From: syzygyshan@warpmail.net
Date: 29 Jan 2004 18:52:05 -0800
Subject: [atxc-pi] NEW: And Many More -NC-17- (0/1)
Source: atxc

Title: And Many More 
Author: Shannon Kizzia 
Feedback Email: syzygyshan@warpmail.net 
Author's Website: http://hegalplace.com/shannon/ 
Archive at Gossamer: Yes to Gossamer 
Status: NEW - Standalone 
Size: 24k 
Category: Humor, PWP, Rape/Non-Con 
Pairings: Mulder/Krycek 
Rating: NC-17 
Gossamer Category: Story ~ Sex (PWP), Humor ~ Slash 
Summary: Krycek grabs Mulder up for some birthday fun. 
Part 1
Please see part 0 (template) for story information.

And Many More

by Shannon Kizzia (shannon@hegalplace.com)

Website:  http://hegalplace.com/shannon/

Pairing:  M/K

Rating:  NC-17

Keywords:  PWP,  Krycek POV, humor and smut

Warning:  Non-con

Summary:  Krycek grabs Mulder up for some birthday fun.

Spoilers:  This has no plot, but you'll enjoy it more if you've seen
all the eps up through the 5th season.

Disclaimer:  Chris dropped `em, I picked `em up.

Archive:  Sure!  Lemme know where so I can visit!

Date of First Posting:  01/29/04

Author's Notes:  Happy Birthday, Satina!!!!  It was your idea...a
Krycek that was a little over the bend.  ;)  He's my gift to you this
year.  I love you.

..........

So here's the deal.

I've been trying to do this for years.  Well, not this.  Mulder, in
the back of a moving truck, gagged with a silk scarf and trussed up in
enough silk rope to gag ten goats wasn't ever really supposed to be
necessary somehow.

But we're not there yet, are we?

The first year...I was his partner still.  I'd had to have a few beers
to get my nerve up.  But finally I went over to his apartment.  I had
a German Chocolate cake, the entire first season of `Buck Rogers' on
video wrapped in red, shiny paper, and a card that read:  `Happy
Birthday, Partner.'

When I got there, I saw Scully's car...looked up and saw her outline
in the window.  And then I got a call from Fuckface...that's what I
call him, not out loud mind you.  He puffed out that I was on...had a
gig.  I sped away, pissed to the point of tears.  I went and offed
some guy, came home, and ate three slices of cake alone, watching Buck
and that freaky-voiced robot until I fell asleep.

The second year, I had decided just to take him out for a drink.  
Sure, I'd killed his dad.  And I hadn't seen him for a while.  And I
was on the run and about to leave for Hong Kong.  But I was a little
jacked up on the cocaine I got from some anorexic friend of Geri's and
anything sounded feasible.  I didn't really care if he killed me and
was pretty sure he would.  I just wanted him to know I knew it was his
special day.

But I got word that the oil was jumping and had a pretty horrible
feeling that it was gonna wanna track me down since I blew the whistle
on where it was, so I cut out to the Far East a little early.

"Mmmmmm!!!!!!"

This from the peanut gallery.

"Quiet, Mulder, I'm telling a story!"

Anyway...

The next year...well, I had significantly different plans.  I was
gonna send him a mail bomb.  Wrapped up in some Penthouse mag or
something.  Take his right hand right off.

Hey.  Don't get squicked on me now, I lost a whole ARM because of this
guy!

And relax.  I chickened out.  I couldn't do it.  His hands are so
sexy.  I can't ever truly mar him in any way.

And I got over being angry.  We had some good times in Russia after
all.  He and I.  We scuffled in that cell a few times and for a minute
there I thought he might unintentionally get me off against the wall.

But then they dragged him away for `ze test.'

I'm not Russian.  I'm from Montana.

Anyway...  No mail bomb.  I did send him a card.  I got it at a
fag-friendly head shop down in downtown.  It had this beautiful
picture of two men fucking on it and on the inside it said:  `Get
Randy on your birthday...he likes it!'

I didn't sign it.  `Cause Mulder's right.  I used to be a coward.

The next year, I was actually at his apartment for his birthday.  
Yeah, I know!  Crazy, huh?  Unfortunately, it didn't go quite how I'd
planned then either.  I gave him some intel on a rebel alien and
kissed him.  Right on the fucking cheek!  And God, Mulder smells so
good.  All after-shavey and musky and spicy.  And his skin's really
soft for a man.  He uses organic shit on it.  Like Herbal Flowered Oil
of a Young Guy's Asscrack.  Or something.  I'm pretty sure it's
French.

Well, he didn't seem to like that I kissed him.  Well, come to think
of it, he did pucker a little, but I think it was just instinct and he
probably drank a whole bottle of Jeigermeister for it later.

Anyway, nothing happened.  I thought I might get a pity fuck.  You
know, for the arm.  But that's not Mulder's style.

So.

It's now.

And here we are.

"We're here!" I yell back to him.

"Mmmmm!!!!"

"Yep, no problem," I answer, parking the truck behind the abandoned
warehouse.  I kill the engine.

God, I'm so excited!

Are you?

...........

Dammit, I ordered a hundred candles!  Like King of Pain, I said, "Like
`King of Pain!"

My assistant clearly doesn't know what he's doing or is too young to
know the Police.

Or maybe it was `Wrapped Around Your Finger.'

Oh hell, I'm not fooling you, am I?  You're a sly one.  I don't have
an assistant.  It was me.  I ran out of money at Gertie's House of
Goth.  There are like...ten candles scattered on the dirty floor.

They're not lit.  Could've started a fire.  You're not supposed to
leave lit candles unattended.  It says on the bottom of the candle
itself.  So, romance be damned, I dump Mulder, (shirtless because I
cut the garment off of him, heh heh) onto the pallet I have set up
(the one area of the warehouse I swept prior to his arrival) and go
about lighting them all.

They're mostly a creamy white, but two are Santa candles.  You know,
in the shape of Santa.  They were on clearance.  I put them near the
back, behind him.  I didn't realize how dorky they'd look.

"How ya feelin'?" I ask him now.  I'm a little nervous, so I wipe my
hand on my jeans.

"Mmmmm!!!"

"Good, good..."  I reply, looking around and checking our arrangement.  
"All right then," I say.  "Better lock that door."

I close and lock the door and then it's relatively dark in the large,
dusty room.  I'm glad I got the candles.  Not only are they romantic
and I hope he likes the effort I made to help get him in a sexy
mood...but I need them to see his pretty ass by!

"Ooh!  Almost forgot."  I raise my eyebrows at him once.  I go over to
the boombox I set up earlier.  "What kind of music do you like,
Mulder?  Classical?"

"Mmm!"

"Classic rock?"

"Mmm!"

"Death metal?"

"Mmmmmmm!!!!!"

"Okay."  I think for a minute.  "I have a mix tape out in the truck?"

He's silent.  It's a good choice.  I go get the tape and put it in.

No Doubt's `Just a Girl' starts up halfway through.

"That work for ya, sugar?" I ask.  He growls.  I take it as a yes.  
"Guess what else I have?"

Quiet.  Scowling.  Some drool.

I walk over and settle on my heels.  I reach out and run my index
finger along his bottom lip, parting my own as I wipe the wet away
slowly.

"Pretty..."  I whisper.  Then, not a whisper, "Do you know how hard my
dick is right now?"  He grunts.  "Yeah, I think you do.  You frotted
me hard in Hong Kong.  Didn't ya?"  I smile at him.  Then I pinch his
bottom lip between my finger and thumb.  "So...fucking...plump," I
tell him, squeezing really hard on the last word.  Then I stand back
up, hand on hip as he rears his head away from my touch.  "Calm down,
lover," I tell him.  "That's nothing.  You still have your pants on.  
And we're not even fucking yet."

No Doubt fades to Tina Turner.

"Oh, I love this one," I tell him, going over to my bag and pulling
out my treats for him.  I sing under my breath, "Prisoner of your
love.  Entangled in your web."  I look at him on the harsh whisper,
"HOT!  Whispers in the night.  I'm captured by your spell...CAPTURED!"

This is fun.  I bounce on my heels a little, bringing out the cake.  
German Chocolate again.  He fairly screams behind me.  Don't like
chocolate, Fox?  Weird.  I keep singing, a little louder now.  "Oh
yes, I'm touched by this show of emotion.  Should I be fractured by
your lack of devotion?  Should I?  Should I?!  Oh, you better be good
to me."

I turn, the cake held aloft on my palm and I dance over to him across
the filthy floor.  He writhes in his bonds as I sing to him, "That's
how it's gotta be now.  `Cause I don't have no use, for what you
loosely call the truth, and you better be good to me."

I set the cake down next to him and whisper into his face, "Come
on...come on...be good to me."

Then I get up and dance back over to my bag.

"And I think it's oh so right.  That we don't need to fight.  We
stand...face to face...and you present your case.  Yes, I know...you
keep telling me that you love me.  And I really do wanna believe."  
I'm belting now.  "But did you think I'd just accept you, in blind
faith, oh sure babe, anything to please you, but you better be good to
me!"

I reach into the bag, pull out a bottle of champagne.  I bought him
Dom.  I look at it, proud of myself and happy for him.  I turn back to
him, smirking.  I start back over, still dancing a little and gently
shaking the bottle to those weird cow bells that start up in this part
of the song.

Now I just mouth the words to him, "And I really don't see...why it's
so hard to be...good to me."  Shake, shake, shake.  "And you know, I
don't understand...why it's your plan...that you can't be...good to
me."  I'm right on top of him now and I'm pretty shocked that he's
still looking up at me.  Like the wine's a big ol' gun I'm gonna blow
his brains out with it.  Yeah, right.  If he's lucky, I'll stick it up
his ass, though.

On the big, "Be good to me!!!!" I pop the cork and hold it aloft
letting it spill over onto his body copiously, a delicious, expensive,
bubbling waterfall of champagne, all over his writhing, yelling,
gorgeous body.

I smile.

As the song ends, I douse him, getting his torso nice and dripping as
he rolls to get away.  Oooh, yeah, right across his nipples.  I
actually watch them get hard in the cold spray.  Then his face and
hair...  I get his jeans wet, too, all sticky with wine and hugging
his butt and legs and crotch.  Nice.

I save some of it...it's a big bottle...and then sit next to him,
dragging over two champagne flutes.

"Wanna get shit-faced?" I ask, pouring.

"MMMM!!!!!" he hollers, rearing up toward me.  I lean back to avoid
his armless, legless assault.  The BeeGees croon, `More Than a Woman.'

"I'm driving," I add, giggling at my own humor.  "Come on, Mulder.  
Indulge.  It's your birthday."

At that, he stills.  His eyes go wide.  He looks down, like he's
counting in his head.  Then he looks back up at me with a new, dawning
respect for my ingenuity.  That or he's gonna kill me with a plastic
spork when this is all over.

"Did you forGET?!" I ask, eyebrows raised incredulously.  I love
asking him questions like this.  It's a wonderful brand of
euphoria...gagged Mulder.  Plus, he forgot his own birthday.  
How...pathetic...and sweet.  "Have some champagne," I command, ripping
the gag out of his mouth.

"You asshole, motherffffffaaggghhhhhhh!!!"

I pour the wine into his mouth and he chokes and gags and spits,
turning his head and gasping.

"Mulder," I chide.  "Hold still."

I quickly grab him up in a choke hold with my prosthetic.  It's new
and improved.  A sassy, chrome, mechanical number that responds to
signals from the brain sent through the remaining nerve endings.  
It's fantastic.  Especially now as I hold him still and pour the
champagne over his mouth.  A little gets in when it starts to go up
his nose and he has to open his fat, juicy lips or die.

I can't believe I'm not fucking him yet.

I secure the gag again, let him go, and stand, sipping at the rest of
the champagne.

The song changes again.  It's a Depeche Mode thing I've always enjoyed
and appreciated.  It's either called Useful or Useless and it probably
makes a huge difference, but it's the music...the sound I like.  It
always gets me in the mood to fuck.

I strip my shirt off over my head and unbutton my jeans.  Just the
button.  Just a little threat there...a little promise for him.  He
grunts and rolls on his wet blanket.

"Do you wanna eat cake?" I ask, speaking slowly and seductively,
pronouncing the consonants.  "Not hungry?" I ask.  "Maybe...after?"  
I unzip.

"Mm," he grunts, softer now.  Scared?  I look down between his legs.

Hard.

Full.  Hard.  Proud and ashamed at once.

Mulder wants to get it on.

Well, he does and he doesn't.  That's why he's tied after all.  I'm
not stupid.

I approach him again.  Peeling my jeans down a little...pulling out my
swollen, erect cock.  I stroke it lovingly to the lead singer
crooning, `Well it's about time.  It's beginning to hurt."

He blinks.  And he stares.  He tries to swallow around the gag.

I reach out with my booted foot and gently nudge him until he's rolled
over onto his back.

"Anybody ever tell you you're a walking orgasm, Mulder?"

He closes his eyes and breathes fast.

"No?"

No response.

"No, I guess not.  They just went home and screwed their own fists
silly.  Or got naughty with their vibrators if they were women."

He pants.

"Did you get anything good for your birthday this year, hun?" I ask,
just gently fondling my dick.  Up.....down.....up......down...tilting
my head and looking into his deep brown eyes.  "Tell me," I say.  
"I'm not to only person who remembered.....am I?"

It takes a minute, but he drops his gaze.

I sigh.  "You know what you need?"

He blinks his eyes back to my face just glaring at me!  It's great!  
Sooooo hot, though he probably has no idea and would cease and desist
if he did.

"You need...a little...fun..."  I inform him, pulling on my cock a bit
now, aiming it at him provocatively.  "You're way too serious now.  
Didn't used to be that way.  Did you?"

He's stoically silent, not looking at me.  Stubborn little bastard.

"When we were partners..."

That gets a reaction.  His head whips around and there's the glare
again.  My cock surges out to it, up into my hand.  I squeeeeeeeeze.  
So sexy.  He rocks my world, that man.

I take a deep breath.  "When we were..."  I pant a little, thrusting
my hips slowly.  "Partners..."  I lick my lips. "We had fun....didn't
we?"

He swallows.

"Not as much as we're gonna have tonight, but...  We were good
together.  You know we were.  Mulder..."

He closes his eyes and then opens them again.  A definite yes.  Poor
baby.

"I miss it, too," I say.

His eyes plead with mine.  And then he whimpers slightly around a soft
grunt.

I can't help it.  I throw my head back, groaning, and come.

"AhhGOD," I moan, thrusting and fisting my dick and coming all over
his body lying there already sticky with champagne.

I pant as I finish, my cock draining its lust out onto his chest, his
belly, his...face...

"Ohfuck," I breathe.  He's my masterpiece.  He's juicy ripe, his pants
tight trying to hold his erection in.  And he's covered in Dom and
cum.  My cum.  I'd fuck him now even if I was straight.

I drop to my knees and hover over him, a hand on either side of his
body.  He's moaning gently, but when I start to lower my head he
yells.

"Mmmm!!!!!"

I start to lick his chest and he holds his breath, taking that one
last sharp inhale.

I'd've started with his pouty mouth, but I think I want him lying
there with my cum on his lips for a little while, tasting me maybe.  
I wonder if he's ever had a man before.  I realize I don't know.  I
start to lap up the sweet, biting taste of bubbly and me together, and
when I trace a circle around the outside of his nipple, tightening in
on the little, hard nub and finally sucking greedily, he throws his
head back and gasps.  One gasp.  Exhaleinhale.  And then he's holding
his breath again.  Not gonna give me the satisfaction.  I wanna tell
him, "Too late!"

But I'm too busy getting hard again.

I feel my cock brush his hip, the jeans rough on my tender flesh, and
I groan against his nipple.  It tightens even further in my mouth.

I take long, lingering licks over his chest and then finally make my
way to his neck, tilting my head and fitting my face there.  He groans
a little...a need...high in his throat.

"How do I taste?" I whisper into his neck.  I kiss the tendon,
open-mouthed and wet.  "Can I share?"

I mouth my way over his chin, and then I'm kissing his mouth and the
gag at once, working my tongue between it and his lips, biting his
mouth and the cloth.  He growls and pulls at his bindings a bit, but I
settle him with a hand on his chest.

"Shhhhhhh," I soothe.  "Settle down."  A whisper, "It's just a kiss."  
Then I smile.  And lick his lips.

"Mmmm!" he yells.  Then, "Mmmm..."  A moan.

"I'm gonna clean off your belly," I tell him, still taking tiny
nipping kisses at his stretched mouth.  "And then I'm gonna flip you
over and fuck you."

He goes still and I rise up enough to smile down into his eyes.  With
the smile still on my face and his gaze held with mine, I lean down
and lap at his lower abs.

"MMMM!!!" he screams, bucking beneath me.  His hipbone collides with
my mouth and bloodies my lip.  I lean back, wiping my mouth and
looking at the blood on my knuckles with a low chuckle.

"Good one, Mulder.  You know it turns me on when you make me bleed."

He growls, thrashing his head, and I flip him over unceremoniously,
getting him on his stomach and quickly reaching around and working to
get his jeans down.  He bucks a little, but I wrestle him into
position with my body, wrenching his jeans past his ass and down over
his legs to where the ropes bind his legs together just above the
knees.

I haul him up so he's resting on shoulders, cheek, and knees.  In this
position his back is arched and his ass is high in the
air...vulnerable.  I hold him so he won't struggle so much, my legs
the spread ones, braced on the outside of his.  It's gonna be
gooooood.  With him all squeezed together by the ropes and me wild in
him, stroking through that tight hole and ramming myself deep.

I reach around first and let my fingers tentatively find his cock.  
Just the tips of my fingers.  Just barely.  I don't wanna rush.  I'm
smiling a little.  This is a great moment...finally getting my hand
between Fox Mulder's legs.  He stills for it, too.  I lightly stroke
his length, the softest whisper of a touch, tickling until I get to
the head and then half-tapping, half-stroking at his tip until I feel
him shudder beneath me, moaning, and a little pre-cum leaks out.

Have mercy.  His body weeps for me.  And totally against his will.  
It's awesome.  I can't help but lean down, braced on my prosthetic
hand, and lick and suck his shivering asscheeks.  I play with his
hard-on while I bite him, gnaw him, devour him, dip my tongue into the
crack of his ass and start to eat his hole.  He's incredible.  And I
want him slick and ready, `cause I'm gonna...

Ohgod, I can't not.  I extract my tongue from his ass and push off the
floor, releasing his cock, and finding the tube of lubricant I hid
beneath his pallet.  I open it quickly and slather myself.  Then I
line myself up.  Swallowing around my harsh breath, I snap my hips
forward and sink my cockhead inside.

He howls and it's beautiful.  I'm hurting him.  The only way I'll let
myself.  But not too much.  I breathe, closing my eyes and holding my
cock around the base, quivering to have him.

"GawwwwwwdMulder," I groan, feeling his ass trying to suck me in
deeper even though he's crying a little with it.  "Relax when you can,
baby," I breathe.  I let go of myself to run my hand from the very
base of his spine up over his hands, his back, caressing and
reassuring.  I only want it to hurt a little bit.  Just enough to get
his attention.

I push forward a little farther, his ass enveloping my cock up to half
the length.  His hands clench into tight, shaking fists.  I pant
through an open mouth, watching my cock's progress and how he spreads
open for it.  Mulder moans with his face pressed to the floor.

"Tell me if I'm hurting you too much," I tell him.  "Bang your head on
the floor or something."

It might be my imagination, but it sounds like a laugh that escapes
past the gag.  In any case, there's no head banging.  This is a good
sign.

"You feel like fucking heaven."  Adjective and verb.  I thrust forward
and fill him up with my cock until my balls are against his bottom and
he's taking all of me.

He lets forth with a long, low groaning whine.

"Yeah...  Tell me how it feels inside you..."  I'm closing my eyes
now, just holding still and rubbing his back.

He moans.  He pants.  And when I think he's ready, I fuck him.

Slow withdrawal...just a little ways.  I stay in there.  He wants me
in there.  If I take it out too far it'll hurt and burn and the thrust
back in will be like flames licking his poor, open ass.

I take it easy, moving behind him in sweet, smooth, wave-rolling
slowness.  He sucks me back in each time, an agonizingly wonderful
undertow.  My cock's gonna drown.

"Mulder..."  I whisper.

He whines around the gag.

"OhMulder..."

When I start to go faster, still staying deep, keeping him forced wide
open, I wrap my arms around his waist to hold him steady.  It's a
strange sort of hug.  I'm holding him.  Keeping him safe.  As I fuck
his brains out.  I smile blissfully.

I pick up the pace a little more, enthralled by the increased friction
on my cock.  His ass has heated up real nice and I'm losing my
control.  I want him to come.  I want to give something to him that
nobody else will.  I want him to remember.

But I'm losing the battle.  I'm grinding myself into him.  I'm
losing...I'm losing...

"OhMulderyeahUNNN!!!!!  Unnnnnnnnn...."

Fucking FUCK, I have no words to describe how GOOD I feel!  I'm coming
inside Fox Mulder's ass and crying.  Unbearable, this pleasure...

When I'm drained, I leave him with a groan and a hiss, flopping over
onto my back and panting, eyes closed.

He could murder me at this point and I'd go out laughing.

I did Mulder's sweet ass.

Whoooo!!!

I hear him rustling beside me, rolling over probably, falling onto his
side.  I smile.

More rustling.  I'm floatin'.  I'm on cloud nine.  Fucking incredible.

More rustling.  Okay, not just Mulder getting comfortable.  I frown a
little.

I crack one eye open long enough to see him rip the ropes around his
ankles loose.

Shit!

I scramble up to standing and get my dick back in my pants, taking off
toward the door.

He must have gotten to the gag in his mouth because I hear him behind
me, "Get back here you little freak!"

Before I can get the door unlocked, he's on me, grabbing my head and
shoving me down, kicking at my legs and wrestling me around to face
him. He's holding me in place by my hair.

"Goddamnit!" he snarls.  "Get your mouth around me and FINISH
THIS!!!!"

Before my shock fades or the realization hits...before I can consent
joyously, he shoves himself into me up to his balls and roars.

"GGGAAAAAHHHH!!!!!"

Full-throttle, head-thrown-back ecstasy.

And he's down my throat, choking off my breath, pistoning his dick
inside my mouth, holding me still and grunting as he forces me to give
him head.

Forces?  Technically, yes, but...  I'd PAY to do this!!!

I grab his legs, just to keep from being fucked straight through the
steel door at my back, and hang on for the ride of my life.

"Unn...Kruh...Unn...guh...fuh...UNNNN!!!!!"

He comes fast and really hard, grinding himself into my face and
shooting down my throat.  I work to swallow it all and feel him
tremble beneath my hand as he finishes off and starts to come down.  
He lets out one last wonderful groan.

"Ohhhhhhhhalex..."  The very last is a mere breath, but it shocks me.

He steps back and opens his eyes to hooded slits, looking down at me,
still breathing roughly.

I lick my lips and get to my feet a little unsteadily.

He lifts his wrist with the rope dangling from it with a raised
eyebrow.

I nod.  "Good job," I say, but it comes out rough.  "Did you wait til
I was done fucking you on purpose?"

I fully expect to be beaten to within an inch of my life for this.

But he just raises his brow further, and I realize his non-answer is
quite a lot of one.

He pulls his pants up and fastens them.  Then he...he grabs the cake
and heads toward the door.  I move out of his way, still quite
stunned.

He stops and turns to me.  He slaps me across the face with about one
tenth of the force he could have used.  Then he takes my chin in his
fingers.

"Next time...*I* come twice. Got it, asshole?"  Then he plants a fast,
hard kiss on my lips, turns around, and leaves.

I stand in the warehouse alone for...I don't know how long.  I hear
him get into the truck, getting his ruined jacket with the keys and
phone in it I'm sure.  Then I hear nothing.  He's gone.  I stand with
my back against the door waiting for him to come back and kill me.

He doesn't.

It gets late and very dark and my candles dwindle to short stubs.  
Finally, I start to clean up, making sure when I leave that there's
nothing left of us.

I lock the place up and get into my truck.  I put the keys into the
ignition but then I just sit there.

Next time?

Did he say next time?

My eyes settle on the passenger side.

There's a small slip of paper.  An old receipt.  On the back is his
scrawling handwriting:

You're fucked up, Alex.

Thanks.

p.s.  Your birthday's in July...isn't it?

I stare at the thing.  And then I put it in my pocket and start the
engine.

How the FUCK am I going to wait that long???

I pull out of the alley, and drive away.

End

Feedback gone CRAZEE over at shannon@hegalplace.com!

p.s.  What was that Police song anyway???


### The End ###