Mind Over Matter
Manipulative bastard—he played me as if I was an idiot. Again.
The conclusion with which I had fallen asleep did nothing to disturb my
rest. Once again I woke up cheerful and glowing, wearing the same satisfied
grin I thought I'd got rid of permanently the week before. This time,
however, it took me only about five minutes to remove all traces of
happiness from my face. The practise from the week before proved very
helpful indeed.
I spent the whole journey to work and the first half hour already in the
office carefully not thinking about the previous night. It was only the
realisation of how ineffective that strategy had turned out to be the week
before which finally convinced me to get my head out of the sand.
I thoughtfully moved my chair closer to the desk to cover my body's
inevitable reaction and let myself be flooded with memories of the previous
night.
A warm flush instantly crept up my face as my senses were assaulted with the
sensations from the night before. It was all so real: Krycek's smell, the
salty taste of his satin skin, the feel of his hardened nipples rubbing
against my chest, and most of all, the incredible heat surrounding my cock
when I was buried deep in his statuesque body. I almost came in my pants,
right there and then, and only the thought of Scully sitting at the desk on
my right and probably watching me carefully right at that moment, trying to
guess what was wrong with me, saved me from destroying my boxers and
possibly my suit pants while I was at it.
I bit my lip and, when I regained some semblance of control over my body,
stole a quick glance at Scully, certain that I would encounter a blue
questioning gaze and hear the troubled "Mulder, are you OK?". Luckily,
though, she seemed to be too engrossed in her medical journals to notice my
odd behaviour.
I sighed with relief and returned to the problem at hand, which was: How to
think about Krycek without achieving an orgasm? God, I couldn't believe how
ridiculous my life had become all of a sudden.
Eventually I decided to concentrate on one problem at a time, hoping to
cheat my libido by indulging my mind in contemplation of a concrete
question.
First of all, why did Krycek come to me? He claimed he wanted to help me but
I'd learnt the hard way never to trust the lying bastard. On the other hand,
I somehow couldn't think of anything he might have gained by doing what he
had done. If he simply wanted to mess with my head, there were more
efficient ways. Yet, for some reason, Krycek decided that endangering his
life by fulfilling my desires was a good idea. Maybe he'd finally lost his
mind? Not an improbable occurrence considering all he'd been through and all
he knew about. The only problem with that theory was that the last thing
Krycek behaved like was a madman. Quite the opposite actually; he was
perfectly in control of the situation—more so than I was.
OK, so let's assume, just hypothetically, that he really was trying to help
me, without any hidden agenda. What would that mean?
My head instantly started to swim with half-formed theories, some of which
were really scary. I clearly wasn't ready to answer that question yet.
With much effort I managed to silence my mind and move on to the next aspect
of the matter: Why did Krycek choose that particular way of helping me?
Could it even be considered helping? He said that he had used more indirect
ways before, things like stealing the vaccine from the Russians or making
Skinner reconsider my committal, but I had no way to find out if that was
true. He even mentioned himself that I probably wouldn't believe him and
therefore he had to change his tactics. That, however, didn't mean I should
trust him just to spite him...
OK, another dead-end. I had better find something else to ponder before I
lost myself completely in attempting to disentangle the layer upon layer of
mind games he was playing with me.
Perhaps it was time for me to take up the thing that struck me most during
his visits; Krycek's desperation to let me know he was on my side, even if
only from time to time.
Well, that one seemed easy enough: Krycek was always playing in more than
one league at a time, double-, triple- or even quadruple-crossing anyone
stupid enough to trust him. It was one of his survival methods no doubt,
ensuring that, whoever came out on top in the end, he would have been seen
on their side.
Or was it?
Yeah, it was.
Maybe.
Fuck.
It was painfully obvious that I had no clue as to what really made the
puzzling bastard tick. And that meant that the only thing I could do was try
and establish the cause of my own behaviour, no matter how much I cringed
inwardly at the thought of digging into the feelings this particular person
awoke.
Gritting my teeth, I summoned all my courage and faced the music: It was I
who, in a way, had initiated the sex both times.
Clueless as I was as to why I got hard during the massage he'd given me, I
had to accept the fact that I DID get hard, and that it wasn't my natural
reaction to receiving a massage at all. It actually seemed more like my
natural reaction to Krycek, if I took into account all the half-erections
I'd got during our earlier encounters and which I used to ascribe to the
free flow of adrenaline through my body. Did that mean then that I was
actually attracted to a man?
I paused and doubtfully reconsidered my conclusion. Could it really be so?
After all, I'd never traced in myself even the slightest inclination towards
the same sex. Unless I counted the recent insanity of course, or my earlier
persistent need to hit Alex whenever I saw him. It seemed then that my every
potential step to bisexuality was caused by that long-lashed devil. Even
now, when I tried to think about any other man as a possible lover, I only
felt disgust, while thinking about him caused instant waves of heat wash
through my body.
So what was so special about him that made me crave him, heedless of my
usual sexual preferences? I had to admit that he was gorgeous, but there
certainly were more beautiful males in the world, the fact that I somehow
couldn't think of any at that moment notwithstanding, and I didn't lust for
any of them. What could it be then? The fact that he believed me, that he
knew? His independence? Traitorous nature? The mystery always surrounding
him? What?
I had no idea.
Yet the fact remained—I wanted him. I could feel the burning desire spiral
in the pit of my stomach and lurk in my groin even now, when I was carefully
blocking the images of his naked body writhing underneath mine from entering
my mind.
Now, did he want me? The evidence seemed to indicate that he did but on the
other hand it wasn't exceptionally difficult to imagine Krycek whoring
himself to achieve whatever evil ends he wanted to achieve. Actually, when I
was thinking about it, I remembered that I did suggest that both times and
he didn't even protest. Did his lack of denial mean he admitted I guessed
correctly? And if so, exactly how many people was he "helping"?
The world darkened suddenly, and got hazy round the edges as red-hot fury
unexpectedly surged through my body at the possibility of Krycek submitting
to someone else.
Was he?! Was I just one of the fools he fucked for some yet uncovered but
certainly menacing reason?! Who were the others?!
Clenching my fists I glanced wildly around the office, my gaze naturally
stopping at Scully since she was the only person present; my beautiful,
perfect Scully, sitting there behind her desk with a self-satisfied smile on
her lips and a dreamy expression in her eyes. She looked good, great
actually, beaming with a sort of inner light that I'd somehow never seen on
her before. Was that because I'd never taken much notice of her unless she'd
been dying of cancer, or because she hadn't had that light until she spent a
hot night of kinky sex with a certain one-armed assassin?
Luckily, the implications of my outburst caught up with me before I made
some stupid mistake, pushing me from rage to panic in the blink of an eye.
My God, when did I grew so possessive of Krycek that I was ready to erase
the trust and friendship I shared with Scully because of one completely
unexcusable fit of jealousy? What was wrong with me? What had the bastard
done?
Horrified at myself, I swore solemnly never again to let my emotions take
hold of me, especially if the emotions were in any way whatsoever connected
to Krycek.
No more fury that made me putty in his hands since it was so predictable; no
more jealousy with its potential to destroy my partnership with Dana; and
most importantly—no more lust.
None at all.
And I wasn't sporting an erection, damn it!
Sticking strictly to my resolution, I greeted Skinner politely instead of
punching him when, a couple of hours later, I saw him on the corridor,
smiling of all things, to some agent he was talking to.
After all, the fact that I'd never seen the man smile before didn't mean
that he'd suddenly started to get laid regularly, by a lover so skilful and
persuasive that the AD was ready to do anything for him, even sign one of
his stray agents out of a mental hospital.
Yep, I didn't punch him, although I do admit that the knuckles of my right
hand were a bit sore for the next couple of days after I tried to smash the
tiles on the bathroom wall with my fist. Still, nobody can prove that
smashing tiles wasn't simply my way of checking whether the walls in the
Hoover building were strong enough.
Thus having got rid of jealousy, I started to work on fury and lust,
achieving some very promising results.
During the next two weeks, for example, I didn't get angry once,
concentrating instead on solving as many cases as I could. I even found a
new informant, a very mysterious guy who possessed much more accurate data
than any of my previous contacts. Thanks to him, I not only got closer to
the truth than I'd ever been, but I also didn't have time to sit in my
apartment and long for... well, for anything.
If I ever got turned on, I simply put one of my videos in the VCR and jerked
off to it, carefully ignoring whatever dark fantasies my twisted brain came
up with.
Unfortunately, you can only be lucky for so long, and my winning streak was
to end on one cold and stormy night.
I was sitting in my apartment, pondering on the newest bit of information
from my aforementioned source, when I heard the soft click of the front door
closing—my only warning that Krycek was back in town.
I looked up and there he was, in his usual bad boy gear, arrogantly dripping
on the floor of my living room.
Needless to say, all the emotions I had managed to keep bottled for two
whole weeks instantly burst out, nearly tearing me apart in the process. All
I was able to register for the next few minutes was a blur of movement and
when conscious thought returned to me, I found myself straddling him, much
as I'd done during our previous encounter, the only difference being that I
wasn't choking him this time but clutching on his lapels.
Surprisingly enough, my deathgrip on Krycek's leather jacket seemed to work
better than a strangulation attempt as far as intimidation techniques were
concerned, because this time Alex was actually squirming under me, as if he
was trying to get away.
It was only after I noticed the strange, muffled sounds he was making that I
realised the bastard was in fact having a severe laughing fit, not a panic
attack as I thought at first. After that revelation, it was easy to
establish what the reason for his unexpected good humour was—myself, or
rather the hysterical nonsense steadily coming from my mouth as I yelled at
him for his alleged affair with Skinner, Scully, Spender and whoever else I
could think of.
The instant the complete assessment of the situation registered, I did the
only thing I could under the circumstances—I shut up and fled as far away
from him as the limited capacity of my living room would allow, praying that
he didn't notice the shamed blush I could feel burning on my cheeks and
neck. Even my ears must have been crimson, I just knew.
On the other hand, the situation had the unexpected merit of reducing Krycek
to a helpless puddle, howling and gasping for breath, with tears streaming
from his tightly shut eyes. I knew that it was my chance to throw him out,
since he wouldn't be able to put up much of a fight in the state he was, but
I simply couldn't make myself crawl out of the shadows I was hiding in to
face him. Actually, I wasn't particularly fond of going out of my corner at
all. Ever.
So I settled for watching him slowly getting grip on himself, hoping that he
would leave of his own volition. His job here was done after all, I was
utterly humiliated and nothing he could possibly do could make me feel any
worse. Well, nothing but Krycek trying to coax me out of my hiding place as
if I was a skittish animal, which was apparently what he intended to do,
creeping towards me like that.
"My, Mulder, I never knew you cared so much about Scully's sex-life." he
purred once he had approached my post. "But then, I always knew there was no
way for me to ever compete with what you two have. Your concern for Skinner,
however, really makes me jealous. I think I'll kill him again just to feel
better. And this time, I just might not revive him."
For a long moment I just stared at him in complete disbelief. Did he really
intend to conveniently overlook the fact that I was jealous of HIM and not
of his supposed lovers? Hell, if he did, who was I to argue!? I was more
than willing to forget about the gaping logic holes in the explanation of my
outburst that he was proposing, especially since, thoughtful guy that he
was, Krycek made sure to drown any possible opposition in a wave of my
well-known fury.
"You son of a bitch!" I shouted, lunging at him again. "It was you! Fuck, I
knew those lashes looked familiar! You killed Skinner! Wait, you said you
could do it again?! You're not blackmailing him, are you?!"
"As a matter of fact, I am." Krycek groaned from underneath me, wiping away
the blood that had started to drip from his mouth after a particularly
vicious punch.
I hit him again for good measure, and then, knowing our game when I saw it,
I gladly slipped into the role of his master, too shaken up by the evening's
events to remember I'd sworn never to do that again.
"That's enough. Go to the bedroom and get out of these wet clothes." I
ordered, thrilled by the addictive sense of power his instant compliance
caused. "Oh, and Alex, you're gonna stay for the whole night this time."
Krycek paused and turned to look at me after the last comment, visibly
hesitating.
I met his gaze steadily, wordlessly letting him know I was adamant in that
aspect and challenging him to disagree.
Sure enough, my unwavering posture produced the desired effect and soon his
resistance ebbed away, leaving only silent acceptance. He nodded and
disappeared in the bedroom, making me feel like the king of the world just
because I had managed to bend him to my will yet again.
God, the power games he was letting me play with him certainly were
intoxicating. I could hardly wait to see what else was on the menu for
tonight.
I stood up and went to the bathroom for some water and a towel, which I knew
we'd soon need, and then I finally headed for the bedroom, unable to test my
impatience any further.
When I entered, Krycek was in the act of putting away the garbage I had
managed to accumulate on the bed since his last visit, his still fully
clothed body moving with the graceful precision of a wild cat.
I sighed with appreciation at the show he was unconsciously putting on and
let my hand drift between my thighs to lazily stroke my waking erection.
Hell, we had the whole night; I could come just watching him move if I felt
like it.
Only that I didn't feel like it, not really. I intended to make every little
bit of pleasure I'd achieve that night as intense as possible, and that
meant I wasn't going to waste even one climax on masturbation. I had enough
of that when I was alone, thank you very much.
Without further hesitation, I peeled myself away from the wall against which
I was leaning and went to pull the sensual creature before me into my arms.
Alex didn't struggle in the slightest, although I could tell he was rather
amazed at my sudden act. Once he'd realised what my intentions were, he
simply let his head rest on my shoulder and wrapped his arm around my waist.
It felt surprisingly good to just hold him like that, without violence or
pain. I could almost forget all the bitter betrayals dividing us when the
warmth and sheer presence of his body was filling up my senses. Only the
inevitable rise of desire was finally able to destroy the unexpected peace
between us, starting our hands roaming all over each other's bodies.
I decided to undress Krycek myself this time, feeling every bit like a child
unpacking its Christmas present as I was slowly peeling away the wet clothes
that hid his full glamour from my eyes.
Every time I uncovered a new patch of skin, I just had to check thoroughly
with my lips whether it had changed in the last two weeks, so that by the
time I finished Alex was panting and squirming in the most delightful way.
When he was completely naked, I pushed him down on the bed and impatiently
grabbed his bag to retrieve the necessary supplies.
I was also curious as to what else I might find in its dark recesses, since,
judging by his earlier visits, it was where Krycek always carried the handy
toys he intended to use.
The bag didn't disappoint this time either, containing beside lube and
condoms a fairly big, round object.
I took the thing out to examine it by the light of the lamp and then looked
at Alex quizzically: "Chocolate sauce? You're shameless, Krycek, you know
that?"
Alex wasn't perturbed by my accusation at all and the sight of his
incredible body stretched sinfully on the covers in all its glory soon
convinced me that modesty, or even basic decency, was vastly overrated.
Unable to wait a moment longer, I pulled off my sweats in one movement and
charged to the bed, wielding the plastic bottle like a weapon.
If the fierceness of my attack didn't scare Krycek, the devious gleam in my
eye certainly did the job, because his eyes suddenly widened a bit and he
twitched slightly as if he wanted to hide under the covers, if I hadn't been
fast enough to prevent it.
Kneeling on the bed beside him, I feasted my eyes on the beautiful offering
laid out so enticingly, my unfailing memory busily prompting me with all
kinds of interesting places from which I could lick off the sauce in a way
guaranteed to make Krycek lose his mind.
I started with one of the most surprising erogenous zones my conscientious
inspection from two weeks earlier had uncovered; that is, from the patch of
soft skin on the inner side of Alex's left leg, right above the ankle.
I squeezed some of the chocolate on the sensitive spot, making sure to coat
the whole area with a thick layer of the rather cool sauce, and proceeded to
teasingly lap at the sweet cream with my hot tongue.
Mhm, the taste was heavenly but what really made it the best meal of my life
was the additional sound effects my licking caused. Who could ever have
suspected Krycek would be that oral? There I was, suckling on his ankle,
while he was writhing and moaning as if it was at least his cock that was
being stimulated.
Encouraged by my success, I moved on to the next of Alex's sweet spots,
determined to hit them all before I lost the ability to think clearly,
something I knew was inevitable. I was even careful enough to avoid looking
at him now, knowing what devastating effect the sight of Alex in the throes
of passion had on me.
When I finally got to his cock, I expected to have to battle with my inner
self for the chance to continue with my bold project. To my utter surprise,
however, no protests were voiced, and I took that as an invitation to
torment Krycek in the most cruel way I could think of.
I lay my head on his thigh and started to squeeze the sauce on the tip of
his straining erection, watching with fascination the heavy drops of shiny
chocolate run down his sensitized skin to pool at the base and then leak
further down, over the tightly drawn balls, into the crease between his
buttocks, until they finally reached the bed.
Alex was going crazy under me, trying very hard to rub himself against
anything he could reach, moaning and panting with total abandon.
When his cock was thoroughly coated with chocolate, I finally gave in to the
temptation and sucked greedily on the sweet column, savouring the power rush
that holding another man's dick in my mouth was giving me. He was so
completely in my control now that I was practically able to make him do or
say anything at all. That is, if he was influenced half as strongly as I'd
been when he'd been doing the same to me; and judging by the unmistakable
sounds of appreciation he was making, I was repeating his technique from
three weeks earlier quite accurately.
The silky, musky reality of blowing a guy was getting me addicted pretty
damn fast, beating nibbling on sunflower seeds hands down. Still, when
Krycek's moans reached the crescendo, and the cock in my mouth suddenly
seemed to grow even thicker, I panicked and moved away, feeling slightly
nauseous at the thought of what I'd barely avoided.
"You bastard!"
I would have smiled at the soul-deep anguish in Krycek's yell, but suddenly
the world made an unexpected turn and before I knew what was going on, I was
lying on my back with Krycek hovering above me with such rage and wildness
in his eyes that for a terrifying and indescribably sweet moment I thought I
was going to die from the hand of the too turned-on assassin.
Not changing his dangerous stance a bit, Krycek reached out for the supplies
and just as I overcame the momentary paralysis his sudden attack had caused,
his clever fingers closed around my so far neglected cock, sending jolts of
electric pleasure throughout my body and efficiently pinning me down again.
Yet, giving me a hand-job apparently wasn't what Krycek had in mind, because
I soon felt a condom being spread over my throbbing erection, and then drops
of lube running down my coated shaft, mirroring the torture through which
I'd put Krycek mere minutes earlier.
// Oh God! Please don't let it be revenge!// I thought in panic, certain I
could never take what I had had no problem whatsoever with dishing out.
Fortunately, my earlier manoeuvres had left Krycek much too needy for
teasing of any kind, and before my latest thought was even finished,
something hot and unbearably tight started to suck in my aching hard-on. I
forced my eyes to focus on the source of the delightful sensation, but
instantly regretted my curiosity as the sight that welcomed me pushed me
right to the edge of orgasm: Krycek was kneeling over my hips, carefully
guiding my cock inside himself as he was slowly sinking down.
I think I must have made some desperate sound, which is only to be expected
of a man suddenly thrown into his most primal sexual fantasy, because
Krycek's feverishly glittering eyes locked with mine just when the warm
weight finally settled on my groin.
Holding the stare, Krycek started softly rotating his hips, until the
sensations caused by the delicate squirming eventually broke his
concentration and made him close his eyes and moan in ecstasy.
Enchanted by the image before me, I struggled to lift my hands and rest them
on Krycek's hips, which wasn't so easy since somewhere along the way the air
had grown so dense it started to resemble thick liquid rather than gas. I
managed it, though, and my fingers soon began to lovingly caress the smooth
skin of the man I was now sure was a seducer from hell with easy access to
my deepest desires.
By this time Alex must have found just the perfect spot, because his ass
started to spasm around my tingling cock with his every move and his soft
moans turned into a low, breathless, incredibly erotic sound, resembling
mewling more than any human tone I've ever heard.
Pleased by the realisation that he was even closer than I was, I started to
stroke his velvety skin, moving my hands down from his hipbones to his
thighs, where I spent a few moments fascinated by the increasingly erratic
tensing of the powerful muscles that accompanied his every move, then up
again on his chest, rubbing the fine drops of sweat into his skin, until my
wandering fingers brushed against a tight nipple, which made Alex throw his
head back and cry out at the unbearably sweet sensation.
Inspired by this reaction, I reached for the chocolate sauce lying forgotten
next to me and squeezed a healthy dollop on the sensitive little bud. Then I
grabbed Alex's hips once again and lifted myself off the bed to lick off the
smudge of chocolate now decorating Alex's smooth chest.
My death-grip on his hips moved Alex forward obviously hitting him just
right because he wailed, arching his trembling body so that the
chocolate-coated nipple was now pushed right into my face.
I suckled on it greedily, using first my lips and then my teeth and tongue
to torment the extremely sensitive bud, until Krycek's ever shorter and more
jumpy undulations ceased completely as he finally reached the peak.
I fell heavily on the bed, quenching the violent protest of my lower back at
the exercise I'd been putting it through, and watched entranced the hottest
porno I could ever hope to see.
Krycek's body went rigid over me, his back arched, skin flushed. As his
muscles flexed, the hot, silky sheath of his ass squeezed my swollen cock
almost painfully hard, only to loosen and tighten again in concentric
ripples moving swiftly up and down my cock over and over again until I was
panting with the agonising pleasure of that erotic massage.
Through the red mist of my quickly coming orgasm I saw the white globs of
Alex's semen spurting out of his straining cock to land in a warm flood over
my chest, and then I was coming too, hot spikes of ecstasy fusing with the
pain still radiating from the area around the small of my back and spearing
every nerve in my suddenly too tight body. I sobbed Krycek's name and
finally surrendered to the onslaught of sensation, letting the heat wave
swallow me whole.
All I felt afterwards was a pleasant heaviness of my whole body and slight
regret that I wouldn't get to fuck Krycek again that night the way I had
intended to. The feeling was much too weak to fight off sleepiness, though,
so I was out like a light in three seconds flat.
Possession III
by Czeri
"I'd rather be liberated
I find myself captivated
Stop doing what you...
Keep doing it too..."
—CATATONIA
