I'd never been able to express 
to anyone that need, too afraid that they'd think I 
was weak, or worse, perverted.

I still didn't want to risk that, especially now, 
especially with her.  I'd made so many mistakes in 
the past.  I couldn't afford to make mistakes with 
Scully.  Sometimes trying to figure out what the 
right thing was could be perfectly maddening.  It 
would be nice if women came with an instruction 
manual, but they didn't.  I would like to have a 
woman simply tell me, exactly, in exquisite detail, 
what she wanted and how.  Then I could stop guessing 
and second-guessing every move I made.

I glanced at her again and she whispered, "We 
shouldn't watch without asking."

I nodded but turned my attention to the couple again, 
knowing I shouldn't be gaping at them, yet unable to 
help myself.  The woman had dropped the paddle and 
was kneeling behind the man now.  Her left hand was 
stroking his cock, which hung down where his hips 
were dangling off the end of the bench.  Her fingers, 
now three of them, were still working his backside.  
She was gently biting and then licking his reddened 
butt cheeks.  I felt a weakness wash through my body 
and my knees bobbed as though they would no longer 
hold me up.  My cock was hard and straining against 
the laced fly of my leather shorts.

I leaned one shoulder on the wall for support and 
nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt Scully press 
her body into my side, her arm slipping around my 
back as though to support me.  I looked at her and 
she was now flushed too.  Her right hand rested on my 
stomach, just above the waistband of my pants.

I heard a quiet but authoritative voice speak from 
behind us.  "What are you doing?"

We both jumped guiltily and spun around.  I nearly 
lost my balance and reached out a hand to the wall to 
steady myself.  It was Jean Luc Dantonet, standing 
with his arms akimbo and a scowl on his face.  I 
stuttered, "I'm sorry, we were just ... looking around 
and saw ..."

"It's polite to ask the Dom first if you can watch, 
even if their door is open.  It's an understood 
courtesy in the club, in *any* club," he emphasized. 
"Having the door open creates the illusion of an 
audience for the participants, even when there isn't 
one.  For an outsider to actually watch, though, you 
should always ask permission."  Oh fuck.  Did he 
doubt that we knew this?  Of course he did.  People 
who lived the lifestyle would have known this.

"I'm sorry, you're right."

Scully surprised me by straightening her spine and 
speaking up.  "I'm sorry.  I was just telling him 
that.  I'd sent him to get towels and he was 
dawdling.  I just found him here and told him he 
needed to ask if he wanted to watch."

"He didn't know this?" Jean Luc asked, sounding 
skeptical.

At that moment, a tall woman with brunette hair down 
to her waist and wearing a bustier walked up beside 
him.  She'd obviously been listening from down the 
hall.  She scowled at us.  "Which one of you is the 
Top?" she asked.

I opened my mouth to say it wouldn't happen again, 
that we were just fascinated with his establishment, 
when Scully shocked me again.  Before I could say 
anything, she answered, "I'm his Mistress, and this 
is my Pet," she said indicating me.  "He's still new 
to this and we're having a few discipline problems. 
He doesn't know the etiquette yet."

I know I went slack jawed for a second but then she 
tapped me on the chin and I closed my mouth.  What 
the hell was she doing? She was going to blow our 
covers right here!  What if he asked her a question 
about the proper etiquette?  Had she done enough 
research?  We were in dangerous waters here.

Jean Luc said, "Ahh, I see.  Still, it's not ever 
polite or acceptable to eavesdrop."  He glanced at me 
and said, "Make sure he learns the etiquette.  You 
should have taught him that before coming in here."

"You're right," Scully admitted.  "We've only started 
this at home.  Moving out here, I was anxious to get 
started in a club with all the equipment.  He's still 
too curious.  I'm really sorry.  I promise it won't 
happen again."

Jean Luc scowled again as another woman walked up.  
She was wearing tall spike heeled red leather boots, 
red leather shorts and a matching bra.  Her black 
hair was cut in a severe bob, and her soft blue eyes 
were accented with entirely too much eyeliner.  She 
was carrying a whip, coiled up in her fist.  She'd 
obviously been listening from one of the open doors. 
"You believe this, Jean?" she asked somewhat 
nervously.

He glanced at her.  "I don't know, but they didn't 
really do anything blatantly wrong."  He waved a 
negligent hand at me.  "She said he's new, doesn't 
know the etiquette.  I'll let it go this time."  He 
turned back to Scully, "Make sure he knows how to 
behave from now on."

The woman spoke up again.  "Do we even know these 
people? I've never seen you before," she said, 
obvious distress leaking into her tone.

"I'll ask the questions, Maureen," Jean Luc 
reprimanded her and she averted her eyes, her bottom 
lip trembling.  Her body language was tight and 
controlled and I realized she was not used to being 
talked to so sternly.

"They could be reporters, for all you know.  We need 
to be careful."

"WE?" he asked ironically.  She withdrew a half a 
step back and swallowed.

"You, I mean.  I care about this place.  It's how I 
make my living," she back pedaled.  "Jean, I just, in 
light of recent events," she said, and suddenly 
paled, pressing her lips together.

I looked at Jean and saw him subtly shake his head, 
warning her not to complete her thoughts out loud.  
Ah ha, so this woman, at least, knew of the murder, I 
thought.

Scully then stepped forward, holding out a hand to 
the other woman, who was now just quietly observing 
the rest of us.  "I'm Mistress Kat."

The woman shook her hand.  "I'm Margot Dantonet."

"Pleased to meet you."  She turned to the black-
haired woman.  No one else would have noticed, but I 
detected the slight shift in her body language as she 
stood as straight as possible and she shot the woman 
a careful smile.  "And you?"  She held out her hand.

The woman shifted but stepped to Scully.  "I'm 
Mistress Haze."  Scully nodded in acknowledgement.

Margot's voice interrupted sharply, "If you are 
having trouble with your Sub, we'd be glad to help 
train him.  Our staff has a lot of experience.  I'm 
sure *we* could make him behave."  She raised an 
eyebrow in challenge and I felt myself shiver for an 
entirely different reason.  I wondered how Scully 
would handle this one.  She didn't like to be 
threatened and the woman was obviously looking for a 
negative reaction.

Scully sighed.  "I have plenty of experience, thank 
you."

I stopped just short of raising my own questioning 
eyebrow, knowing that I couldn't interrupt without 
blowing the scenario Scully was setting up here.  I 
wished I knew what the hell she was doing.  I hoped 
she'd done as much research as I had.  I looked at 
her again, lowering my head and peering at her from 
under my lashes.  I learned that the sub shouldn't 
look directly into the eyes of the Dom unless given 
permission.  Scully was standing straight and sure, 
no hesitation in her demeanor now.  I was struck with 
the force of her presence and realized how much 
attention she commanded despite her diminutive 
stature.

The woman said, "If he doesn't know the basics of 
etiquette, perhaps you do need some help."

Scully's face hardened and she said, "He's mine.  
I'll train him," she said slowly.

The woman nodded but I could see her tongue in her 
cheek as she suppressed a smile.  She wasn't taking 
Scully seriously and that was a mistake.  Despite the 
fact that she was putting on a good act, this woman 
sensed something 'off' here.  She was perceptive and 
that made her dangerous.  I hoped Scully realized 
that too. The woman said, "Jean, how about a 
demonstration from our Mistress with so much 
experience?"

Margot was nodding.  "She says she knows the 
etiquette," she said looking nervously at Scully. 
"Have her prove it, Jean Luc."

Jean Luc scowled slightly at her and looked at us 
again.  "I hope you understand that we need to be 
suspicious here.  We've had reporters try to 
infiltrate this club in the past.  Very important 
people belong to this club.  We guarantee people's 
anonymity and adhere strictly to confidentiality 
rules.  Careers can be ruined by the lifestyle, as 
I'm sure you know."

Scully nodded.  "I understand perfectly."

"These ladies are correct.  We don't know you.  Not 
yet, anyway.  Would you mind giving us a little 
demonstration?  Maybe we could give you some 
suggestions?"

"An audience?" Scully asked, her voice raising just a 
little, showing the first crack in her armor.  I 
shrank against the wall, thinking that we might have 
to pull the owner aside and break our covers after 
all.

The woman, Margot, smirked.  "You didn't seem to mind 
sneaking up to watch them."  She waved a hand at the 
still open door.  We were all standing out of view of 
the doorway now.  "You shouldn't mind being watched."

Jean Luc scowled again.  "Margot, let's try to give 
them the benefit of the doubt."

"I think we need to be careful, Jean-Luc," she said 
somewhat cryptically. "If she is what she says she 
is, then a demonstration is an acceptable way to 
prove that."

"She's right, Jean-Luc!" the other woman chimed in 
immediately.

Jean-Luc turned to her.  "Don't you have a client to 
attend to, Maureen?"

She frowned.  "Not just now, no."

"All right.  Fine.  I agree." He looked to Scully, 
the challenge obvious in his eyes.

I glanced at Scully again before lowering my eyes. 
She returned my look briefly then turned to Jean- 
Luc.  "Let me get my stuff," she said.

My eyes popped open and I stared at her.  She glared 
at me and I lowered my eyes again.  I peeked and saw 
both Jean Luc and Margot smirking.

"Can you give me a few minutes?" Scully asked Jean 
Luc, totaling ignoring the other two women.

Jean nodded.  "We'll meet you in your room in ten 
minutes."

"Come on, Pet."  Without looking back at me she 
strode off down the hall.  I swallowed and followed 
her quickly, keeping my eyes on the floor.

We entered the room and I closed the door behind us 
as she walked quickly and purposefully to her bag. 
"What the hell, Scully?  I thought we agreed I was 
going to do the talking in here."

She looked up and calmly said, "That would have been 
a mistake.  You don't know the etiquette."

"And you do?" I asked sarcastically.

The eerie look of calm on her face made me swallow 
harshly.  She said softly, "Yes, I do."

"Want to tell me about it?" I asked, unable to 
believe that she hadn't shared this.  "Did you do 
research?"

"I don't have time to explain, Mulder," she said 
forcefully, unzipping her bag and digging out 
handcuffs and the leash.

"I need to know," I said back just as forcefully.  
Then I saw her pull out something I know **I** didn't 
buy.  It was a cock and ball harness and my voice 
almost squeaked when I yelped in surprise. "What the 
hell?"

"We have to get a few things straight if we're going 
to pull this off."

"Pull this off?  We should be marching Jean into his 
office right now and blowing our cover, for Christ's 
sake.  This is fucking crazy!"

She looked up at me in surprise, as if this idea 
hadn't even occurred to her.  "It's too late now.  I 
set the stage."

"For what?"

"We need to put on a show, Mulder."

"How the fuck do you propose to put on a 'show'?" I 
asked incredulously.

"Well, we'll deal with the consequences later.  I 
have about five minutes now to throw some things at 
you so we don't look like fumbling idiots."

"Throw things at ME?"

"YES, YOU!" she shouted.  "Now shut up and listen," 
she said with such force that I was struck mute. 
There was a note of iron in her voice that I'd never 
heard before.  "Look, I'll tell you everything later, 
but not right now.  We don't have time."

I nodded.  "What's the plan?  You obviously have 
one," I said facetiously.

She glared at me.  "I know you can act, Mulder.  So 
now is the time.  You are my sub, my bottom."  She 
ticked off her instructions on her fingers.  "One, 
you address me as Mistress at all times.  Answer me 
that way.  Yes, Mistress.  No, Mistress.  Two, I call 
you Pet.  Three, you don't look me in the eye without 
permission.  Four, you obey me instantly when I ask 
you do something or you answer me quickly when I ask 
you a question.  Five, under NO circumstances do you 
argue with me.  If you need to know something you 
ask, 'May I ask a question, Mistress?'  Got all 
that?"

I nodded, dumbstruck.

"You need a safe word.  Something easy to remember."

"Then you better not make it your birth date."

Completely ignoring me, she went on, "Gardenia. 
That's simple.  Repeat it?"

"Gardenia." This just wasn't happening.

She frowned.  "Whatever you do, don't slip and call 
me Scully or Katherine.  Mistress only."

"Mistress Kat.  May I ask a question?" I asked.

She continued to frown.  "Just Mistress, skip the 
Kat.  I just said that for their benefit so they can 
pin a name on me.  I don't really like it, but it was 
all I could come up with on short notice."

I remembered Senator Matheson telling me I was 
underestimating her.  He said I should have more 
faith in her and I shouldn't worry about her.  I was 
getting a sinking feeling that there were more 
secrets than I ever thought lying dormant in Scully.

"What did you go by before?" I asked quickly, 
blindsiding her with the question as an unbelievable 
thought occurred to me.

"Mistress Red," she said without hesitation.  Then 
her head jerked as she realized what she'd said and 
color suffused her cheeks.  "Oh shit," she muttered, 
licking her lips.

"We need to talk."

"We don't have time."

"Oh no, you're not getting out of this one."

"Mulder."

There was a sharp knock on the door.  "Just a 
second!" Scully hollered.

She turned to me and snapped the leash on me.  "Take 
your pants off."

I gulped. "Wha-what?"

"NOW!"

I didn't even hesitate and unlaced them quickly with 
shaking hands, sliding them down my legs.  She handed 
me a leather G- string she'd produced from somewhere, 
and I slipped it on, leaving the vest on for now.  
"Kneel down and keep your eyes on the floor," she 
commanded.

I stood bewildered for just a second but then sunk to 
my knees. "Yes, Mistress," I whispered, feeling a 
ripple of fear followed quickly by a ripple of 
excitement.  Oh God.  Oh fuck.  What were we doing?

Her hand landed on my neck.  "Look at me, Pet."

My eyes jerked up to hers, hearing the affection and 
soothing tone of her voice.  "Do you trust me?" she 
asked quietly.

"Yes," I said without hesitation.

"Then trust me now."

I nodded.

"Eyes down, it's show time."

I dropped my eyes to the mat, feeling a tingle of 
blinding arousal slam through me.  She meant it.  We 
were really going through with this.

Jesus Christ.

My entire body trembled.  I heard Scully open the 
door and listened to the soft footsteps of our 
audience on the rubber mat draw closer.  I felt every 
hair on my body stand on end.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jean Luc Dantonet did not say anything as he closed 
the door behind him.  He knew what the other two 
didn't; that these two had come highly referenced by 
not one but four high-ranking members of the club 
that were in good standing.  He didn't want to 
believe they were fakes, but he couldn't take the 
chance.

XXXXXXXXXX
PART 9 (NC-17) 
CACHOT DESIRER 
WASHINGTON, D.C. 
PRIVATE ROOM

"Over here, Pet.  Put your back to the board."

I started to stand but Scully's high heel landed 
lightly between my shoulder blades. "Crawl," she 
commanded.

Immediately, pleasure rippled through me at her tone. 
I dropped to all fours and moved forward.  When I 
found myself near the upright board she'd indicated, 
I carefully stood and leaned back against it.  It was 
tilted at a slight angle.  She cuffed my hands to it 
and then, without so much as a word of warning, she 
reached up and began to remove my G-string.  My 
thighs twitched under her nimble fingers.  When she 
lightly ran her palm across my length as she slid the 
material off, I bit down hard on my bottom lip and 
whimpered.

Embarrassment and excitement battled inside me.  At 
once, I felt horribly exposed, my sex lying hot and 
thick on my thigh, but, to my astonishment, I was 
already partially erect despite the circumstances.  I 
panted lightly, not sure of how to respond.  She 
cuffed my ankles to the board.  I was restrained now 
and caught between surrender and struggle.  'I trust 
her,' I reminded myself and slowed my breathing down.  
I remembered what she said and was careful not to 
look her directly in the eye.  "What's your safe 
word, Pet?" she asked suddenly.

My stomach flipped, liquid heat and fear pounding 
through me.  "Gardenia, Mistress," I answered without 
hesitation.

"Good, Pet," she said softly and ruffled my hair.  I 
felt unreasonably pleased by this small display of 
affection.  Without saying another a word, she walked 
away and returned with a circular plastic object in 
her hand. I gulped noisily when I realized it was a 
cock ring.  I could see small round balls inside the 
plastic tube and shuddered.

Her hand lightly traced my cheek, a fleeting but 
soothing caress, as she reached behind my head and 
secured my collar to the board.  I jerked my head 
forward and nearly choked myself.  "Easy, Pet," her 
soft alto floated into my ear.  "You trust me, don't 
you?"

"With everything, Mistress," I replied hoarsely.

I think I surprised her with my response.  It was 
miniscule, but I caught her very slight intake of 
breath.  "Do I excite you, Pet?" she asked. I felt 
her hand snake up my thigh to fondle my balls.  I 
trembled, letting out my breath in a harsh rush.  
Then lightly, she ran her fingernails up the shaft of 
my penis.

I groaned, "Oh God. Yeesss."  My cock was fully hard 
now.  I could hardly believe I was so aroused even 
with the prickle of knowledge that we were being 
watched.  I was exposing my cock to her for the first 
time.  How could I not get excited?

Her hand released me and she flicked her finger off 
her thumb and smacked my nipple.  "Uhhh!" I cried out 
at the sting.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Mistress!" I cried out, louder than I intended 
to, surprised by her sneak attack on my nipple.

I heard a feminine chuckle off to the right.  I knew 
they were there but I couldn't see them at the 
moment.  Securing my collar made it impossible for me 
to move my head much.  I was ironically grateful.  I 
didn't want to see them or their reactions. If I was 
going get through this, I had to concentrate solely 
on her.  Then I wondered if that's why she'd done it, 
to spare me from accidentally looking at them.

I felt a powerful surge of gratitude, and relaxed 
marginally.  I'd be ok.  She'd take care of me. 
Scully always took care of me.  She had experience in 
this.  Jesus Christ!  She had experience in this!

As if reading my thoughts, her soft hand trailed down 
my chest.  "Relax, Pet," she said softly. "I know 
you're not used to an audience, but all you need to 
concern yourself with is giving me pleasure."

I whimpered again.  "Yes, yes, Mistress.  Please!"

Another chuckle.  I was already reduced to begging 
her.  My body was responding, conscious of the only 
thing that truly mattered, and that was the fact that 
it was being caressed and commanded by Scully.  I 
already felt consumed by the need pulsing through me. 
I'd do anything, say anything, just to have her touch 
me.

She reached down and grasped my cock, causing me to 
thrust forward as much as the restraints would allow. 
"Be still now, Pet," she warned.

"Yes, Mistress."  I struggled to remain still as her 
hand slid up and down in an easy rhythm.  She took my 
shaft firmly in one hand and used the other to slip 
the cock ring around the base.  I felt the clip slide 
into place and she tugged a bit, adjusting its 
tightness and pressing it back to be sure it was as 
far up as it would go.  "Ohhhhhhhhhh," I groaned as I 
felt my cock harden even further, the blood being 
trapped in my shaft.  I felt a heavy throb start up 
in the sensitive head of my penis.

"You can't cum until I tell you to," Scully 
instructed.  "Do you understand that, Pet?"

"Yes!  Mistress!" I said a heartbeat later, relieved 
that I hadn't forgotten a second time.

I felt the table begin to tip backwards and I tensed 
all my muscles.  It moved slowly though and I fought 
to relax as I was tilted back until I was nearly 
laying flat.  Scully was there suddenly and, in one 
fluid and graceful movement, her leg swung over my 
shoulders.  Oh Christ! She had removed her thong! I 
hummed deep in my throat, seeing the damp, smooth 
skin of her wet flesh so close to my mouth.  I 
inhaled deeply, smelling her arousal, and a long, 
rough moan escaped through my hungry lips.  Oh God.

Please. Please. Please.

XXXXXXXXXX NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX

"Pleasure me, Pet," she instructed calmly and lowered 
herself to my face.  The instant she made contact, 
everything else just faded away.  There was only her. 
Her flesh.  Her smell.  Her taste.  I dove in, 
burying my nose in the fragrant, soft petals of her 
sex.  I couldn't use my hands, which was frustrating, 
but I extended my tongue as far as it would go and 
jabbed into her entrance.  I heard her breathing 
speed up as she adjusted herself a little bit, 
tipping her hips forward.  I knew what she wanted.

I lashed at her clitoris with my tongue as fast as I 
could until she was cooing, "Ooo, ooo, ooo."  Then I 
lapped my tongue over her bud and sucked it gently 
into my mouth.  She said, "Yes, that's it, that's it, 
Pet.  Right there."

At the sound of her throaty words of approval, I grew 
almost delirious with lust.  I groaned and sucked 
harder, letting my tongue slip out and lick the musky 
essence from her opening every few sucks before 
returning to her clit.  "Harder, suck harder!" she 
demanded.  I began to grunt helplessly in the back of 
my throat with every thrust of my tongue.  My hips 
were moving again, bucking against my restraints, my 
lower back arching off the board, blindly seeking 
desperately for stimulation for my cock.

I sucked harder and harder and then felt her thighs 
begin to vibrate.  My eyes actually rolled back in my 
head.  Fuck!  She was going to cum.  Oh God, she was 
gonna cum!  She shouted, "Yes, that's it!"  She 
pumped hard against my mouth as her body went rigid 
above me and the spasms overtook her.

XXXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX

I was panting heavily and my cock was throbbing by 
the time she dismounted my face.  She raised the 
board up again and began unfastening my cuffs and 
collar.

I felt dazed.  Dizzy.  'Was it over already?' I 
wondered.  I was shocked to realize that I didn't 
want it to be.  Then I glanced to the right and saw 
our audience staring and waiting and grew almost sick 
at the sight of them.  I had lost myself so 
completely in the experience that the reality of 
their presence left me slightly disoriented.  Jean 
Luc raised an eyebrow at Scully, which she ignored, 
as I fought to keep my focus on her.  Then she said, 
"Over to the horse, Pet, face down," she commanded.

Confusion washed over me.  I felt conflicted.  Part 
of me felt ashamed by how relieved I was to hear her 
give me more instructions.

"MOVE!"

"Yes, Mistress," I replied softly and dropped to the 
floor without her having to tell me and crawled on 
all fours to the horse and slithered my body up onto 
it.

She touched my neck after refastening my cuffs to the 
padded 'horse', which left my ass and genitals 
dangling off the end.  I realized I was in the same 
position as the man we had been watching and I 
groaned involuntarily.  She said, "Do you need to use 
your safe word?"

This was not happening.  Oh fuck.  "No, Mistress."

"Good.  You did well pleasuring me, Pet."

I moaned at the words, currents of arousal coursing 
through me.  My bones hummed with it.  "Thank you, 
Mistress," I replied automatically, as tears of 
gratitude stung my eyes.

"But you won't be rewarded yet.  You know you were 
bad before.  Weren't you, Pet?"

My chest heaved.  "Yes. Yes, Mistress," I choked out.

"You need to be disciplined for that.  Do you 
understand?"

I groaned loudly.  "Oh God. Yes, Mistress. Oh God."

She placed a black silk blindfold across my eyes and 
then I heard her walk away.  I tilted my head in 
every direction, trying to get a sense of where she 
was in the room.  I could hear the distinct sounds of 
her rummaging through her bag and felt heat spread 
through me.  I heard her approach and there was 
silence.  I tensed, not knowing what she was going to 
do.  Anticipation burned like fire in my veins.  She 
waited until I took a deep breath and relaxed my 
body.  That's when the first blow came.

"Ahhhh!" I cried out as the rubber covered paddle 
landed on my right butt cheek.  The sting was 
immediate, heightened by my stimulated state.

"Count them for me," she instructed.

"One!"

Whack! "Ahhh, two!"

Whack! "Ahhh, three!"

Whack! "Ahhh, four!"

I tensed my ass for the first few cracks before 
thinking 'Scully would never hurt me, not really'. 
The truth of this thought opened up something inside 
me.  I gave into it then.  I relaxed.  My ass cheeks 
bounced with more vigor and she hit me even harder. 
This went on for twenty cracks of the paddle.  She'd 
hit each cheek ten times and I could feel them 
burning from the abuse.  I knew they must have been 
flaming red.  Hot tears tracked their way down my 
face, more from the embarrassment than the pain.  It 
did hurt, but it was fucking incredible.  Humiliation 
at being watched washed through me at the thought, 
yet the realization of how stimulated I was, was 
driven home as she ran her fingernails over my 
reddened cheeks lightly and I cried out again, "Ohm, 
God!"

I loved it.  Fucking loved it!

I heard a breath hiss between her teeth.  She must 
have realized it, too.  She reached down and stroked 
my shaft a couple of times.  "Still hard.  Good, 
Pet."  

I didn't respond, still gasping for breath.  Scully 
was touching my cock!  I was being unshackled again.  
My cock throbbed and was beginning to ache with the 
pressure of being so hard for so long.  Twenty 
minutes must have gone by already.  I didn't think 
I'd ever been this hard or this aroused.  She removed 
my blindfold and then said, "Stand up and turn 
around."

XXXXXXXXXX NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX

I did, my legs shaking.  I looked down at my cock.  
It was standing nearly straight up.  It was red and 
angry looking and swollen to the max.  Pre-cum was 
oozing steadily out of the tip.  She stood before me 
and flicked her finger over the head and my hips 
bucked.  Scully and our audience both chuckled this 
time.  Instead of tasting it like I thought she was 
going to, she held her finger up and said, "Taste 
yourself, Pet."

I sucked in a breath and swallowed heavily.  Then I 
bent down slowly and engulfed her finger in my mouth.  
I swirled my tongue around her tiny digit and tasted 
myself on my tongue.  It was musky and salty, but not 
bad.  It didn't taste nearly as good as she did, 
though.

In a peripheral way, I still knew we were being 
watched, but I wasn't overly conscious of it.  I kept 
my eyes on her, careful not to look at her eyes 
directly or let my eyes wander to our observers.  She 
smiled at me and with my head down, I raised my eyes 
and smiled back at her.

Was she enjoying this?  God, please, let her be 
enjoying this.  It was hard to be certain.  She was 
so controlled.  I was in awe of her sure motions and 
confident sounding voice as she gave me instructions. 
She'd even come without losing any of her air of 
authority.  She was amazing!  Under these 
circumstances, it was even more unbelievable.

She reached down and the palm of her hand smacked my 
cock lightly, making it bounce up and hit my stomach 
and fall back down.  I hadn't expected it and I cried 
out, "Oh Mistress!" I bucked my hips slightly.

"Stay still!" she barked.

She did it again, her light slaps increasing in speed 
and velocity, until my cock was snapping up against 
my stomach in a steady rhythm and I was crying out, 
"Oh Gaaa, Oh Gaaa, Oh Gaaaa," with every slap.  My 
balls were cringing madly and drawing up tight.  My 
cock was so inflated that the skin looked purple, 
strained.  My hands were fisted at my sides as I 
struggled to stay still and not pull away or buck 
into her.  It was maddening.

I have no idea how long this went on.  I closed my 
eyes and tipped my head back and just let the sounds 
come as she slapped me.  I heard her voice say, 
"Spread your legs."

I took a half a step sideways with my right leg and 
then she began slapping my balls, gently at first, 
then with increased vigor.  This produced the same 
results from me.  Without even realizing it, I was 
wailing, talking, and not hearing myself until she 
suddenly stopped and my words echoed in my ears.  "Oh 
Gaaaaaa.  Oh Mistress, please let me come, please let 
me come.  I'm so close, Oh my God, this is torture.  
Let me touch you.  Let me touch you! Please, 
Mistress!  PLEEEAAASSSEEE! LETMETOUCHYOU, 
INEEDTOCOMESOBAD!"

Her hand stopped abruptly and my head fell forward.  
I was panting and sweat was rolling down my face and 
neck to dampen my chest.  I fell to my knees, my legs 
spread, wanting so badly to touch myself.

"Look at me, Pet."

I was surprised by the demand.  I raised my eyes and 
saw her unlace the top of the bustier she was wearing 
and peel the leather back from her chest.  She 
floated to the ground in front of me, lying down on 
her back with her legs together.  "Come up here."

I clumsily crawled over her body.  Her hands were 
cupping her tits.  The nipples were pulled up into 
tight buds of arousal.  "Stroke between them," she 
said softly.

"Yes, Mistress," I said just as softly and realized I 
was still crying, although it was silent now.

"You can use your hands," she said.  

I was again unreasonably happy about that.  I wanted 
to touch her so bad.  At this point, I had forgotten 
all about our audience.

I gripped her breasts gently from the sides and 
pushed them together.  They were lush, and almost 
perfectly round.  They felt heavy and warm in my 
hands.  I held them still and began to stroke my cock 
between her mounds, groaning with every stroke, 
watching the red, angry head of my throbbing penis 
peek out from the tops of her breasts and nearly poke 
her in the chin.  "Ohhhhhwwwwhhhhoooaaaa, 
Ohhhhwwwwhhhoooaaaaa, Oh Mistress," I chanted 
quietly, a constant hum emanating from the back of my 
throat.

She watched me carefully as I stared at her breasts, 
increasing the speed of my strokes, seeking my 
release, but knowing I couldn't come until she told 
me to.  I couldn't help increasing the strength of my 
thrusts, my legs spread wide to straddle her little 
torso.  She gave a wonderfully sexy, little grunt 
each time I slammed forward. Then she leaned her head 
forward and her tongue suddenly darted out and licked 
the head of my cock each time it appeared.

"Oh Yeah, Oh God, feels so good!" I cried.  I 
realized several strokes later that I had forgotten 
to say, 'Mistress'.  Since she didn't notice, I just 
continued.

Finally, when I was nearly sobbing again with my need 
for release, feeling it surge up my shaft and be 
halted by the cock ring, she said softly, "O.K., you 
can come now, Pet.  Stroke yourself."

She slid herself up a little so that my cock was now 
hanging over her ribcage.  I grabbed my cock roughly 
and began stroking it so hard and fast, my hand was a 
blur.  "Ahhh, ahhh, ahhh, awww, awww, awww!" I 
grunted as I tried to find my release.  I wasn't 
coming and I was coughing and choking and sobbing 
again.

Before I saw her move, her hand was under my balls 
and I felt her fingers touch me briefly.  Then the 
cock ring was released.  The surge of pressure 
retreating from my shaft and then waving back up was 
unbearable and I screamed, "Miiissstttrrreeesss!"

I began ejaculating hard.  Long, thick ropes of cum 
shot out of my dick and sprayed across her stomach, 
her boobs and her neck.  "Oh God, I love you!" I 
cried out without thinking and realized I was still 
coming.  I'd never come like this before in my life.  
The release and relief was so tremendous.  I was 
shaking and still stroking my sore shaft as the last 
of my gigantic load dribbled from my cock and settled 
into her belly button.

I sat back, my sore butt cheeks resting on my heels.  
I could still feel them burning.  I panted heavily 
trying to catch my breath.  I dropped my shaking hand 
and felt my thighs quivering with the sudden release 
of tension.  All was silent in the room and then her 
voice cut through the silence.  "Kneel beside me, 
Pet.  Now!"

I jerked my head up but quickly averted my eyes and 
swung my leg over so that I was kneeling next to her 
rib cage.  She was supporting her torso on her 
elbows, which were bent and extended behind her so 
her head could be raised.  "Do you know what I want, 
Pet?"

"No, Mistress," I admitted.

"Clean me up, Pet.  You can't leave messes like this, 
unless I say you can."  For a brief moment my eyes 
met hers with astonishment at this request.  Was she 
really going to make me do it?  One look and I knew 
she was dead serious.  "Eyes down!" her voice 
cracked.

I quickly lowered my eyes and muttered, "Yes, 
Mistress."

"I didn't hear you," she reprimanded.

I cleared my throat and said in a loud, clear voice.  
"Yes, Mistress."

I leaned over her and began licking her body.  I was 
afraid it would make me sick, but surprisingly, I 
found it incredibly erotic to be sliding my tongue 
over her baby soft skin.  After the first few 
tentative licks, I went after her with enthusiasm, 
licking every inch of exposed skin and even suckling 
lightly on her nipples which made her moan under her 
breath.  When I was done, I sat back on my knees 
again and placed my hands on my thighs with my head 
down, staring at my now flaccid cock, which was 
sticky in its own right.

"Stand up," she instructed.

I did and she surprised me by going down on her 
knees.  "You did well, Pet.  I'm pleased."

I smiled broadly at the top of her head, gratitude 
flowing through me.  All I wanted was to make her 
happy.  It seemed so simple now.  Then I remembered, 
this was all an act.  Wasn't it?  Before the harsh 
reality of this could take hold, she reached up and 
delicately sucked my penis into her mouth, swirling 
her tongue around me and cleaning me off.  I sighed, 
enjoying the feeling of her warm mouth on my flaccid 
member, which was still extended and hanging heavy 
against my thigh.

XXXXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX

After a few perfect moments of euphoria, she stood 
and went to my bag.  I chanced to look at the others 
from under my lashes and saw them all leaning on the 
wall, silent, their mouths open, panting lightly.  I 
wondered if they were turned on, and suddenly wanted 
to smirk.  I didn't see how they couldn't be.  Both 
women's cheeks were pink and their eyes glassy.  Jean 
Luc shifted uncomfortably in his leather pants.  I 
stood there quietly as Scully returned with a wipe 
from my stash and cleaned my genitals, further 
checking for any residue.  When she was satisfied she 
tossed it in the wicker basket next to the door.

She turned to our audience.  "Can we have some 
privacy now?"

Jean Luc nodded and said, "Yes, you may.  Thank you 
for the demonstration.  You handle him well.  He 
isn't as willful as I thought."

Scully said nothing but nodded sharply.  They filed 
out of the room.  Before the door shut behind Margot, 
who was the last one out, we heard Mistress Haze say, 
"They aren't reporters, that's for sure."

Scully pulled her bustier into place and replaced the 
top portion, covering her breasts again.  I sighed as 
I put on my leather shorts, feeling sweaty and 
uncomfortable.

I looked up and smiled a shaky smile at her.  She 
smiled tentatively in return and didn't break eye 
contact for a long, thick moment.  I couldn't help 
wondering if I looked as changed as I felt. "We can 
drop out now," she said quietly.

"Drop out?" I repeated numbly.

"Of play mode," she answered, turning away from me 
and heading toward her bag.

I looked at her and then said, "Meaning?"

She didn't turn around. "It means we can use our 
regular names now. We aren't ... playing anymore."

"Oh, O.K.," I said stupidly after a slight 
hesitation, inexplicably still feeling the urge to 
say, 'Mistress'.  We aren't playing or we aren't 
'pretending'?  Which did she mean?  I decided not to 
ask if there was a double meaning there.  I watched 
as she carefully placed items back into her bag.

Her hands were shaking.

Fear began to burrow painfully into my chest.  I felt 
horribly insecure all of a sudden.  My stomach was 
somewhere in the vicinity of my toes.  The extremes 
my body had just been taken to had left me stunned, 
weak.  Perspiration beaded across my brow, and my 
heart pounded against my ribs.  For one agonizing 
second, the silence in the room threatened to choke 
me.

I cleared my throat.  "Scully.  Scully, are you mad 
at me?"  It sounded timid and afraid.  And stupid. 
What a stupid question to ask her!  I couldn't help 
it.  She was closing off and I was terrified. "Did ... 
did I not do something right?"

Her hands froze immediately at my question.  Slowly 
she put down the item she was holding.  I watched as 
her chest expanded.  "You were perfect," she said 
softly, still turned away.

Automatically, I flushed at her words. "I ... I was?" I 
stammered.

She snatched up her bag and turned to me sharply.  
"Yes, Mulder, you were," she said thickly.  "And I 
can't do this right now."

She started to head directly for the door.  Panic 
seized me.  "What?  What are you doing?  You're just 
gonna go?  I, we, ..." I stuttered, feeling like a 
jackass.  Spit it out!

She faced me again.  "I need a shower."  She looked 
down.  "Mulder, please.  Just let this sit for a day.  
We can meet tomorrow to discuss the case."

"The case?!"  I almost spat at her.  "Don't you think 
*we* need to talk about what just happened?"

"Mulder."

"Don't shut me out, Scully.  Please."

She blinked rapidly and her eyes were suspiciously 
wet.  "Shit," she muttered.

I approached her carefully and watched as she 
stiffened slightly, straightening her back.  I 
stopped inches from her and looked down.  I sighed.  
"We need to talk, Scully.  If you walk away from 
having this conversation, it's gonna BURY us."

Her eyes grew wide.  "Mulder, we can't talk here."

"You're just avoiding."

"This isn't the place for this!"

"Fine.  I'll meet you at your place."

She nodded, looking defeated.  I didn't like seeing 
her defeated.  "Mulder, can't we just ..."

"No," I said firmly.  She looked up at me.  "We'll 
talk about the case tomorrow as planned."  She almost 
looked relieved for a second until I finished my 
thought.  "Tonight ... we talk about US."

She opened her mouth to say something and I put a 
finger to her lips.  She pressed them together.  I 
leaned down and kissed her gently on the forehead, 
grabbing my duffel bag and turning toward the door. 
"I'm gonna shower, too.  I'll see you in a couple of 
hours."

I opened the door and went out, not waiting to hear 
her protest.

XXXXXXXXXX
PART 10 (R) 
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT 
GEORGETOWN, D.C. 
THREE HOURS LATER

"I don't know why you came here."

He looked up at me from the couch, his mouth gaping 
slightly, and he shook his head.  "Right off the bat, 
Scully, let's just skip the bullshit, O.K.?  In light 
of everything that's happened today, I don't think I 
could handle our usual song and dance."

It was my turn to stare at him, speechless.  I held 
his teacup out to him and he took it quickly, 
reaching to set it on the coffee table without so 
much as a polite sip.  Obviously, he'd recognized it 
for the avoidance tactic that it was.  I'd hidden in 
the kitchen for ten very long minutes, trying by 
sheer force of will to keep the bags from brewing.

He reached for my cup, taking it from my numb 
fingers, and sat it next to his.  He moved over 
tentatively on the cushions. "Come on, Scully.  Sit 
down."

For one fleeting second I seriously debated jumping 
out of my window.  Instead, I sat rigidly onto the 
couch, as far from him as I could get, yet knowing I 
could secure a seat on the space shuttle and it 
wouldn't have taken me far enough away.

He leaned forward slightly, running his hands 
nervously across his thighs. "Do you want me to 
start?"

I let out a huff of breath.  "Oh, for God's sake, 
Mulder.  Why are you insisting we make an already 
uncomfortable situation worse by talking about what 
an uncomfortable situation it was?"

"You didn't seem the least bit uncomfortable in what 
you were doing.  In fact, I'd go so far as to say you 
were in your element."

"That is *not* my 'element', Mulder, and if you came 
here to insult me on top of everything else, just 
leave," she said fiercely.

"Why does that have to be an insult?" he asked, 
cutting me off.  I could hear the challenge in his 
voice.  "Are you saying you were offended by what we 
did?"

"Of course I was!" I practically yelled, so afraid 
he'd realize that I didn't mean it.

The words echoed against the walls and he fell 
silent.  After a long pause, he turned toward me.  
"No, you weren't," he whispered.

I looked down, unable to meet his eyes.

"Tell me the truth, Scully," he said softly.  "God, 
after what happened, don't I deserve it?"

My eyes grew wet.  "Don't *I* deserve to maintain 
some dignity?"

"Oh, Scully."  The tenderness in his voice caused me 
to finally meet his gaze.  I felt a tear slide down 
my cheek.  He reached out his hand and slowly traced 
its path with his finger.  "Don't do this.  Don't 
assume you know what I'm thinking and feeling about 
this."

"I'm not," I countered immediately.

He dropped his hand and sat back.  "Yes, you are.  
Already you're certain that I think less of you 
somehow.  Don't you?"  He looked me in the eyes 
intently.  "I don't, Scully."

"Yeah, sure you don't, Mulder," I said sarcastically.  
"You're going to sit there and try and tell me that 
you see me exactly the same way right now as you did 
this morning when we first walked into the club?"

"O.K., I admit to being surprised by you."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice carrying a 
touch of defensiveness.

"I just never thought you'd like this sort of thing," 
he began.  He held my gaze.  "I mean, I don't know a 
lot about your past, Scully."

"I never intended for you to find out."

"What?  That you've done it before?" he asked 
carefully.

I stared at him and didn't answer.  "Can we please 
not have this conversation?"

"Why? Scully, it doesn't offend me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He ran his fingers through his hair.  "It's not 
supposed to *mean* anything.  I just don't want you 
to think that I didn't ... that I wasn't ..." he trailed 
off and dropped his head forward and sighed deeply. 
"Never mind.  Maybe you're right.  Maybe we shouldn't 
talk about this."

We sat in silence for a long minute.

His words from earlier began to echo in my head.  *If 
you walk away from this conversation, it's gonna BURY 
us.*  He was right.  It would.  It was already 
starting to.  If there was any hope of salvaging what 
was left of our partnership, I had to tell him the 
truth.  I had to be honest with him, and let the 
chips fall where they may.

I took a deep breath.  I felt his attention shift 
back to me, but I couldn't turn to face him.  
Instead, I kept my eyes forward. "You're right, 
Mulder," I began quietly.  "I have done it before."

I heard him swallow.  "When?"  I could detect the 
slight tremor in his voice and realized instantly 
what he was thinking.

"It was a long time ago, before we met each other."

"Were you active?"

I turned to him.  "What?  In the lifestyle?"

He nodded.

"Yes."  His breath left him and he closed his eyes.  
I searched his face for some clue as to how he was 
feeling and was surprised to notice his bottom lip 
trembling.  He bit it hard and breathed harshly 
through his nose.  "Mulder?"

"Just give me a second."

Dread washed through me.  "I'm sorry.  You said you 
wanted the truth.  I didn't want to lie."

"No.  No, Scully, it's not that."  He turned toward 
me again, his eyes opening.  It was my turn to lose 
my breath.  His pupils were dilated, his eyes almost 
black.

The flush on his face caused corresponding warmth to 
flow through me.  "You aren't the least bit bothered 
by this, are you?"  It was a rhetorical question.  
I licked my lips.  "Just shocked, maybe?"

"Not even shocked.  Like I said, I'm surprised, but 
that doesn't mean it's a bad surprise.  It doesn't 
mean I think less of you.  In fact, I'm in awe.  
Completely.  I just never imagined this."  He 
stopped, and looked down.

"What?  That I could do those things to you or that 
you would like it?"

His eyes blazed to mine.  "Both," he said, his voice 
as rough as sandpaper.  "I don't really have any 
experience with what we shared," he finished, 
swallowing convulsively.

"You're a natural."

His eyes closed again.  "Thank you."  He took a deep 
shuddering breath and added, "Mistress."

"Mulder, NO.  Things are complicated enough now as it 
is."

He opened his eyes.  "Why?  Why do they have to be so 
complicated?"

I looked at him.  "Mulder, my past," I began, taking 
a steady breath.  "It was a long time ago.  I entered 
into it because it met a specific need in me then."

His eyes searched my face.  "And you think those 
needs are no longer there?  If that's what you're 
trying to tell me, then I think you need to look a 
little deeper.  I've known you a long time, Scully, 
and in all that time, I've never seen you so ..." he 
trailed off, waving his hand in frustration.

"Up close?" I snickered.

He grinned as his cheeks flushed pink.  "Well, yeah. 
That, too."  His expression grew serious.  "I was 
going to say, I've never seen you so comfortable.  
You are the strongest person I know, Scully, but 
sometimes I think that strength can be an albatross 
for you.  It demands so much from you.  Your 
expectations for yourself are so high, but in that 
room, it was like being able to focus that strength 
and control so completely freed something in you.  
You were ... magnificent," he whispered.

I swallowed and looked down.

"How long ago was the last time?" he asked softly.

"Just after I graduated from Quantico," I answered, 
still not looking at him.

"Why did you quit?"

I kept my eyes down.  "I don't know.  I guess my 
needs changed.  I changed."

"You didn't miss it?"

"I kept myself focused on other things," I replied, 
knowing he'd see right through my evasive response.

I finally met his eyes and could see disbelief 
swimming in them.  "You aren't the least bit 
interested in it?" he coaxed.

"What?  Reentering the lifestyle?"

"Me.  Interested in me?"

I looked away from him.  "What are you saying, 
Mulder?  It's what you want?"

He nodded his head yes, but it was tentative.  He bit 
his lower lip.  "I think it's something you still 
crave.  I'm willing to give it to you," he said.

My brows pulled together.  "What?" I asked, my tone 
breathy.

"Control."

I trembled at the word, but more from the offer 
behind it.  "Mulder, you don't know what you're 
suggesting.  I wouldn't want you to give it to me 
just because you think I want it or need it.  It 
would have to be something YOU wanted for yourself.  
I don't think you understand the full implications of 
what you're saying or suggesting."

"I know *exactly* what I'm suggesting.  I'm not 
deluding myself that it'll be easy.  But ..." he 
trailed off.

"You need it, too," I said softly.

"Yesssss," he hissed.  "I'll do anything, Scully.  
Anything to be with you, but it's more than that."

Oh my God.  He meant it, too.  I felt a dull throb 
start deep in my sex.  "God, Mulder."  I wanted so 
much to believe him, that this was something he 
really wanted, but part of me was too afraid to just 
accept it.  "If we weren't on this case, if you 
hadn't been forced into this," I began.

"You think I'm only having these feelings because of 
this case?"

I nodded.  "Yeah, I mean, I wouldn't blame you.  It's 
a very intense atmosphere that provokes powerful 
physical and emotional responses.  Maybe right now, 
you're still feeling the aftermath of that."  I 
paused.

"Scully," he cut me off.  "It's not just the case. 
I've always thought about it.  I just never knew how 
to ask for what I wanted."

I looked at him steadily.  "We've crossed a serious 
line in our relationship, Mulder.  But if it stays 
crossed, we need to discuss parameters."

"I know.  I just know I can do this, Scully ... for US 
... if you'll help me."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Positive."  Tentatively, he reached out and took my 
hand.  "Please, Scully."

I turned to face him more fully.  "We have to take 
this slow, O.K.?  I mean, I know it's a little late 
in some respects, but we can't confuse our own issues 
with this case.  Once this is over, maybe we could 
try," I said, struggling to explain what I thought 
was best.

He nodded and let go of my hand.  He was silent for a 
long minute.  "Are we all right, Scully?  You and 
me?"  I could hear the fear and hesitation in his 
voice.

I nodded.  "Yeah, I just need to think about things.  
It's all happened so fast."

"I know.  I never meant for this to happen."

"No, Mulder. *I'm* the one that set us up for what 
happened today.  I should've had the decency to at 
least *ask* you first."

"It may not have been the best of situations, but I'm 
not sorry to have shared that with you.  It was 
amazing.  I regret the circumstance, but not the 
actions themselves.  Does that make sense?"

"Perfect sense," I smiled at him.

"I was afraid that you only did it because of the 
circumstances.  I was afraid, still am, that you 
don't have genuine feelings for me outside the sexual 
arousal of the situation."

"Oh, Mulder.  Of course I do.  I just didn't expect 
to confront them like this.  Maybe it's just that it 
all feels so sudden."

"Is it?  Sudden, I mean?  Think about it."

"Well, I know we've had our tense moments."  

He chuffed out laughter and I stopped.  "I've tried 
to show you, Scully.  I'm not the best at expressing 
myself sometimes, but I've tried to show you a 
thousand times."

My mind flashed with images.  Antarctica.  My cancer.  
Emily. Pfaster.  Modell.  All those times when it was 
so obvious that he valued my life above everything 
else, even the truth.  After a moment, I nodded my 
head in agreement.  "I guess you have told me, in a 
lot of ways."  I paused.  "Can you give me some 
time?"

"All the time in the world, Scully."  He stood up and 
reached out his hand.  I took it, and we walked 
wordlessly to the door.  I stepped into him, my hands 
going to his face.  I tugged gently and he lowered 
his head, letting me lead.  I gave him a closed 
lipped smile and then kissed him softly.  He waited 
to feel my tongue before he engaged mine.  Then I 
suckled gently on his bottom lip and he hummed with 
pleasure.  Finally, I pulled back and said, "We're 
all right, Mulder.  I just need to get some things 
straight in my head."

"Let me know when you do, huh?" he asked mildly.

I smiled again.  "I'm supposed to be the 'together' 
one."

"You are.  I'm all over the map most times concerning 
most things.  Except when it comes to you, Scully. 
Then I know exactly where I am, what I want.  You're 
my constant.  I feel the safest, the most complete 
when you're with me.  My feelings for you are the one 
thing I never doubt."

I opened my mouth, wanting to respond to this but was 
too stunned by the openness of his words.  Instead, I 
lay my head on his chest for just a moment.  His 
hands caressed my back, then dropped.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," he said, drawing away 
and opening the door.

I watched him until he stepped into the elevator.

XXXXXXXXXX
PART 11 (NC-17) 
FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT 
42 HEGAL PLACE 
ALEXANDRIA, VA

There was no mincing words on this one:  Holy shit on 
a shingle!  Scully, *my* Scully, was a Domme.  Or had 
been.  HO-LY SHIT!  My mind was racing with all of 
the information I'd acquired today, and not just 
about Scully, although that was the most shocking of 
the revelations.  There'd been a few about myself as 
well, but I'd get to those later.

Straight-laced, button-down, by the book, SCULLY?!?

After very little contemplation, though, I realized I 
should have seen it before.  She was perfect for it.  
She had an over the top need for control and order.  
It was one of the first things I'd noticed about her.  
She'd always derived a great deal of strength from 
it.  For her, it compensated for what she saw as 
inadequacies in her size and the impression she made 
as a woman in the male dominated world of the FBI.  I 
guess I just never imagined *how* she met that need 
before joining the Bureau.

I wondered, for about the millionth time since I'd 
left her apartment, how long had she done it before? 
Who were her partners?  How had she found her way to 
it?  These were questions I wanted answered but 
hadn't dared ask at the time.  It was too new and her 
admissions were hard won.  I hadn't wanted to push my 
luck.

It didn't take me long to figure out during our 
encounter that this was NOT the first time she'd done 
it.  She was way too quick with the instructions, way 
too confident in her bearing and she pulled off our 
little show with a little 'too' much aplomb to be a 
novice.  I was whirling in my own emotions and 
sensations afterwards.  As soon as the brain fuzzies 
from my post-coital state disappeared, it was clear 
to me that Scully had more secrets than I'd realized. 
She'd managed very effectively to pull off that 
little show and still avoid intercourse.  I had to 
commend her, although I would have loved nothing 
better than to sink my raging hard on into her petite 
body and fuck the shit out of her.

Was I bad?
 
Then again, when that happened, I wanted to be alone 
with her.  I wanted no audience and truth be told, I 
wanted it to be outside the club.  Here in my 
apartment or in hers where there would be no pressure 
to perform, no hidden agendas.  I swallowed hard 
against the lump in my throat as I realized how 
little I really knew of the private Scully, and how 
very much I wanted to know *everything*.  All her 
little secrets were within arm's reach and if I had 
my way, I was going to be privy to each and every one 
of them.  I *had* to know now.  I'd always thought I 
knew her so well.  I couldn't deny the kernel of hurt 
inside that she had kept this all hidden from me.

She was the expert here and that blew me away.  I, 
however, was a complete novice.  Despite having 
watched plenty of those videos I didn't own that 
depicted scenes of a fetish and D/s nature, I'd never 
engaged in the practice myself.  Even with Phoebe, 
who'd liked it rough and liked control, I'd never 
actually stepped into the arena of D/s.  It was more 
like she was the boss and decided what we were going 
to do, how we were going to do it, and I was so 
whipped, I went along gleefully for the ride, no pun 
intended.

This situation with Scully was a whole other matter.  
I'd wanted a romantic and/or sexual relationship with 
her for so long, I couldn't remember ever NOT wanting 
one with her.  Although I'd had my fantasies, most of 
them were fairly pedestrian.  Scully would probably 
be surprised if she knew how sedate my fantasies 
were.  Candlelight and soft music, us naked on a bed, 
me making slow, hot, passionate love to her in every 
position I could imagine.  Not completely mundane, 
no, but *tame* in comparison to what our first sexual 
experience had turned out to be.

Don't get me wrong.  I didn't mind it rough.  I 
wouldn't mind a good old-fashioned hard fuck now and 
again, but I was unsure if a steady diet of it would 
suit me.  Then again, if it was Scully on the menu, I 
think my tastes would adjust.  Fuck me, when I 
thought of her now, I felt this intense rush race 
through me just from remembering the sound of her 
voice when it took on that authoritative tone.  
Velvet over steel was the best way to describe that 
sultry alto.  I shivered just remembering her saying, 
'You did well, Pet.'

Pet.

It fit surprisingly well.  I *was* her pet in many 
ways.  I was devoted, loved her unconditionally, and 
would do anything she wanted to maintain this 
newfound intimacy.  She said I was a 'natural' and I 
blushed here in the privacy of my own apartment 
remembering how her praise had made me feel so 
special.  I *wanted* to be a natural when it came to 
pleasing her.

With a jolt of realization, I remembered my 
conversation with Matheson, and suddenly felt like a 
chump.  He hadn't asked for our assistance because of 
me at all.  It had been because of Scully all along. 
Somehow, some way, Matheson knew of Scully's 
background in the life style.  I felt rage well up 
inside me at the idea that my trusted benefactor had 
used us this way, but maybe, he saw something in the 
both of us that working this case was bound to bring 
out in the open.  The truth was, I was surprisingly 
undaunted by the circumstances that had brought about 
this contact with Scully.  Sure, I was worried that 
she had only done it for the case and there was no 
denying that it was indeed the catalyst.  However, 
Matheson was right.  He'd said I underestimated her 
and now I knew exactly what he meant.

Somehow *he* knew.  This left even more questions 
unanswered.  *How* did he know about her?  Had they 
run into each other previously?  Or, heaven forbid, 
had they ever been partners?  A roll of nausea washed 
through my gut at the mere thought of it.

I needed some answers.

I wondered if I could get away with calling her and 
decided against it.  She needed her down time with 
this as well.  I was hurt that she had never shared 
this with me.  Yet logically, I understood her 
reasons.  It was not a thing you would openly share 
with just anyone, but I wasn't just anyone to her.  

Was I?  Maybe she really had been afraid I would 
think less of her.  Or perhaps she knew, in her heart 
of hearts, that if she told me, I would've pursued it 
like a dog with a bone and she wasn't willing or 
ready to give me that much of herself yet.

I flopped down on the couch and stared at the blank 
TV screen, not really seeing anything.  For so long, 
I'd felt responsible for so many of the horrible 
things that had happened in Scully's life.  I'd lost 
count of the number of times I'd thought, 'If she'd 
only leave me,' or 'If she'd only not been sent down 
here.'  Intellectually, I knew these were worthless 
thoughts with no basis in reality. 

Reality was that she *had* been sent but she had 
CHOSEN to stay.  What did that mean?  I knew she 
didn't stay for benefits of being shot at, ditched 
and dragged into one insanely dangerous situation 
after another.  No, she stayed for me, because even 
when she didn't believe what I believed, she believed 
in me.

I felt tears sting my eyelids at this realization.  
She'd reaped all the liabilities of being my partner 
and friend, but precious few of the assets to balance 
it out.  To be fair to myself, she didn't allow 
herself to reap any type of benefits until now.  If I 
could give her this, satisfy this need in her that no 
one else could, would it in some way help me atone 
for all the heartache and sacrifices she'd made?

I thought it would.

Not to mention the benefits we'd both receive in the 
way of stress relief via sexual release.  I had 
another spontaneous erection at the memory of her 
pouty, plump lips wrapped around my shaft, her eyes 
sparkling with obvious pleasure at the taste of me.  
I groaned involuntarily.

Hey, I may be more sensitive than some, but I'm still 
a guy after all.  We couldn't help but think in those 
terms sometimes, even when love was involved, and I 
was in love with Scully.  That had never been in 
doubt.  Not for me, anyway.  She was less prone to 
jumping into situations with both feet.  I was used 
to taking leaps of faith to obtain something I 
wanted.  Where Scully was concerned, though, I'd 
always held back, and no wonder.  My relationship 
with her was precious to me and it was too valuable 
to take unnecessary risks with.

However badly she tried to deny it, Scully had 
feelings for me, feelings that went beyond 
friendship.  She was even more cautious than I was, 
though.  Even if she were aware of her needs, would 
they be enough to compel her to make such a drastic 
change between us?  Would she take a leap of faith 
with me?

Although I was happy to realize that Scully wanted a 
sexual relationship with me, I was still unsure if 
she loved me the way I loved her.  That was important 
to me.  I didn't know what the repercussions would be 
if I had to accept that it was just sex for her.  I 
also knew in my heart that there was no way I would 
refuse to participate in this with her, whether she 
loved me or not.  Honestly, that made me feel a bit 
pathetic.

I tossed and turned for over an hour, unable to 
sleep, frustrated, and unable to shut my mind down. 
Intellectually, yes, I understood it all.  
Emotionally, though, I was in complete turmoil.

XXXXXXXXXX
CACHOT DESIRER 
WASHINGTON, D.C. 
TWO DAYS LATER

We'd talked about the case as planned yesterday, and 
agreed that it was at a standstill.  We were on our 
own, and if we wanted to figure anything out, we were 
going to have to dig a little deeper despite the 
risks of getting caught.  Scully had left mere 
minutes before, hoping to finally get a look at the 
staff room.  When she returned, I was going to check 
out the men's locker room and the office if I could 
get close enough.  We had to find something!

The situation was starting to feel a little 
desperate.  More specifically, *I* was starting to 
feel a little desperate.  I was on about my tenth 
hard on for the day since we'd arrived a little over 
two hours ago.  Being in here with her, in this 
closed room, had been torture.  How was I supposed to 
stare at her in these outfits, look at all this 
bondage equipment and not want to throw her down 
somewhere and fuck her till her teeth rattled?!

My mind was out of control and wandered again into 
reminiscing about our little show for the powers that 
be at the club.  I unlaced my leather shorts, red 
this time, and pulled out my cock.  I couldn't help 
myself.

I lost myself in my masturbatory fantasies when the 
door suddenly flung open and Scully stood there 
looking flustered.  I tucked myself in and was on my 
feet in a heartbeat.  She tossed something at me and 
hissed, "Hide it."

I caught it, glanced at the tiny camera, and stuffed 
into the pocket of my shorts, just as I saw Margot 
appear behind her.  Scully stepped into the room and 
whirled around.  "Oh hi, again," she said.

Margot frowned.  Again?  She'd already run into her.  
Uh oh.  Did Margot catch her snooping?  There was no 
time for explanations. Margot said, "I'm really 
sorry, but I just checked in a couple that Jean-Luc 
had booked for this room.  We goofed.  I'd booked you 
and he booked these other people.  We're really 
sorry, but we need you to move to another room down 
the hall.  These people are long standing customers."

Scully swallowed.  "No problem."  She turned to me, 
looking like a trapped animal, but her voice was the 
soul of calm.  "Gather our stuff up, Pet."

I spun around and stuffed the few things we'd removed 
from the duffel bags back into them and zipped them 
up.  I hoisted one onto each shoulder and stood.  I 
glanced at her and then hung my head like a good, 
little submissive.

Margot said, "Follow me."  We followed her out into 
the hall, knowing that there had been no double 
booking and there was an ulterior motive for wanting 
us to go into the other room.  We entered where she 
indicated and Scully smiled at her.  "See you later.  
We'll be in here a while," she added.

I scrunched my eyebrows but didn't dare look at her 
until Margot left.  As soon as she did, I said, 
"What's going on?"

Scully slashed her hand across her neck and then put 
her finger to her lips indicating that I shouldn't 
talk.  I realized in an instant that we were probably 
in a bugged room.  I set the stuff down, and she 
opened her bag, pulling out her purse and removing a 
small pad and a pen.  She wrote in her distinctive 
print, [I'm sure she's listening.  Margot caught me 
in the staff area in the locker room.]

My eyes grew wide as I read.  Scully drew back the 
pad and scrawled quickly, [I told her I'd gotten lost 
looking for the bathroom.  I know she didn't believe 
me but she didn't argue.  Just told me the back area 
was for staff only and to return to my room.]

I nodded, to show I understood and put down my bag 
next to hers. In order to not sound suspicious, she 
said clearly, "Pet, remove all your clothes except 
the collar."

I glanced at her and smirked, wishing I was actually 
stripping for her benefit.  I started circling the 
room, checking all the equipment and finally, I found 
it.  It was held to the corner of a cold air return 
vent by a tiny magnet.  I pointed to it and Scully 
nodded, swallowing harshly.  I returned to her and 
wrote, [Should I destroy it?]

She wrote, [No, too suspicious.  She'll be 
listening.]

I took the pad and wrote, [What do we do?]

Her eyes wandered to the equipment, and I watched her 
steadily.  I tapped her shoulder, then scribbled, [Do 
we need to put on another show?]  I wondered if it 
were possible she'd read how hopeful that sounded.

She sighed, [Are you O.K. with that?]

I responded, [Of course.]  Somewhere in my mind, my 
libido high-fived my id.
 
Softly, she said, "I'd wanted more time."

I leaned down and put my mouth to her ear, noticing 
the tiny shiver she tried to suppress and secretly 
relishing the thought that I could cause such a 
reaction.  "We're going to ride this train wherever 
it takes us, Scully.  You know it and I know it, so 
let's not over-think it, all right?"  She nodded and 
I said, "What do you want me to do now, Mistress?"

She gasped quietly and sat down on the bench behind 
her.  I removed my shorts and vest, and stood before 
her naked except for the collar.  Her breathing 
increased and I watched her breasts rise and fall 
with each heavy breath.  She reached for my cock, 
which was fully erect, just from undressing in front 
of her.

I groaned as she stroked it slowly.  "Very good, Pet.  
You're already so hard, so eager to please me," she 
said.  I didn't know if she meant it or if it was for 
the benefit of the bug.

She leaned forward as I stood in front of her, 
spreading her legs.  I stepped closer and said, 
"Please, Mistress," in a clear voice, certain the bug 
would have little difficulty picking up the plea in 
my tone.

She licked her lips and I moaned loudly.  "I'm 
hungry, Pet."  Her mouth opened and hovered just 
millimeters from my flesh.  I watched, entranced, as 
a large drop of precum balled at my tip.  She smiled 
at the sight.  "That looks good enough to eat."  Her 
hot breath puffed against me and I lost it, jerking 
toward that pouty mouth, desperate to feel those lips 
wrap around me.

She drew back.  I knew immediately that I'd messed up 
big time.  Her eyes sparked.  "I'm--I'm sorry, 
Mistress.  I'm sorry.  I just want you so much.  I'm 
sorry."  I knew I was babbling, but couldn't help it.  
I was so aroused and my control was wavering 
dangerously.

She stood slowly, and walked around me.  For a split 
second, I almost reached for her.  Fuck!  I was so 
close to losing it.

"Drop to your knees.  NOW!"  The steel in her voice 
cut me to the core.  I felt my legs instantly give 
out from under me and I dropped to the floor, my 
hands balled into fists at my sides.  "Obviously, I 
need to help you focus, Pet."

"Yes, Mistress," I whimpered.

"Crawl to the horse, bend over it and spread your 
legs."

I felt myself throb at her words.  I fell to my hands 
and knees at once and did as she'd asked.  I spread 
my legs wide, and groaned in anticipation.

From somewhere behind me, her even voice drifted 
toward me. "Keep your head down and don't move."

"Yes, yes, Mistress."  I fought the urge to buck my 
hips into the leather under me.

"If I didn't know better, Pet, I'd say you misbehaved 
on purpose."  I heard the distinct sound of her 
unzipping the bag.  "That was either very brave or 
very stupid.  If you wanted to be punished first, you 
could have asked nicely and if it had pleased me, I 
would've done so.  Now though, I have to teach you 
some manners."

I panted heavily at her words.  She was right.  Maybe 
I had done it on purpose.  Subconsciously testing my 
boundaries.  I'd wanted it deep down, but still 
didn't know how to ask.

She approached and stood directly behind me.

XXXXXXXXXX NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX

"Do you realize how vulnerable you are to me like 
this, Pet?"  She emphasized her point by pulling my 
butt cheeks apart slightly.  I moaned as she trailed 
a finger between them, tears wetting my face with the 
realization of what was probably about to happen.  

"Don't be afraid," she cooed, reaching around to 
lightly stroke my swollen shaft.  "Your body knows 
what you want.  And so do I."  She moved her hand 
back and circled my anus with her fingertip.

"Oh God! Oh God! Mistress!"  Sweat began to bead 
across my forehead.  I was terrified.  I'd never done 
anything even remotely close to anal play, but it had 
always held a secret appeal for me.  I began to shake 
and sob uncontrollably.

I sensed her moving behind me, and gasped when I felt 
her hand begin to open me, her fingers spreading me 
wide.  I felt the tip of something cold and hard 
breach the puckered ring of muscle and I cried out. 
Gently she worked the invader in, a fraction of an 
inch at a time.  It was slender, probably no wider 
than a candlestick, but to my virgin flesh, it felt 
huge.  I groaned harshly with each slow, measured 
increase.  The pressure was extreme.  When I was 
certain I couldn't possibly take another inch, she 
finally ceased her press forward, the phallus halting 
it's maddening decent into my body.  "You wear this 
well, Pet," she said, a very slight trace of 
amusement in her voice.

The sudden, vivid image of what she must be seeing 
hit me; my tender flesh opened vulnerably, the 
vibrator jutting out from my body.  I felt 
humiliation suffuse through me and moaned when I 
realized how aroused that made me.  I was starting to 
understand what she was trying to make so perfectly 
clear: she possessed me completely.  She could do 
anything she wanted to me.

God help me, I was going to let her.

"Now, I'm going to let go of this, but under no 
circumstance are you to push it out or allow it to 
fall from your body.  Do you understand, Pet?"

"Yes! Yes, Mistress!"  Her hand dropped and almost 
immediately I felt the object begin to slide from 
inside of me, my body instantly rebelling against its 
presence.  I struggled for control and clenched down 
on it, holding it tightly within my flesh.

"Good, Pet.  That's very good.  Grip it tightly, and 
don't let it slip or I'll be very disappointed.  I 
own you here.  *I* say how your body responds, how 
much control you're allowed to have.  I take from you 
as I see fit.  I give to you as I see fit.  Repeat 
it, I own you."

"You own me, Mistress."

WHACK!

The blow came so swift and hard on my cheek that, for 
just a second, everything seemed to just freeze in 
its echo.  Then, the harsh burn blossomed deep in my 
skin.  I cried out, loudly, surprised and completely 
stunned by it.  Before I even realized that it was 
happening, I felt the vibrator begin to slip from 
inside of me.  I was seized with panic.  "FUCK!!!  Oh 
God!  Fuck!"

At just the last moment, I felt it her take it firmly 
in hand and push it back in.  I gritted my teeth and 
groaned from behind them.  "Keep it in, Pet!" she 
snapped sharply.  "This is staking my claim. It's 
there to remind you of who you belong to."

"YOU!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face.  "I 
belong to you, Mistress!  Only you!"

WHACK!

The sting exploded across the other cheek.  The 
phallus slipped just a fraction before I gained 
control over it, my muscle gripping hard in protest.

"Better, Pet," she said evenly.  "Are things becoming 
clearer to you now?"

WHACK!

"Ahhhhhhh!  Yes!  Yes!  Oh God!  Mistress!  Oh God!"

WHACK!

I felt my stomach slide forward a fraction from the 
force of the blow, my entire body now bathed in 
sweat.

"Say it again, now.  Who owns you, Pet?" she asked 
softly.

I could only sob incoherently.

WHACK!

"I asked you a question, Pet."

WHACK!

"Now answer."

"You own me, Mistress!" I groaned in a raw, torn 
voice.  "Oh God! You own me! You own me!"

My words echoed in the room, and then only my sobs 
filled the space.  She was quiet and still behind me.

A long moment passed as I slowly gained control over 
myself.  She remained passive behind me until my 
breathing started to even out, then I felt her take 
hold of the phallus again.  Very gently, she began a 
steady rhythm of easy thrusts.  Pleasure rippled up 
my spine.  Tears began again, but this time, they 
were silent.

She worked it until I began to grunt helplessly with 
each of her thrusts.  I moaned in a mixture of relief 
and disappointment when I finally felt it slip out of 
my flesh.

Her cool hands found my cheeks again, and she 
caressed them softly.  "Your punishment is over now, 
Pet," she said.  "Turn and face me."

My legs shook as I found my balance again.  I turned 
to face her, my cock huge and straining between us. I 
kept my eyes down, but found myself muttering.  
"Thank you, Mistress," I said, my voice breaking on 
the words.

"Oh Pet."  She slid down, landing on her knees.  
"This is so overwhelming right now for you, isn't 
it?"  I remained silent.  "Just trust that I'll take 
care of you.  You believe that, don't you?"

"Yes!" I sobbed.  Her moist lips slid slowly across 
my thigh. "Mistress?" I asked, afraid to believe that 
she might be about to do what I thought she might be 
about to do.

Her hand came up to cup my balls.  They were so 
swollen that they spilled off the sides of her hands.  
I moaned again and threw my head back as she began 
massaging me gently.  She let her head fall until her 
lips brushed the sensitive glans of my shaft.  My 
cock jerked and bobbed against her mouth as if 
begging in silent permission to enter.

Her hands gripped my hips then, and tugged at them.  
"On the floor, Pet."  I went down immediately and 
before I knew what was happening she'd pushed me over 
roughly onto my back and straddled my face as she 
moved her own head toward my straining cock.  I 
reached up and pulled the thin strip of leather away 
from her most precious place.

I groaned as I inhaled her scent.  My arms wrapped 
around her hips and my hands clamped onto her heart 
shaped ass.  Her mouth descended on my turgid flesh 
at the same time.  I yanked her lower and buried my 
face between her legs, diving into her folds.  She 
moaned around my flesh, sending vibrations over me 
that shot up my back like hot lightening.

She lifted off me and choked out, "Oh God, Pet.  Yes.  
There. There!"  Her mouth engulfed me again and the 
room was quickly filled with the sounds of our grunts 
and groans.

In an embarrassingly short amount of time, I could 
feel my climax coiling deep in my aching balls.  I 
fought not to buck into her face. "Mistress, gonna ... 
cum!" I warned her.  "Please!  Please!"

She grunted what I hoped was an affirmative response 
but did not let up bobbing on my flesh.  Her tiny 
hand was working the portion that couldn't fit into 
her mouth.  I dove for her clitoris, wrapping my 
tongue around it and then sucking it into my mouth.  
My fingers slid into her opening and began to pump in 
a corresponding rhythm.

She screamed around my flesh and I felt her inner 
walls clamp down on my fingers and vibrate.  She 
lifted from me long enough to demand, "Cum, now!" 
before closing around me again.  I ejaculated hard, 
helplessly bucking into her mouth.  She swallowed it 
all without a whimper and then proceeded to lick me 
softly.  She cleaned the residue as I did the same 
for her.  My fingers slid out of her hot, moist 
depths and I sucked her essence off of each one.

I collapsed, my head rocking back on the mat and my 
legs falling lifeless beneath her.  She sighed loudly 
and rolled to the right, landing on her side, on hip 
still propped on my rib cage, her face near my thigh. 
"You are fucking amazing," I whispered, leaving off 
the Mistress.

XXXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX

We were silent for a long time when I heard her say 
quietly, "We can drop out now."

I sat up and pulled her up to me, wrapping my arms 
around her waist.  She straddled my thighs as her 
arms went around my neck and she rested her chin on 
the top of my head.

I was still shaking, so I gripped her tighter, 
crushing her against me.  I doubt she was surprised 
when I began to sob again.  She lifted my face to her 
and smiled softly.  "Shhhhhhh," she cooed, kissing 
the wetness on my cheeks.

I think by that time, we'd both forgotten about the 
bug entirely.

XXXXXXXXXX
PART 12 (PG-13) 
WASHINGTON D.C. BELTWAY 
ONE HOUR LATER

"So let me get this straight.  Are you saying *that's 
what you have on that film?"  Though his eyes 
remained focused on the road, I could see them 
sparking at the thought.

I couldn't help but smirk.  "Well, I almost didn't 
get so lucky.  Ten seconds sooner and Margot would've 
seen that camera in my hand."

"How'd you find the room?"

"Sheer dumb luck, Mulder.  I thought it was a utility 
closet.  It wasn't marked in any way to indicate it 
was the staff showers.  There was a corresponding 
entrance from the male looker room."

"So what's the plan?"

"Drop me at the Bureau.  I'll get the film developed 
and printed and then meet you back at your place.  I 
think it may be wiser not to use the computers in the 
Hoover Building once we start punching in names."

He shot me a quick look, his eyebrows raised.  "Did 
you get much of a look at the lists?"

"Enough to know we could make enough money to retire 
on some tropical island and never be heard from again 
if we were so inclined as to sell it to the National 
Enquirer."

Mulder whistled.  "And you're sure each staff member 
had a list?"

"From the looks of it.  Even the members with 
partners seemed to be assigned to someone."

Mulder stepped on the accelerator.

XXXXXXXXXX
FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT 
THREE HOURS LATER

Mulder emerged from his kitchen, clutching two cans 
of soda and motioning me over to his desk.  "Come on, 
Scully.  Open the envelope, I'm dying to get a look 
at those lists."  He sat down and immediately began 
to boot up his computer.  "I'm using a program the 
Gunman installed.  Any inquires will be virtually 
untraceable."

I sat beside him, pulling my chair in closer to his.  
"We need basics, mostly.  I'd say profession is the 
most important," I said, pulling the enlarged black 
and white photos from the manila envelope I'd brought 
them in.  "Do you have an employee preference, or do 
we just go down the list?"

He typed a flurry of codes and then smiled when the 
screen went blank except for the words: ENTER NAME. 
"Start from the top."

XXXXXXXXXX

It was a long and tedious process.  Four hours into 
our search we were both beginning to think this too 
was going to be a dead end.  The most excitement we'd 
had over the names was Mulder's less than delicate 
observation that there was a Kennedy on the list, but 
no one would be all that shocked over the knowledge.

Not that there weren't some surprises.  A few names 
we recognized right away: Federal prosecutors, 
lobbyists, a couple of very affluent lawyers, and 
even one Supreme Court Justice.  Some of them came as 
quite a shock, and none more so for Mulder then 
finding Senator Matheson's name about a third of our 
way through.

"Why did he lie to me?" he asked.

"Truthfully, Mulder, I think it was to protect you."

"How so?"

"Well, think about it.  If you had known he was a 
member, you would have expected him to go covertly 
just to you for help, because he would have, by 
necessity, had to be extremely careful how to 
proceed.  By going through the official channels, he 
knew he could bring me in on the case and guarantee 
that you wouldn't try to solve it on your own just to 
protect him.  He trusts you, and he didn't want to 
put you in any unnecessary danger.  He knows me, and 
assumed, with good reason, that the undercover 
element of the case would go much smoother if he 
could send you in with someone familiar with the 
lifestyle."

Mulder was silent for a long moment, and I knew what 
was coming even before he finally got the nerve to 
ask, "Scully, how did he know? That you were 
'familiar with the lifestyle', I mean."

"We were never partners in the conventional sense, if 
that's what you're thinking."

His eyes grew wide.  "Define 'conventional sense'."

I sighed.  I had hoped we could have eased a little 
more slowly into all of this, but I owed him the 
truth.  He didn't need to feel as though Matheson had 
purposely deceived him.  In all honesty, I did 
believe the senator kept the knowledge to himself in 
order to protect me as best he could.  He wanted 
Mulder on the case because he trusted him completely.  
He wanted me on the case because he knew I was his 
best hope for infiltration.  He had no idea if Mulder 
was aware of my past or not, but realistically, it 
was a chance he had to take.  I may not have liked 
it, and Mulder may have felt a bit betrayed by 
Matheson's lack of honesty over it, but it had been 
the smartest route to go, and I was sure Mulder would 
eventually see it that way, too.

In the meantime, I knew I owed him an explanation.  
"Okay, let's take a little break from this for a 
second, O.K.?"  I stood up.

"Yeah, grab a couple more sodas while I punch in this 
next group, then we can talk while the names get 
checked."

I went to the kitchen and then made my way to his 
couch.  After a brief hesitation, Mulder followed.

I collected my thoughts for just a second, then 
decided to go for broke and just tell him everything. 
"Mulder, the senator and I were introduced a very 
long time ago through a mutual friend.  Someone I was 
involved with at one time."

I saw his jaw tighten.  "Go on."

"I had been in a very sticky relationship with a much 
older man.  It wasn't a good situation, to say the 
least, but I was in very deep and way over my head 
and saw no way to get out of it.  Among other things, 
this man was extremely controlling.  At the time, it 
was something I'd grown to associate with how men 
expressed their love for me.  I mean, my father was a 
wonderful man, more open with his affections than 
most, but he was 'Captain Scully' even at home.  I 
grew very accustomed from a young age to having my 
decisions made for me and not to question it.  

"As I grew older though, when men began to fill other 
roles in my life, I still handed the control to them 
without a second thought.  With Daniel, it was no 
exception."  I stopped for just a second, feeling my 
cheeks grow suddenly hot.

"Scully? What?"  Mulder's hand found mine and I 
gripped it before continuing.

"Mulder, I was so young, and so naive.  I'd only had 
one boyfriend in high school, and no others before I 
went to medical school.  Daniel was very commanding, 
and a highly regarded faculty member and heart 
surgeon.  He had a connection to every aspect of my 
education.  Where he said to go, I followed.  I was 
too afraid not to.  I didn't want to disappoint my 
father, or worse, have my mother find out the truth."

Mulder nodded in understanding.  "He was married."

I looked down.  "Yes.  The affair lasted for quite 
some time.  It wasn't until it was time to declare my 
specialization that I finally began to question the 
direction he was leading me.  Daniel knew that deep 
down I wanted to study pathology, but he decided that 
I needed to specialize in cardiology so that we could 
justify more time together.  Even after I challenged 
him about it, he still behaved as though it was just 
some whim of mine and eventually I'd come to my 
senses.  He *never* let up about it."

"You stayed with him?"

"I don't know if I would have had the courage to 
leave if I hadn't met Jack."

"Willis?"

I nodded.  "I knew him long before he was my 
instructor at Quantico.  We met by chance.  I was 
close to graduation and the FBI was recruiting 
students.  My grades were among the best, so 
naturally, I was one of their prospects.  It really 
interested me, so I wanted to learn as much as I 
could about it.  I knew Daniel wouldn't approve, so I 
began my own private investigation, without his 
knowledge, into what they had to offer.  One day, I 
met with their recruitment agent and toured the 
Hoover building, and afterwards, went out to the 
courtyard to eat lunch.  Jack was standing next to me 
in line for a hot dog."

"You're shitting me!"

"No, it's the truth.  *That's* how we met.  To make a 
long story short, we had lunch together that day and 
ended up becoming good friends over the next few 
months.  He took everything I said so seriously, and 
seemed so saddened by the fact that I had so little 
confidence in my own abilities.  He was the only 
person who encouraged me in my interest in the 
Bureau.  It didn't happen right away, but we grew 
closer."

"You left Daniel for him?"

"No, for myself.  Jack and I weren't lovers.  Not 
then, anyway.  The summer before I began Quantico, he 
changed my entire life.  You see, Mulder, I'd been 
controlled in every way possible up until then.  I 
had no real sense of my own capabilities as a person 
or as a woman.  When we first became intimate, Jack 
sensed this immediately.  He could feel me holding 
back, reacting only to the cues I was given by him.  
He could sense this because he'd experienced the same 
thing, only for him, it had been from the opposite 
perspective.  He had been the one who always had to 
be in control in his life, the one everyone looked to 
for directions.  He told me that he'd finally found a 
way to achieve a type of balance in himself and it 
had made him feel more complete than he'd ever felt.  
He'd become a sexual submissive.  He'd been active 
until we became intimate but said he didn't want to 
continue his involvement without my knowledge.  After 
he explained it to me, how could I possibly have 
denied him what had helped him so much?  Besides, 
God, I was so curious!  I wanted to know everything."

"So he started, what?  Taking you to clubs?"

I laughed a little.  "No, it took me some time before 
I got the courage for that, but he did introduce me 
to a Dom that he felt might be able to mentor me in 
the lifestyle."

Mulder's eyes grew wide.  "Matheson?!"

I nodded.  "He was our coach, for lack of a better 
word.  He and Jack were good friends, and tended to 
play in the same circles.  The clubs came later for 
me."

"So, while you went to Quantico," he prompted me 
slowly.

"I was active, yes, but only with Jack at first.  
Eventually I had other partners, too.  He understood.  
I mean, it was one thing to top someone I was 
comfortable with, it was an entirely different 
challenge to find my confidence for doing it with 
someone different.  Once I was able to, though, my 
need for it didn't seem as great."

"That's why you left the lifestyle?"

"No.  I enjoyed the lifestyle, but I wanted a set 
partner.  Jack needed something different.  For him, 
it was about giving over his will.  The more 
comfortable he was with his top, the harder that 
became for him.  It happens that way sometimes.  We 
just grew in different directions, I guess.  When it 
did end, it wasn't bad, just a mutual understanding 
that we'd gone as far as we were meant to."

"He really helped you."

I smiled.  "No, Mulder.  He helped me to help myself.  
I was finally able to take the control over my life 
that I'd always yearned for but didn't feel I had any 
right to.  Jack only encouraged me, and that made all 
the difference."

We were silent for a minute then I felt his hand 
under my chin.  "Thank you, Scully.  Thank you for 
sharing this with me."

I turned to him, surprised by the emotion I saw in 
his eyes.  "Mulder, I never meant to deceive you.  
Not intentionally.  By the time we met, I honestly 
did feel that I'd put it all behind me.  I tried not 
to think about it too much.  I think, even then, 
there was a part of me that was unwilling to admit to 
myself that I'd gotten off on it."

A short huff of laughter escaped from him.  "And 
now?"

I grinned mischievously at him.  "You said it 
yourself, Mulder.  The need was still there, I just 
didn't want to look deep enough to see it.  The 
difference now is that it's something I can choose to 
do for enjoyment."

The computer sounded from across the room, its search 
complete.  Mulder started to rise, but I tugged him 
back.  "Are you all right with all of this?"

He nodded.  "Yeah.  Scully, I feel closer to you than 
I've ever felt."  He leaned down and brushed his lips 
against mine before standing and making his way to 
the blinking screen.  I followed, still holding his 
hand.

We spent the next forty-five minutes matching 
professions to the names on the lists and then 
matching the names to the staff.  It didn't take long 
before we both started to notice a pattern.

Mulder spoke carefully.  "I need to contact Matheson 
and verify this last entry."

"If we move on this, we have to be very subtle.  This 
in and of itself proves nothing.  There's no motive."

Mulder nodded.  "At least not one that's visible.  I 
have a feeling this is politics in motion.  I need to 
check a few things out."  He got up and made his way 
toward the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to do some digging, and I need to use some 
unofficial channels to do it."

"Tell Frohike I said hello.  Call me at home once the 
dots are connected."

He grabbed his jacket, and turned back, catching my 
eye and smiling as he shut the door.

XXXXXXXXXXX
PART 13 (R )
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
LATER THAT MORNING 

Scully was listening while I talked to Matheson.  She 
had a hands-free option on her phone, and I'd put him 
on the speaker.

"So the next vote for the Tobacco bill is four days 
from now?" I clarified.

[Yes, Fox, and it's a critical vote.  The lobbyists 
for the tobacco industry are extremely powerful, as 
you can imagine.  However, we've managed to drum up 
the votes to oppose the bill.  It would lessen the 
regulations of the manufacturing process for tobacco 
and deregulate the fillers that are allowed, as well 
as reduce the necessary warnings that they need to 
put on the labels.]

"Is there one person that's on the fence?"

[Well, yes, as a matter of fact.  Randolph Perkins is 
the deciding vote.  He was on the fence, but I and 
some others have convinced him that the pay off will 
not be there if he endorses this bill.  We believe he 
will vote against it, but he's been tough.  He could 
still go either way.]

"Hold on a second, Senator," Scully chimed in.  Her 
fingers flew over her keyboard, which was now 
networked with mine, and she used the program the 
Gunmen had installed to type in the name Randolph 
Perkins.  His entire voting history on the Hill came 
up on the screen.

He'd been accused of taking money from the industry 
in the form of campaign contributions.

I talked as I read over Scully's shoulder.  "This guy 
is on the hook for campaign contributions.  Can he 
honestly vote against his financial supporters?"

[We're hoping he will.  His bowing down to the 
lobbyists and taking those contributions was a bit of 
a scandal a few months back.  His rating dipped 
tremendously with his constituents when it was 
reported.  We're hoping his desire to clean up his 
image and erase the conception that he is a hired gun 
will force his hand, and he will vote against them to 
prove something to the people of Indiana.] 

"What are the consequences if he votes for the bill?"  
Scully asked.

[He probably won't be re-elected.  As you know, 
that's the name of the game.  It's an election year, 
and everything's on the line. People are watching 
closely.]

I asked, "How pissed off will the Philip-Morris and 
Morley lobbyists be if he votes against this 
deregulation?"

There was silence.  [Pretty pissed off, I would 
guess,] he said, as if using the word 'pissed' was 
beneath him.  [Why?]

"He's a member of the club, Senator," Scully said.

[You've seen him there?] Matheson asked.

"Uh no, but we know who the members are," she said 
matter-of-factly, letting him know that we were now 
privy to his own membership.

[I see,] he said curtly, not sure how to respond.  
[How did you obtain this information?]

I chuckled, [Unconventional methods of 
investigation.]  I'd subtly told him we weren't going 
to divulge that information.  Matheson was sharp and 
realized he was better off not knowing.

[That would be sensitive information you have there, 
Fox.]

"Yes, I know.  However, you know where my loyalties 
lie, and I won't be irresponsible with the 
knowledge."  Sometimes this song and dance of 
communicating without saying things straight out was 
a pain in the ass.  I knew, however, that I couldn't 
come out and say certain things.  One, this was not a 
secure phone line.  Two, it would make this 
conversation extremely uncomfortable and I didn't 
want that at this juncture.

He cleared his throat, [So you think this person may 
be in danger? Do you have a suspect?]

"I might," I said cryptically.  "I'm not ready to 
commit yet, but Scully, do you have that schedule?"

Along with the membership list, she'd taken a picture 
of a calendar on the desk that contained the whole 
month's appointments.  She ran her finger down to 
today's date and gasped.  "Shit, Mulder."

She pointed to the name, Randolph Perkins.  He was 
due at the club in a half an hour.

"Senator?"

[Yes?]

"We have to go.  I'll call you later."

[What is it?]

"We'll call you later."  I punched the disconnect 
button.  Scully had cleared the screen and was 
trotting into the bedroom.  She emerged with our 
duffle bags in hand.  I snatched up the pictures of 
the membership list and the club schedule that Scully 
had developed at the lab and had blown up.

I nodded and without saying a word, we left the 
apartment, locking it behind us.  I slid behind the 
wheel, handed her the lists and nearly squealed the 
tires as I pulled out into street.  I had a bad 
feeling about this.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Scully asked.

"Probably.  I don't think we have a minute to spare.  
Is he on the schedule for any other day this week?"

She looked at the schedule.  "Nope, not scheduled 
again till next week."

"Then today's the day.  If our killer is going to 
make a move, today's the day."

She braced herself as I stepped on the gas.

XXXXXXXXXX
CACHOT DESIRER 
WASHINGTON, D.C. 
45 MINUTES LATER

We raced into the club and into the locker rooms to 
change.  We emerged and instead of returning to the 
desk for a room key, we began walking down each 
hallway and looking to see if we could spot the 
Senator.  He would have been here for nearly a half 
hour already if he'd been on time.

Scully stopped and said, "This is ridiculous.  We 
have to figure out what room he's in."

I raised a finger and turned left at another 
intersection, heading for the room I'd seen my 
suspect in before.

"Talk to me, Mulder.  What are you thinking?  You've 
figured something out, haven't you?" she whispered, 
as she followed along quickly behind me.

I stopped.  "I have no proof, just a feeling."

"Since when have you ever needed proof?" she teased, 
but she was serious about wanting to know what I was 
thinking.  "It's Maureen, isn't it?" she whispered.

I nodded.  "I think so, but nothing's certain."

"She was Senator Thompson's Domme," she whispered.

I nodded and put my finger to my lips, indicating we 
shouldn't talk.  I heard voices coming down the hall 
and we ran to the end of the hallway and jumped 
around the corner just in time.  I peeked and saw 
Margot and Jean-Luc walk by.  "They didn't go into a 
room," we heard Margot say.

We heard a wail from around the corner coming from 
one of the rooms we'd passed when we ran to make it 
around this corner.  We stood with our backs to the 
wall.  We were both wearing leather pants.  I was 
wearing a leather vest and Scully was wearing a black 
under-wire bra to match her pants.

Not a lot of room to hide things, but I stuffed my 
weapon into the back of my pants and was covering it 
with my vest.   Scully's pant legs were loose and she 
was toting a small derringer in an ankle holster that 
she carried as a back up when she thought she might 
need it.

"What the hell was that?" Jean Luc asked.

We heard their footsteps turn around and head back 
the way they came.  Hearing people yell or cry out 
was not unusual in this club, considering what went 
on here, but the rooms were sound proofed.  Unless 
someone had left a door open to create the illusion 
of an audience, you generally didn't hear it at all 
or it was greatly muffled.

A few seconds later we heard Margot say, "It's just 
Maureen's guest."  They continued down the hall back 
toward the office.  We waited several seconds and 
then emerged back into the hallway, making our way 
slowly toward the door that was open a crack.  I 
peeked into the doorway and then pulled my head back.  
I mouthed to Scully, "It's him!"

She nodded and shrugged, asking, 'What do we do now?'

Softly, I said, "We wait."

She nodded again and we leaned back against the wall, 
then moved slowly back away from the door and around 
the corner again so that we could talk softly.

"Jean Luc and Margot are suspicious already.  We 
should go get a room key," she reminded me.

"I don't want to leave," I whispered.

"Should we bring them in on this?" she asked.

"What if I'm wrong and it's not her and it's one of 
them?"

She scrunched her brow and said, "It would be 
ridiculous for them to risk their business that way."

"Stranger things have been done for money, Scully."

"You think it's a conspiracy between the three of 
them?"

"No, I don't.  But can we take the chance?"

She sighed softly, "Shit."  After a pause she said, 
"If we wait there, they are going to find us.  We've 
already been reprimanded for listening in."

"We could ask Maureen if we can watch."

Scully smiled.  "I never thought of that.  It's all 
right if the Domme gives permission."

"How's she going to pull off her move if we're 
watching?" I asked slyly.

"Yeah, but then we don't know if it's her or not," 
she reminded. "We need to know."

Now it was my turn to say, "Shit."

Scully looked up and down the hallway again and then 
said, "Let's take our chances outside the door."

I nodded, and we snaked back around the corner and 
carefully approached the door.  The hinges were 
toward me and I sidled up to the door, looking 
through the crack between the door and the jamb.  The 
door shielded me from Maureen's view.

I watched her play with the man unmercifully.  She 
tugged on his cock and ball harness, making him 
wince.  He was strapped to a board at the ankles and 
wrists, just as we'd been told Senator Thompson had 
been.  We'd never seen him, of course, but Matheson 
had said that was the way he was found.  We had to 
assume Jean Luc or Margot had given Matheson that 
information.

I watched as she pinched his nipples, whipped his 
legs and tied a parachute chord around his neck.  She 
suddenly came toward the door.  I jerked my head back 
and motioned Scully back down the hall.  We retreated 
as quietly as we could.  Maureen slammed the door 
shut, never having seen us.

"Shit, what now?" Scully whispered.

"We have to hear what's going on in that room," I 
said.

"It's the same room we were in the other day," she 
pointed out.

I turned to look at her.  That room had been bugged.  
We wondered if it still was.  I said, "We have to 
bring in Jean Luc and Margot, there's no other way.  
If it isn't still bugged, maybe we can get them to 
move these guys to a room that is."

"I know it's not the smartest move, but we don't have 
a choice.  You're right.  We have to bring them in ... 
and fast.  She could be making her move right now," 
Scully reasoned.

I nodded.  "O.K., I'll stay here and see if I can 
hear anything.  You go bring in Margot and Jean Luc."

Just then they appeared at the end of the hallway and 
Jean Luc said, "Bring us in on what?"

XXXXXXXXXX

I motioned to Scully to go talk to them and she 
ushered them quickly out of sight and toward their 
office.  I heard Margot say, "What the hell is going 
on here?"

I pressed my ear to the door and couldn't hear a 
thing.  I decided this was useless and trotted after 
Scully.  I caught up with them just as they entered 
the office.  I slipped in behind them and closed the 
doors.

"What the hell are you two doing sneaking around 
again?"

Scully nodded to me.  Margot was still too 
suspicious, focusing on Scully.  I spoke up, "Look, 
we don't have much time.  Is the room Maureen is in 
still bugged?"

"What the fuck do you mean, bugged?" Jean Luc said 
defensively.

Scully arched her brow and focused on Margot.  "We 
know it was bugged when you put us in there the other 
day."

"It was not!" she protested.

Scully sighed.  I broke in.  "Look, we saw the bug.  
We don't care about that, but we need to know if you 
removed it.  We're FBI agents.  I'm Special Agent Fox 
Mulder and this is my partner, Special Agent Dana 
Scully."

Jean Luc moaned audibly and muttered, "Oh God, we're 
fucked."

Scully smirked but then said, "We have NO time.  We 
think Maureen killed Senator Thompson.  Another vote 
is up in four days and guess who is the Senator 
casting the critical vote?"

They both looked at her blankly.  I answered, 
"Senator Perkins. You have to trust us right now. We 
were sent in by your contact in Washington.  The man 
you called when you discovered Senator Thompson dead.  
We need to hear what's happening in there."  I didn't 
really know if they had called Matheson directly so I 
hadn't used his name.

"Are you saying Maureen murdered Senator Thompson?" 
Margot said, incredulous.  "She was devastated."

"It was an act," Scully replied.

We stared at each other for a few seconds and I said, 
"Is it still bugged?  If not, can you move them to a 
room that is?"

Margot and Jean Luc exchanged a look.  Margot 
shrugged and Jean Luc raised his eyebrows and then 
sighed.  It reminded me of the silent communication 
Scully and I had.  I repeated Scully's admonition of 
earlier.  "We have NO time!"

Jean Luc nodded.  "Yeah, the bug is still there."  He 
turned and waved us toward him as he stepped to a 
panel behind his desk.  He slid a piece of paneling 
back and then pulled out a hidden drawer with a 
recording device and the other end of the listening 
equipment.  He switched it on and the sound burst 
into the room. He hit the RECORD button.

[Your supporters are very upset with you, Ronnie.  
Can I get you to promise to vote for this bill?]

{Ummmmmmphhhhhhh, aaaaaaaakkkkkkk 
ooooooouuuuuuufffffff}.

[No, I won't take the gag out.  You can nod yes or 
no, and that will be fine.]

Jean Luc and Margot exchanged startled glances.

{eeeeeeeasssssssssseeeeee}.

[Please, will get you nowhere.  Yes or no, Ronnie 
boy.]

{I aaaaaaaannnnnn'tttt.}

[Well, that's a damn shame, Ronnie.  You know that?  
Because Silverman has paid me a lot of money to take 
care of you.  Take care of you well, IF you agree to 
vote for his bill after he gave all that money to 
your campaign.  OR, to take care of you another way 
if you refuse.  It's not nice to go back on your 
promises, Ronnie.]

"Who's Silverman?" Margot asked.

Scully answered.  "Lobbyist for Morley Tobacco."

I hadn't even known the answer to that one but I 
probably could have guessed.

{eeeeeeeeeessssss}

[What's that?  Was that a yes?]

Silence.

Then a panting voice screamed, {Let me out of these 
cuffs, you fucking bitch!}

Maureen's easy chuckle floated into the room. [Not 
just yet.  Was that a Yes?]

{I won't be reelected if I vote for this bill and 
then what good will I be to them?}

[Doesn't matter.  You will have served your purpose 
then.]

{How can you work for those scumbags?!}

She laughed again. [Oh, you're priceless.  How can 
you take money from those scumbags?  You're a 
hypocrite, Senator.  Now, one last time.  Yes or no?]

{You don't care about the tobacco laws!  That's not 
what I come here for.}

[You're right, I don't.  But I do care about the 
$10,000 I was given to make you ... perform as agreed.]

{We're done here, let me go.}

[No, give me your answer.]

{Let me go, and I'll give you my answer.}

"That won't work," I muttered.

[I only look stupid, Ronnie.  I'm not.]

{Please Maureen.}

[That's Mistress Haze to you, darling.]

{Please, Mistress, let me go.}

[Answer me.]

The sound of a whip whistling through the air reached 
our ears.  The smack against skin made me wince and 
the Senator screamed.  {AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH, 
JESSSSSSUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSS!}

[What's your answer?]

{Nooooooooo, you fucking bitch!  Not again.}

We would never know if he was saying no to the whip, 
or no to the vote, because Maureen took it as his 
answer to her question.

[Well, then, Ronnie.  Game over.]

{What?!}

His muffled grunts sounded and Scully and I were 
already headed for the door.  "Key, I need the key!" 
I shouted.

Jean Luc and Margot raced after us down the hall.  
Fortunately, we weren't that far away.  By the time 
we reached the door, Jean Luc had his master key out 
and pushed past me to unlock the door.

Scully and I both pulled out our weapons and Jean Luc 
and Margot both gasped and stepped back from the 
door.  I ripped the door open and leaped inside, 
sliding to the left and leveling my weapon at 
Maureen, giving Scully room to come in behind me.  
She leaped in and slid to the right.

"FREEZE, FBI!"

I was closer to her and the cat of nine tails she 
held whistled through the air.  I dove out of the way 
but one of the leather straps clipped me in the ribs.  
Even through the leather it stung and I yelped.  
"DROP IT!" Scully growled.

Meanwhile, I glanced at the Senator and saw he 
already had cellophane wrapped around his head.  I 
dove toward him and the whip whistled again.  I heard 
a shot and Maureen screamed.  I heard her fall to the 
mat as my fingers closed on the cellophane and ripped 
it away from the Senator's mouth.

He was gagged and sucked in air, panting, "Oh, thank 
God!  Oh, thank God!"

Scully had 'de-whipped' Maureen by shooting out her 
shoulder. She now had her pinned to the mat on her 
stomach and was slapping on the cuffs.

She turned to Margot.  "Call an ambulance.  Don't 
call anyone else yet."

Margot nodded, looking white as a sheet and turned 
and left the room.  Scully sat Maureen up and propped 
her against the wall.  She turned to Jean Luc.  "Do 
you have a first aid kit?"

"Yes," he said quietly, seemingly as stunned as 
Margot.

"Get it," Scully commanded.

He turned meekly and left the room as well.  I was 
uncuffing the Senator from the board and helped him 
down.  Scully tossed me his boxers and I handed them 
to him.  He was glancing at Scully in embarrassment, 
but she was focused on Maureen.  I almost laughed 
when Scully said, "I told you never to touch my Pet, 
didn't I, Maureen?  You just don't listen very well, 
do you?"

Then she started reading her the Miranda Rights.  
"Maureen Hazel, you're under arrest for the murder of 
Senator Jack Thompson, and the attempted murder of 
Senator Ronald Perkins, for conspiracy to commit 
murder, assault with a deadly weapon, assaulting a 
federal officer, and taking bribe money for the 
commission of a crime.  Anything you say can and will 
be held against you in a court of law.  You have the 
right to remain silent. You have the right to an 
attorney.  If you cannot afford and attorney, one 
will be appointed for you by the District of 
Columbia.  Do you understand your rights as I have 
explained them to you?"

She nodded mutely.  "Answer me," Scully nearly spit 
in her face, enjoying throwing her own words back at 
her.

"Yes, I understand."

"Well, great.  At least we agree on one thing."

XXXXXXXXXX

Maureen was treated at the hospital and released 
quietly into the care of Federal Marshals, where she 
was taken and booked for the murder of Senator 
Thompson and the attempted murder of Senator Perkins.

We showed our I.D.s to Margot and Jean Luc to prove 
our identities after the fact.  Good thing they 
hadn't insisted on seeing identification beforehand, 
as we'd both left our badges at home.  We didn't want 
them to be discovered while we were under cover and 
so hadn't put them in our duffel bags when we 
traveled to the club.  We'd left in such a hurry, 
neither of us had thought to bring them.  They were 
in the glove box of my car, however.  Another few 
seconds and we would have been too late.

The tape from the bug was confiscated and we were 
assured the tape of our session had been erased 
earlier.  We listed to the tape ourselves to be sure.  
All the evidence was there and it was handed over to 
the Federal Marshals.  Maureen Hazel was going away 
for a long, long time.

The next day we sat down and had a long talk with 
Jean Luc and Margot, explaining that while we were 
partners in the FBI, we were also partners in life, 
and that Scully really was a Domme, and I really was 
new to the lifestyle.  We explained that we would 
like to remain members of the club under our assumed 
names if that was all right with them.

They agreed under the condition that we didn't bring 
our weapons into the club ever again.  We agreed.  We 
told them we needed a few days to get all this 
straightened out and we would return in a few days to 
resume our membership.

We left and retired to our respective apartments.  I 
spent a sleepless night knowing that we were meeting 
with Matheson in the morning and wishing Scully were 
in the bed with me.  I still had yet to 'make love' 
to her the way I wanted to.  I vowed that soon, we 
would be together outside the club and settle any 
misgivings or doubts about continuing this 
relationship once and for all.  I wanted the life at 
the club.  It filled a need for both of us, but I 
wanted more than that ... more than just the sex.  I 
needed more than that from Scully.  I needed her 
love, and I needed her to show that love to me 
outside the club environment.  I hoped she would 
understand.  I prayed she would understand.

XXXXXXXXXX
PART 14 (PG-13) 
SENATOR MATHESON'S OFFICE 
WASHINGTON, D.C. 
TWO DAYS LATER
 
"Agents, please come in and have a seat." Matheson stood and 
gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. I managed a wan smile, 
feeling somewhat self-conscious in his presence now that Mulder 
knew the truth. 
 
The senator caught my eye just as we sat down. A small nod on his 
part told me in no uncertain terms that he was aware of my 
discomfort. He returned to his own seat, and for a moment, the 
three of us just sat there, none of us really knowing where to start 
or what to say. 
 
His eyes darted to the papers in front of him. "I just finished 
reading the report." He shook his head slightly. "To be honest, I'm 
astounded." 
 
Mulder sat up, his posture stiff. "By what exactly? The fact that we 
solved the case despite what we were thrown in to?" 
 
"Fox--" 
 
"Maybe you'd like me to elaborate on the lengths we went to, 
maybe fill you in on the things we couldn't put in the official 
report?" 
 
Matheson's eyes widened slightly, his gaze immediately falling to 
me. "You must know, I never intended--" 
 
I shook my head. "It doesn't matter," I said dropping my eyes from 
his. 
 
"*Of course* it does." The conviction in Matheson's voice drew 
my gaze back to him. "I just I was never sure how much he 
knew." 
 
Mulder shifted in his chair. "NOTHING!" he practically spat. "I 
knew *nothing*!" 
 
I placed my hand on his arm. Immediately he relaxed, but only 
marginally. I knew coming face to face with the senator was going 
to be difficult for him. I also knew there was no real middle ground 
for him on this: Matheson may have been justified, but he'd used 
us both, and Mulder felt betrayed by him. "Let's just stick to the 
details of case for the time being, ok?" 
 
He sulked just a bit, but nodded his agreement. A truce would be 
reached at some point between them, just not today. 
 
Matheson took my cue and began speaking, his demeanor calm 
and business like again. "It should come as little surprise to learn 
that all traces of any connection between Mr. Silverman and 
Morley Tobacco have been difficult to establish." 
 
I almost snorted. "So what's their story on this?" 
 
Matheson's jaw twitched. "Their official statement is that Mr. 
Silverman was not in any way authorized by the company to 
pursue the services of Maureen Hazel." 
 
"Naturally." I noticed the expression on the senator's face. "What's 
the best we can hope for? That they can cut a deal and give 
Silverman the chance to turn state's evidence and testify against 
Morley?" 
 
"That's what we would have hoped for, yes." 
 
"Hoped?" 
 
Mulder sighed. "Let me guess, Silverman is nowhere to be found." 
 
Matheson couldn't quite meet his eye. "He disappeared shortly 
after Ms. Hazel's arrest." 
 
"He's dead." 
 
The senator managed to nod solemnly. "That would be my 
assessment, but of course finding any proof of this." He didn't 
continue. He didn't have to. 
 
I sighed in disgust. "What other options have we? What about 
cutting a deal with Maureen?" 
 
Mulder shook his head. "The only direct link we have any proof of 
is her connection to Silverman. Frohike managed to hack into her 
bank records and found a secret account set up to keep the funds of 
her 'services', but the money can only be traced back to 
Silverman." 
 
"And by denying his involvement--", the senator began. 
 
"There's no way to prove she was actually working for Morley," 
Mulder finished for him. 
 
"Their tracks are well covered," Matheson said, an edge of anger 
evident in his voice. "We can still prosecute Ms. Hazel for the 
crimes she committed, of course. We have enough evidence of her 
involvement." 
 
"Morley remains untouched." Mulder turned toward me. "I can 
prove she was paid by Silverman to influence the senators by using 
her unique relationship with them, but there's nothing to connect 
her directly to Morley. The important connection is between them 
and Silverman." 
 
"Can't we argue that she was obviously only asked to insure the 
votes on legislation that directly involved Morley?" I asked. 
 
"It's not enough to warrant a federal investigation," Matheson said. 
 
"So what? That's it, then?" I could hardly believe it. 
 
The senator met my eyes carefully. "Well, like I said before, at 
least the killer *was* caught--" 
 
"A lackey was caught," I said somewhat bitterly. 
 
We fell silent for a long moment. There wasn't a whole lot more to 
be said. 
 
Finally, Matheson cleared his throat. "I just want to express my 
thanks to you both--" 
 
Mulder's hand shot up, blocking the other man's words. "Don't." 
 
Matheson sighed. "Fox, I can understand your anger with me. I did 
only what I believed was necessary to best insure your safety." 
 
Mulder's eyes shot quickly to me and then went immediately back 
to the senator. "What about Scully's safety? What about the 
position you placed her in?" 
 
"Mulder, stop." I reached out and placed my hand gently on his 
arm. "Think about what could've happened had he *not* sent me in 
with you." He met my gaze. "Personally, I'm glad I was your 
partner on this and not, say, any of the other agents that work the 
undercover unit. I shudder to think of those guys in leather." 
 
A small smile quirked at his lips. "I guess you have a valid point." 
 
"I'm sorry, Fox."  Matheson interjected.  I could hear the sincerity 
in his voice.  "I never wanted to cause discomfort between the two 
of you."  His eyes turned to me.  "I hated using the past the way I 
did.  I guess I assumed I stood a better chance of keeping my own 
secrets if I sent in someone that had their own to protect.  It was 
selfish." 
 
I nodded.  "Yeah, you're right.  It was selfish."  I tried to smile.  
"But I understand why you did it." 
 
Matheson met my gaze evenly.  "Your understanding is more than 
I deserve." 
 
I nodded and looked away, a smile beginning to tug at the corner 
of my mouth.  "This isn't to say I feel you have the right to merely 
apologize and be absolved for the danger you placed us all in," I 
continued, letting the words hang in the air for just a moment.  "I'll 
be making a few calls." 
 
I heard his audible gulp.  "To what end, if I may ask?" 
 
I stood up slowly, then turned the full force of my intent on him.  
"Even those that wield the control sometimes need a lesson in 
remembering how it feels to have it taken from them." 
 
"Scully?" 
 
I turned to my ashen-faced partner and almost giggled.  "Rest 
assured, Mulder, I have no intension of dispensing justice on this 
occasion."  I held out my hand to help him stand before turning 
back to Matheson.  "Thanks in part to the senator, we now have a 
complete list of individuals that I'm certain would be up to the 
task." 
 
Matheson's eyes widened. "Agent Scully?" 
 
The look on my face caused the words to die in his throat.  I 
nodded coolly and began to walk purposefully from the room, 
Mulder not two steps behind me. 
 
Just as we reached the door, Mulder stopped and turned back to 
Matheson.  "With all due respect, Sir, it must suck to be you about 
now."

XXXXXXXXXX
PART 15 (NC-17)
FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT
42 HEGAL PLACE
ALEXANDRIA, VA

XXXXXXXXXX NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXXX

"Let me undress you," she whispered.

Far be it of me to deny the lady's request!  I felt 
myself grow harder as my cock began to pulse in 
anticipation.  Her hands brushed lightly over my fly 
as she drew the zipper down.  She unhooked the top of 
my trousers and they fell down to puddle around my 
feet.

She went down on her knees, raising one foot and then 
the other, removing my shoes and socks, and then 
proceeding to remove my dress slacks.  She looked up 
and I saw raw desire in her face.  I gasped, feeling 
the same need myself.  I still couldn't quite believe 
this was happening.  

She came to her feet, unbuttoned my shirt and yanked 
it down my arms.  When it tangled around my wrists 
she left it there for a moment, stepping forward and 
beginning to run her tongue all over my chest in wet 
sucking kisses.  I moaned.  Everywhere her lips 
touched, my skin felt like it was burning hot.

Finally, she removed my shirt.  I stopped her when 
she reached for my boxer briefs.  "My turn," I said 
softly and began to remove her blouse, followed by 
her pantyhose, skirt, and shoes.  She was left 
standing in her underwear.  My eyes took in the sight 
and then I reached behind her, looking over her 
shoulder and unhooking her bra.  I stepped back and 
watched as it slowly slid off her shoulders and down 
her arms.  

She shrugged and it fell to the floor.  We engaged in 
another hot make out session standing there in our 
underwear.  "Scully," I panted, when I finally came 
up for air.  "Naked, we have to get naked NOW!"

We hastily removed our underwear.  The sight of her 
buck-naked made the blood sing in my veins.  I 
grabbed her and firmly tipped her back onto the bed, 
coming down on top of her and kissing her again, my 
elbows near her shoulders.  This kiss was slower and 
more sensual than before.  I wanted to slow things 
down.  This was the first time we would have 
intercourse, and I was glad it wasn't at the club.  I 
was glad it was here in the privacy of my own 
bedroom.  I wanted to take my time.  This once, at 
least, I wanted to savor every moment.

I lifted up and rearranged us in the middle of the 
bed, with pillows under her head and her lower back.  
I reached around to clutch at her naked ass, the 
object of so many of my fantasies.  

Her eyes smoldered as I moved down, suckling her 
nipples and trailing wet kisses down her stomach.  
She moaned and it was a sweet sound. 

Finally I reached my goal and put her legs over my 
shoulders.  She looked down and moaned.  I couldn't 
help the sly smile that crossed my face.  I pulled on 
her butt, moving her down further toward my mouth.  
My mouth came down on her in an open mouthed kiss and 
she groaned at the sensation.

I sucked her lips into my mouth and tongued her 
entrance.  She squirmed her hips, pushing them toward 
my mouth.  I moved up to circle her clit with my 
tongue and watched as she threw her head back and 
moaned, spreading her legs wider.  It was an amazing 
sight.  "Play with your breasts, Scully," I murmured 
and then went back to suckling and licking her clit.

Her hands came up and grasped her breasts, squeezing 
them.  Her fingers found her nipples and she began to 
pinch and roll them gently.  The sight of it 
distracted me when she lurched her hips up off the 
bed.  If I hadn't pulled back, she probably would 
have broken my nose!   

I wrapped my hands under her legs, around and over 
her hips, holding her down to avoid such an accident.  
That would certainly put a damper on things.

I concentrated on her clit and in mere seconds she 
was bucking against my hands and vibrating under my 
tongue as she climaxed.  I vowed that would be just 
the first one of many I gave her tonight.

XXXXXXXXXX

I was overwhelmed by the sensations flooding through 
my body.  The second Mulder's tongue had touched my 
nether lips, I'd felt electricity zip through me and 
stiffen my nipples.  When he finally made his way up 
to my clitoris, though, it was like a whole new world 
of sensation opened up.  'God, had my previous 
partners been so crummy at this?' I wondered.  I 
remembered how easily he'd brought me off at the 
club.  There, he hadn't even been able to use his 
hands.  He hadn't used them here either.  That oral 
fixation was finally being put to good use.

I was stunned when, in a matter of a few short 
minutes, he had me convulsing in an earth shattering 
orgasm that left me panting and trembling under his 
mouth.  "Oh God, Mulder! Yes!  You're so good at 
this!" I shrieked, feeling the shuddering waves of 
sensation wash through me.  I went boneless on the 
bed, trying to catch my breath.

I watched through barely open eyes as he came up on 
all fours and moved to hover over me.  He was wearing 
a very self-satisfied smile.  Normally, I would 
relish wiping that smug expression off his face.  
This time, though, I couldn't bring myself to do it.  
He had done a wonderful job of coaxing my body to 
climax.  'Praise Jesus!  He knew where the clitoris 
is,' I said to myself.

He kissed me and then I felt his knees pushing my 
legs further apart.  He let himself down between my 
legs and I curled them up over his hips.  This wasn't 
the best position for women but I didn't care.  I 
just wanted to be close to him.  I wanted to connect, 
to feel him inside me.  I smiled up at him, languid 
with post-coital relaxation.  

His cock nudged my soaking wet entrance and pushed 
inside.  I was gripped with an amazing floating 
feeling.  He was thick and long.  I couldn't wait to 
feel him fill me up.  It was good thing I was so wet, 
because it was still going to be a tight fit.

XXXXXXXXXX

As I brushed my glans over her still sensitive 
clitoris, she flinched.  I lined myself up and 
watched as I eased my cock inside her tight sheath.  
I moaned as she closed her eyes and groaned with 
delight at the feel of my shaft penetrating her and 
pushing deep into her snug pussy.

I pulled back and took a few shallow strokes in and 
out of her, loosening her up a little.   I came up on 
my knees a bit more and lifted my torso, gazing down 
at her and watching my cock slide inside her with a 
slow, easy slide.  She was the picture of absolute 
perfection to me.  Her whole being glowed with 
sensuality and sexiness as she accepted me into her 
body.

My cock hadn't gone in all the way, so I pulled back, 
braced myself and asked, "You want it all, Scully?"

She grinned.  "Give it to me," she said saucily.

I smiled just before I thrust really hard, burying 
myself to the balls.  "Fuck me, God you feel so 
good!" I moaned.  I couldn't believe how good she 
felt.  I watched her face as she moaned and quivered, 
adjusting to the new intrusion.  I wondered how long 
it had been for her.  I hoped it had been as long as 
it had been for me.

She gasped and her hands fluttered over my shoulders 
and back.  I held still and murmured in her ear.  
"You fit me like a glove, Scully.  It's perfect."

She sighed, relaxing under me and I rocked forward, 
sliding a bit deeper.  We both moaned and closed our 
eyes, savoring the sensation.

I began to thrust and felt my endurance coming to an 
alarmingly rapid end.  I thrust slowly, trying to 
prolong the inevitable.  Every push inside her 
elastic walls made my balls rumble in warning.  I was 
quickly building toward orgasm, feeling my balls 
tighten.

I reached between us awkwardly with one hand and 
flicked my fingers over her engorged clitoris.  Her 
already tight muscles began gripping me in a rapid 
flutter.  My cock was on fire and her orgasm was the 
last straw, pushing me over the edge.  I couldn't 
hold out and let loose with a fiery stream of cum 
shots that filled her tunnel and slowly leaked out 
around our joining.

I could feel her pussy contracting and releasing 
around my cock as she began to moan with delight.    
She was gripping me like a vice as she cried out, 
"Yeah, so good.  Love you!  So good, Mulder."

My mind swam.  It was so intense it scared me a 
little and I cried out, "Scccuuullly, oh shit, I'm 
coming so haarrdd!  Love you too!"  I thrashed 
around, convulsing as I released into her over and 
over again.

My climax raced through me for what seemed like ages 
and at last began to ebb away, my cock still 
twitching and jerking within the snug confines of her 
body.

XXXXXXXXXX END OF NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX

I lowered myself to her, burying my nose in her neck 
and raining soft kisses on her silky skin. 

She hummed softly in the back of her throat and I 
sighed, finally slipping my now flaccid penis out of 
her.  I hissed as it hit the air and rolled over onto 
my back.  She followed and cuddled into my side, 
resting her head on my shoulder. 

My hand swept idly down her back and her hand 
traveled aimlessly over my chest.  We didn't speak 
for several minutes.  Finally she said, "That was 
beautiful, Mulder."

"Short and sweet?" I joked.

She chuckled, planting a quick, hard kiss on my 
nipple.  I twitched in response and I could feel her 
lips smile against my skin.  "Very sweet."

"Sorry I didn't last longer," I said, chagrined.

"Don't worry about it.  I came like a rocket."

It was my turn to chuckle and lean down to see her 
face.  She tipped her head up to look at me and I 
kissed her slowly trying to convey all the love and 
reverence I had for her.

She kissed me back and then we pulled away and looked 
at each other.  "I love you, Scully.  So much.  I 
know we can make this work."

"I think we can too.  I want to try."

"When you were in the lifestyle, how often did you, 
you know, do that?"

She smiled a sultry smile.  "Don't worry, three times 
a week is a bit much, even for me!"

I returned her smile.  "What's normal?"

She chuckled again. "Normal isn't a word that 
generally goes along with fetish dungeons."

I nudged her gently.  "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do.  I don't know.  It's a preference, I 
guess.  How about we try once a week and see how it 
goes?  We can always go more or less as we adjust and 
see how often we want to do it."

"Sounds good to me."

"I'll call Jean Luc tomorrow and see if we can change 
our standing reservations to once a week.  How does 
Friday's sound?"

"Fine with me.  That is, if we are still welcome 
there."

"Good point.  I think we will be.  He just said no 
weapons.  If he doesn't want us there, I'll 
understand, though.  It's not the end of the world.  
We can do things privately, although it's nice to 
have use of the equipment and furniture.  Besides, 
that's not the only club in town."

"Really?" I asked in a teasing tone of voice.

She smiled sheepishly.  "No, it's not, Pet."

I groaned softly; just hearing her use what was 
evidently to be my play name for good.  "What new 
delights are you going to introduce me to?"

"Now that would take all the surprise and fun out of 
it if I told you that."

"Tease," I said gently.

She reached over my hip and clasped my butt cheek as 
I rolled toward her.  "I love your ass, Mulder.  You 
have a Grade A, number one, top of the chart, ass.  
Do you know that?"

I laughed with giddiness.  I had loosed the tiger in 
Scully and I had a feeling I was going to like it.  I 
didn't ever want to see her caged again.  "Is that a 
hint?" I queried.

She gave me a sly look.  "It might be," she said 
softly.

I shuddered feeling her finger gently push on my 
anus.  Despite its recent work out and inability to 
revive itself just yet, I felt my cock twitch at the 
sensation.  I closed my eyes and relaxed into her 
arms.  "Go easy on me," I whispered.

She smiled and kissed me softly.  "I'll never harm 
you, Mulder.  Trust me."

"I do, Scully.  You're the only one I trust."



XXXXXXXXXX
EPILOGUE (NC-17)
CACHOT DESIRER
WASHINGTON, D.C.

XXXXXXXXXX

I stop the vibrations and slowly pull the phallus 
from him, chuckling at his almost disappointed grunt. 
In one quick motion, I remove the strap-on and it 
drops to the floor. I let my hands slither their way 
up his thighs and begin massaging his ass cheeks to 
help his muscles contract and close up.

My eyes flicker to our guest and then back to the 
task at hand, so to speak. After a few more gentle 
rubs, I step away from him. "We're done now, Pet," I 
say neutrally to Mulder.

He pants gently as I remove his restraints. Once 
they're removed, I hook my arm around his waist, and 
help him stand on wobbly legs. I look down just in 
time to see the muscles in his thighs quiver and 
can't suppress the immediate smirk. When my eyes 
wonder back to his face, he has his bottom lip 
between his teeth, chewing it restlessly. I know 
what's coming and my smile widens.

"Mistress?"

I try to remain passive. "Yes?"

"What about you?" he asks almost shyly. What about 
me? Is he kidding? This just topped my list of 'Un-
*fucking*-real 'Experiences to Remember' and still he 
stands before me, as steady as his poor legs can hold 
him, all but willing to continue if I say the word.

I love this man. 

No, really. I *LOVE* this man.

I smile at him, even though he can't see it. "I'm 
fine," I say. God, he looks delicious; sweaty and 
used and good enough to devour. He must register my 
appraisal because he suddenly seems to stand taller. 
He thinks I've decided to continue after all and is 
bracing himself for it. As tempting as that prospect 
is, I know he really needs to rest. This session was 
extremely intense for him. Still, no reason to let 
him think he's off the hook completely. "For now," I 
add, my voice low enough that he'll have no problem 
hearing the connotation behind the words.

He licks his lips. Message received. "O.K." A slight 
pout taints his smile. He was hoping we'd incorporate 
intercourse into our play, and fully expected me to 
take us into it tonight.  I might have, at least 
until the senator appeared in the doorway.  I can 
share, but only to an extent.

Then, of course, there's something to be said in 
keeping my Pet guessing. 

"We're done for now.  Take off your blindfold," I 
tell him, wondering if maybe he'll think I've crossed 
the line by letting the senator watch.

Mulder yanks the blindfold down and gasps as soon as 
he sees that we've had an audience. His eyes peruse 
the other man, taking in Matheson's black leather 
shorts and combat boots, and only a hint of wry 
surprise is evident in their sparkle. He doesn't 
react outwardly, but I can see the slight lift of his 
brows as he registers the outfit. It takes him a 
moment to notice that as the senator stands there, 
he's languidly stroking his penis. Just seconds after 
it registers, I watch as 'the panic face' falls 
across his features. 

Matheson notes Mulder's reaction and then his gaze 
flickers to me. 'What now?' he seems to ask me 
silently. 

I raise my eyebrows and smirk. 'You're on your own 
now' the look clearly answers him.

He looks only momentarily resigned before turning 
back to Mulder. He visibly softens and must decide 
that the best course of action is to just keep it 
light. He smiles warmly at Mulder and says, "I'm glad 
you came back. I wondered if you would."

My partner plays it close to the chest, replying with 
an ambivalent "Sir."  He's acknowledged the senator, 
but he keeps his gaze passive.

It's a start.

I have no doubt that the senator is aware of that.

"Gray," he says to Mulder and I watch as they share a 
look of wry amusement sparked from the disclosure of 
the play name.  So much for Little Green Men, indeed.

Mulder nods to him, and regardless how I may feel 
about Matheson at times, I'm glad to see this small 
step towards a reconciliation being made between 
them. Mulder admires so few and trusts even less.

He turns then to look at me.  He was surprised by the 
senator's presence but he isn't angry with me over 
it. I give him a knowing smile, grateful that he 
understands.  Slowly, I cross to him, handing him a 
towel to wrap around his hips. "Hit the shower," I 
say, the soft note in my voice belying the emotion I 
feel.  "I'll meet you in the lobby."

He nods wordlessly and walks naked out into the hall.  
I can't help but admire the backside I just treated 
so roughly until he turns left and out of my view, 
heading no doubt to the open showers.

He'll find everything there, already waiting for him. 
His clothes are in his locker. His soap and cleansers 
rest patiently by the shower stalls.  I love taking 
care of him like this.  I love that Mulder lets me.  
I love that he trusts me to.

A sign of faith.

Maybe it is.

Maybe I like it.

Matheson and I stand there, silent for a long moment, 
both of us staring into the space Mulder just 
vacated. I feel when his focus finally shifts to me. 
I turn to him and he smiles.  "Thank you for letting 
me watch, Dana," he says softly.  "You've done a 
beautiful job with him."  Then he moves off toward 
another room.

What a strange ride this has been.

I watch him go, then grab my own bag and head for the 
showers. 

XXXXXXXXXX

The world feels so different to me now, and not just 
because I'm officially Zestfully clean, either. I 
mean, this shouldn't surprise me, considering what's 
happened in the past few weeks, but there's a part of 
me that can only marvel in astonishment over 
everything.  There's a part of me that knows how 
*good* I have it, and yet still can't quite grasp the 
enormity of what that truly means.

'This is my life now,' I tell my reflection, wonder 
visible in my eyes despite the steam obscuring my 
image. Even through the cloudy mist on the mirror, I 
can make out the redness of my lips, still stained a 
deep ruby. Lips that not twenty minutes ago 
commanded, teased, praised, and punished.

Mulder.

My pet.

For a moment, it almost does feel too unreal to *be* 
real.

I walk back to my locker and dress quickly, anxious 
suddenly to see him again, to confirm the reality of 
not just my own presence in this place, but his.

I grab my duffel bag, sling it over my shoulder, and 
move to look at myself one last time in the full-
length mirror by the exit door.  So normal.  So 
casual. So 'same-ol Scully'. I don't know why I keep 
expecting myself to look different, but I do, and 
it's almost a little disappointing that the change 
isn't more visible.

I brush my fingers through my damp hair and then dig 
in my purse for something to wipe off the remainder 
of my lipstick.  I stop just before bringing the 
tissue to my mouth, a rebellious streak inside 
demanding that I somehow acknowledge the inner change 
with this small outward manifestation.

'See? See, Mulder?  It was real.  It was me.  That 
other woman was *me*.  Can you believe it?' 

I wonder if he'll notice it.  If he does, will he 
know what I'm trying to say?

I square my shoulders and head for the lobby.

It's dim and deserted. I walk over to one of the 
padded benches and sit. Minutes later, Mulder emerges 
and I stand up, momentarily wondering what he thinks 
of me in my plain civilian clothes, wondering if he's 
a little disappointed by the blue jeans and tee-
shirt.

I only need to look into his eyes to know I'm being 
silly. They're shining brightly, soft and open.

God, we've come so far.

"Your place or mine?" I ask a little coyly.

He smiles. "Yours is closer."

"You win," I say, turning toward the door. He's right 
on my heels and I like the implications of this.

We're just outside when he grabs me suddenly.  Before 
I realize what's happening, he has me against the 
cold stone of the building, his lips crushing against 
mine.

When he pulls away, we're both out of breath.  His 
lips are wet and tinged a rosy pink. "That's a good 
color for you, Mulder," I say a little breathlessly.

"It's a better color for you, Scully.  I'm glad you 
left it on."

I grin up at him, knowing exactly what he means. Why 
did I even doubt he'd notice?

I think maybe a tradition has just been started.  
From now on, let the color stay.  Let it remind him 
that even though I may transform from his Mistress 
back into his Scully, that other woman is always 
there, just under the surface.

Waiting ...

END

"There are two kinds of people in this world: Those 
that listen to Neil Diamond and those that don't." 
---Bob