My tale starts way back in December, when my comrade's pulled me, half dead
and reeking of my own bodily fluids from an abandoned missile silo in North
Dakota.
I was lucky that in my organization whenever an operative fails to check in
at the pre-arranged time, a team is sent out to find him or her. I was two
weeks past my assigned time and a few hours to being past my 'personal' due
date; judging by the filth that was scrubbed off of my person afterward.
It took me awhile, but after recuperating in a safe house, my superiors sent
me back to Russian for re-conditioning.
Along with the re-conditioning, I was put through four weeks of grueling
intelligence training. Apparently being over taken by a hostile being and
locked in the dark for two weeks isn't quite enough of an excuse, from my
employers point of view, for not making the assigned check in call.
Six months and four assassinations later, my immediate superior called me
into his office one day and informed me that I was to be sent on a new
mission.
He was grinning like my aunty Elena's tabby after it ate my cousins canary.
The old fool leaned over the desk and said to me as he leered, "This mission
Krycek, will redeem you after the dreadful events of last winter."
"Redeem me?" I thought. Whatever, it's not like he ever had to live
like a cockroach for a fortnight or anything even remotely close to that
experience.
The way the old military goat was looking at me made me more than a little
nervous. I had heard the rumor around the base, that on Friday nights the
general liked to get drunk on vodka and inspect the new recruits in his
private quarters; one jug eared lad at a time.
Thank god I was well past the young and vulnerable age of the new
soldiers being brought in. Or else I might get the idea that it was my ass
the general had a hankering for, especially with the way he was licking his
lips and talking to me.
I was hoping that it was the promise of chicken Kiev for dinner on the mess
halls menu that was making his mouth water and not my bod.
At any rate, I'm sure his wife didn't appreciate the rumors, false or
otherwise. I sat there and listened to him as he droned on, nodding my
head and looking very much like a ventriloquists dummy; all wooden and
still. I wondered what kind of mission he could be sending me on, after
all, it's not like he could give a rats ass whether or not I was redeemed in
the 'superiors' eyes.
Probably a suicide mission then.
The general poured a pair of room temperature vodka's, handed me mine, then
he wiped the wolfish stare off of his mottled face and began to fill me in.
"Comrade Krycek." He said, "I have been informed by field intelligence that
two soil samples as well as a rock from the Tunguska gulag have been
smuggled out of the country. They are bound for the United States in a few
weeks, as soon as the dust has settled."
Now he didn't bother explaining to me what the Tunguska gulag was, or what
all the fuss over a rock and some dirt was about. But I had heard through
the grapevine to figure out what went on at the gulag anyway. He assumed
that the going's on there were secret. Every grunt at the installation knew
that the gulag was a testing sight for a vaccine.
A vaccine that was believed to be successful against an alien virus also
referred to as the black cancer. Yeah, right! He along with every other
high ranking Russian had assumed wrong.
I sat there, my back straight and sipped my vodka. I nodded my head in all
the right places as he continued to brief me.
"You are to intercept the rock, an other operative will take care of the
soil samples. We have reason to believe that the rock's point of entry to
the United States will be at Dulles Airport in Virginia. A territory you
are familiar with."
"Where will the soil samples enter?" I asked, knowing that the fat, already
half cut general wouldn't tell me anyways. But hey, an agent has to try,
right?
"That is not your concern Krycek." The general said blandly as he poured
more vodka for the both of us. "I need you to worry about the rock. We
have been in contact with a far right extremist group based in the eastern
U.S. We will provide you with some 'materials' for that group. You are to
make contact and tell them that you are interested in making a bomb or two.
Cull these people into your confidence and then turn them over to the
American authorities. Agent Mulder perhaps. Use whatever means are
necessary to locate and retrieve that rock. Time is of the essence Krycek,
I don't need to tell you that."
"Why don't you want the rock in American hands? What's in it?" I thought I
knew the answers to these questions as well, but I figured that I would see
if the general's tongue, loosened by alcohol, would give up some secrets.
The general gulped in vodka and poured another three fingers into his
tumbler.
"The rock is a vital secret to a vaccine that the country is working on. We
want to keep the intelligence in Russia and the sell the recipe to the
Americans. Mother Russia is poor and she needs the money."
Obviously booze could loosen up the general's usually tight lips. That was
a good thing to know, I filed away the information for possible use against
him in the future.
The general handed me over a small folder containing the cover story I was
to give to the militia group. Then he said, "Go by an alias of your
choosing. But here is your pedigree."
The whole time the general was briefing me, my face had remained even,
almost featureless. It was a skill I had worked hard at acquiring. But
while my outside remained calm, my interior was heating up. I knew which
American authority I planned on handing over the extremist sect too. Just
the mere thought of Fox Mulder got my blood boiling, and it wasn't boiling
in anger either.
Mr. GQ FBI agent. Tall, hazel-eyed and completely oblivious to his effect
on other people. He had had such a big effect on me while I was with the
FBI and in our short time together that I had managed to acquire quite the
crush on the slightly older man.
Now he had no idea that I was smitten with him, or that I fell into bed
every night jerking my dick off to the sight of him. And it certainly
wouldn't do for him to find that out...ever.
It had been a long time since I had laid eyes on that tall drink of water,
I no longer felt this was a suicide mission and I could not wait to be on my
way.
Considering that the last time we had come together I was under the
influence of the viral alien, this meeting with Mulder should go, if nothing
else, a lot more smoothly.
Boy was I in for a big surprise. But at the time, I was only elated at the
thought of seeing Mulder one more time.
Once briefed, the general sucked back some more vodka and declared that
since it was Friday, he was due to inspect the soldiers any minute now.
Well, there was one rumor that was true after all.
I had seen the generals wife before and there was little wonder why the
general had a hankering to examine the troops. I'd go for the boys in the
barracks too if my wife resembled a donkey.
So off the general walked, or rather half staggered out of his office and in
search of a piece of tight, naive, new recruit farm boy ass.
He left me just sitting there, so I took the opportunity to peruse my
papers and get my plan laid out inside of my head. Thirty minutes later I
got up to go, leaving my untouched, second glass of vodka behind. Jesus how
I hate booze without the rocks to cool it down!
A few hours after that, I was on a plane headed for the U S of A and Fox
Mulder.
After connecting with the militia group, all of them nothing more bunch of
societal misfits hiding their racist tendencies behind the American flag, I
set about casting a hook for a bigger fish.
I knew Mulder would be an easy catch, so it was no real surprise when he
bit at the bait, the bait being the receipts for goods purchased. I had him
on the end of my rod now all I needed to do was reel him in.
"Too bad," I mused to myself as the cube van we had rented was pulling up
to the pick-up sight, that I couldn't snag Mulder using an "other bait and a
different type of rod."
I assumed that Fox Mulder was as het as they came. Too bad, cause his
runners ass would have made for a good time had by both parties involved.
Mind you, now that I think of it, there were a few times, back when we were
partners when he gave off some very different signals. He often asked me
about my wardrobe choices, and though that in itself would not indicate a
man's sexuality, he usually was fiddling with my tie while he was asking me.
As well, I know I caught him checking my ass out in the bureau's showers
after he had convinced me that I should try swimming with him. Of course, I
chose to show off by blinding him with several great dives that I had
perfected while in training for the Russian intelligence agency.
He was suitably impressed and then it was his turn to display his
unflagging stamina, by power swimming his last four lengths before getting
out of the water.
Ahh, yes, all the signals were being sent out back then. So why did I not
see them for what they were and respond with a tiny gesture that would lead
us to the bedroom?
Perhaps I was blinded by the smoke.
Nevertheless, he had been interested at the time.
I also have some memories of the last time we had ran into each other. If I
am recalling correctly, it seemed that he couldn't keep his hands off me
that time either.
Too bad he had felt the need to head butt me as opposed to giving me head
and ream my butt. Now, I know that was wishful thinking on my part, but a
bereft man can dream too.
When he had caught up to me in Hong Kong, I was caught off guard, and when
he nailed me in the airport I knew that I had to come up with an alternate
plan.
That's the great thing about being in the spy business, you can always
change your plans to suit your needs and to cover your ass.
Well I digress, as I was saying before, Mulder had caught me at the Hong
Kong airport and whacked me a good one in the old noggin. Then he bullied
me back into a bank of payphones and stripped me of my gun. As he was
feeling around in back of me, he took the opportunity to give my ass an
extra squeeze.
Geeze, I was ever glad that I had chosen to stash the illegal weapon at
the back of my jeans rather than in my boot like I was going to do in the
first place.
And while he had me pinned and was groping around for my weapon, I thought I
could feel something hard through his tailored trousers. More wishful
thinking on that respect? Maybe, maybe not.
I do know that smokey had nothing to do with us not getting together that
time.
That goddamned oil slicked alien had blown my chances, to er... get blown or
vice versa. I really think if given an opportunity, Mulder and I could have
become members of the 'high flyers' club.
Well I suppose there's always this time around to get things right.
Like I already said, as I sat there in the passenger seat of the cube van, I
looked around the dark, sleazy streets of the meeting place and I wondered
where Mulder was. I knew he was there, I could feel him. And along with
him, is his snapping Pomeranian of a partner, Scully. I could feel her too.
Things got a little hairy with the commando team rushing in, and the next
thing I know is that the van and the militia group are under siege. The
crazy driver decides that he's going to save me along with himself.
The swat team had swarmed in on the members like ants on a piece of
chicken at the company picnic and the van is chased by two, black clad
'soldiers'.
I peered into the mirror at my door for a better look at who is following
us, and then I smiled knowingly to myself. It's Mulder and Scully that's
chasing the slow moving truck.
Deciding that this was my best chance, and knowing the probable outcome and
consequences, I drew my gun and said to Daniel, "Sorry comrade, but this is
where I get off." Then I shot the shocked fool in the head, killing him
instantly.
Luckily, I wasn't hurt as the van smashed into a parked car and came to a
halt. I knew I was going to be called on the carpet by Mulder for the
shooting. But really, Daniel, if given enough incentive was crazy enough to
volunteer to drive a suicide vehicle, big bomb and all, into a crowed
justice building.
So I reasoned to myself as Mulder was warily approaching my door and
shouting something out like 'I counted two men', that I had just
potentially save hundreds of innocent people from an untimely and certainly
grisly demise.
Mulder however, would not see things my way, as usual.
I peered into the large door mirror and saw that he was standing at the side
of the truck; shotgun ready for anything. I wondered if the adrenaline rush
of such dangerous activities ever gave him a hard on like it did to me.
Though, luckily, I did not have one tonight. Mind you, I was on the wrong
end of the firearm for such thing to happen anyways.
"Get out of the Truck!" He hollered authoritatively.
Not wishing to get shot, I tossed my piece out of the car window. Then I
thought that perhaps I should have hidden it on my person, then he would
have had to go looking for it. Damn. Next time. With the way my luck's
been going lately, I reasoned, Scully would be the one to frisk me, then
accidently kick me in the balls when she was done.
No, better not to risk the wrath of the mistress Scully. Better to get rid
of the piece. I opened the door and climbed out slowly.
"Let me see your hands! Hands in the air!" He shouted to me. Then, I saw
recognition dawn over his handsome face as he realized who it was that he
was dealing with now. Of course, I wasn't counting on receiving a shot gun
butt to the guts for my troubles, but he let me have it anyways. He raised
the shotgun, and for just a second there, I thought that he might really
fire it at me. I had hoped however, that he was just posturing for my sake
and his.
Scully, mildly horrified that her partner would abuse a suspect simply
shouted, "Mulder." In a warning tone.
I had to come up with something and fast. It's not that easy to lie when
you're out of breath and laying on the ground in a heap. So, amazingly, I
opted for the truth. Or rather the truth as I chose to tell it.
"I handed you this bust, Mulder!" I hissed, sucking air into my lungs and
scowling up at the righteously angry agent at the same time.
"Oh, come on, Krycek!" He said, not wanting to believe me. But I could tell
that he did.
"Who do you think sent you those receipts?" I question, still trying to
catch my breath.
While Scully kept an eye on me, Mulder had me lean against the side of van
and spread wide for him. Too bad we weren't in the bedroom, then I could of
shown how to really spread 'em wide.
He ran his hands up and down my legs and in and out of my coat and pockets.
When he got around to checking my balls, he cupped them tightly and held his
hand there for just a beat longer than what would have been considered
decent.
If little red noticed, she said nothing about it.
Then he pulled out his cuffs, and in my opinion, took way too much pleasure
in locking on the steel bracelets. "Damn!" I thought, when he snapped them
closed. "Now I'm stuck in these."
In the back of my mind I knew that I would somehow end up in the cuffs
anyway; and me with out a spare key stuck under my tongue. Next time I 'll
try to remember to conceal a key.
Once cuffed, Mulder shoved me around some, making sure he got in real close
to me. I grinned inwardly to myself. So I wasn't just imagining things
before.
Fox Mulder had let his secret out; he did have a thing for me; bad boy Alex
Krycek. Or perhaps that was a gun in his pocket pressing into the cleft of
my ass after all. Not likely though.
I played it cool however, after all I didn't want to scare him... yet.
This assignment, handcuffs and rough handling, notwithstanding, had started
to look up.
The pair of agents dragged me here and there, then the three of us wound up
in the warehouse looking over all of the main ingredients for cooking up a
bomb. Mulder asked me where they had come from, so again, I told him the
truth.
"Most of the detonation cord was stolen from a construction site, and some
of the explosives were just taken from a military base. I mean, security's
just so lax, it's a joke..."
I knew that last bit would anger him, and I was right, he shoved me back,
forcing me to sit on stacked up bags of pig fertilizer. Nonplussed, I cont
inued with my explanation.
"Most everything else was over the counter. Two thousand kilos of
boom-boom." I said whispering, in what I hoped was a half way sexy voice.
By the look on his face, I couldn't tell whether he bought the husky voice
thing or not.
"How'd you get involved with these men?" Scully asked me. I had almost
forgotten that she was here.
Conjuring up a lie to go with the two truths I had already told I said,
"They found me in North Dakota. They liberated me on a salvage hunt."
The leader of the militia, a man named Mayhew, was staring at me as he was
being pushed into the back a radio car, he nodded knowingly at me. I
think he thought that I was giving the fibbies a line of bullshit to protect
the group. Boy, was he wrong. I couldn't give shit about him, or his
minions.
I looked up at Mulder and said to him alone, "Hey, you go underground, you
gotta learn to live with the rats." Then I looked down at my feet, there
was way to much truth in that statement.
At any rate, I don't think he liked what I said because he slapped my ball
cap off, and pushed back my forehead, forcing me to look up at him.
"I'm sure you had no trouble adapting." He said.
Okay, time to try the truth again. "These men are pathetic revolutionaries
who'll kill innocent Americans in the name of bonehead ideologies." I
thought that sounded pretty good.
"You're full of crap, Krycek. You're an invertebrate scum-sucker whose
moral dipstick is about two drops short of bone dry." He said to me. If he
was trying to hurt my feelings, it wasn't working. Sticks 'n' stones and
all that shit.
Time to pepper the truth again, so I stood up and went nose to nose with
him. "Hey! I love this country." God, if he'd only known how much I
wanted to kiss that fat bottom lip of his.
He however, had other plans and shoved me back down. Once again, Scully
spoke, breaking up our little tete'a'tete.
What a killjoy.
"What do you want Krycek?" She said my name like she had a turd in her
mouth.
Antagonizing Mulder was one thing, pissing Scully off was another. I turned
to her and said indifferently, "Same thing you do. To find the man who
tried to kill me." Then I turned my gaze back onto Mulder.
I effected as much vulnerability as I could and with pleading eyes, said
to him, "The same man that was responsible for your father's death." I
searched his eyes for a second then, easing the look up a bit, tried it on
Scully. "...Your sister's." I said to her.
My speech was met by icy stares from both agents, and it was Scully who
spoke first. "You want this man brought to justice?"
My patience was starting to wear out, and I really had to take a piss. So,
just wanting to get the hell out of the damp warehouse, I went with the
truth again. "You can't bring these men to justice."
I said, unbelieving that they were naive enough to think that the smoker
could actually be brought down through the law.
"The laws of this country protect them in the name of national security.
They know no law."
"Then why don't you put a bullet in his head like you did that man out
there?" Mulder asked me. I could see that he still wasn't buying my words.
"These men, they fear one thing; exposure." I tried. Then, "You expose
him, you expose his crimes, you destroy the destroyer's ability to
destroy." Hell it sounded good to me.
"The only thing that will destroy this man is the truth." There went
Mulder, on his truth crusade again. This conversation called for tough
love. So that's what I tried.
"The truth, the truth! There is no truth. These men, they make it up as
they go along. They're the engineers of the future. They're the real
revolutionaries. I can get them for you too."
I hoped that he would go for that last byte of information, because the way
things were going, it looked as if I had misjudged Mulder and he was going
to hand me over to the authorities.
And sure enough, not even that worked. "We can't help you Krycek." He said
indifferently, walking away. I still had one card up my sleeve; it was time
to play the ace.
"Mulder..." I said in a mock New York accent, I wanted to grab his
attention again, and now I had it. "This is just one bomb I'm sitting on
here. You didn't ask me how many more I know about." That got him. Now he
was interested in me again, that silly half grin he wore told me so.
Dulles international Airport
Herndon, Virginia.
After being handcuffed to Mulder's steering wheel for an hour and a half,
while the dynamic duo showered and changed, I was more than happy to get out
and stretch my legs. I led the agents to the airport, to where I knew for
certain that they would find the rock.
Now my instructions were to retrieve the rock by any means necessary.
However, those orders were given by a man who would be protected by the
colonists. I knew that was not on that protected list, therefore, I had
other, big ideas.
If I played things right, I would be able to expose to Mulder what was
really going with his aliens as well as complete my mission and get the rock
back. The general didn't say I had to put it in his hands, only that it was
not to fall into the American syndicate's hands. The general was greedy, he
wanted to control the monopoly on the vaccine. I had no wish for the human
race to be enslaved, more over, myself or Mulder. Though why I cared I
couldn't say, considering, Mulder was at a point in his life where he wanted
to make war and not love.
Strolling along through the airport terminal, we looked like old friends.
No one would have guessed that my wrists were safely encased in a pair of
steel bracelets, which I swear Mulder intentionally put on way too tight.
The prick.
At least he was nice enough to thread my sweat shirt over the cuffs while
Scully was parking the car. He made me smile, when the back of his hand
brush the bulge at the front of my jeans, and his cheeks reddened slightly
from the contact.
He tore his hand away and looked at me, like I was going to say something.
"What are you grinning at ?" He asked, obviously embarrassed.
"Nothing." I said innocently. By that time, Scully had returned from the
parking lot, and we entered the airport.
We stopped a large screen which showed all of the international flights and
looked up.
"What flight is he on?" Scully asked, clearly unimpressed with my
important information.
I told her what I knew. "It's an international charter that originated in
Russia. Turkish airlines."
"There it is,..." Mulder piped up, "...Air Lacayo, It got in at 6:45,
fifteen minutes ago."
I felt him put his left hand against the small of my back and urge me on, I
was surprised that he had touched me willingly and it wasn't even a slap,
punch or a shove.
"He still has to go through customs." Scully said practically.
I made a small frown at that, hadn't she listened to a word that I had said
to her, obviously not. "No. He'll be carrying a diplomatic pouch." I said
firmly, then started walking away from them.
Mulder did not let me get too far ahead of them. Scully walked the point
and he was behind me while I was sandwich between the two of them. I'm not
sure how far they thought a man in handcuffs would get in an airport full of
security, but I guess they weren't going to leave anything to chance;
considering they didn't trust me at all.
The courier was just coming through some doors when we arrived. "That's
him." I said, nodding my head in the man's direction.
Scully picked him out immediately. She pulled her badge as she started to
walk toward him and said, "Sir, federal agent. Don't be alarmed; I just
need to speak with you."
As soon as Scully identified herself, the courier, a mean looking son of a
bitch, turned on his heal and ran back through the doors that he had just
come through.
Scully immediately took flight after him shouting out, "Stop. Stop right
there sir."
Like he was going to freeze because a five foot nothing, one hundred pound
red head told him too. He kept running, and she was momentarily thwarted
when the doors closed in her face.
She looked back over her shoulder and called, "Mulder."
While Scully was busy with the courier, Mulder, recognizing that the man
would probably not want to be detained, immediately fished out his handcuff
key and undid my right wrist. Freedom however was fleeting because he
quickly snapped the cuff around a steel hand rail. With nothing more to do
than to wait, I draped my shirt to hide the fact that I was cuffed and
watched Mulder's retreating back as he and his partner gave chase. The
sliding glass doors closed, then I was alone, in an airport full of people.
Every time the doors slid open, I searched the faces passing through them.
And finally, about fifteen minutes later, Mulder and Scully walked through.
Scully was carrying the pouch, that was the good news. But the looks on
their faces were angry, something had not gone right. That was the bad
news.
Scully marched right up to me and said haughtily, "Is this some kind of
joke?"
"What?" I asked, tired of her bull shit.
"Show him." Mulder instructed.
"What is it?" I asked, knowing full frigging well what it was.
Scully unzipped the pouch and showed me the plainest looking rock I had ever
seen. "How can that bland thing save world?" I thought to myself.
Thankfully, my look of surprise at seeing the rock was genuine, and it
seemed Scully had bought it because when Mulder said sarcastically to me
"What did you get for Halloween, Charlie Brown?"
I looked up to her and she at I and Mulder stalked away, probably pissed
off because he thought that I was jobbing him again. Boy would he change
his mind soon enough.
Crystal City, Virginia.
11:02 PM.
Mulder pulled up in front of a posh high-rise apartment building and turned
off the ignition. My left wrist was once again, cuffed to his steering
wheel. I swear he got a rush out of controlling me in such a way. Scully
was long gone, and I was glad to be rid of her. Because cuffed or not, I
wanted Mulder all to myself. She had gone to NASA Goddard with the rock
to check it out as per my advice, backed up by Mulder who's word actually
meant something.
Mulder unlocked the cuff attached to the wheel and quickly snapped it to my
free wrist. "In bondage again." I thought along with , "Mulder is getting
way too attached to these cuffs."
I grinned at that and looked up, only to see him scowling at me. Oh, he
kept pretending to hate me, but I knew the real score. All his smacking me
around, was just to punish me for betraying him. It was okay, I was willing
put up with it, for a little while.
Once we got to where we were going, he banged on the apartment door and from
the other side we heard a muffled, "Who is it?"
Mulder had intentionally made me stand to one side. Then right after he
smacked me in the back of the head and told me to keep my mouth shut as I
tried to ask him who's place we were at. I thought at first, it might be
the three geeks apartment. Cool, that trio I could easily intimidate.
However, I recognized the voice from behind the door but before I could
really recall who it belonged to Mulder replied back, "I need to speak with
you sir." What a suck Mulder was, calling his boss 'Sir' off duty.
But now at least I knew where I was, and I suddenly thought that maybe I had
miscalculated in allowing myself to be captured. Shit, Mr clean's clone
might still be pissed off at me for bitch slapping him in the hall at the
hospital and stealing the dat tape from him.
The door opened and I heard Skinner ask, "What do you want, Agent Mulder?"
His tone cold and efficient.
"I need your authorization to provide a safe house." Mulder replied, not
looking at me.
"A safe house for whom?" The big man inquired sensibly.
At that, Mulder shot me a silly half grin then reached out and grabbed me by
the collar of my jacket. He pulled me right next to him so that his boss
could see exactly who it was he was talking about. I knew instantly, by
the look on Skinner's face, that he had not forgiven my trespasses against
his person in the stairwell. Shit. Oh well, there was nothing I could do
about that.
Mulder said to him while still clutching me, "This man has information about
extreme-right militia that could save the lives of innocent Americans."
I gave my former boss a small, nervous smile. He scowled at me then looked
at Mulder and said, "He'll be safe here."
Mulder pushed me into the dark apartment and I took a few steps into the
small kitchen. As I looked around, Skinner came up behind me and tried to
run his ham sized fist through my navel.
He hit me so hard that I fell to my knees, with not a drop of air left in
my diaphragm. As I grunted and groaned, the unforgiving man hauled me up
by my collar.
By that point I was getting pretty tired of being yanked around. Didn't
these dip shits know that I was here to help them? Well, of course not, but
really, if they didn't quit knocking me around soon, I would just say fuck
it and find a new way to expose the syndicates secrets. As it was, I could
even verbalize my objections to the treatment as I still was unable to draw
a decent breath let alone utter coherent words.
As he forced me up Skinner said, "Relatively safe. We're not even
yet...boy." boy? Who the fuck was mount baldy calling boy? Christ
I'm in my thirties.
"...That's a start." He threatened to me, then to Mulder he said, "Give me
the keys."
Who handed them over with out saying a word in my defense, the cruel
bastard. At least Scully would have protested my abuse, even if she
wouldn't do anything about it. Mulder, that fucking sadist was no doubt
getting a another hard-on watching me get tossed around.
Skinner dragged me across the apartment and tossed me out his balcony door
like a glad bag full of trash. I grunted some more and rolled around but
before I could gain my bearings, Skinner had me half-standing up with my
right hand cuffed to the cold steel railing of his balcony. Shit, now what
was I going to do?
"You can't leave me here! I'm going to freeze to death!" I had had enough
of their shit, and forcing me to stay outside in the cold was not my idea
of being kept in a safe house. Safe from what? The heat vents.
Skinner grabbed me again, I was beginning to think that he, like Mulder,
couldn't keep his hands off of me either. He shoved me down to the cold
cement and squatted down directly in front of me and grinning evilly he
said, "Just think warm thoughts."
And then, I swear to god, he ran his hand up my thigh and squeezed. Great,
more mind games. Then he stood up and left me there.
I was supremely pissed now. I jerked at the cuffs again, just to be sure
that they were locked.. they were. I stared, scowling after the A.D.
willing the cruel bastard to turn around and see how angry I was. He never
once looked back to me though.
Sitting there in the cold and the dark, I remembered that I never did get a
chance to piss. So, uncaring of the Director or his proper fucking
neighbors, I stood up and pissed over the railing. Not giving a shit where
my stream ended up. I smiled, the person below Skinner might have something
to complain about tomorrow.
Done, I zipped up and sat back down and tried to get a few hours of sleep.
Plotting my revenge as I drifted off into a fretful sleep.
It seemed that I had no sooner fallen asleep than Skinner was stalking out
onto the balcony, his angry breath coming out in thick puffs that were
visible on the cold air.
He unlocked the one cuff and hauled me inside, pulling me along with the
empty steel bracelet like I was a dog on a leash.
My first thought was that he was going to let me sleep inside for the rest
of the day. Evidently, that was not in his game plan.
Skinner took me to the bathroom and under his watchful gaze, I relieved myself, both ways. He had the nerve to make a face at me. Right. Like his
shit didn't stink or something? Then after I had washed up I managed to get
barely a mouthful of water down before he grabbed my jacket by the shoulder
and it was back to the balcony for me.
I tried asking him questions like, "Where the fuck is Mulder?" and "Does
he know you're pushing his personal punching bag around ?"
But the great bald eagle merely remained silent. I was only inside a
total sum of ten minutes. After re-shackling me, he started to walk away, I
called after his retreating back, "Aren't you at least going to feed me?"
He simply ignored me.
The bitch.
I'll get him back one day, someday. The minute he thinks that I was
absolutely out of the picture, that's when I'll strike back at him. I was
not going to let his behavior toward me in the last twelve hours to pass
with out me exacting some sort of revenge.
I didn't know what I would do, no I had years to figure it out anyways...
About an hour after Skinner had left for work, as I was dozing and trying to
shiver myself warm, I heard a noise. My eyes startled open, and who should
I see coming through Skinner's front door but the courier who had given
Mulder and Scully the slip the night before.
My view was slightly obscured by the filmy white sheers, but it was
obvious he had been instructed to come looking here for the rock.
Hopefully smokey had no idea that I was back in town.
If I didn't recognize the courier's name or face at the airport, hopefully
he hadn't recognized mine either. Jesus, his presence here worried me. He
could have orders to kill me first and then to find the rock. He pulled a
drawer and started to snoop through it's contents when I looked around
myself quickly. And then, realizing that there was no help for it, I went
up and over the railing.
I tried to be quiet about it, but when the balcony door opened, I knew that
he had heard me out here. I hung just there and waited. There would be
only one chance and I had no choice but to take it. I pushed aside the pain
in my wrist and shoulder and the second I saw him start to lean over the
rail, I struck. Grabbing his jacket, I used gravity to help me pull him
over the railing.
I was running on pure adrenaline, and I vaguely remember telling him to
"come here" through gritted molars. A few more strong tugs and the
courier was no more.
Unfortunately I had used up most of my energy, and I had no way of making
it back up to the balcony. I had no choice now but to hang around and wait
for Skinner to come and pull me up.
Suddenly, the pain I had easily pushed aside when I had to, came back, and
washed over me in wave after excruciating wave.
Not too much later heard soft swearing as the voice floated from inside the
apartment to the outside. I smiled despite myself, Mulder, my hero had
come to rescue me. He looked over the edge and frowned at me.
"All right Krycek." He said. "What kind of shit are you causing this
time?"
Then he reached down and pulled me back up. It felt good to have my feet
back on something solid again, however, I wasn't allowed to enjoy the
sensation as Mulder wrapped his fists into the leather at the scruff of my
neck and shoved me back though the doors. I guess he didn't want anyone to
notice that the dangling man, was no longer there.
Once inside, he grabbed my cuffed wrist and dug his fingers into the raw
spots. I was sure his dick took a bounce at the pain he was causing me.
"We're going to walk out of here like nothing happened. If anybody speaks
to us, you say nothing." Mulder instructed me as he was fighting the lock,
trying to get the handcuff off of my wrist.
I couldn't help it, while he jostled around my sore wrist I groaned in pain
but finally he succeeded.
"I got no problem. You put me up here man. I'm looking forward to seeing
how you get me down." I held up my wrist and massaged it, displaying the
rawness of the welts to Mulder, just to see if he cared that he had hurt me
while removing the cuff. He didn't look twice, the big shit head. He
couldn't have cared less that I was in agony.
Instead, he took the opportunity to hit me again. He slapped me across the
forehead and pushed my head back. "Stupid ass haircut." He said as he did
it.
I smiled inwardly, so he had noticed that I'd cut my hair. Mulder wasn't
fooling anyone but himself. He snatched up the folds of my jacket again and
I was beginning to think that he not only had a thing for me, but for my
leather coat too.
He made a motion like he was going to hit me again, and not wanting that I
spoke up. "I got news for you Mulder. When they find out who's dead on the
ground down there, there's going to be no question whose apartment he was
pulled out of."
Mulder thrust me away from himself but did not let go of my jacket. "Who is
he?" he asked forcefully.
"Same guy with the pouch." I said defiantly to him, take that I said to
myself.
"Let's go." Mulder said as he started to pull me toward the door.
I wrenched myself from his grip and said, "I say follow the pouch." I was
taking a big risk, not only for myself but for Mulder too. If we followed
the pouch, there was a chance that we could both be found out and killed. I
was playing both sides now, good and bad. I was cheering for the good to
win, even though I would always have to walk on the side of the bad.
I wanted Mulder to follow the pouch, and I wanted to see where it lead him
and me. If we ended up at Tunguska then I knew it was meant to be. Going
there would be dangerous, but in the end, what was happening at the gulag
would save his life.
Of course, there was no real point speculating about the pouch or Russia
when we were still in the friggin U.S.
Before Mulder could answer me his cell phone rang and I even though only
heard one side of the conversation, I assumed he was talking to Scully.
"Yeah?" He said blandly. What a way to answer your phone.
"What is it?" Mulder asked after a second.
He listened to what was being said again then replied cryptically, well
cryptic from my point of view, "I think you better find out. I want you to
get me an address in New York. You're going to have to go through the
bureau to get that."
Then he stated the address and I knew right then and there, that Mulder
was going to follow the pouch and take me along with him. I could have
kissed him then, but I thought better of it. The conversation done, he
tucked his phone away and went back to his old ways by grabbing me by my
bleeding wrist and hauling me out the front door of baldy's apartment.
Mulder stuffed me into the back seat of the cab first, then followed me in.
He sat so close to me, I could feel his warm breath exhaling into my air
space. His entire left side, rested against my right, we were sitting so
close together that a piece of paper wouldn't have fit between us.
Slowly I turned my head and looked directly into his wide set, light green
eyes. He searched mine back, and when I raised one eyebrow in question he
simply replied, "I want to keep you close, just in case..."
He left the sentence dangling, and I thought just in case of what?
I saw that the cabbie was frowning back at us from the rear view mirror, he
obviously was from a country where men sitting this close together should
be in a fox hole fighting a civil war.
I smiled at him and licked my lips. Then just to be a dickhead I kissed
Mulder on the cheek.
The driver quickly averted his eyes from us to straight ahead.
And Mulder, unfazed by the cabbie said to me blandly, "Behave or I put the
cuffs on again." Then he stared at me until I felt the need to pull my gaze
away. The rest of the trip back to his apartment passed in silence.
The driver didn't bother to hide his relief when we exited the back seat.
And I truly think if I had slammed the car door behind Mulder and instructed
the driver to 'step on it', he probably would have pulled out a revolver
and told me to get out.
Mulder tipped the driver and before the taxi had even pulled away he had a
vice like grip on my left biceps muscle and was pulling up the walk to his
building.
Once inside, Mulder commented on my particular "odiferous state" and
pushed me toward the bathroom and more importantly, the shower. He gave me
the privacy to use the facilities, but once I flushed the toilet, he was
back in the bathroom.
"Can I shower?" I asked him, a little unnerved, and somewhat unsteady under
his constant gaze.
"You'd better if you're driving all the way to New York city with me." He
smiled, and watched me expectantly.
Testing me I think, to see if I'd have the balls to strip down in front of
him. This was one test I would pass however. I had, after all, been
raised in military school. Nudity to me, male or female, was certainly no
big deal.
Shrugging my shoulders indifferently, I removed my jacket and tossed it out
the bathroom door, past Mulder's head. He moved his body, so as not to get
hit with the foul smelling leather.
As I casually removed my clothing, I became totally aware that Mulder eyes
were riveted to my body as I disrobed.
He was leaning casually against the door frame with his arms folded and
crossed in front of him. He had changed when I was using the bathroom
alone, from his suit into a very casual ensemble of a faded blue T-shirt and
a dark grey pair of sweats.
For the first time in ages, I suddenly became self conscious of myself,
something that rarely happened to me and I knew why. I wanted Mulder to
like my body, I wanted him to see it and want me. Judging by the fledgling
erection tenting out from his sweats, I had my wish.
Once fully naked, I stood still in front of him, and he brazenly swept his
gaze up and down me. His expression was so intent, that I wasn't sure what
was going through his brilliant but warped mind.
Finally, to cover my own stirrings, I turned and stuck my head and part of
my arm into the shower. The plastic curtain obscured my face from his view
and I was glad for it, because his scrutiny had brought a flush of red to my
cheeks.
I was experiencing the very distinct sensation of being watched, and I knew
at the very moment, he was examining, from a distance, the marks on my
back.
Suddenly I felt ashamed; for the marks gave away evidence of a harsh upbringing.
And I didn't want him to feel sorry for me, I only wanted him to
feel for me.
The cold water blasted out and sprayed out over my head, startling me. I
jumped at the coldness and heard Mulder give a chuckle. He had moved and
was now standing very close, beside me.
I adjusted the water taps and then parting the curtain wider, I gave Mulder
a quick look then stepped into the gloriously hot spray.
About thirty seconds after that, I felt a cool breeze against my back, and
Mulder was behind me. I hadn't invited him, or had I?
Nevertheless, he had joined me.
So, I assumed he was ready to acknowledge that there was something between
us. What, who the hell knew, but it was something that ran deep in us both.
Perverted? Absolutely. But Mulder didn't seem to care at the moment, so I
thought that I wouldn't either. I would simply take whatever he had to
offer me.
He poured some two in one shampoo into his hands and then ran his fingers
over my short, 'stupid ass' hair, working it in.
I closed my eyes and relaxed into Mulder's fingers, whispering a barely
audible "mmmmm".
For as much as I enjoyed the shampoo and scalp massage, Mulder seemed to
like giving it to me. He foamed my hair up and continued to gently rub my
head. "I liked your hair longer." He commented as he urged me under the
hot water for a rinse.
"It's easier to look after short." I replied, my eyes still closed; I let
him guide me.
"Well, it's still gets dirty, no matter how short it is. When was the last
time you bathed?" He pulled me back from the warmth of the water and began
to run a bar of Irish spring soap over my neck and shoulders.
I shuddered at his ability to be gentle, when just a few short hours ago,
hurting me gave him a hard-on.
Bi-polar.
He had to be, but who was I to argue though? He was in charge after all,
or thought he was at any rate. Mulder put the bar back in the dish and used
all ten of his long fingers to gently work the suds all over my warmed skin.
Switching to using only his thumbs, Mulder worked out the knots of having
had to sleep sitting up from the base of my neck. I could feel the unasked question on his fingertips as they skimmed over the
scars that were marking my back and shoulders. How could I tell him that
where I was raised, they thought that they were doing the right thing by
beating discipline into me.
Mulder's fingers inched lower, and his lips replaced where his fingerprints
had been. He darted out his tongue and traced a large knotty scar with it.
I jolted at the touch, surprised by his sensual licks. As Mulder continued
to lap at me, he slowly ran his hand between the cleft of my ass. If it was
unclear before, exactly what it was that he wanted from me, it wasn't
anymore.
The soap was long since abandoned but he kept running his hands over my skin
anyways. I spread my legs slightly when I felt his enquiring fingers
stroke my perineum. After a few more caresses, he reached fully between my
wide spread thighs and cupped my balls, engulfing them completely within his
fist. With the other hand he reached around my waist and grabbed my now
fully erect cock. He began to pump my dick, every once in a while fingering
the slit and gathering up the precum I was dripping.
He was seemed to be fascinated by the fact that I was un-circumcised.
Which should not have surprise him considering that in Europe they tend not
to cut bits of their sons away unless it is done for religious reasons.
Mind you, Mulder had no idea where I was from.
After only a few minutes of him jacking me off, my balls tightened up; from
lemons to walnuts. He roughly jerked me faster and with a grunt and a moan,
I shot a load of cum clear across the shower and hit the tiles underneath an
other soap dish.
I barely had time to enjoy the fact that Fox Mulder had just masturbated me
when he spun me around and holding my face tightly between his hands,
plundered my mouth with his tongue.
Now, I figured that eventually, Mulder and I would fuck, or have some form
of sexual contact. But kissing? Never in a million years would I had
figured that Mulder would kiss me, let alone give me his tongue to taste.
Happier than I had ever been, I quickly reciprocated the kiss. Eventually
our hot water ran out and Mulder pulled out of the kiss.
Holding me close, so that we were chest to chest, he reached behind and
shut the water off altogether.
Now, we had barely spoken three words the whole time we had been under the
spray of the water, so imaging my surprise when he said, "I want to fuck you
Krycek."
Okay, I thought. Why not? It had been years since I let a guy stick his
dick up my ass. Being on the receiving end isn't usually my thing, but
when handed an opportunity like this, well, I could hardly refuse.
Mulder pulled the shower curtain open and sat on the edge of the tub, his
legs facing the inside. Then he pulled me down so that I was straddling his
lap and face to face with him.
Okay, now I really was in a difficult position. Getting fucked while
laying down flat and you're comfortable is one thing, getting screwed while
sitting on the other person's lap was another. And I stated as much to my
partner.
"Uh... Mulder..." I said hesitantly. "Why don't we go in the bedroom?"
Mulder's cock was standing at attention, wedged between our stomachs. "No.
I want to do it, right here, right now, before I loose my nerve."
He was kissing me randomly all over my neck and chest as he was speaking.
Right after he said the word, 'nerve.' He sucked in my skin just above my
left nipple and bit me hard, hard enough to leave a bruise along with the
distinct pattern of his teeth.
I flinched at the initial pain and then moaned. I had always wondered if
Mulder was truly kinky or not, now I knew.
Mr. Straightlaced FBI was warped.
Amazingly, my cock began to grow hard again.
Mulder reached to the left and with out letting up with kissing and biting
at my neck, he pulled a small tube of lube from out of nowhere. He must of
had it sitting nearby, close to a conditioner bottle, I think. Why? Only
Mulder knew the answer to that, and I was in no position to ask him.
He unscrewed the lid and squirted out a healthy dollop onto two of his
fingers on his right hand. He passed the tube to me which I took from him
wordlessly. Judging by the size of Mulder's cock, I was going to need a lot
of help and considering that the door to the main entrance had been
closed for a long time I couldn't help but wonder if we would be able to
make love at all in this position. Now I know Mulder said fuck, but I
honestly, in my heart thought of it as making love.
I tried to relax my muscles as he slowly worked one slicked up finger then
another inside my ass. Once I felt like I was sufficiently loosened, I
squeezed some of the cool, clear jelly onto the palm of my hand and began to
work it all over Mulder's weeping dick.
He hung his head back and allowed himself to experience the pleasure of a
hand job done properly. His fingers, both of them were still nestled snugly
inside of me, but he was no longer pushing them in and out. After a few
seconds he whispered huskily, "That's enough or I'll cum."
I took my hand away as he pulled his fingers out of me. Mulder grabbed my
ass cheeks, one in each hand and squeezed, hard, digging his nails in. I
knew I would have his hand prints on my ass, along with the bite mark for
the next few days. He brought his head back up and opened his eyes and
without saying a word, positioned me over his cock. I reached back and
balanced myself with my left hand by resting in on his thigh, then wrapped
my other, shaky hand around the base of his erection; making sure I included
his balls in there too. He gasped, then slowly lowered me down while I
tried to guide him in.
He forced the head of his cock past my ungiving muscle and I couldn't
believe the intense burning of his initial entry. God, it had so been long
that I had actually forgotten what it felt like to get fucked. My muscles
were tense and didn't not want to give way the large, slicked up intruder.
"Just relax Krycek. Relax." Mulder coaxed.
And I tried too but the anticipation of knowing that the ripping, burning
pain would only get worse was working against me, making me even more
anxious. As a result, my muscles clenched up even tighter.
"No Mulder. Don't it hurts too much. I don't want to do this." I said
finally. Almost pleadingly. "Let's try something else. I'll give you a
blow job instead..."
Mulder would not be put off however and he bit my earlobe and said, "No.
I'm going to fuck you, now." And then he grasped my hips and forced me down
while he thrust his hips up.
Jesus, I had never felt anything like that before. Greased up or not,
Mulder had just bullied his way inside of me without warning, after I had
said no.
I bit my lip in pain and tried to squirm away, to get away from the burning
hot rod that I was forcibly being impaled on.
He groaned his pleasure out loudly and held me firm. My breath came in
ragged gasps as I tried to fight my way through the hurt. Mulder's eyes
were closed and all that was on his face was pure pleasure.
The bastard, I should have known that he'd get off on pain,... my pain.
Fighting him wasn't really working, so I stopped squirming and tried to
relax, tried going with it and not against it.
I could really comprehend that I was actually being raped by Mulder, before
it could truly sink in, his legs straightened and his knees locked. Then he
pulled me close and dug his hands into the bones at my hips holding me down
and keeping me still while he shot his load up my ass.
As soon as his satisfaction passed, he nudged me and I stood up. Scooping
up a wet face cloth from the bottom of the tub, Mulder wiped himself down.
Totally ignoring the fact that there was some blood on his cock. Done with
his cleaning, he stood up and got out of the tub.
"Don't take all day in here Krycek..." He said conversationally "I want to
leave for New York in fifteen minutes." Then without even thanking me for
the fuck, the arrogant bastard wrapped a towel around his waist and exited
the steamy bathroom.
Totally disbelieving of his behavior, I just stood there, with his ejaculate
running down the inside of my thighs watching him walk out on me like
nothing had happened. I had never felt so dirty in all of my life, then
or since. He was so Jekyll and Hyde that it even unnerved me. I slammed
the door behind him and locked it. Then I twisted the water back on in the
shower and quickly washed up again, ignoring the pink stain as it swirled
lazily down the drain. I told myself that Mulder having sex with me was
what I really wanted.
It was just so much easier to pretend that I hadn't said no at all.
I gingerly cleaned my ass, knowing that he had ripped some of the delicate
inner tissues. Mulder, that prick, couldn't have cared less about hurting
me, or forcing me for that matter, all he did care about was that he got his
rocks off.
I swallowed hard, maybe trying to help Mulder wasn't such a great idea
after all. I turned the water off just as the first cramp hit me. I
scrambled to the toilet just in time, as my bowels, complaining from the
forced invasion, expelled.
"Damn," I thought, "now I'm going to make him late."
Finally I was able to get up off the toilet, after washing my hands I opened
a drawer and looked for a toothbrush.
The trip to New York city passed in complete silence, with my left wrist
handcuffed to the steering wheel. Mulder, stony faced, stared straight
ahead as his fingers pounded out the beat of what ever eighties tune was
that happened to be coming out across the radio.
I was glad for the music at the start of our road trip as it cut the icy
silence between us; sparing me from conversation.
What could he say to me anyways?
What could Mulder possibly say to me after the events of a couple of hours
earlier.
I'm sorry for one. And It will never happen again, for another?
The likelihood of him apologizing to me was zero to nil.
I watched him for awhile as he stared out the windshield, as he thought
about god knows what, until I finally started to feel sleepy.
In my mind, as I dozed, I kept trying to tell myself that I hadn't said
no loud enough. He didn't hear me. Therefore it was my fault and not his.
The $64,000 question was why would I want to protect Mulder, especially in
this matter of... er... date rape. I could only guess that it was because
of some chivalrous notion on my part that I was somehow responsible for the
way he was now.
I had, after all betrayed his trust of me so many times. I told myself
that I deserved what ever Fox Mulder gave me.
It was my just penance for living such a goddamned unjust, fucked up life.
We finally arrived at our destination early in the evening with Mulder
feeding and watering me according to his schedule. Which meant that after
going over twenty four hours with out food, he finally gave me a small
container chow mein from a hole in the wall Chinese take-out joint just
around the corner of Marita Covarubius's Upper West side apartment.
The stuck up bitch.
I knew of her, but not her personally. She worked closely with the
consortium geezers, and now I knew who the leak was. That information would
come in handy some time. Covarubius had been out for dinner, and finally at
around eleven-thirty she had come home. Mulder gave her an extra hour to
answer any messages and to be done with her normal night time routine.
At around twelve thirty he left me alone in the car, still handcuffed to
the wheel... I hoped no one wanted to steal his car, other wise I was in
deep trouble. I watched his back as he easily picked the lock at the front
door of the building and went inside the building.
With nothing to do but think, I quickly fell back to sleep. I had woken up
once and crawling out the drivers side door I managed to sit on the seat
with my legs out and take a piss.
I crawled back in and wondered what time it was, I wasn't sure how long I
had slept, but it had to have been at the very least, an hour.
I was laying there, resting my eyes when I heard footsteps approaching.
Mulder I thought it was about fucking time he got back, the ass hole. I was
becoming very tired of Fox Mulder's bad manners.
The locked clicked open and Mulder was settling himself in the front
seat.
"Where have you been?" I asked him, tired, thirsty and exasperated.
"Making travel arrangements." Mulder said to me, his voice coldly quiet.
"To where?" I tried again, curious about where we were headed to.
"To follow the pouch." He said to me.
'But to where?' I thought to myself. Incredulous that he wasn't going to
tell what was going on, especially after everything I had done for him.
So I said to him, "Your going to keep me in the dark?"
His only response to me was to catch me off guard and punch me in the left
cheekbone. My head snapped right and I was momentarily stunned by the
painful blow.
I could feel a bruise already forming. As my head lolled around, I
distinctly heard Mulder say, "Yeah" And after that, I don't really
recollect very much at all.
Eventually, I managed to collect myself, I turned my face away and watched
the sparse traffic passing us by. In time, I realized that we were going to
the airport. JFK no doubt.
Mulder followed the signs to where the long term lots and pulled into a
stall that was empty and out of the way. Then the cold hearted bastard
hopped out of the car, and leaving me still cuffed to the wheel, slammed the
door. He had left the widow cracked, I said to him angrily, before he could
leave, "Mulder, you're not..."
That grinning bastard leaned down to talk into the window. The way he was
smiling at me made me want to wipe it right the fuck off of his face with my
fist. "I'm leaving the window rolled down. If I'm not back in a week, I'll
call Agent Scully to bring you a bowl of water.
Holy shit, didn't that bastard know that I had issues with being restrained
and locked indefinitely in a confined area? The ass hole.
Of course he knew.
Mulder started to walk away and I snapped, going totally ballistic.
"Mulder!" I hollered at the top of my lungs. Seeing as his sense of
humanity was no longer functioning, I gave up and yelled to him, "You're
not gonna leave me here! I got information, Mulder. About a second bomb!
Time, date and place!"
A few more strides and my Russian swearwords came out. I called him every
name in the Russian dictionary.
My heart leapt when I saw him pause and then turn around.
He came back to his window and grinning again he asked, "What did you say
to me?"
"What?" I shouted at him, too busy to listening to my own pissed off voice
to hear him speak.
"You called me a bad name." He said, amused.
Fed up with the fed, I strung together a few more adjectives for 'ass hole'
and spewed them forth.
Mulder was still smiling at me, even when I launched some saliva his way.
He simply moved his head aside and said, slightly surprised, "You speak
Russian, Krycek?"
At that point, I stopped blabbing, stared straight into his eyes and with
all of my heart lied, "My parents were cold War immigrants."
Then I added defiantly, "What's it to you?"
I'd like to think that if I had real parents, I would feel protective of
them, however, my immigrant story was total bull shit.
My real mother whom I never met, dumped me outside my father's army barracks
right after my birth. She left a note pinned to my sleeper telling him my
name and then that was it. She was gone. My father, a career officer in
the Soviet Military, promptly shipped me off to his sister, Elena. Then I
went straight to a military academy at the age of six...
Mulder nodded and smiled at me, and I knew that he had bought it. Despite
the incident in the shower and all of the smacking around, I did not want to
part Mulder's company. Now I was more curious than ever at where he would
lead me.
After two days of flying, we finally were able to start the last leg of
our journey. I talked a truck driver into dropping us off at the outskirts
of the Tunguska gulag. Which by now, I knew for certain was our
destination.
Well I talked him into it by giving him fifty American dollars, in small
bills.
After that, the driver was more than happy to oblige us. The drive from
where he was to the gulag would take about three hours. He didn't mind
driving us he had told me, but we were not allowed to ride up front with
him, it was the back of the utility truck or nothing. We took the back.
When Mulder didn't immediately understand why we couldn't sit up front in
the warmth I explained it to him.
I told him that the truck, should it for any reason be stopped, two
stowaways is easier to explain away than two 'American' passengers. Mulder
could now see the drivers wisdom in that reasoning so we climbed in. The
driver, I never did learn his name, pulled the large canvass flap down, and
Mulder and I were suddenly blanketed by bleak, damp darkness. The truck
ground to a start and jerked forward. From that point on, there would be no
turning back.
An hour into the trip, both Mulder and I were shivering continuously.
Finally, unable to take the cold, after all I had put up with enough of it,
I apprehensively, snuggled in a little bit closer to Mulder. I was actually
kind of pathetic, like a beaten dog trying to get close to its abusive
master.
When he didn't strike me immediately, I knew that cuddling up closer would
be okay. I shuffled so that I was right next to him, and with one arm he
pulled an old moth eaten blanket over the two of us and while the other he
wrapped it around me tightly, drawing me even close to him. Eventually the
rhythmic lull of the gravel roads soothed me enough to fall asleep.
When I woke a little while later it was to Mulder kissing me. I came
fully awake then, but did not open my eyes. I realized that I must have
fallen over into his arms face up, and slept like that.
I guess he was looking down at me or something and was unable to resist
kissing me. He knew that I had woken, but he kept on kissing me.
Mulder prodded my lips open and offered me his tongue, to which I accepted
readily, the slut for punishment that I am.
Using his right hand he expertly undid the button and fly on my jeans and
then drew out my already erect cock. I couldn't believe I was hard from just
kissing Mulder.
He very slowly, very gently began to masturbate me one handed. With every
other pull, he would smear the precum leaking from the head of my cock over
my shaft, slicking the palm of his hand so that it slid easily up and down.
It didn't take long, my respirations became heavier and my balls tightened.
Intuiting my impending orgasm Mulder pumped his hand up and down faster as
he fucked my mouth with his tongue at the same time. All to soon it was
over, and I spilled my seed over the back of his hand.
While I lay there basking in the after glow of a good hand job, the forceful
sex of two days previous suddenly seemed irrelevant. He stared down at me,
and I up at him, still in the same positions.
"Go back to sleep Krycek." He said gently, wiping his hand clean on the
dirty blanket, "We'll be there in an another hour or so." Then he did
something I never expected, he ran his finger tips through my short bangs,
playing with the hair and gently rubbed my forehead. I had enough energy to
zip my jeans back up, but that was it. I was still so exhausted.
I don't know how Mulder could get by with so little sleep, I myself, still
needed some more. Before long, I felt my eyes grow heavy and I gave in to
the call of slumber.
Mulder woke me up just before it was time to stop. We scooted to the edge
of the truck bed and waited for the vehicle to stop moving. Once out, I
went to the drivers side door and asked the driver in Russian how far to the
gulag. He replied to me and I turned around and said to Mulder, "He says
it's about five kilometers through those woods."
Mulder, anxious to be going, beckoned to me and said, "Come on, let's go"
I thanked the driver and gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder, hopefully
he would not mention to anyone at the camp about giving two strangers a
ride. Somehow I doubted it. He seemed like a stand up kind of guy. Plus,
the fifty bucks American would help buy his silence. The driver pulled
away, I hitched up my jeans and followed Mulder into the dense forest.
I trailed Mulder until we came to a razor wire fence. Immediately Mulder
sank to his knees and began to methodically dig away the rich soil from
underneath the dangerous razors. I joined him, no longer worried about
becoming wet, tired or dirty because I was all ready all three of those
things.
After working in complete silence for a few minutes, I stopped digging and
examined my dirty fingernails. Curious as to where he thought he was or why
he was at the gulag, I said to him, "You're really gonna keep me in the
dark, aren't you?" Then I dramatically punched the soft loam and asked,
"What are we doing here Mulder?"
Mulder turned his gaze on me and while he continued to dig, he said in an
analytical voice that only a twisted fuck like myself could find sexy,
"June 30th, 1908. Tungus tribesmen and Russian fur traders look up into the
southeastern Siberian sky and see a fireball streaking to Earth. When it
hit the atmosphere, it created a series of cataclysmic explosions that are
considered to be the largest single cosmic event in the history of
civilization. Two thousand times the force of the bomb that was dropped on
Hiroshima."
Amazed by his vast knowledge of everything, I asked him, "What was it?" And
I genuinely wanted to know.
"It's been speculated that it was a piece of a comet, an asteroid or even a
piece of anti-matter. The power of the blast leveled trees in a radial
pattern for 2000 kilometers. No real definitive evidence has ever been
found to provide a satisfying explanation of what it was."
Having said that, he crawled under the fencing and stood up. He turned
back to me and said, "I think somebody found that evidence. And the
explanation is something that nobody ever dreamed of." Then he turned away
and started up a small hill.
I knelt there for a split second thinking. I knew of course what was
supposed to be really going on at the gulag. Russia was desperately trying
to find a vaccine for the black oil. But could the gulag possibly have a
source to the oil itself, making finding a cure easier?
That's what it was starting to sound like. I had covertly led Mulder to
Russia because I wanted him to have the test, to be infected and cured. I
wanted him to be able to survive anything the aliens were to throw at us. I
myself was already immune, it happened after the whole silo incident. I was
glad that I had come.
Now for sure I would learn more about the tests, like I said before
knowledge is power and I was hungry for it. After a moments hesitation, I
looked around then crawled under the fence to follow Mulder to a destination
that may just end up getting us killed if I played the wrong card.
I scampered after Mulder and on a small bluff over-looking the gulag, we
both flopped down to the cold ground, close together. Mulder pulled out a
small set of opera binoculars and surveyed the area. I myself could see
movement on the rocky ground ahead of us, but what they were actually doing,
I couldn't be sure of.
"Looks like some sort of mining camp." Mulder said to me, not taking his
eyes away from the flurry of activity going on. "Oh." He exclaimed right
after.
"What." I whispered to him.
"I don't think they're miners." I wondered what he was seeing that I
could not.
Despite knowing about the gulag I had never actually been there before. I
was unsure of what was going on and now it was more crucial than ever that
my cover not be blown.
Some where in the distance I heard hoof beats, they were faint and far-off.
I looked at Mulder to see if he had heard them too.
Apparently he had because he yelled at me urgently to "RUN!"
Which I did. Shit, the worst possible thing that could happen just did. I
took off like jack rabbit bolting through a field. I tried going left then
right, but there were two horsemen right on my tail. I started running
headlong down a hill, but the soil was soft, and sodden with rain and I was
easily tripped up by my own speed and shaky footing. I remember rolling
over and over down the hill, and when I finally came to a stop, I sprang up
getting ready to keep on running.
However, the two horsemen that were chasing me had penned me in with their
beasts bodies. I was as scared for my life then as much I had ever been in
the past.
I don't know what happened to Mulder, during the time that I had left his
side, I only know that when we returned to the prison I was tied in front
with a leather rein and pulled along behind one of the horses while Mulder
was brought to camp via the back of a horse.
His limp body hung over the saddle of one of the camp horses as his rider
guided the stallion on foot. I was truly frightened for Mulder and not
quite sure they didn't just kill him, even by accident. Nevertheless, they
took him away in the direction of what looked to be the cells, while I was
dragged along in the opposite direction to an interrogation room.
Once in the room, my coat and sweat shirt were taken away from me and I
was rudely shoved down into a plain, wooden chair. My hands were pulled
back behind the chair roughly and cuffed together.
It was official, my well laid plan had just gone down he drain.
Despite the cold atmosphere of the room I was sweating, I only hoped that I
could keep up my American tourist who speaks a bit of Russian ruse up.
The guards spoke freely in front of me, and I didn't like what they were
saying. One guard was blond haired and baby faced, he seemed to be in
charge for the moment. The other guard was best described as ugly. Baby
face was busy telling ugly guard that the 'major' would be very pleased to
see me. Then both men turned to look at me with leers on their faces. It
was then that I figured out that I was between a bigger rock and a larger
hard place than I had originally thought.
I took deep breaths and tried to keep my cool. I would do what I had to do
to get both Mulder and myself out of this hell hole safely.
After about ten minutes of silently sitting still under the glare of the two
guards, I heard a key slam the ancient lock open, and then the metal door
creaked open slowly. In walked a man I presumed to be 'the major.' He
was tall, at least six foot four and he must have weighed at least 240lbs.
The door banged shut behind him, and I heard it lock again. So they were
taking no chances with me escaping.
The major undid his gun belt and handed it to ugly without looking at him
directly, while approaching me. The major reached out and grabbed my face,
he dug his fingers and thumb under my cheekbones, his hand cupped my chin
and he twisted me back and forth.
"Pretty." He said in Russian. "Very pretty." He licked his lips then
pushed my face away. The major stepped back a few paces, crossed his arms
across his chest, and asked me gruffly. "I am Major Petrov. Who are you?
And what were you doing in the woods with the other American?"
I had remained silent while he examined my features, and chose not to spit
out a retort, which would have been easy to come up with for the 'pretty'
comment. I was on already on shaky ground as it was and I had to play
things just right or I could end up getting both Mulder and myself killed.
I continued to go with my tourist story, since it was the closest to the
truth. "Please, " I started in the worst Russian accent I could affect.
"My name is Alex Arntzen and my friend is John Smith. We are Americans."
There was no way the Russian guards would know about the 'John Smith'
pseudonym, so I felt confident lying for Mulder. As for me, I thought I
would go with the Arntzen angle, just in case. "We were hiking and got
lost. We don't know where we are even."
"How come you and your friend dug under our wire instead of walking away?"
He asked me.
Clearly I wasn't making my features look innocent enough. So I opened my
eyes up wider and tried to affect what I thought was a even more helpless
look. Then I had to think up another lie, for the question. "We thought
that it was someone's private property, someone who could help us find our
way. We didn't know that we trespassing on a Russian jail's property."
"Jail?" He said that word in English like I had. "You are in a Russian
gulag!"
"I'm sorry!" I said, "I'm not that good with the Russian. I only learned
to speak it as a small child from my grandparents." I was still sweating
profusely, that I didn't have to fake. The major made me nervous, he seemed
far too calm. "Please, just let us go."
"Why did you run from the horsemen." He asked me, ignoring what I had said.
"Because, we were frightened, we didn't know what was happening." Every
time I uttered a word, I made sure to stutter and stammer, playing up the
not really knowing the Russian language act up even more.
The major smiled at me and it sent an invisible shiver up my spine. In
English he said, "Tell you what boy..." Why everyone insisted on referring
to me as a boy was beyond me. "You take my cock into your mouth suck it
really good, and I let you go." He grinned maliciously and both baby face
and ugly snickered.
I looked between the three of them, surely there had to be another way.
"What?" I tried, "Don't you have a woman to do that for you? Camp
whore's?" I asked, desperately wanting to avoid blowing the major if
possible. If my nose was any judge, the major hadn't seen a tub of water or
a bar of soap in days.
"This is a gulag stupid idiot!" The major railed, reverting back to
Russian. "There are no women here. And all of the prisoners are half dead.
You and your friend are the prettiest things to come this way in a very long
time." He adjusted the bulge at his crotch while he spoked to me. "I hear
your friend is laying unconscious in your cell, so that leaves you to find a
way out for him and you."
"But..." I started.
The major cut me off with a sneer and said, "No? You don't want to taste my
big cock."
I shook my head no.
"Fine. We do things the hard way then." He said, then turning to baby
face he ordered, "Take him back to the cell. They can start work in
morning. I'll call Moscow, we'll find out who you two really are."
He turned back to me and said, "The price just went up, if you want out, you
have to let me fuck your tight 'American', ...ass." He said the word
ass in English. The major snatched his belt out of ugly's hands and
started to re-fasten it while he made for the door.
Apparently he wasn't buying the lost hiker bit. "Hey I called to
him... We're just lost tourists, nothing more. Call the American embassy,
you'll see!" The major did not turn around nor did he acknowledge that I
had even spoken. The heavy door opened, and he passed through it.
"Come on pretty boy." Baby face said to me as he undid the cuffs and
pocketed them. "You can go check on your roommate." He grasped my right
wrist tightly and twisted my arm up the middle of my back. I thought for
sure the little bastard was trying to break it.
Baby face shoved his baton under my throat and it was in that position that
I was marched across the compound to the cell.
The guards still hadn't returned my clothes, hell, ugly was probably wearing
my sweatshirt by now. The whole way to the cell, Baby face held me tightly
to his body, and whispered some very nasty things that he wanted to do to me
in my ear.
I couldn't believe it, the kid looked so goddamned innocent. I could
clearly feel the bulge in his uniform pants bumping against the back of my
ass. I tried not to think too much about what he was saying, after all, I
knew that there was no way would Baby face and ugly would be able to have me
before the major did. I was comforted somewhat by that thought.
I tried to concentrate instead on convincing the horny guard that he should
just let us go, but it was to no avail.
Once at the cell block, another guard opened up the door to my
accommodations and baby face thrust me through the opening. I hit the
floor, but I jumped up quickly, wanting to catch him before he could closed
the door. I tried one more time, "You must believe me." I pleaded with
him.
The guard replied with, "We'll find out who you really are." The little
prick spun his keys around and then my cage door slammed home.
I clawed at the metal plate covering up the observation widow but it was
sealed shut. Starting to feel panicky, I turned and said melodramatically
to the dumbstruck Mulder, "We gotta get out of here." Our eyes locked
together for a few seconds, "They're going to torture us." Then I tore my
gaze away and crossing to the other side of the cell, I tried the bars at
the window.
"How do you know?" Mulder asked calmly.
I on the other had was not as calm. "They were questioning me." I tossed
over my shoulder. Realizing that the bars were not going to give way I gave
up on them as an avenue of escape and walked over to where Mulder stood.
Standing there, almost chest to chest I said, "They were questioning me.
Trying to get me to confess."
"To what?" Mulder said in that monotone of his.
His calm demeanor was really starting to grate on my nerves. My
claustrophobia was worsening by the second, and he just stood there so
fucking unflappable. The cold walls were closing in on me, trying to
suffocate us. Didn't he see that? I guess he wasn't that unflappable
because he jammed his forearm up under my throat and slammed me against the
wall.
"What did you tell them?" He hissed at me.
"That we were stupid Americans lost in the woods." Which was the truth, but
I don't' know if Mulder was buying it or not. He and I stared into each
others eyes for a second. Then it hit me. Mulder wasn't in control any
more, and he wasn't liking it one bit.
Now it was his turn to rely on me to help him out, not the other way
around. Suddenly I was very weary of his bullshit.
"Mulder,..." I said, my voice changed because of his arm on my throat,
"...you're going to need me in here." I shoved his arm away and said,
"Don't touch me again."
And I meant it. I was tired of getting pushed around by everybody and I
wasn't going to take it anymore. Especially since it looked like I was
going to have to let the major stick his dick up my ass before I would even
be allowed to make a phone call.
We stared at each other a little more, like two roosters trapped in the same
hen house. Mulder yanked his gaze away from mine and turned away from me.
I guess I won that round.
I stared after him for a few seconds, then for some neurotic reason, went
back to the window bars. I could have sworn that one of them felt loose.
A few hours later, I had finally managed to calm down, though Mulder and I
really hadn't said more than a couple of words to each other in all of that
time. My stomach grumbled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten in over twenty
hours, as if in response, Mulder's stomach answered back with a noisy
complaint.
A voice down the hall yelled "Dinner."
Squatting by the small flap in the bottom of the cell door, I waited
patiently for our turn to eat, I felt like a pig waiting at the trough to be
fed.
The flap flipped up and the first small tin bowl came through, I
selfishly snatched up the bowl and took a greedy sip right away. The soup
was thin, and luke warm, but to me it tasted wonderful. I was that hungry.
Another bowl came through and I grabbed it and passed it immediately over to
Mulder. He sipped from his bowl, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him
reach into the depths of the broth and pull something out of it. I looked
up now, curios and watched him.
He was holding a live cockroach between his thumb and forefinger. Mulder
spit his soup out and I followed suit by shoving my bowl back through the
opening in the bottom of the door.
The guards didn't take kindly to the rejection of the food, because the
instant I had done that, the cell door was unlocked and in walked baby face.
I don't think he was as pissed off that I had tossed back their shitty soup
as much he was with the fact that the soup now covering his boots. I had
insulted him, and I think he wanted to make me pay for the transgression.
"Get up! Get up!" Baby face yelled as he hauled me up to my feet. He
shoved me back against the wall and pressed his baton tightly against my
throat.
I put my hands up in a defensive/passive manner; adding sick of people
cutting off my air to my mental lists of pet peeves.
"I want to see your supervisor." I said quickly. It looked like baby face
wanted to knock me around some, so used my wits and the best authoritative
voice I could muster and began to attempt to talk my way out of a beating,
and out of the cell.
I thought that if I could get past baby face to the major, and if I talked
nice enough to him; in other words let him fuck me. I could also gain
Mulder's freedom along with a free inoculation. Which was why I had let him
lead me to the gulag in the first place. He needed the test in order to
survive what was to come.
The over zealous guard grabbed the front of my T-shirt and said with scorn,
"Why would my 'supervisor' want to see you?" He knew bloody well why, he was
there when the major gave me his price for freedom, but I suppose he had to
make it look good for the other guard. Perhaps the other guard didn't
approve of forcing the prisoners to give up sex. Whatever the reasoning
was, my confidence swelled slightly.
"He'll want to see me." I replied back.
He let me go and backed away, saying as he did, "I don't know... I don't
know..." Really laying it on thick.
I suppose he had visions of watching me take it up the ass or something. I
preferred not to work with an audience, but I would if I had to.
"What are you saying?" Mulder asked interrupting the flow of the
conversation.
I turned to the agent, suddenly pissed off that I had to sacrifice my virtue
for him, though I knew it wasn't his fault that we ended up here, and in a
cell. "That I want to see his supervisor." I said coldly to Mulder.
"Okay, but if he doesn't want to see you, you'll be accountable." Baby face
said. Right, like he wouldn't want to see me.
"I'll be accountable, I'll be accountable." I agreed.
The guards stepped back out of the cell and I followed them, just before
leaving I turned to Mulder and said, "Das Vidanya"
Or in English, "Good bye."
Then the door slammed shut, the one guard locked it and went on with handing
out the soup, and baby face who was leering at me like a pervert in an all
girl peep show, led me to his supervisor, Major Petrov.
Life, limb and eight days of living dangerously II
Fifteen minutes after leaving Mulder alone in our tiny cell, I was placed
back into the same cold, holding room that I had been in originally;
awaiting for the major's arrival. Baby face, the sadistic bastard, used
leather cuffs with a strong piece of thong linking the two and bound not my
wrists, but my elbows together.
Of course my elbows couldn't actually touch each other, but Baby face
pulled on the leather as hard as he could trying to make them.
I thought that my shoulders would dislocate he had my arms pulled so far
back. Then he shoved me, shirtless, back down into the same plain chair
that I had sat in before and all of us waited.
Finally Major Petrov deigned to make his appearance, he instructed the
guard on the outside of the solid steel cell door not to let anyone in under
any circumstances. The door slammed shut and I was alone with three men,
bound and helpless. Fuck, why on earth I got myself into this kind of shit
was beyond me. But here I was, in trouble and at an others mercy again.
"You wanted to see me comrade Arntzen?" The major said as he removed his
gun belt and approached me.
"I'll do as you asked. I only want to get me and my friend out of here.
This has all been one big mistake." I looked up at him, and noticed that he
was holding a riding crop loosely in his left hand.
"What is it that you think I want you to do?" He asked, smiling. Bastard,
he was going to make me say it.
I gritted my teeth and spit out, "I'll let you fuck me if you release us."
"Ohhh. That. Yes, that I can do. I am not a rapist you know." Petrov
cooed. "It must be mutual." As if I was the one offering the sex freely,
not having it extorted from my person. The major slapped the crop into the
palm of his other hand. His hunger for my body was obvious in his face.
"I have one more favor to ask of you major." I said boldly while the major
ran the tip of his crop up my chest.
"What is that pretty one?" I could see the bulge in the major's pants, it
was huge. What had I gotten myself into?
"I need to make a phone call before we leave here." I had temporarily
forgotten about the rock and the mess that I had left behind in the states.
My superiors would not be happy to know that I didn't do my job properly
and let an agent in the FBI come to Tunguska. My name was mud, but
perhaps I could salvage some of the original mission.
"You may make a phone call my pet." The tab of leather at the end of the
crop brushed over my nipples, the major was looking at me almost dreamlike,
fantasizing about what he was going to do to me. I just hoped I could
endure whatever it was that he had in mind.
While he was busy imagining what our tryst would be like, I tried one more
request on the major. I was pushing my luck I knew, but I had to try.
"One more thing. My friend, I want him to be inoculated, but I don't want
him hurt in the process."
"Don't worry for your friend Arntzen." The general grabbed me around my
right biceps and the muscle screamed from the pressure. "He's being
prepared as we speak!"
Before I could even puzzle that one out, Petrov dragged me the four short
steps to a metal topped table. He shoved me over, so that I was face down
and bent over at the waist. My feet were on the ground and my naked torso
was spread out over the cold table top.
Ugly stepped back a pace, but Baby face did his part by holding me down at
the back of my neck. My arm and shoulder muscl es ached and throbbed and I
gave an involuntary grunt in pain when the much larger major tugged on the
leather strap between the restraints.
I managed to maneuver my face to the side and unfortunately ended up
looking right at Ugly, across the far end of the table. Baby face's grip
grew tighter, and it was obvious that he was going to hold me down the whole
time for the major.
He had done this before then, probably many times.
The button and fly to my jeans came undone and then my ass was laid bare;
my underwear and pants were pooled around my ankles.
"You be a good boy and don't scream... If you can help it." Then the major
brought down the riding crop across the cheeks of my ass.
I let out a one hell of a holler and Baby face's grip became more vice like
as the crop hit me again. Every time Major Petrov hit me, I screamed, as
much as I didn't want too, I couldn't help it. I tried to valiantly fight
off the major and his spanking but it was to no avail.
When Ugly pulled his cock out and started to masturbate himself, that was
when I shut my eyes to everything. Eventually, panting from exhaustion and
sweating profusely I became completely too tired to scream or fight at all.
My fatigue was all Petrov was waiting for because out of nowhere a tube of
lube appeared and he squeezed some of the icy gel directly onto my hole.
I felt him fumble around and then I could feel the head of his cock at my
asshole. The sadistic bastard wasn't even going to prepare me first. I
knew that this was going to be worse then Mulder and his fucking; I just
knew it.
To add insult to injury, I had willingly agreed to this treatment. Well
not to the 'Kentucky Derby' imitation, but to the screwing at any rate.
Petrov grabbed my hips and slowly, but continuously, worked his fat dick up
my tight ass. My whole back side was hot and burning from the beating and
now my hole was too. I screamed at his initial entry, which only encouraged
him more. When he held onto me, I yelped again for he must have left some
pretty big welts and his thumbs were pushing into two of them, one on either
side of my hips.
"Ohhh, you are so tight pretty boy." Again with the boy shit. "What will
your friend say to you when he see's what I've done."
As the major spoke, he punctuated every other word with a hard thrust. I
wanted to fight him, but I had nothing left in me which to fight him with.
So I simply lay there, limp like a raggedy Ann doll.
My whole body ached and I could not feel my shoulders anymore. I knew by
the stinging burn deep inside of me that Petrov had reopened the partially
healed tissues that Mulder had torn open when he had fucked me with out
permission four days ago.
Baby face let go of my neck, but I was barely aware of hit. I heard a
zipper undo, and again, I knew it, but it didn't really register. I opened
my eyes again and blearily saw that Ugly was stand right next to the table
jacking himself off while with the other hand he explored the small patch of
flesh and muscle between my shoulder blades.
I felt another hand rub over my scalp, and somewhere in the back of my
brain, I comprehended that the two guards were jerking off over my still
form.
With no adrenaline left to protest the freebie, I had no choice but to
be the focus of the guards circle jerk. Petrov mumbled and moaned in
Russian how pretty I was, how tight my ass was. Then his thrusts became
more animalistic, more pointed and to my relief, he finished.
Just as the major was about to cum, he pulled his cock out of me and brought
himself off over the small of my back. I felt his hot jism land on top of
my equally flaming buttocks and then, in two more, separate places, I felt
more cum hit the back of my neck and just to completely humiliate me, the
side of my face that was up.
Those two pricks had cum all over me too.
This sex session was supposed to have been consensual and I felt more
fucked over from it then from Mulder who raped me.
Hopefully, with my phone call, I would not only clear up the missing rock
mess but take care of the two guards too. I lay there spent, trying to
recover when Petrov said to me, "My dink is stained pink handsome. You're
the best I've had in months." He had ripped the me open again, I thought as
much.
The major slapped my ass hard and instructed to one of the guards, "Let him
clean up and make his phone call. Then they're free to go if the colonel
says so."
"The colonel?" I thought, "Who the hell is that?" As ugly undid my
restraints I silently hoped that I didn't have to let him fuck me too. I
had had it with being used .
A few hours after the three-way sex, I was showered, dressed in an
unfamiliar military jacket and had made my phone call.
Before I left for my mission, I had written a letter to an old friend whom
I had met while I was still quite fresh in the military. He used to be with
the KGB and was one of the very best agents of his time. I phoned a contact
that I had left the letter with, he would deliver it to Peskow.
The major had convinced the colonel, only after the call came back from
Moscow that the man named 'Arntzen' was clean, that myself and Mulder were
no threat to the gulag.
All I had to do was wait for Mulder to walk out of the cell's with the
other prisoners and we could be on our way.
I wasn't happy about the way he had been given the test, that bald little
colonel had told me what he had done to Mulder. In fact the little
'Frankenstein' clone seemed to take great pleasure in trapping the men
forcibly underneath chicken wire. This place was too fucked up.
I had really just wanted Mulder to be inoculated but there was no help for
the circumstances surrounding his vaccination now.
At least he was immune now.
With Mulder looked after and with Peskow taking care of the rock, It seemed
that I would come out of things still looking like the obedient agent to my
superiors.
The rough sex notwithstanding.
I was beginning to think that this mission did turned out okay in the end.
I still wasn't happy about what I had to do with the major to gain Mulder's
and mine freedom, nor did I appreciate a face full of cum. The way Mulder's
test ordeal turned out, that couldn't be helped either. But now it seemed
that the two of us would be walking out of here alive. Ant that's what was
most import.
The men had started to file out into the mucky yard, and as they did, the
colonel called me over and invited me to light his cigarette. He made a
dirty comment about the size of the major's dick compared to his brain, and
laughed. Though the joke was not funny, I laughed anyways as I certainly
didn't want to piss the colonel off especially with the small of my back and
my ass still burning with the memory of the major's sex games.
I put the lighter away and when I looked up, all I had time to see was
Mulder rushing at me. Before I could even say a thing to him, the silly
fool pushed me into the same truck bed we had arrived in and cracked me
across the jaw a few good times. From there on, I remember nothing as I
was knocked out cold.
When I came to, I discovered that I was still laying in the back of the
truck. Sitting up, I peered through the window and saw that Mulder had
decided to break us out of the gulag instead of trusting me. Well, in his
distrust, he was consistent anyway.
However, his rash decision really fucked things up good because by now the
major and the colonel would have realized that weren't tourists or why else
run for it. Shit, I knew the guards from the camp would be searching for
us. And if they caught up to us, we would wish ourselves dead long before
they were done extracting information from us. I of all people was well
aware of what damage a pissed of commandant could do to a body.
I slammed the window, letting Mulder know that I was awake and not happy.
He looked back at me blandly, then went back to trying to control the truck
as it hurtled down the mountain road.
I watched him drive for a few seconds before I realized that the brakes on
the truck seemed to be gone. Mulder, unused to such vehicles, seemed to
forget that he should try to shift the gears down but it was all the FBI
agent could do to control the four ton beast.
A rat always knows when to abandon the ship, and now was the time. I
didn't want Mulder to be hurt or worse, killed, but there was no way to
help him now; he was on his own.
All I could do was to try and save myself. I had aided him as much as I
could, taken him farther within the conspiracy than ever before, and now was
time for me to bail.
Scooting to the edge of the back of the truck, I mentally counted off the
seconds, then rolled off. I landed hard on my right arm, and at first I had
thought that I had broken it. But as I lay there, trying suck some fresh
air into my lungs, I was relieved to discover that it was merely strained
from taking the brunt of my fall.
Slowly I climbed to me knees, just in time to see the truck careen around a
curve in the road and disappear.
"Until next time Mulder" I said aloud then looking around, I picked a
direction I hoped was west and ran through the bush that way.
Some time and many kilometer's later, my legs finally gave out and I fell to
the ground exhausted. My arm ached in time to the welts across the cheeks
of my ass, and I panted heavily, trying to pull myself together so I could
keep going.
I needed to be sure that I was well away from the gulag, or risked capture,
this time I knew the guards would not buy any story I had to tell, sexual
favors offered or not.
This whole mess could be cleared up, if I could find my way to Moscow. I
was already formulating the lie I would tell my superiors about being there
with Mulder. Well a lie peppered with enough half truths to make it
believable to them.
As I tried to work out my tale, I heard a noise in the bushes that
surrounded me. "Shit!" I thought, "Guards, already!" I jumped up, no
longer tired, and started to run.
But my adrenaline rush was not to last however and only a kilometer away
from where I had collapsed the first time, I ran out of fuel.
I saw a face emerge from the scrub and grabbing a tree trunk with my right
arm, heedless of the pain now, I stopped running. Looking all round, I
quickly realized that I was surrounded as many more men came out of the
forest toward me.
Strangely enough, they were all one armed; every man in the large group's
left arm was missing. Feeling slightly more confident by the sight of them,
especially since their leader looked to be no more than 19 or 20.
I clutched at the throat of my jacket and using my broken Russian accent,
again, and affecting a well practiced vulnerable look, it was with total
confidence that I asked them, "What do you want from me?"
The young leader looked me up and down then asked me, "Why do you run?"
"I have escaped from the prison camp." I said in bad Russian.
The leader examined me closer still, then said, "You are a liar."
"No." I said in English, trying to convince them otherwise. "I'm
sorry..." this again in English, then I reverted back to the Russian
language. "...Nyet. I am American... and I've been falsely accused of
spying." I figured that my little performance should convince them.
"Then your enemy is mine." Bingo. I had them eating out of the palm of my
hand. "We can protect you."
The leader introduced himself as Ivan, and then rattled off a litany of
names while pointing to each one of the other, broken men. While Ivan led
the way to their camp, he explained why all of them had their arms missing.
They had done it willingly to escape the tests.
Though they had spared their own lives by doing so, as a result, all of
the men were now wanted; considered outlaws by the powers at the gulag.
All of the men had been living rough for over two years, some even longer
than that. They were of the opinion of that if being alive meant not being
with their wives and children, then it was still better than the
alternative, death, slowly administered courtesy of the gulag.
I could understand their reasoning, and sympathized with them, secretly
thanking the powers that be that I was born in Moscow and not in Siberia
like these men had unfortunately been.
Once at the camp, Ivan offered me food and water, both of with I accepted
readily. The soup was a thick, hearty broth made up of wild vegetables
found in the country side and meat that tasted like rabbit. The soup was a
hundred times better than the offered fare at the gulag, and
un-apologetically I went back for another two bowls full. As I sat eating,
it dawned on me, that for the last six days, I had only averaged eating
about once a day. No frigging wonder I was half starved.
At dusk, the men built up the fire, and a bottle of cheap vodka was passed
around. That was one thing about the Russian's, no matter where you lived,
or what walk of life you came from, there was always a bottle of vodka
around to warm the cold pit in your belly.
Which was what the vodka had done for me two seconds after swallowing a
large mouth full. The bottle came around a few more times and I drank from
it every time. It was cold in the forest, and I, having been kept in cold
storage for the last week, was grateful for all the warmth the booze would
give me.
After the events of the last days, I yawned, tired after all of the shit I
had been through over the last six days. From sleeping on a balcony, to
being handcuffed most of the time, to Mulder's perverse version of making
love. I had experienced it all.
Days of traveling and being held captive in a gulag to Petrov's perverse
version of making love, every energy store that I had, had been used up and
I was plumb tuckered out.
So I grabbed a small pillow, a rough woolen blanket and facing the fire,
with it's comforting heat upon my face, I fell asleep. Which turned out to
be one of the biggest mistakes I would ever make in my life.
I remember that at the time, I was dreaming about Mulder and a hot tub and
there was some coconut scented oil involved.
My pleasant dream was interrupted by a twig snapping. Instantly I came
awake, but it was too late. I rolled over to get up and was immediately
swarmed by five or six of the men. I still can't be sure of the exact
number. But I know that I was surprised by the strength in their
remaining arm, there was no way I could get up.
Struggling against them did nothing except tire me out more. At first I
thought that a little gang rape was on the menu for the evenings
entertainment because there were some men who were busily divesting me of my
coat and shirts. Actually, at that point, I was preparing myself mentally
for the inevitable invasion when the young leader straddled my hips, and
with a flaming hot knife, made the first cut for an amputation that I had
not agreed upon.
The knife touch my skin, and I screamed like I had never screamed before.
The pain was so searing, so excruciating that those minutes are forever
seared, no pun intended, into my brain.
The knife as it flayed through my soft flesh cauterized the wound in its
wake. Obviously this was not the first time these men had performed this
type of procedure.
I lay there screaming, wishing that I would pass out, but the body has a
strange way of protecting itself. This time, due to my racing heart and all
the screaming, my brain sent a rush of adrenaline through me instead of a
'pass out' message.
Consequently, I was wide awake for almost the whole ordeal.
The stink of my own flesh burning made me sick to my stomach and I began to
retch. The leader tossed the knife aside as soon as it started to cool down
and another, bright orange with heat was passed to him. Ivan continued with
the operation with out missing a stroke. Ivan had to push extra hard when
he reached the bone in order to get the knife through it. And it was at
that point, that I was finally allowed to leaving the plane of
consciousness.
Thankfully I remember nothing else except waking up later with the stump of
what used to be my left arm, heavily bandaged. One of the men was pressing
the bottle of vodka to my lips and drank from in greedily.
I was looking at my stump and I swear that I could still feel my fingers.
Dawn was fast approaching and there was no way that I was going to fall
asleep in front of these men again, lest I wake up without my right arm too.
The wind shifted and a nauseating smell assaulted my nose. I was reminded
of the stink the knife had made while cutting my flesh. Looking into the
fire, I realized that the godawful smell was my missing arm being cremated
in the coals of the fire.
Well, so much for saving the limb for reattachment in Moscow.
Most of the men had gone to sleep, leaving only two sentries to guard the
men. Had I a knife I would have stabbed them all in their peaceful
slumbers. Rationally I knew they only thought that they were helping me,
but goddam it, a piece of my body was just sliced away with out my knowledge
nor my permission. That was not something anyone could easily forgive.
Daylight came, and after some I instructions from the men, I parted company
with them. Who would have thought that I would survive the gulag, come out
of it relatively unscathed only to be permanently disfigured by a bunch of
country bumpkins.
It took me a full week to make my way back to Moscow. Once there I
immediately went to the infirmary at the Russian intelligence equivalent of
'Quantico' and had the doctor's look at it.
There was nothing to be done.
They tried to clean up the wound, and fed me IV antibiotics for the
infection that had started in the stump and that was about it.
I told my lies to my superior, said to him that the rock was taken care of,
and then told him that Mulder had taken me hostage and forced me to the
gulag.
I bravely told my boss that I knew what was going on at the gulag and that
I wanted in. Leaving out that I wanted in so that I could make Petrov,
Baby face and Ugly pay for their trespasses against my person.
Then I explained further how I had lost my arm for greater good of the
cause. And to my amazement, my drunken superior agreed that due to my
sacrifice, to up my rank and let me in on all the details pertaining to the
tests and the vaccine.
A few days after that, I waited at Peskow's small apartment. He came home
and I congratulated him for a job well done. Solemnly promising the old
geezer over tea that I would not call on his services again, that I would
allow him to enjoy his retirement.
After that, he brought out the good vodka and I told him the story of my
missing limb while getting piss drunk.
And now, here I sit, some three months later, still trying to convince my
brain that I no longer have a left thumb and writing my memoirs. I am
merely whiling away the hours until I am called into action again. My
superiors are giving me some time to recuperate before my services are once
again needed. I can not remain inactive for too long however, as time is
of the essence. With every day that passes, the aliens get that much closer
to colonization. Russia has a vaccine, all they need to do is find a buyer.
I am determined to become a bigger player in the arena of the aliens.
So while I plot the ways to do just that, I write my story's, and count off
the days until I can once again return to the US and Fox Mulder; he and I
have some unfinished business to discuss.
That day is coming soon, I can feel it in my blackened soul.
Life, limb and eight days of living dangerously
by Demi-X
I suppose the best place to start this particular story is at the beginning.
So here goes. 
