Venus in Furs by AWnon

STORIES ON THIS SITE ARE INTENDED FOR ADULTS ONLY

Obligatory disclaimer- All the characters included in this story are the property of Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen Productions. No copyright infringement is intended. Since Mr. Carter has stated that there will be no romantic involvement between the characters of Mulder & Scully, I am fairly sure he would be aghast at the use I have made of his creations. Sorry, Mr. Carter.

Song words are by Lou Reed and are performed by The Velvet Underground. Copyright 1967 WARNING! THIS STORY IS NC-17. Not so much for its graphic portrayal of sex, but for the way the sex is handled. First we had fairly straight X-rated stories, then slash and last the wonderful story- Fantasy. I have decided to push this envelope just a little more (or a lot depending on your sensibilities). This is definitely for the "alternative" crowd and shows scenes of bondage and mild consensual torture.

Venus in Furs by AWnon

It was 11:57 PM

Special Agent Fox Mulder lay in a restless doze on his futon, an afghan carelessly covering his naked body. In the corner, a TV showed several intertwined bodies sheened with sweat as they wrestled and groaned their way through yet another porno movie. The radio was playing softly and the melody began to weave itself into his dreams.

"Shiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather…"

Mulder's dreams were as dark as the thoughts that surrounded him in his waking life. He could hear in the far off blackness, a faint sound of bells.

From somewhere, Mulder's partner Special Agent Dana Scully appeared in a pool of shadowy light, a Scully that Mulder had never seen at the office. Gone were the sensible pantsuits and skirts, gone was the no-nonsense attitude that was her normal, daytime persona. This was the Scully that lived only in Mulder's fantasies, a Scully with a come-hither look on her face and clad only in a dazzling floor length white ermine and with legs sheathed in high heeled leather.

"Whiplash, girl child, in the dark… "

The radiant white ermine draped around Scully's naked form slipped off one creamy shoulder.

From somewhere in the darkness, a whip crackled and a thin line of blood trickled down her back. Mulder moaned.

"Comes in bells, your servant all forsaken. . .

From the darkness, Mulder could again hear the faint jangling of bells. Slowly, he approached Scully.

"Strike dear mistress and cure his heart."

The sound of a whip and the kiss of thongs on Mulder's naked back. Scully laughed as a faint trickle of blood edged its way across Mulder's chest. One hand traveled lightly over her naked body, framed by the seductive coat of fur, teasing and tantalizing an increasingly aroused Mulder. The hand traveled over her full, round breasts, her nipples hardening in the air, her fingers massaging them into peaks. Mulder found himself gasping for air, unable to tear his eyes away as Scully's hand continued to caress herself. Her leather-clad legs spread wide and Scully fingered the red curls of her pubic hair. Mulder could see a faint gleam of moisture and he moaned, his penis stiffening into an almost painful arousal. He barely noticed Scully's other hand, flicking a cat-'o-nine tails, the leather stained a faint red.

"Downy sins of streetlight fancies…"

The light became defined as a single shaded streetlight. Scully posed there, hair as red as fire. Mulder moaned, his body alive with fire as well, wanting to touch her, bury his face in her breasts and knowing that she was now and forever unapproachable. Knowing that he would never be worthy of her. Knowing that he could never ask her for or receive the love he needed.

"Choose the costumes she shall wear…"

A black lace garter belt enclosed Scully's waist, the tops of her stockings edging the thigh-high boots she wore. Mulder could feel his nipples hardening, longing to touch, just once, her creamy thighs. Framed by the black lace was a triangular patch of darker fire, beckoning to him with a promise of fulfillment. "Scully, oh. Scully." His hand found his engorged penis and began an urgent rhythmic stroking.

"Ermine furs adorn imperious. Sevrin, Sevrin awaits you there."

Mulder wanted to fling Scully down, spread the fur around and over them, he wanted to kiss those lips that so mesmerized him by day. He wanted to feel the silky hair slid through his fingers, he wanted to smell the scent of her on his hands, on his body. He wanted to make her cry out with passion, he wanted to make her gasp as he buried his length in her soft wet willingness.

"I am tired, I am weary, I could sleep for a thousand years.
A thousand dreams that would awake me,
Different colors made of tears…"

Faces swam in the darkness, faces of those who he had tried to love and whom he had failed, Samantha, Phoebe and above all, Scully. He saw again the photo of her bound and gagged in the trunk of that car, heard her call to him for help, just as his sister had done. And, like his sister, he had failed Scully. He began to cry silently.

Watching him, a single tear traced its way down Scully's face and then fell soundlessly to the floor, shattering into a prismatic pool.

"Kiss the boot of shiny, shiny leather,
Shiny leather in the dark . . "

Mulder found himself kneeling before Scully, caressing her boot, the stiffening in his groin going more pronounced as his lips touched the leather. Scully had her head thrown back, full breasts gleaming in the half light and framed by white fur. Her eyes were slitted and Mulder could not stop himself from running his hands over the leather encasing her leg. His breathing became more ragged.

"Tongue of thongs, The belt that does await you.
"Strike dear mistress and cure his heart."

Teasingly, Scully raised her whip hand and trailed the knotted thongs across Mulder's bent back. Mulder groaned in anticipation, his body in an agony of unfilled need. Scully raised the whip and brought it back down again, harder this time and even harder the next. The pain was a glorious ecstasy to Mulder, mingling his sense of worthlessness with his overwhelming desire for Scully. He wasn't worthy of her. He never would be. And this would be his punishment. His eyes closed and his nipples hardened in anticipation.

"Sevrin, Sevrin speak so slightly"

Mulder found himself again on his back, Scully standing over him, legs straddling his naked body. The hem of her fur teased his skin, sending fire wherever it touched. Mulder's hand stroked his nipples, wandered across his chest, down his stomach and refound his penis, engorged with need. He began stroking even harder, in rhythm to the half-heard song's harsh, grating beat. His breathing intensified and he tossed his head from side to side, moaning Scully's name, the one he seldom used- "Dana, please, oh, Dana…"

"Sevrin down on your bended knee."

Mulder again knelt before Scully…

"Taste the whip in love not given lightly…"

He deserved this sweet torment. He had never been worthy of being loved. Not by his parents, not by Phoebe, and certainly not by Dana. And this was to be his penance, to be chastised by the kiss of leather, always wanting his partner and knowing he could never allow her to know.

"Taste the whip - now bleed for me."

He knew he was at the brink now, so he slowed his pace, wanting this exquisite pleasure to last. He could almost feel the slight weight of Scully's body as she again straddled him, caressing his nipples with the tips of the cat-o-nine tails. The sensation of the leather thongs stroking his chest was a sweet torment of sensation. He arched his back, moaning with need, trying to find release. The whip struck harder, teasing another thin thread of blood from across his chest.

Dana kneeled over him, the tips of her breasts just tantalizingly out of reach - "Not yet, Mulder. Not yet." Her voice was a seductive purr. Her hand again found her pubic hair and she rubbed her fingers languidly across the opening, teasing him with its promise. He could feel the wetness just grazing his penis and he bit back a cry of frustration. His stroking became even more rapid, his penis straining to bury itself in her.

"I am tired, I am weary. I could sleep for a thousand years.
A thousand dreams that would awake me,
Different colors made of tears."

Mulder was crying now, from both need and frustration. He was almost there, a single bead of moisture emerging from the head of Mulder's straining penis. His hands clenched at the afghan. "Dana, please, Dana." He strained forward, trying to taste the breasts that seemed always out of reach. The soft fur caressed his body, sending him into a fever-pitch. He needed to feel himself inside her, feel her body rocking above his own. He needed to see her face contort with the pleasure he knew only he could give her. He need to hear her sweet voice calling him "Fox" as she cascaded over the edge, taking him with her.

"Shiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather…"
Whiplash girl child in the dark
Sevrin, your servant comes in bells, please don't forsake him.
Strike dear mistress and cure his heart."

"Dana, please, Dana, Oh, God, Dana, please…"

And the cat-o-nine tails cracked once more, then he was over the top, coming with a force he would never have believed possible. Wave after wave of sensation overcame him as his body spasmed again and again. With a last gasp of "Dana...", Mulder spiraled downwards into his first real deep sleep of the night, a peaceful, sated smile on his lips.

- end -