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Title: Whips, Chains and Murder
Rated: PG-17
Category: MT, Investigation
Spoiler(s): None
Summary: Mulder takes on more than he can handle when he
is assigned to investigate deaths of customers of a house
of ill repute.
Archive: Gossamer. I will take care of the rest. If you
ask politely, I will likely agree.
Disclaimer: All original X-Files characters and the basement
office are copyrighted by Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen
Productions and Fox Studios. No money is made of this hobby
and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Note: Written because Lisa at Mulder's Refuge
dared me to do so, as Mulder deserves to suffer "The Perils
of Ditching".
MADAME HUXLEY'S HOUSE OF DISCIPLINE
WASHINGTON, DC
11:15 PM
Mulder hung from the rope, his blood-stained shirt also
soaked with sweat. "Scully, if you'll just cut me down,
I can... Damn that's painful... I'll explain everything."
They were sitting in the basement of a century old house
in downtown Washington. All sorts of chains, whips and
restraints abounded.
Scully almost smiled, but held back as it would seem
cruel. It did seem fitting that once again Mulder was in
danger because he hadn't bothered to inform his partner
of his investigation. But she couldn't bear to see a
grown man in pain. Perhaps it was the doctor in her, she
reasoned. She untied the ropes that hung him from the
ceiling, and lit into him as she did so. "I know that
three federal judges, a very prominent senator and
fifteen so-called 'disciplinarians' were just hauled away
before I arrived, but THIS... THIS is something I was
sure you'd never be doing without telling me!"
Once again Mulder's feet touched the concrete floor of
the cellar. "All in a day's work, and it was work. It
wasn't an X-File, I know. And it wasn't exactly one of
your everyday Bureau assignments. Honestly, Scully, it
came across my desk while you were in Canada at the
forensics seminar, and we were short staffed."
"Uh huh. So talk while I'm cleaning those wounds of
yours."
"Please don't use the stinging concoction... "
"It's the best part, Mulder. Disinfects and reminds you
of your folly. Besides, you knew I'd be back an hour
before you began this assignment." Scully dabbed the
horrible red antiseptic onto her partner's back, which
showed whip marks.
Mulder cringed with each swipe of the cotton. "Ow! I
know technically I ditched you, but try to go easy on me.
We got a tip that several prominent officials were frequent
customers at Madame Huxleys, so Skinner roped me in..."
J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING
WASHINGTON, DC
48 HOURS EARLIER
Skinner stood in front of seven male agents, one of whom
was Mulder. "I realize we've all been over worked, but
as you can see, this particular case merits our attention.
Let's just say we need to be discreet and dispense with
the matter quickly, before the media beats us to the
punch."
"Correct me if I'm wrong, Sir, but isn't this a civic
matter?" A balding blond agent insisted.
"Not when it's becomes an interstate matter," Skinner
explained. "It seems this type of thing has no...
borders."
Mulder smiled. "So, we're investigating Perverts Without
Borders." His normally droll demeaner actually brought
the house down. "Cool."
When the men had finally calmed down, Skinner continued
his instructions. "As there have been several deaths
linked to Madame Huxley's operation, I would advise
extreme caution. We have to protect the... "
"Perverts?" the balding man chuckled. The others followed.
"Emerson, no one's perfect, and as we all know, there are
people of other professions involved aside from politicians
and judges. One of the most recent customers to go missing
is a father of four. His body was found in a dumpster three
hours ago, and I had the unpleasant task of telling that
garage mechanic's family that their Dad wasn't coming home.
Scott McGillivray, 32. His was the fifth homicide linked to
that establishment. Now, let's get this operation underway."
Skinner stood. "I mean now. Mulder, I know this isn't your
usual area, but get a profile on the killer. Scully will be
home soon, but she's off the clock for a few days." Stern,
stoic and blunt. That was Skinner. "Emerson, Stinson, look
into the neighborhood informants. Dawson, Fedak and Nash,
police reports and the Chief of Police has some men ready
to go. Millbank, try to pass yourself off as a client.
Mulder? Where are you?"
"Yes, Sir." He preferred to throw pencils toward the
ceiling in the X-Files Office, but at least this was honest
work, and Scully was out of town. Still, he could just
picture Scully undercover in a French maid's outfit,
wielding a whip. He shook his head and smiled. "Naw", he
thought. Then he heard a familiar voice. "I'm on it, Sir."
"Then let's go."
The agents closed their folders and took their places in
the investigation.
***
CAPITOL AUTOMOTIVE REPAIR
WASHINGTON, DC
Mulder parked his car outside of the locked repair bays and
noted the sign on the office door. "Closed Due To Death
In Family." He knocked on the door.
A grey-haired man shook his head and pointed to the note.
"Federal Agent!"
The man opened the door. "Please, don't shout. I'm not one
to broadcast this to the nation," the man whispered in a
strong Scottish accent.
Mulder stepped inside. "I take it you're Mr. McGillivray.
Scott's father?"
"Aye. Though now I wonder if I should admit it. My only
son murdered by whorehouse miscreants. Well, state your
business, Mr ?"
"Mulder. Special Agent Fox Mulder. Do you have any address
books, phone numbers, maybe re-dial numbers stored on the
business line that could help us?"
"Aye. Be my guest. Not that I'd keep such numbers, but my
son was the proprietor of the place. I just did the
books."
Mulder rumaged through customer accounts and then undertook
the phone. "You don't buy parts from a Madame H, I
suppose."
"Hell no! Well, get the number, find out how many times
Scott called the bitch and get out. Me and his missus are
about to plan a funeral."
"I realize you're angry, but I'm going to find out who
killed your son, and I'll be on my way after I take down
this information. This is the only number dialed more
than twelve times? And four kids... "
"Bloody stupid, lame-brained sex maniac. My only son."
"No other children?" Mulder asked politely.
"Nine daughters, and don't you say he took after his old
man! They're all accounted for under the wife and myself!"
Mulder realized he needed to tread carefully around this
man. "So, I'll be off with this information, and I'm
sorry to bother you. I know it's a bad time... "
"Hell no. Now Margaret, my eldest daughter, she takes
over the place. Damn well-trained, too. And a staunch
Presbyterian. She can re-build an engine with her eyes
closed."
"I can imagine." Mulder backed toward the door. "Thanks
for your co-operation, Mr. McGillivray."
"Hmmph!" was all the man could add.
2360 HEGAL PLACE
ALEXANDRIA, VA
THAT EVENING
Mulder tossed the remaining crust of a pizza slice into
the wastebasket beside his desk and continued to go through
the Huxley House file. Armed with the telephone number
culled from McGillivray's speed dial, he was ready to go
undercover. It was time to call Millbank and get the
festivities underway. But first, he dialed Scully's number.
The answering machine kicked in, so he presumed she was
taking her time coming home. Well, at least he had tried.
There was no sense leaving a message, because she was still
considered off duty, he reasoned. Her take on it would have
been ditching. "We cover each other's backs," she had
insisted on a number of occasions. But that didn't stop him
from forging ahead. Besides, this wasn't her assignment. He
was on loan from the usual fare. He dialed his temporarily
assigned partner.
"Millbank."
"It's Mulder. I've got a contact number. With any luck,
we should be in there soon. Tomorrow night, we are Madame
Huxley's newest clients."
"Yeah. I guess I'm Senator Hildebrand from Oklahoma. No,
make that an Admiral." The man stirred his coffee
nervously. "So who are you, Mulder?" The man poured whiskey
into his mug, trembling.
"I thought I'd pose as a profiler for the FBI, seeing as
I'm not that 'Spooky' fella they're all crazy about. Well,
actually I'm a professor of psychology from Yale. You
ready to make an appointment with Madame Huxley and her
therapists?"
"Right. Let's just hope some of your friends beam us out
in time for -- Hello?"
"I'll call ahead and book us some discipline. We've been
very naughty boys. Tomorrow night, it's time for Madame
Huxley to close down." Mulder ended the call and dialed.
MADAME HUXLEY'S DISCIPLINE CENTER
8:00 PM
Millbank and Mulder arrived at what appeared to be a normal,
century old house in the middle of the city.
Mulder rang the buzzer three times as instructed by the
woman who had booked the appointments. "Are you ready for
a flogging, Admiral Flank?"
"Uh yeah. Laugh, Dr. Lamont. You're in for some
confinement and pain yourself. Just remember that van around
the corner may be listening in through that flower I'll drop
from my lapel, but that doesn't guarantee much more than
tee-hee's if we're found out and thrown out."
"Relax and do your job. Is that the mayor coming this way?"
"Yeah. Third divorce."
A young woman in a business suit bade Mulder and Millbank a
welcome and ushered them into the house. "Madame will be
with you shortly to discuss your needs. Please make
yourselves comfortable. Some refreshment, perhaps?"
Both men shook their heads. Mulder eyed the stiletto heels
the lanky brunette was wearing and tried to picture his
regular partner, Scully, balancing in those little numbers.
"Very well. You will be served very soon. Our brochure for
your perusal, and our staff are trained to meet all criteria
for all services offered. Choose what you wish. It's our
pleasure to serve you." The woman gave a seemingly knowing
smile and retreated to another room.
Millbank read the brochure intently, while Mulder glanced
through the photos. "My wife should try wearing some of
these get ups," Millbank tittered. "What is it with vinyl
these days?"
Mulder grinned. "Well... " Mulder cleared his throat. "There
are so many fetishes I'd need a couple of hours to go through
them. Personally, I might like to have the "Mutiny On The
Bounty" treatment."
Millbank sighed. "Little Red Riding Hood Gives Big Bad Wolf
A Lesson." The man was clearly uncomfortable, and the agents
in the van were close to hysterical laughter. "I know, guys.
Not ALL of us are into these things. I'm... a family man."
"Well, family man, remember to keep that daisy within earshot
when you face Little Red Riding Hood. Hey, looks like the
costume bottoms out."
"Well, I hope the wench you get... Hang on. Look who's
here!"
Mulder glanced at the doorway. "Assistant Director Thoreau.
No... It's okay. He's going straight upstairs. Probably
has the menu memorized. You can take that book off of your
face now, Millbank."
"That was close. Damn close. He wasn't at the meeting.
Just what is he up to?"
Mulder just grinned. Well, it seemed like a pun to him.
"Hey, he could expose the operation, Mulder."
"He's probably up to whatever they have to offer."
About five minutes later, Madame Huxley made her grand
entrance. She was a middle-aged, tiny woman, and her make-
up was more than excessive, but she seemed to have a warm
manner. "Welcome to Madame Huxley's House of Discipline.
I see you've been reading our list. Your names, please?"
"Dr. Fred Lamont. Just flew in from Ohio."
"Admiral Augustus Flank."
"Ah yes. We were expecting you. And what have you chosen
for your pleasure?"
"'Mutiny On The Bounty' and I'm ready to sail," Mulder
said with a wink.
"Um, I'll have... 'The B-big Bad Wolf'," Millbank
stuttered.
The lady smiled at him with a twinkle in her eye. "Now you
just relax, Admiral. Our first time customers are treated
with the utmost respect and confidentiality. Verna will be
down in a minute to serve you, Admiral. Dr. Lamont,
Maylene will be ready to serve you very soon. Remember,
all services rendered are payable to Lorelei Huxley by check
only, and only to Lorelei Huxley. The pleasure is all ours."
Madame Huxley exited the room and left Millbank sweating
and Mulder leafing through the brochure.
"BDSM in the nation's capitol," Mulder whispered. "Who
woulda thought?"
Millbank swept the sweat from his forehead and wiped his
hands on his pants. "Don't forget the murders, dammit! If
we blow this one, either they get us or the Bureau does,
and I'm not cut out for this assignment. Why the hell am
I here
anyway...?"
"Shut up, Millbank!" Mulder leaned over to the daisy in
his cohort's lapel. "He's not leaving, guys. Stay cool,
pal, and let's get this operation underway. Back-up is
right around the corner."
A luscious blonde in a captain's outfit, obviously
representing Captain Bligh, appeared. "I'm Maylene, and you
don't speak unless I allow it, the whip is mighty handy,
and let's have a great session, Mr. Christian!" It was a
pity she just exuded sensuality and worked in this place,
but Mulder stood and followed her to the basement.
Millbank's disciplinarian was a medium brown haired,
vivacious young woman, dressed according to the menu, her
ample breasts threatening to fall out of the low bodice
of her lacy red dress. "Ready to play, you naughty,
naughty wolf?"
"Y-y-yes," Millbank managed to say. "It's... it's... "
"It's your first time, honey." The girl caressed his face
and licked her lips. "I can liberate you in ways you've
never imagined... But let's get rid of the flower. Trina
is allergic, and we've been so busy lately."
There went the connection. Mulder and Millbank were no
longer audible. The daisy sat in a trash bin in the
parlor.
"Damn. They're pros," Skinner grumbled in the van. "Are
you picking up anything?"
"No Sir. I don't hear Mulder or Millbank. There's a guy
asking for the 'Salad Toss', but other than that, nothing.
Save to tape anyway?"
"May as well. We give them ten minutes, then go in armed.
Flack jackets are NOT optional, people."
Scully had returned to the Washington area, and been to
the office. As there was nothing on her schedule for the
day, she decided to look in on the investigation. Her car
was parked a block away from the Huxley House. Skinner
turned as she entered the back of the van.
"Agent Scully. I didn't expect you to come down here."
"Well, I thought I'd drop by to see what's going on, as my
partner is on the case. What's going on?"
"We're going in soon. Lost contact with Mulder and
Millbank. If you want in, grab a flack jacket and listen
to a replay of what we managed to get before
communications went down."
Scully frowned as she heard Mulder and Millbank, then their
'disciplinarians'. "This is the murdered mechanic case,
isn't it? Weren't there four others?"
"I'm afraid so, Agent Scully."
"Mulder knows I'm back by now. We agreed to maintain
contact in the event anything happened in the other's
absence. Damm!"
Skinner looked at his watch. "All right. Local police are
here, so let's go in!"
After the door was forced, the police and Federal Agents
stormed through the house, arresting five prominent
professionals and their 'disciplinarians', in various
states of undress, arousal and encumberment.
The Big Bad Wolf had been handcuffed to a chair face down
and was in the process of a whipping when another agent
ordered his mistress to "Freeze."
As for Fletcher Christian, of the H.M.S. Bounty... Scully
had raced down to the cellar with a local sergeant to
discover her partner dressed in the old swashbuckler's
attire, bloodied shirt ripped open and the man almost
unconscious. "Freeze! Federal Agents! Mulder? We need
to get you cleaned up."
The police sergeant read the dominatrix her rights.
"I hope that isn't an indictment of my lifestyle." he
whispered hoarsely.
Scully beamed, knowing that her partner and best friend
was going to be relatively safe. "Wait until I get my first
aid kit. Why didn't you call me?"
"I didn't want to spoil your time away from me," he managed
to joke. "How was the seminar, anyway? No, put the red
stuff away. Enough pain already."
Skinner wanted to personally arrest Madame Huxley. "How did
you know we had feds here?"
"Written all over their faces. If they ain't already got
it up, and they sweat, that tells it all. You can count on
the haircuts." Ms. Huxley replied. "I wasn't born yesterday.
Besides, the Wolf was sweatin' like a virgin on honeymoon
night..."
Scully tossed aside the used cotton balls. "You're going to
need an antibiotic, just in case. Who knows what that
whip's been in contact with."
"If I told you, you might not respect your local
Congressman," Mulder quipped. "Let's get the hell away from
here."
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