Interrogation II:
The Deal
Orithain and Nicole S.
Fall 1998
Disclaimer: They don't belong to us, they belong to Chris
Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox. Please don't sue us.
Fox Mulder was still scared. Not to mention tired, cold, and his ass was
incredibly sore. He tried to curl up into a ball in his cell, but the chains
prevented him from doing so. He groaned in pain as they cut deeper into his
wrists and ankles. They moved him to another cell this morning; it was
quieter here at the end of the hallway. He could sleep a little. But it was
so cold, and they hadn't given him a blanket. He shivered constantly, trying
to generate some warmth by moving as much as possible in the chains they had
put back on him after Krycek left him the day before.
He sniffed a tear away as he thought about what happened yesterday. How
the hell could he have had an orgasm with that Nazi pig? How could he find
pleasure in such a despicable act? He tried to throw up afterward, but he
had not eaten in four days. This happened every time he thought about what
he had done with the Nazi. He didn't know if the memories or the dry heaves
hurt more.
He started to convulse again, the chains pulling tight as he choked and
fought back the bile that wouldn't come. He had to calm down, had to remain
in control, had to keep the faith. Someone would come and rescue him; he was
an American, dammit! They couldn't treat him this way. "They can't
treat me this way," he whispered as another tear slid down his cheek.
Oberst Krycek looked in the mirror and straightened his uniform. He loved
how the starchy, black material complimented his skin tone. Black was his
color. He fiddled with his Knights Cross of Iron around his neck. It was
hard to keep straight as it was so heavy. It took patience and time to get
it right. He had little of either.
He did not receive the highest honor in the Third Reich by being patient.
Three years on the Eastern Front, being a good soldier is what got you
medals here, not ass kissing and politics. Krycek smiled to himself as he
thought of his proudest moment. He led the advance on Kharkov, killing
hundreds in various painful ways. He had been decorated three times before
that for other battles along the Front. One time he and a Panzer Division
wiped out a whole village. They killed everyone, save for the young men whom
they tortured for five days then killed anyway. The Eastern Front was no
picnic. The fourth time he was decorated, it was here in Berlin by the
Fuehrer himself. That's when the SS took note of his interrogation
techniques and made him the offer. His Befehlshaber at that time was quite
proud of young Krycek. He would sit back and smoke cigarette after cigarette
while watching Krycek hone his craft. Unfortunately, in war, all must die,
including his smoking colleague. A shot in the temple by a British weapon
was all it took, sometimes.
Now he had Lt. Mulder to keep him busy. He will talk. He will submit.
And if he does not talk, he will submit again and again. A laugh escaped
his lips as he pulled on the large black hat. The skull and crossbones that
decorated it below the eagle and swastika shone brilliantly in the light.
"Welcome to hell, Lt. Mulder. I am the Devil. And you will be
worshipping at my feet before I'm done with you." He laughed again as
he stepped away from his mirror and gave himself a final look before leaving
his quarters.
Mulder looked up, eyes wide as the door swung open. The walls and door
were so thick that he could not hear them come down the hallway. At any
minute, such as this particular one, someone could walk through the door.
Mulder swallowed, his mouth bone dry. It was him. He was wearing a long,
leather trenchcoat over his uniform. How Mulder wanted that coat. He was so
cold, so tired.
Krycek bent down and looked at his captive. "How is my little dog
today? Hmmm? My little American mutt." He reached out and caressed the
scab on Mulder's cheek from his torture yesterday. "Are you ready to
talk, my little dog? Or do you want more of what happened yesterday?"
Mulder tried very hard to keep from heaving. He couldn't talk. He was
horrified to think of what happened yesterday.
"Tell me, Lt. Mulder. When are your allies planning their next
bombing raid? Where is it going to be? Berlin, Bonn, Hamburg? Where?"
He saw the terror in Mulder's eyes. Once again he reached out to touch the
scab on his cheek with a leather-gloved hand. "You will tell me these
answers, Lt. Mulder," he whispered.
"N...n...no. I won't. You'll have to kill me first," Mulder
croaked.
Kryek's eyes narrowed. This was not what he wanted to hear. "You will!
Have you not learned your lesson from yesterday? Hmm? Do you want more
of the crop?" Krycek brandished the riding crop to embellish his point.
"I won't...I won't betray my country."
"Fuck your country." Krycek drew up the riding crop and started
beating Mulder relentlessly. Mulder cried out in pain from each blow. Kycek
made sure to reopen many of Mulder's wounds from the previous whipping,
watching the blood flow with lust blazing in his cold green eyes. He
stopped. He was panting as hard as Mulder. Turning, he took off the gloves,
then the heavy coat and hat and hung them on one of the hooks on the wall.
"P-p-p-please," moaned Mulder.
Krycek's eyes narrowed again as he knelt before his captive. The blood
was flowing freely now from various wounds on his body. He bent over Mulder
and once again licked several of the lashmarks, lapping away the blood
hungrily. As each cut stopped bleeding, he repeated the process on another
one, leaving only the one on Mulder's face untouched. He didn't want that
one to scar.
Mulder whimpered as he felt the Nazi's tongue run over his wounds. Not
again, not again. No, not again. He tried to remain calm but started
bucking and convulsing again.
Krycek stood back for a minute before producing the key to unchain Mulder
from his shackles. As he unlocked the last one, Mulder scurried to cower in
a corner. Krycek raised his eyebrows. Yes, just like a little dog. He
was still hot. He took off his jacket and the Iron Cross around his neck.
Now was the time to make his deal.
"Lt. Mulder, how would you like some food?"
Mulder looked over at the man towering above him. He was so hungry, just
the mention of food sent his stomach growling. "Food?"
Krycek's mouth twisted into a leer. "Yes, food. But this food is not
free." He knelt before Mulder again and started caressing his thigh.
"All food must be bought."
Mulder stared at Krycek in horror. Did he just say what I thought he
said? "No fucking way!"
Krycek looked at Mulder for a minute. His face growing red. "I don't
believe you have a choice." Krycek then left the cell.
"Oh God, please don't let him do this to me again," Mulder
whimpered
Krycek came back a minute later with a small tray of food. "If you
touch this, I will draw and quarter you. We still do that, you know."
Krycek let out a small laugh before proceeding to get undressed. He stripped
down and put his boots back on before looking at Mulder again.
"Now. A piece of bread requires you to lick my boots. Both of them.
You may begin now."
Mulder looked up at the contempt in the Nazi's eyes. "Please don't
make me do that again."
"As I said, Lt. Mulder, you have no choice. Now, clean my
boots."
Mulder knelt down and stuck his tongue out. He gagged once before
applying it to Krycek's boots. He licked one, then the other, choking down
sobs the whole way.
"That's it, my little doggy, lick them clean." Krycek said. He
had to admit, Lt. Mulder was a very good prisoner. Always willing to do just
what his captors wanted him to - except talk - but that would change.
When Mulder had finished his job, Krycek handed him a piece of brown
bread. It was heavenly. A strong nutty flavor, moist, the best bread he had
ever tasted. Mulder ensured to take small bites as his stomach might not be
able to handle large pieces after having nothing in it for days.
Krycek waited until Mulder was finished before tilting his head up with
the riding crop. He noticed how his hazel eyes had flecks of gold in them.
"You must be thirsty after that bread. You may clean my legs with your
tongue for a sip of water."
Mulder's mouth opened and closed, but then his eyes dropped in defeat. He
rose to his knees and put his hands on the back of Krycek's legs. If nothing
else, being close to this Nazi pig gave him some warmth. One after the
other, Mulder licked up the legs before him, stopping at the crease where
leg met thigh, as he did yesterday.
"That was very good. You may now have your water." Krycek
handed Mulder a small tin cup, filled to the brim with cool, clean water.
Mulder took the cup carefully, so as not to spill even a single drop, and
drank the water down, hoping to rinse the taste of Krycek from his mouth.
He handed the cup back to Krycek. Finally, food and water. How long had
it been? Would it be enough to sustain him, or would it just be enough to
keep him alive to have them torture him until the end of the war? Whenever
that would be.
"This is a small bowl of broth." Krycek pointed to an object on
the tray. "It's not much, but it's better than the other prisoners are
getting. I would like you to stand and lick my nipples. I want you to do a
good job too. When I am satisfied, you may have the broth."
Mulder stood up, Krycek helping him to his feet. They were face to face.
He was about two inches shorter than the other man, which Mulder attributed
to the boots. He was not that old either, 32, 35 at the most. His green eyes
were like emeralds, almost glowing. They might have been kind eyes at one
time but now showed the ravages of war, hard and cold like ice. Mulder bent
down and put his arms around his captor; Krycek was so warm. He began
licking one brown, flat nipple, bringing it to a hard peak.
Krycek closed his eyes and sighed. Oh, this felt good. He wove his hand
through Mulder's hair, bringing his head over to his other nipple. Mulder
tugged on it with his teeth, nipping at the hairs that surrounded it. Krycek
could feel himself start to harden. His cock ached to be touched. Finally,
he brought Mulder's head away from his chest.
"That was very good, Lt. Mulder. You may now have the broth."
He handed the tin bowl to Mulder, who started drinking it down slowly, his
hazel eyes locked on his own. When Mulder was done, he took the bowl from
him and replaced it on the tray.
Krycek smiled. "I have something here that not too many people have,
Lt. Mulder. I have an orange. The whole thing is yours if you suck my cock.
What do you say?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Yes. I can chain you up again, and you can watch me eat the
orange."
Mulder licked his lips. He wanted that orange.
"Have you ever known someone to die of scurvy, Lt. Mulder? All your
insides turn to jelly; the tissue disintegrates; it's quite messy. On the
Eastern Front, scurvy is rampant. I will not bore you with tales of death
and disintegration right now, however. What's it going to be?"
Mulder nodded his head.
"I'm glad. Now. Suck my cock."
Mulder knelt before the man and steadied himself for a minute before
taking a deep breath. He pulled Krycek's foreskin back, showing a
purple-headed cock. It was very hard. Mulder licked the tip, bringing a
shudder from above. He could smell the other man's musk, feeling with horror
his own cock react to it. Licking the underside of the head, his lips closed
around it. Applying steady suction, he took in another inch, then another,
forcing himself to relax his throat muscles. His own cock was starting to
throb. How could this be turning him on? How could his own body betray him
like this? He continued to suck on the Nazi's cock, swirling his tongue
around and around, gaining satisfied sighs from above.
Krycek sucked in his breath. How he loved this man's mouth. He knew
exactly what to do with his tongue as well. It didn't take long for Krycek
to start moaning and bucking, fucking Mulder's mouth. Finally, with a grunt,
he came, emptying himself down Mulder's throat. When Mulder finished
swallowing, he brought him up for a kiss. He needed to taste himself in the
other man's mouth.
Mulder pulled away, his hazel eyes filled with confusion. What the
hell was that?
Krycek just smirked at him before turning away for a minute. When he
turned back, he had the orange in his hand. He started peeling the orange,
looking over at Mulder, noticing his erection.
"You have paid well for this morsel, Lieutenant."
Mulder's mouth watered as the zest of the orange released its tart scent.
Krycek decided to take his time peeling the orange and dividing it into
sections. The perfect flesh glistened. Krycek took one of the sections and
pressed it against Mulder's lips. The mouth opened and took it inside.
Section after section was fed to Mulder this way.
Mulder was in bliss. How could a thing like an orange be so sensual? He
closed his eyes as another section of orange was pressed against his lips.
He took not only the succulent bit of orange but also the fingers that held
it inside his mouth, sucking on them, licking them. God, what was he doing?
Was this real?
A shiver ran up Krycek's spine. He was starting to harden again. Just the
look of Mulder, holding onto his wrist, licking the juice from his fingers
was enough to bring a silent moan to his lips.
"That's good; lick it all up; get every last drop."
When Mulder was done with the orange, Krycek kissed him again. His tongue
explored the other man's mouth, tasting the sweet acidity of the orange. He
noticed that Mulder had relaxed somewhat. He kissed him some more, his hands
caressing the prisoner's back. Krycek moved in to rub his crotch against
Mulder, letting their erections touch. A moan entered his mouth from the one
before him. That was just what he wanted to hear.
A shockwave ran through Mulder. Did he just moan? Why was this particular
man making him so hard? Suddenly, Krycek pulled away. Mulder suppressed the
whimper that formed on his lips. A gasp was let out instead as Krycek
started to kiss down his neck and down, latching onto a nipple. Mulder
released another moan. Oh God, this felt so good. How could this be? How
could he get pleasure from a Nazi who, by the looks of the decorations on
his uniform, had killed many. He was SS, for Christ's sake!
Krycek was rock hard. The smell and taste of this man was like nothing he
had smelled or tasted before. He forced himself to pull away and look at
Mulder. His lips were swollen from the kissing as well as passion. He
stroked the side of his face with his hand before stepping away and laying
his coat on the floor. He then lay flat on his back, hands behind his head,
bringing Mulder down to crouch beside him.
"How would you like a blanket?"
Mulder's eyebrows rose. "How?" Mulder couldn't imagine what
more the Nazi could want from him.
"There is one thing yet to do, Lieutenant. For that, you may have a
blanket. Come here. I want you to kneel over me, straddling my waist."
Krycek knew that this was risky, but Mulder was weak from lack of food, and
he wasn't a fool. The American knew he couldn't escape, so Krycek was
willing to gamble for the resulting pleasure.
Mulder obeyed his captor but at the same time, tried to keep his ass from
making contact with the German. No luck, Krycek forced him to sit down on
his haunches, bringing his ass into the cradle of Krycek's pelvis. Mulder
sat frozen, afraid to move, until Krycek's hand behind his neck forced him
to bend forward to meet the other man's kiss. The position made it easy for
Krycek to slide his other hand over the American's ass.
He stroked one finger lightly over the tight ring of muscle, his hand on
Mulder's neck holding him down when he jumped at the sensation. Krycek
gradually worked three fingers inside Mulder, one after the other, making
the other man whimper with pleasure at the sensation. Finally, when Mulder
was thrusting uncontrollably back on those fingers, unable to stop himself
despite his horror, Krycek pulled out of him.
Mulder whimpered in protest before he realized what he was doing. He was
so close to coming, his cock dripping with pre-come.
"If you want more," Krycek whispered, "you have to take me
inside you."
Mulder stared at him blankly, his hips still moving involuntarily.
Krycek tilted his pelvis suggestively, brushing his cock against Mulder's
ass. Mulder's eyes widened as he realized what Krycek wanted him to do.
"No!"
Krycek just laughed, stroking Mulder's cock and balls, keeping him on the
brink. He kept playing with the American's body until the other man was
nearly screaming, desperate to come. Every so often he stroked the yearning
hole, never going inside despite Mulder's frantic movements. "Take me
into you," he repeated, holding his cock steady to make it easier for
the American...this time.
Finally, tears running down his face, Mulder shifted back until the cock
pressed against his entrance. He closed his eyes, unable to look at Krycek
at this moment, and forced himself down on it in one long, slow glide.
Krycek waited until he was nearly all the way inside Mulder before
catching his hips and slamming him down while he thrust upward. Mulder
screamed when Krycek's cock hit his prostate, overwhelmed by the pleasure.
Krycek forced himself to lie still, making Mulder do all the work. When he
was close, he started to thrust into Mulder's ass and stroke his cock in the
same rhythm.
Mulder started sweating in the damp cold of the cell. This felt so good,
so good. Oh God, how could this feel so good? Coherent thought was ripped
from Mulder's mind as his orgasm traveled through his body. His eyes
fluttered closed for a second as the bright light shone brightly from behind
his eyelids. His body felt as if it was being turned inside out, and a raw
moan escaped his throat. He wanted to collapse on top of the other man, but
he couldn't bring himself to do it, couldn't show him he enjoyed it that
much.
Krycek thrust his hips up one, two, three times, then he was done. A
grimace crossed his face as he came into the American with a cry. He
breathed hard, his breath steaming in the rapidly cooling air of the cell.
He looked up at Mulder, who was breathing heavily as well.
Mulder disengaged himself from the German and crept backwards until his
back was against the wall. He felt so dirty, so used. Yet he had this
tingling passion running though his body from the orgasm.
"That was very nice, Lt. Mulder. Unfortunately, you are not done,
quite yet."
Mulder looked at the man as if he was crazy. What more could he put him
through? How much was he to endure?
"You may lick me clean, then it is finished."
Mulder's mouth opened. Lick him clean? Of his own come? He stifled a gag,
not wanting to lose the food he just ate. Who knew how long it would be
before he ate again?
"Come here, Lt. Mulder; let's have that sweet mouth of yours do some
good." Krycek grabbed Mulder by the wrist, gaining a cry from the other
man when he squeezed his welt.
Mulder knelt over Krycek and started lapping up the come. The absence of
food for a few days had afforded him very little come. He licked along the
Nazi's stomach and chest, over his nipples and up to his chin, getting every
last speck. Suddenly, the German pushed him away and stood up.
Krycek dressed quickly. The guards would be coming down the hallway any
minute for the rounds. He couldn't be caught naked with another man. No
matter what his rank and decorations, homosexuality was not tolerated in the
Third Reich. He would rather die than sew a pink triangle on his clothes and
be treated as one of the impure. Collecting the tray, he opened the cell
door. Bending down, he picked up a thin blanket from the floor outside,
tossing it over Mulder. He left without a word, leaving Mulder to clutch his
reward around himself while he tried to hold back his sobs.
END
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