Role Play 
By Xanthe
 
Fox Mulder shut the door of his apartment behind 
him with a heartfelt sigh. It was Friday, it was 8 o’ 
clock in the evening and he was glad to be putting 
work behind him so that he could concentrate on the 
weekend ahead. He had not had a very good week. 
First there had been that business with the satanic 
cult in Boston and then Cancerman had dropped by 
and blown smoke all over him.
"You are not who you think you are, Mulder." 
Cancerman had told him.
"Oh yeah!" He answered before stopping to think 
about it. "What’s that supposed to mean?" he asked 
in a puzzled tone.
"The answers to the questions you seek are within 
you, Mulder, not out there." Cancerman waved his 
hand expansively towards the window. "We are all 
shadows," he added cryptically. "Illusions seduced 
by dreams."
"Yeah, right." Mulder wrinkled up his forehead, 
"and we’re all philosophers too."
"It’s not as unlikely as you might think." Cancerman 
stubbed his cigarette out on Mulder’s desk. "Fate 
makes philosophers of us all. When the wind blows 
from the east, we must all lean to the west." 
"Is there a point to all this?" Mulder asked, 
exasperated.
"No, Mulder. Except that you will do as I say. As 
always." 
And with that, he had left. Damn him for being so 
damn right. A few minutes later, Skinner had 
dropped by and made it quite clear that Mulder was 
to close the case he was working on, now, without 
delay. Not that he had any leads to go on anyway. It 
was another dead end but all the same he ended up 
in the shit. Again. And all because of Cancerman 
and Skinner and everyone else, telling him what to 
do, day in day out. He was sick of it.
Mulder took a long, hot shower, rubbing himself 
down briskly. Well screw them, screw the lot of 
them – tonight he was going to ease the tension, he 
was going to go out and get himself a good time in 
just the way he liked. With a towel wrapped round 
his waist he returned to his bedroom and pulled out 
a case from under his bed. He opened it up and 
grinned down broadly at the contents. "No more Mr 
Docile!" He said to himself. "No more, yes sir, no 
sir, three bags full sir! Tonight, I get to call the 
shots." And so saying, he pulled on the tight PVC 
vest, the shiny black leather trousers and the knee-
length patent leather boots. He threaded a studded 
belt through the waistband of the trousers, fingering 
the snake and whip motif on the buckle. Then he 
slicked some gel on his hair and snapped a tasteful 
silver collar around his neck. Finally he pulled on 
the black leather jacket and biker’s gloves and 
studied himself in the mirror.
"Goodbye Special Agent Fox Mulder, general all 
round lapdog and loser, hello Master X!" He said to 
his reflection, tapping a riding crop impatiently 
against the palm of his hand. "Mean, moody and 
masterful!" He paused only to pick up a small 
leather rucksack full of his favourite equipment, 
then he stepped out of his apartment and downstairs 
to where the hired black Harley awaited him.
Mistress Velvet lay in her parlour, several slaves 
kneeling at her feet. She heard the door chime and a 
few minutes later Master X was ushered into her 
domain.
"Welcome Master X," she purred.
"Uh, Mistress Velvet." Mulder took her proffered 
hand and kissed it. She was gorgeous, he thought to 
himself. Clad only in a tight red velvet corset with 
black ribbons that pushed out her large, creamy 
breasts, her curly blonde hair nestled around her 
shoulders and her stunning grey-blue eyes fixed him 
with the gaze of a true dom. She was exactly the sort 
of dominatrix that his sub side responded to but it 
had been a long while since he had indulged that 
side of himself. For a long time now, his fantasies 
had been those of domination and control and it 
didn’t take a genius to work out why.
"Tonight is a special night, Master X." Velvet said, 
waving a hand. A half-naked slave girl rushed over 
and offered Mulder a tray with a glass on it.
"Champagne!" Mulder took a sip and gazed 
enquiringly at Mistress Velvet. "Tonight must be 
very special then, Mistress." 
"Oh yes, it is!" Velvet purred. "Tonight you get fully 
accepted into The Dungeon, Master X. Tonight is 
your initiation."
Mulder rocked back on his heels, a feeling of joy 
surging through him. He had waited months for this. 
The Dungeon was the most exclusive S&M club in 
town – he hadn’t been able to risk anything less with 
the sort of work he did. The blackmail possibilities 
were too horrendous to contemplate. It had taken 
him months and a lot of dollars to get himself into 
this position. The Dungeon had two levels – the 
outer level was where prospective masters, 
mistresses and slaves met and worked and played 
until Mistress Velvet felt they could be trusted to be 
admitted to the inner level, the sanctum! Only the 
elite were allowed to indulge themselves there. 
Mulder drew himself up to his full height, feeling 
truly masterful. He was about to become one of the 
elite!
"Now, Master X, let’s go through the rules again, 
shall we?" Mistress Velvet said. "You only get one 
shot at this you know." 
"Yes, Mistress." He said, respectfully but without 
fawning, one dom to another, although she was a 
way superior dom to him and he knew that. 
"Very well, then. Marcus, provide seating for Master 
X!" Velvet called and a muscular slave came rushing 
up and kneeled in front of Mulder so that he could 
sit on the man’s back. "Firstly, you have 
responsibilities here, X." 
"Yes." He nodded sagely. "Always negotiate, always 
respect safe words…" 
"Yes, of course. That goes without saying." Velvet 
waved a hand impatiently.
"But there are other responsibilities. You have a 
responsibility towards me – I am in charge of this 
establishment. If I give you a gift I expect you to 
treat it well, as it expects to be treated. How you 
treat your gift will go a long way to establishing 
whether you are really dom enough to be accepted 
in the sanctum, X!" 
"Yes, Mistress." 
"And I’m not just talking about respect, X. I’m 
talking about acting like a true master, subduing 
even the most recalcitrant slave." 
"Yes, Mistress, although…" Mulder looked round 
the room at the kneeling, attentive slaves. "Although, 
mistress, all the slaves here look pretty well trained 
to me." 
"These are my personal slaves." Velvet said and her 
tone was like a slap to his impertinence. "You won’t 
be getting your hands on any of these this evening. 
They have been trained to a very exacting level of 
discipline and obedience." She fixed Mulder with a 
ruthless, questioning eye. "No, tonight I have found 
a special slave for you. If you can subdue this slave, 
treat it in a manner befitting a dom, establish your 
mastery over the creature, then you will be accepted. 
But if you fail…" She let the sentence hang, 
ominously. "Do you understand?" She asked.
"Yes." He swallowed, feeling rather nervous, 
wondering what she had in store for him. His 
preference was for big-busted women; large, wide-
hipped females of the sort who’d normally eat him 
for breakfast. That was part of the pleasure. These 
women who’d walk past him in the street and treat 
him with disdain in real life, these were the women 
who he most wanted to have kneeling at his feet 
adoringly. Maybe it would be a man, though. Mulder 
wasn’t bothered. His tastes there were similar – big, 
muscular men, the sort who intimidated him in real 
life but who here would writhe under his whip, 
abase themselves at his feet, address themselves to 
his every whim!
"So, are you feeling well, X?" Velvet was saying.
"Yes, fine." He looked at her, puzzled.  
"It’s an important question. You see, X, once you 
set foot inside the sanctum, you must stay there for 
the duration of the evening to prove your worth. If 
you leave, or you fail, or you refuse to accept your 
gift, then you will never be allowed another chance. 
If you aren't feeling up to it then I suggest you say 
so now and we will re-convene another evening." 
"No, now’s fine." Mulder said, nodding vigorously. 
"In fact, now is just perfect!" He longed to open up 
his shoulders and deliver a nice whipping to 
somebody. If he closed his eyes he could see 
Cancerman blowing out smoke at him and he could 
see Skinner standing over him and giving him orders 
and this way he could get his own back, do some 
screwing of his own instead of always getting 
screwed. 
"Good. Very well then, Master X. Prepare yourself 
to enter the sanctum!"
The sanctum was a series of huge interconnecting 
basement rooms, very comfy and quite dark, with 
burgundy velvet hangings on the walls and soft 
furnishings. Mulder grinned to himself. This was 
where he belonged! Here he could be someone else, 
he could escape into a fantasy for a little while and 
get a long way from plots and mutants and people 
who were trying to kill, deceive, trap or otherwise 
harm him. Here he was king! He took the seat 
Velvet showed him to, lounging back in the 
cushions with his legs wide open in a pose of 
masterly arrogance.
He saw Mistress Velvet across the dark room, 
leading someone behind her on a silver chain. It was 
a man, Mulder could make out that much, a big man 
clad in harem pants and an itsy bitsy waistcoat with 
embroidery on it. Like some sort of old fashioned 
eunuch! Mulder could feel himself getting all 
steamed up in preparation for this encounter with his 
special slave. 
"Master X." Velvet stopped at his table and the slave 
obediently knelt, his eyes cast down to the floor. 
"May I present you with your slave. His chosen 
name is…Foxy." Only the barest glimmer of a smile 
adorned her cruel lips as she said this. Mulder 
looked up in surprise. Foxy - that was a bit close to 
home. He hoped Velvet didn’t know more about 
him than was comfortable and that this wasn’t some 
sort of trap. "You have my permission to look at 
your new master, Foxy." Velvet said, passing over 
the slave’s lead to Mulder. The man lifted his head 
and for a moment their eyes were locked in a 
horrified gaze of disbelief. Mulder felt a nausea that 
began in his stomach and threatened to spill out all 
over the table. Velvet seemed unaware of any 
change in the atmosphere, she just kept on talking.
"I chose him especially, X." She said, smiling at him. 
"Because he’s just the sort you like isn’t he? Master 
X likes bald, muscular slaves, particularly ones older 
than himself," Velvet continued, addressing Foxy 
now, "He confided in me that these types please him 
most because they remind him of his boss!" She let 
out a merry little laugh. Foxy’s eyes hardened and 
Mulder gulped, a sudden sensation of danger 
creeping through him. "Oh you’re being very quiet, 
Foxy. That’s not like you!" Velvet exclaimed. "It 
must be that he’s scared of his new master. Never 
mind, Foxy, Master X can be a very considerate 
master. Why don’t you ask his permission to talk?" 
Foxy ground his teeth and gave Mulder a look which 
suggested that he would rather stab him through the 
heart than ask his permission for anything. Velvet 
prodded him in the shoulder.
"I believe I gave you an instruction, Foxy." She said. 
He swallowed and opened his mouth. 
"Permission to speak, Master." He growled, the last 
word sounding like a threat.
"Uh…permission granted." Mulder squeaked back in 
return, his hand trembling on the chain that was 
attached to Foxy’s neck.
"Perhaps we could have a few words in private?" 
Foxy suggested in a tone that implied that it was 
more of an order than a question.
"Yeah, sure. Whatever." Mulder could feel his 
masterfulness slipping by the second. Oh god, oh 
damn. Damn, damn, shit and fuckeroony. What on 
earth was his boss, Assistant Director Walter Skinner 
doing in a place like this dressed only in…harem 
pants!
"Yes, that’s right. You boys go off and negotiate!" 
Mistress Velvet said with a bright smile of glee. "I’ll 
be keeping an eye on you all evening so don’t 
worry. You’re quite safe here!" And so saying she 
pushed them both off towards a private room.
"Master X?" Skinner snorted, ripping the chain out 
of Mulder’s hands as soon as they were alone. 
"That’s hardly very original is it, Mulder?" 
"Whoa! You’re complaining about my choice of 
name?" Mulder was almost speechless. "What’s all 
this Foxy business? Not that I’m not gratified that 
I’m always on your mind but really!" 
"Oh don’t flatter yourself!" Skinner snapped.
"Well why did you choose it then?" Mulder asked, 
aware that they were discussing something as 
ridiculous as this to avoid getting to the real point.
"Because…it was the first thing I could think of. I 
don’t know why." Skinner said angrily.
"Oh right. Next thing you’ll be saying that you’re 
here working undercover on some assignment!" 
Mulder said.
"No…oh god, you’re not that naïve. Even I couldn’t 
swing a ridiculous lie like that. It’s quite obvious 
what I’m doing here. And you too for that matter."
"Yeah. I suppose." Mulder sat down on a wooden 
chair for support, seriously suspecting that his knees 
were in danger of giving way. "Hmm, turquoise suits 
you." He remarked, looking at the embroidery on 
Skinner’s waistcoat. "Odd that. Never would have 
put you down as a turquoise man." 
"And I never would have put you down as a leather 
queen!" Skinner retorted angrily, staring at Mulder’s 
slicked back hair and shiny leather boots. "Now, 
what we have here, is a highly embarrassing 
situation, Mulder." 
"I’m not arguing about that." Mulder nodded, 
watching as Skinner paced around the room like a 
lion in a cage.
"And we have to resolve it as soon as possible." 
"Yep." Mulder played idly with the riding crop he 
kept hanging from his belt.
"Stop that!" Skinner thundered. "It’s distracting."
"Sorry, sir." He replied automatically and then he 
felt angry with himself. Damn it, here he was sir! He 
was the one in charge not Foxy Skinner here in his 
tiny waistcoat and ridiculous harem pants.
"The only answer is for you to leave." Skinner said.
"Me leave!" Mulder repeated astonished. "No way! 
This is my initiation. If I flunk it I can’t come back 
again. Not ever. There’s no way I’m giving that up 
for you, sir." 
"Well it’s my goddamn initiation too!" Skinner 
exclaimed. "And the same goes ditto for me!"  
"Well one of us is going to be a loser tonight then." 
Mulder said, his tone implying that he had no 
intention of it being him.
"I’m giving you an order, Mulder!" Skinner roared. 
"I suggest you obey or it’ll be all the worse for you." 
"Oh yeah, right. And exactly how are you going to 
make my life even more difficult than it already is?" 
Mulder said hotly, getting to his feet.
"What on earth are you talking about?" Skinner 
frowned, still pacing.
"I mean that I need this place, sir. Every day at work 
I get screwed over by someone. If it’s not 
Cancerman it’s you or the section chief. Everybody 
laughs at me – I can’t even go to the canteen without 
someone throwing crockery at me and yelling 
"watch out – flying saucer!" and they’ve written 
"spooky" on my locker so many times now that I 
don’t even bother getting it cleaned off! No, I’m not 
budging, sir. Here’s where I get my own back. 
Here’s where I get my bit of power." 
"Oh you think you have such a hard life, Mulder!" 
Skinner retorted. "I spend all my days giving orders. 
One after the other. "You, do this, you, do that." 
And then they come to me, whining away "What 
shall we do now, sir? Oh sir, please make our 
decisions for us, we need your help, sir." Yes, even 
you, Mulder. God, what am I saying, especially you, 
Mulder! When something goes wrong with one of 
your ridiculous missions, who’s the first person you 
come to for help? Who has to sort out all the mess 
and get you back on your feet again?" Mulder stared 
at him, suddenly seeing things from a different 
perspective. "Well, I need to relax as well, Mulder. 
And right here I get some release from all that. Here 
I don’t have to make any decisions. I don’t have to 
be in control, or in charge. I just have to do 
whatever I’m told and take whatever’s handed out."
Skinner glared at him angrily then started to calm 
down. "Well, I guess we both have a point," he said 
with a sigh, sitting down on the chair Mulder had 
vacated. "Flying saucers eh? Still I suppose it’s not 
surprising really, Mulder. People always pick on 
those who are different. And you sure are different. 
I’d never have guessed about this though." Skinner 
picked up the riding crop that Mulder had 
abandoned on the table. "You must be quite good as 
well for Velvet to have let you through to the 
sanctum." 
"I thought I was." Mulder said, snatching the crop 
from Skinner’s hands and tucking it back inside his 
belt. "But now I’m not so sure." He leaned back 
against the wall, feeling very angry indeed. 
In the next room Mistress Velvet lay back on her 
chaise longue and listened to the heated discussion 
that was relayed to her through a specially planted 
mike. This was going very well, better than she had 
hoped really. She had been training Foxy for some 
months before she found out what he did for a 
living. She always made it her business to find out 
as much as possible about her clientele but Foxy had 
been a particularly hard nut to crack. When she 
discovered his profession she had been amused, but 
not unduly impressed. A woman in her position saw 
a succession of prominent people, including men in 
positions of some power in the government. 
However when Master X had turned up a little while 
later she had been intrigued. He moaned on 
endlessly about his job, without being specific about 
it and he seemed to have a thing about his boss in 
particular. It had been easier finding out about 
Master X than it had about Foxy. Master X tended to 
be volatile and careless and Velvet soon had a fair 
idea who his boss was. It struck her as being the 
ultimate sub-dom game play to bring these two 
together. Master X wasn’t the only one who 
grumbled about his work. Foxy had also been fairly 
vociferous about a certain young subordinate of his 
who caused him no end of headaches and was 
always getting into trouble. 
"Sounds like he needs a spot of discipline." She had 
murmured, scratching her fingernails over Foxy’s 
bald head.
"Oh discipline doesn’t work with him!" Foxy had 
responded irritably, holding out his wrists for her to 
handcuff them. "You haul him over the coals one 
day and he’s out there again making a nuisance of 
himself the next."
"Not quite the sort of discipline I had in mind, 
perhaps." Velvet murmured, advancing with a tawse 
for him to kiss. When she realised who Master X 
was she could see why these two irritated each other 
so much. Master X needed to establish his 
dominance and Foxy was so bored of being 
dominant he begged to be submissive. And it was 
very nice begging too. It was entirely possible that if 
each could see to the other’s more basic needs, they 
would reach an understanding that had thus far 
eluded them. Velvet leaned back and opened her 
mouth for a grape to be deposited there. She had no 
idea how all this was going to work out, but one 
thing she did know – it would be fun.
"So, where does all this leave us?" Mulder asked, 
wriggling his tense shoulders inside his leather 
jacket.
"Well if neither of us will leave…" Skinner shot a 
hopeful look towards Mulder who shook his head 
firmly, "then we’ll just have to work out a 
compromise." 
"A compromise?" Mulder asked in disbelief. "Look, 
sir, I don’t know how many times you’ve been to 
this place, but there’s not a lot of "compromising" 
goes on here. Usually one person says what’s going 
to happen and the other one obeys. That’s as 
compromising as it gets." 
"Right." Skinner paced around the room again, 
thinking quickly. "Alright then, Mulder. Let’s treat 
this like an undercover mission. With one 
exception." Suddenly, without warning, he put his 
hand out and wrapped it around Mulder’s throat, 
pinning him to the wall. "Tomorrow, none of this 
happened. We never mention it, we never ever talk 
about it to anyone else. We’re back to normal. I’m 
the boss, and you’re…you’re somewhere a long way 
beneath me." Skinner waved his hand vaguely in the 
direction of the floor. "But in order to get through 
tonight, I’ll play along with this scenario. I’ll grovel 
at your feet, you little slimeball. But don’t for a 
second think I mean any of it. And be very careful 
what you do to me. I can be an unforgiving son of a 
bitch when I try. We do just enough to get by, okay? 
Just enough to get through this initiation ceremony."
Next door Mistress Velvet smiled to herself. Oh, she 
was going to have to insist that they did more than 
that. A lot more.
Mulder swallowed down a gulp as Skinner let him 
down off the wall. 
"Well, that’s all my toppishness gone for the 
evening," he muttered darkly. "Thanks, boss." 
He rearranged his collar and rubbed his tender 
throat. "May I?" He took hold of the chain attached 
to Skinner’s neck collar and held it gingerly between 
his fingers.  
"Well don’t screw around. "May I?" Skinner 
mimicked unpleasantly. "That sort of talk isn’t going 
to get us accepted is it, Mulder? I’m warning you. 
I’ll hold you personally responsible if I don’t get 
through this initiation ceremony." 
"Well shut up then!" Mulder yelled. "How can I be a 
top when you won’t be a goddamned bottom?" 
"Point taken." Skinner swallowed and got a visible 
grip on himself. "Shall we go then, Master." He 
gestured towards the door.
"I’ll say when." Mulder jerked him angrily on the 
neck chain. "By the way, we never did negotiate. 
What sort of stuff do you do?" 
"Anything." Skinner said levelly. "Anything that 
won’t leave any marks on my face or hands." 
"And safe words?" 
"Usually my safe word is Scu…" Skinner stopped, 
looking embarrassed. 
"Oh god, it’s not is it? It’s Scully?" Mulder was 
incredulous. "Honestly! Imagination’s not your 
strong point is it?" 
"I have a very good imagination." Skinner replied, 
an odd twinkle in his eye. "Why do you think I 
ended up here?"
They ventured back self consciously into the 
sanctum. It was busier now, a whole host of slaves, 
masters and mistresses were relaxing in a variety of 
activities and poses.  
"Darlings!" Mistress Velvet came over to meet them. 
"Why don’t you go and make yourself comfortable, 
Master X?" She suggested. "Then you can set about 
making your slave very uncomfortable!" She 
laughed, pushing Mulder over to some cushions in 
the corner and patting Skinner fondly on the bottom 
as he passed.
Mulder sat on the cushions and jerked the chain to 
pull Skinner down beside him. 
"On your knees," he whispered.
"Yes, master." Skinner settled down obediently on 
his knees beside Mulder, cursing this whole 
situation. He had been looking forward to tonight 
for so long. He could be such a good slave, able to 
take all manner of abuse and he actively enjoyed it. 
It was such a release and he so longed to be put to 
good use, to truly look up to and worship someone, 
even if it was only for a few hours duration. And 
now he was stuck with this halfwit, Mulder. A man 
who, in all seriousness, believed that he had been 
chased by a mutant that could squeeze through toilet 
bowls and lived off human livers. It was galling.
They sat there in silence for a long while and then 
Skinner noticed that they were getting glances from 
some of the other people in the room. He nudged his 
head against Mulder’s knee.
"Do something." He hissed.
"Like what?" Mulder asked.
"I don’t know. You’re the goddamn dom!" Skinner 
said, exasperated. "Just do something. And that’s an 
order."
"Right. Okay." Mulder had been thinking about this 
for the past half hour but every time he tried to put 
his thoughts into action, his whole body froze. He 
just felt too inhibited. Now though, he had been 
given a direct order. He grinned. An order. In this 
topsy turvy world he was losing track of just who 
was supposed to be ordering who. He tried to 
remember what he had done with that slave a few 
weeks ago. The tall, skinny, well hung one. The one 
he’d tied up to a wall and attached nipple clamps to 
and given a good beating with his riding crop. Ugh. 
He shuddered. There was no way he would be able 
to do any of that with Skinner. He just couldn’t.
"What’s keeping you?" Skinner hissed.
"I can’t. I just can’t." He moaned, burying his head 
in his hands.  
"Pull yourself together." Skinner said but his tone 
was calm and not unkind. He moved closer to 
Mulder and nuzzled his head against his knee. "Now 
sit up, pull your shoulders back and act like you’re 
the most important guy in the world. Okay, that’s 
better." Skinner looked around to see if anyone was 
watching but nobody seemed to be. "Now listen to 
me, Mulder, and listen good. I’m your slave and you 
are the most goddamn mean guy in the whole 
universe. You own the damn universe. You deserve 
to have slaves, hundreds of ‘em, hell thousands. All 
kneeling at your feet grovelling. You’re tough, you 
don’t take any shit from anyone. Now I’m not here, 
right? I’m not anybody you know. I’m just a 
faceless being who’s quivering for you to be 
masterful. And you can be. You’ve got what it 
takes. Master." He added helpfully, as an 
afterthought.
"Right." Mulder lay back on the cushions, 
consciously relaxing his tense muscles, trying to 
wriggle them around. 
"You need a massage, you just ask for one." Skinner 
whispered. "I’m good at massages." 
"Yeah? I mean, yes! Get to work…Foxy." He 
stumbled over the ridiculous name. "Get some oil 
and get rubbing." He shrugged his leather jacket off 
his shoulders and began to pull his vest off.  
"I’ll do that, master." Skinner said quickly, rushing 
to help divest his erstwhile master of his PVC vest. 
Mulder laid himself face down on the couch and 
Skinner went to fetch some oil. He poured it onto 
the hollow between Mulder’s shoulder blades and 
reached down, rubbing with long, deep strokes. 
Mulder sighed. Skinner worked slowly. He enjoyed 
massaging people, especially people with nice skin, 
like Mulder’s. He noticed the way Mulder’s arms 
and legs seemed too long for the couch. They were 
ungainly but curiously attractive. In fact, his new 
master was a good-looking guy. If the situation were 
different he could be enjoying himself right now. 
Skinner jolted back to reality with a start, realising 
that he was enjoying himself right now. But this was 
just a massage. It was easy. They couldn’t do this all 
night. His fingers travelled over Mulder’s nicely 
muscled frame, along his arms and down to his 
wrists.  
"Relax." He shook Mulder’s arm. "Let it go, Master."  
"Mmmm." Mulder tried to disappear into a dream 
world where willing slaves were on hand to see to 
his every whim.  
"That’s better." Skinner whispered, massaging the 
long, sensitive fingers. Nice fingers, lovely fingers, 
he thought to himself. Fingers that could hold a 
riding crop or a whip and do some real damage. 
Fingers that could crawl themselves over a man’s 
naked body and do some serious pinching in the 
nipple area. 
An hour passed. Mulder began to relax. Maybe this 
wouldn’t be too bad. It must be past midnight by 
now. Maybe they could go soon. Maybe they 
wouldn’t have to do any more than this. Mistress 
Velvet, keeping an eye on the situation, decided it 
was time for some action.
"Master X." He opened his eyes and found her 
looking down on him. "I think it’s time you showed 
us how obedient your slave is, don’t you?" 
"Um….yeah." He got up, trying not to even look at 
Skinner. 
"I know you always bring some special equipment. 
Perhaps you could give us a little demonstration." 
Velvet said, using her riding crop to pick up his 
leather rucksack by the straps and depositing it in his 
lap.  
"Equipment. Yes." Mulder opened the bag as 
forcefully as he could, one hand jerking Skinner’s 
neck chain to get him back into a kneeling position. 
Both master and slave stared in horror at the 
assortment of nipple clamps, butt plugs, gags, whips 
and cuffs that fell out. 
"You might not be needing these." Velvet pointed to 
the nipple clamps with her crop. "You see, this slave 
has some accessories that provide alternative 
sources of entertainment. She insinuated the riding 
crop underneath Skinner’s waistcoat to reveal a 
pierced nipple with a silver ring hanging from it. "I 
have a variety of nice chains you might wish to 
use." Velvet clapped her hands and a slave came 
running with a little box of chains.  
"Hey. Great." Mulder plucked out the nearest one 
and attached it to the rings in each of Skinner’s 
nipples. "Sorry." He mouthed under his breath. 
Skinner raised his eyes heavenward.
Annoyed with himself, Mulder decided to try 
harder. His future rested on this, and Skinner’s. 
Together they had to convince Mistress Velvet to 
admit them to the sanctum and he wasn’t playing his 
part very well. Hell, wasn’t this his ultimate wet 
dream? His most treasured fantasy? Walter Skinner, 
under his control, forced to do whatever he said 
instead of the other way round?
"I think it’s time you took this off, don’t you?" He 
pointed at the loose waistcoat, getting to his feet. 
Skinner shrugged the item of clothing off and 
Mulder took hold of the chain attached to those 
nipples, a surge of toppish pleasure coursing through 
him. "Follow me." He said curtly, snatching up his 
favourite set of cuffs. He tugged at the chains as 
they walked, ignoring the muffled squeaks of pain 
that this caused. "I don’t remember telling you that 
you could walk!" He turned to see Skinner 
sauntering along behind him. "On all fours. NOW!" 
Skinner obeyed immediately, a tiny glint of angry 
rebellion in his eye. Mulder saw it and so did Velvet. 
They exchanged glances.  
"It would appear that your slave is not at ease in his 
chains yet." Velvet purred. "Perhaps he needs to feel 
that he serves a very strict master, the sort of master 
who wouldn’t hesitate to hand out very severe 
punishments." 
"Oh, that’s what he’s got alright." Mulder said, 
raising his voice. "A very strict master." He gave the 
chains an angry tug and Skinner yelped and abased 
himself at his feet.
"Sorry, Master. Please forgive me." 
"I don’t think so." Mulder took one of the leather 
cuffs and held it in front of Skinner’s face. "See 
this, slave? I want you to fetch it. In your mouth. 
And bring it back to me. Okay?" Skinner nodded, 
his face impassive. Mulder threw it and Skinner 
chased after it, retrieving it in his mouth and 
depositing it back at his master’s feet. "Very good." 
Mulder fastened the cuff onto Skinner’s wrist. "Now 
this one." Mulder pretended to throw it but instead 
unzipped his trousers and tucked the cuff inside. 
"Fetch!" He said pleasantly, sticking his groin out. 
Skinner’s eyes narrowed angrily but he didn’t falter, 
nudging his face into Mulder’s lap and delicately 
fishing out the cuff with his teeth. "Good boy." 
Mulder patted him on the head, fastening the other 
cuff to his boss’s wrist. "But I detect some rebellion, 
Foxy. So I’m afraid I’m going to have to punish 
you." 
For just a second there was a distinct hint of 
anticipation in Skinner’s eyes and then it faded to be 
replaced by alarm. Mulder grabbed hold of the 
nipple chains and led Skinner over to the wall. He 
fastened each cuff to the wall and then stood back, 
enjoying the sight of Skinner’s splendidly large, 
naked torso, tied up and waiting for his attention. He 
realised, with a surprising surge of pleasure, that his 
boss had a fantastic physique. He grabbed a whip 
from a nearby stand. It was one of those fancy ones 
with long tassles on it. He had practised for weeks to 
be good at twirling one of these. He threw his arm 
back and then brought it forward, stiffly, without 
any great force. Damn. He tried again, but it was no 
use. The whip didn’t even leave the tiniest red mark. 
"Permission to speak, Master." Skinner said.
"Yeah. What is it?" He went over to where Skinner 
was chained.
"With all due respect," Skinner said in an undertone. 
"That was crap. Master. I’ve seen little old ladies 
with more oomph in their wrists than that." 
"Shut. Up." Mulder told him firmly, stepping back 
and raising his arm again. Goddamn slaves, they 
should know their goddamn place. He cracked the 
whip forward with more zest this time and shivered 
with delight to hear the sound of it impacting on 
flesh. Oh god, but he enjoyed doing this. Not with 
Skinner maybe, but usually. A nice hard body 
chained up to a wall and him standing there doling 
out the punishment. It was such fun! His arm was 
rising and falling in a rhythm now and Skinner was 
grunting with the force of the blows, his back 
covered in a nice lattice of red lines.
"Very good." Velvet came up to admire his 
handiwork. "I think this slave is beginning to get the 
idea. But why don’t you insist on some 
more…personal services." She suggested. "I can see 
you’re all hot and bothered." She laughed and patted 
his bulging crotch. Mulder looked down in surprise, 
shocked by how much this scenario was turning him 
on.
"Right." He strode over to where his slave lay 
hanging from his wrists and released him. "Over 
here, slave." He said curtly, getting hold of the neck 
chain and pulling. He seated himself down on a 
chair and pulled Skinner’s head down to his crotch. 
"First of all you are going to suck me off, and then 
you’re going to stop, just before I come, because 
that’s when I’m going to bend you over and fuck 
you."
"No." Skinner said, looking sick at the very thought. 
"You’re not."
"Oh yes I am!" Mulder grinned. This was his chance, 
his only chance. For just one night Skinner was his, 
to do as he liked with and he really wanted to fuck 
him, to make up for all the times he had been 
fucked at work, metaphorically speaking at least. 
"Oh no you’re not!" Skinner repeated, drawing his 
head back.
"What is this, a goddamn pantomime? Are you my 
slave or not, Foxy?" he asked with a leer. Velvet felt 
a twisted smile play at the corner of her lips. Well 
done, Master X, she thought to herself. You are 
really hitting your stride now. I always knew you 
had it in you. She watched as the many thoughts 
going through Skinner’s mind became evident on his 
face. Horror, anger, disgust, annoyance, desire, 
revulsion, anticipation, desire….She laughed out 
loud. He wasn’t in any danger. If he was, he always 
had his safe word. No, he was a man trying to 
decide whether or not to give into temptation. 
"Don’t fight it, Foxy darling." She whispered, 
running a long talon over his head. "Master X only 
wants what’s best for his slave. And you do want to 
be a good slave, don’t you Foxy? I can tell."  
"Yes. Yes I do." Skinner threw his head back as 
Mulder’s fingers played with his ears and 
disappeared down his neck.
"Be a good slave then, Foxy." Mulder said. Skinner 
stared at him, drowning in those hazel eyes. He 
really did want to give in, to let it all just happen, to 
experience that fabulously dizzy out of control 
feeling. If only it wasn’t Mulder, if only he didn’t 
want him so much…if only. 
Mulder suddenly gave into an impulse and did 
something he had always wanted to do. He stuck his 
tongue out and ran it all over his boss’s head, from 
the front to the back, holding the man’s face 
immobile between his hands as he did so that he 
couldn’t draw away. "Now come here." Mulder 
pushed the bald head into his groin, unzipping his 
flies and releasing his eager cock, pressing it into 
Skinner’s grudging mouth.
Skinner began sucking, closing his eyes tightly and 
trying to imagine that this was someone – anyone – 
else. It was a nice cock, he thought to himself, as he 
ran his tongue over it. One of the nicest he’d had 
and he’d tasted a few since first coming to The 
Dungeon. Mistress Velvet was always of the opinion 
that a good sub was a good sub and a good dom a 
good dom. It shouldn’t make any difference what 
gender you were – subs went with doms and vice 
versa. "It’s all just flesh at the end of the day," she 
said and Skinner had to agree with her. In fact, he 
rather enjoyed being dominated by someone of his 
own sex. He imagined what this hard cock would 
feel like stuffed up his ass and felt himself grow 
hard at the very thought of it. Damn Mulder for 
being such an attractive and increasingly assertive 
master! Damn, damn, damn. 
Mulder drew back, feeling about ready to burst. Not 
yet, he thought to himself. There’s more I want to do 
yet. While I have the chance.  
"All fours." He hissed, dragging Skinner’s neck 
chain down to the floor and treading on it to keep 
the man there. The harem pants had an elasticated 
waist and were easily pushed down, revealing two 
nice plump butt cheeks. Mulder grinned and 
accepted the lubricant Mistress Velvet passed to 
him. "Let’s play a while, shall we?" he grinned, 
spreading the lube over his fingers and inserting 
them gently but insistently inside his boss. "Oh this 
is good. You like this don’t you, you hot little 
slave!" Mulder pushed his fingers around, higher 
and deeper and Skinner groaned.  
"Please, master…" he whispered.  
"Yes? What is it, slave?" he replied, "are you 
enjoying the attention your master is giving you?" 
"Yes, master." Skinner gasped as Mulder gave his 
hand a shove. 
"Well then, act grateful." Mulder said, wriggling his 
fingertips. 
"Thank you, master!" Skinner said, breathing 
quickly. Mulder saw that the other man’s cock was 
sticking out in front of him like a flagpole. 
"Time for a ride!" he cried, withdrawing his fingers 
and positioning himself behind his slave, thrusting 
himself into him. Skinner gave a hoarse scream his 
thighs bucking backwards. Mulder sighed and eased 
himself further forward. Oh, this was good, this was 
damn good. He shoved himself back and forwards 
and as he did so, his hands travelled round to 
Skinner’s cock and he squeezed it. Skinner bucked 
again, his arse constricting tightly, sweetly around 
Mulder’s dick. With a gasp of delight, Mulder came. 
He bent forwards over his dazed slave and realised 
without surprise that his hand was covered in the 
other man’s come. Double whammy!
Mulder got up and threw himself onto some 
cushions.
"Here." He pulled Skinner over and caressed the 
other man’s head. Then he bent over and kissed 
him, insistently on the lips. "That was good, Foxy. 
Very good." He said, tiredly.
"Yes, master." Skinner was leaning back against his 
knees, his eyes closed, still panting. A few minutes 
later he struggled up and sat adoringly at Mulder’s 
knee. In his eyes shone the light of a truly willing 
and eager slave. There were no more criticisms, no 
more whispered comments. "Please let me serve 
you, master." He said, bowing forward and nudging 
Mulder’s hand, desperate for a caress. 
"Oh yes, Foxy. You can serve me. I’m going to be 
so cruel to you…." Mulder fantasised happily and 
Skinner put his head back, lapping it all up while 
Mulder played with his ears. Mistress Velvet smiled 
and wandered back to her parlour. It had all gone 
very well. The two had fully established the correct 
rapport and had no further need of her. Now she 
could turn her head to other matters. She was busy 
training up a new dominatrix. A promising girl with 
porcelain white skin and vivid red hair. Mistress 
Velvet was sure that she would turn out to be a very 
good dominatrix indeed.
Mulder dressed for work with some trepidation on 
Monday morning. Already Friday night seemed like 
a haze to him. Had they really spent all night 
doing….that? Hadn’t it just been a dream? He 
remembered that sometime around dawn, Mistress 
Velvet had called them both into her parlour and 
told them that they had passed their initiation test. 
He wasn’t sure he really cared by that point. All he 
wanted was to drag his slave back to one of the 
torture chambers where he had a nice few 
suspension chains set up. Skinner hadn’t been eager 
to stop either. The pair of them had stayed on, 
enjoying themselves for another few hours after 
Velvet had spoken to them. Mulder still felt 
physically and emotionally exhausted by the whole 
event. Skinner had said that they would never talk 
about it, but he wasn’t sure how he was going to 
cope. How could he go back to the "yes sir, no sir" 
routine, after what they had been through together?
He was due in a meeting in Skinner’s office first 
thing but he was late. Scully was there, bright and 
early as usual, taking notes. There were a whole 
bunch of other agents there as well but Mulder 
didn’t even spare them a glance. As he made his 
entrance, his gaze was fixed firmly on his boss, 
Assistant Director Walter Skinner, aka Foxy the 
slave. 
"You’re late, Mulder." Skinner barely even looked 
up.
"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." He slipped into a seat next to 
Scully and she gave him a sympathetic smile. 
Skinner was as brisk as usual. He ran through some 
notes, handed out some assignments and padded 
backwards and forwards between his desk and the 
circle of chairs where the agents were seated. He 
talked the same as normal, he walked the same as 
normal, except, Mulder thought he detected a 
particular clenched tightness to that walk. He 
grinned, peering at Skinner’s shirt, wondering 
whether he wore the nipple rings to work. God, he 
hoped he did. He liked the idea of that crisply 
laundered shirt concealing such a tantalising secret. 
Skinner handed out some files, his hand touching 
Mulder’s briefly as he passed his to him. The touch 
was electric and both men felt it. Their eyes met for 
a moment and then slid away. Mulder was 
disappointed. There had been nothing there. Not a 
glimmer of recognition in Skinner’s eyes. With a 
sigh he sat back and closed his eyes, longing to have 
Foxy back again, with his eager expression and 
puppy-like attentiveness. He remembered what it 
had felt like to lick that head. 
"Agent Mulder! Are we keeping you up?" Skinner’s 
voice rapped out, breaking through his reverie.
"Uh, no, sir. Sorry, sir." 
"Somebody’s had a heavy weekend." Skinner 
grunted, just the hint of a smile on his lips. 
"Concentrate if you please, Agent Mulder. I won’t 
be going through this twice." 
"No, sir. I mean, yes, sir. Oh whatever." He waved a 
hand in the air.
He could barely concentrate on the rest of the 
briefing and was relieved when Skinner finally told 
them they could go.
"Not you, Mulder." Skinner said. Mulder sighed as 
the other agents passed him by, grinning at him 
maliciously, delighted that he was in trouble again. 
Scully gave him another of her sympathetic smiles.
"You’re going to have to do better than this, 
Mulder." Skinner said to him when they were alone.
"Yes. I know. Sorry, sir." He gave a sheepish grin 
and stared at his shoes.
Skinner cleared his throat and went to stand looking 
out of the window, his back to Mulder.
"I know we agreed not to mention a certain 
something that happened a couple of nights ago…" 
he began.
"Yes, we did, sir." Mulder’s heart was thudding. 
What on earth was coming next?
"But I just wanted to say…" Skinner cleared his 
throat again. "That I rather enjoyed meeting Master 
X." Mulder bit his lip, not sure how to respond. 
Skinner turned round and slipped him a piece of 
paper. "That’s my phone number. If Master X 
should be in a certain mood, perhaps he’d like to 
give me a call?"
"Oh, I think that’s guaranteed, sir." He said with a 
grin, pocketing the slip of paper gleefully. 
"I look forward to it then." Skinner pushed his 
glasses further back on his nose and began to flick 
through some papers. "That’ll be all," he murmured. 
As Mulder made his way towards the door, he could 
have sworn that he heard his boss, muttering under 
his breath, add the word "master."
THE END
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