They're trying to break me, I know it. They're trying to wear me down. I
won't let that happen. He hummed the Star Spangled Banner, Yankee Doodle
Dandy, songs from the Hit Parade, anything to keep him focused. He was an
American, and they wouldn't break him.
Suddenly, the door swung open. Mulder looked up to see a tall man step
through it. He was wearing the black uniform of the SS. The iron cross at his
neck was black, encrusted with diamonds. The eagle on his hat, holding the
wreath with the swastika inside, gleamed in the dim light. A swastika armband
encircled his left bicep. His black jackboots were so shiny, Mulder could see
his face in them. The officer looked down at the quivering form of Mulder on
the floor as the door swung shut with a loud clang.
"Lt. Mulder. How nice to finally meet you in person. I am Commandant
Krycek." The officer bent down to get a closer look at his captive. Those hazel
eyes showed defiance. He stood back up to his full height for a minute before
producing a key. He bent again and began unlocking Mulder's shackles.
Mulder rubbed his wrists and ankles, which were red and swollen. The metal
had cut into his flesh, leaving a scar around each limb.
"How are you enjoying your stay with us? You are getting special treatment,
you know. The other prisoners don't have the luxury of having a roof over their
heads. Being winter, you should be grateful." Krycek stood to put the key back
inside a pocket. He then knelt down beside his captive again, his green eyes
narrowed, mouth twisted into a smirk.
"Lt. Mulder, you have some information that I want. And you are going to
give it to me. What I want to know, Lt. Mulder, is what your Air Force has
planned for us? Bombing raids, when and where?"
Mulder was silent.
Krycek put a boot on top of the welt on Mulder's ankle and pressed down,
gaining a groan of pain from the other man. "Come, come, Lt. Mulder. I know
that you know this information. You would not be here if you didn't." He
pressed down on Mulder's ankle, making him howl with pain. Krycek sighed and
stopped pressing on his ankle.
"F-F-Fox Mulder, Lieutenant, United States Air Force, 15769823," Mulder
sputtered.
Krycek looked at him with contempt. "The Geneva Convention does not apply
here."
"Fox Mulder, Lieutenant, United States Air Force, 15769823," Mulder said
again, this time more strongly.
"Mulder, Mulder, what kind of name is that anyway? Huh? You Americans are
all impure. You reproduce with whomever you choose, creating mutts like dogs."
Mulder spat at the man before him. "Fuck you."
Krycek's face started to turn red. "You want to play games with me? I'll
play games, little man."
His hand came up and down hard as he slashed Mulder across the cheek with
his riding crop. Mulder howled once again as the crop left a bloody wound
across his cheek. Krycek then continued to smack Mulder all over his body with
the riding crop, leaving bruises and cuts.
"Fox Mulder, Lieutenant, United States Air Force, 15769823," Mulder said
shakily.
"You are starting to bore me."
"Fox Mulder, Lieutenant, United States Air Force, 15769823."
Krycek looked down at Mulder's bleeding cheek. The blood was starting to run
down his chin and leave crimson droplets on the floor. He sucked in his breath.
The blood was so red. He brought Mulder to his feet, staring at the blood,
before moving in and licking up the trail with the tip of his tongue.
"Fox Mulder, Lieutenant, United..." Mulder sucked in his breath in shock.
What the hell was he doing?
Krycek continued to lap up the blood, a small moan escaping his lips. His
eyes were closed, and he was practically purring. He held Mulder by the
shoulders, sucking on his chin, getting every last drop. When the blood stopped
flowing, Krycek leaned back, licking his lips.
"What are you, some kind of vampire?"
"Hmph." Krycek's eyes gleamed an icy green. "Are you going to tell me, Lt.
Mulder, what I need to know? Hmmm??" He caressed the wounded cheek with his
leather-gloved hand.
Mulder continued repeating his name, rank and serial number.
Krycek sighed. "If you won't tell me what I want to know, I'll find a better
use for that mouth."
Mulder stopped speaking as he had temporarily lost the ability. He stared at
the Nazi, terrified by the lust he saw in his eyes. He winced as Krycek started
caressing him with the riding crop, following the contours of his body. The
noticeable bulge in the crisp, black SS uniform pressed into his leg. Mulder
closed his eyes and used all his willpower to keep from screaming. This can't
be happening, this can't be happening.
Suddenly, Krycek stopped what he was doing and looked down. It seemed that
some of Mulder's blood had marred the shine on his perfect boots. He pushed
Mulder down on all fours. "Clean up your mess." He pointed to his boots.
"What?" Mulder looked at the drops of blood on the shiny black leather.
"N-n-no, I won't do it. I can't do it."
"What do you mean, you won't? Do it. Now."
"I can't."
Krycek's face turned red. "You will!" He smacked Mulder across the buttocks
with his riding crop, bringing a fresh bout of welts. "Do it!" he screamed.
Mulder could feel the welts rising on his skin. The pain was incredible.
Slowly, he bent forward, bringing his face down to the Commandant's boots. He
was almost gagging, he couldn't do it. He hovered above the shiny black
leather. Suddenly, the riding crop smacked him again, this time across his
back. He let out a cry as he bent his head to try again. He lapped at the boots
once with his tongue, shuddering at the taste of his own blood. He pulled away
with a cry of disgust, shaking.
A smile crossed Krycek's face. He loved it when prisoners were forced to
submit. But this was just the beginning for Lt. Mulder. He had grand plans for
him. Krycek stepped back and undressed quickly. He stood before Mulder again,
this time wearing only his boots and his hat.
"Stay where you are, Lt. Mulder," he said softly. "Do not move." Krycek ran
the riding crop over Mulder's body again, over the welts on his back and
buttocks then down. He could hear Mulder suck in his breath as he ran the crop
between the American's ass cheeks. He paid special attention to that area,
rubbing the end of it against the ring of muscle there.
Mulder didn't know whether to moan or cry. He bit his lip to keep from doing
either.
"Finish cleaning my boots." Krycek said, slapping him lightly on the ass to
reiterate the obvious punishment if he did not.
Shaking, Mulder bent his head and lapped up the smooth, shiny leather. First
one boot, then the other. He breathed a sigh of relief as he ran his tongue
around the top of the second boot. Finished, he sat back, finally able to
breathe.
"Keep going."
Mulder looked up in disbelief. "What?"
"Keep going." The crop came up to threaten the man below him.
He looked at the German without comprehension.
"Clean me now."
He looked at the Nazi in horror. His stomach turned as he realized what he
wanted him to do.
"I said now."
"I can't. Please," he whimpered.
Krycek pressed the tip of his crop inside Mulder warningly.
Shaking violently, Mulder returned his tongue to Krycek's legs. This time
above the shiny leather. He ran his tongue up the skin, tasting him, wanting to
spit the taste out of his mouth. When he got to the thigh, he switched to the
other leg, returning to just above the top of the boot.
"Higher!" Krycek demanded.
Mulder moaned faintly, praying he would just kill him, instead of making him
do this. Suddenly, the crop came up again to threaten him. Mulder raised his
arms to block its blow. Instead the crop caressed his chin and brought his face
up to meet the German's gaze.
"Your face is too pretty for such scars."
Mulder could feel tears well up in his eyes.
"Now. Higher!"
"No! You can kill me, but I won't do it!"
"Oh, I won't kill you, my pretty American. But I will throw you in with the
criminals. What do you think they will do to you? You will be the popular one,
for certain."
Mulder's mouth opened and closed as he realized that being raped by one man
was better than by a dozen. He forced himself to move closer to the Commandant,
almost sobbing as his tongue came into contact with the hot flesh again. He
could smell the musk of the other man's arousal. He licked up to where thigh
met groin. Krycek let out a small moan as Mulder slowly moved up to where the
dark, curly hair was. He swallowed the lump down in his throat as his tongue
made its way up to the Nazi's heavy sac.
"Suck me!" the German ordered, not touching him, preferring to force him to
do it on his own.
Mulder tried, licking tentatively, gagging at the taste.
"I said suck, not lick. Don't you know the difference?" He raised his crop
at Mulder again. "Fucking American dogs, so stupid," he muttered under his
breath.
Mulder swallowed a moan, trying not to let the Commandant see just how much
this was upsetting him. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Reluctantly,
Mulder took the tip of the man's cock in his mouth. Tears welled up in his eyes
as he started to suck on the fragile skin. He contemplated biting down, but
knew that if he did, he would never get out alive. Despite everything, he still
hadn't given up hope of surviving this ordeal.
Krycek started to thrust into his mouth, forcing him to take the cock deep
into his throat. He closed his eyes and moaned as he started to fuck Mulder's
mouth.
Mulder started to gag, but Krycek didn't move away. He managed to relax his
throat muscles before he choked.
"That's it. Suck it down." Krycek grabbed a handful of Mulder's hair and
pulled hard as he came into the American's mouth.
Tears streamed down Mulder's face as he pulled back. He spit Krycek's come
on the floor in the corner, unable to swallow the bitter liquid. He gagged,
then started to choke.
Krycek hit him, knocking him flat on the floor. Staring at the American at
his feet, Krycek decided to make it far worse for him. The Commandant dropped
down, straddling Mulder, reaching out to take his cock into his hand. He was
going to make Mulder participate and enjoy it.
He stroked the limp cock, gripping it warningly when Mulder tried to pull
away. Mulder was horrified to feel himself begin to harden. The nazi couldn't
resist and reached out and pinched one of Mulder's nipples. Mulder couldn't
prevent a cry of unwilling pleasure from escaping him.
Krycek leaned down, taking Mulder's erection in his mouth. He loved to do
this.
I can't do this, I can't do this. Mulder thought to himself. But it
feels so good.
Krycek swirled his tongue over the head, gaining another moan from Mulder
who arched up into his mouth. He barely prevented himself from begging for
more. Mulder was caught between the pleasure of and the disgust of Krycek
sucking his cock.
Krycek was hard again by now, aroused by the sight of the beautiful American
writhing under him. He wanted to put that hardness to good use, but he wanted
Mulder willing. Taking two fingers, he sucked on them for a minute, coating
them with saliva. Reaching down, he inserted one, then another into Mulder's
tight opening, stretching him quickly.
Mulder bit his lip and held still, using all his strength not to thrust
those fingers deeper into him. Suddenly, he was on all fours, and the Nazi was
quickly entering him, stretching him farther and farther apart. Mulder cried
out at the pain, but there was pleasure as well.
Krycek slammed into Mulder, his balls slapping against the American's ass.
And what a sweet ass it was. So tight, so hot. He reached over and took hold of
Mulder's cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts.
Mulder moaned, he could feel that he was going to come. How could he be
enjoying this? This man was his enemy, his captor, his rapist. The thoughts
fell from his mind as his creamy fluid shot out of his cock onto the stained
concrete below. Finally, he couldn't hold back a cry of pleasure.
Krycek grinned in triumph and slammed into him one more time. He let out a
cry of his own as he came deeply into the American's ass. He pulled away from
Mulder, who curled up into a ball of misery on the floor.
Krycek dressed quickly and started to leave the cell. He stopped at the door
to look back at the shivering man.
"I hope you choose not to answer my questions again tomorrow." He laughed to
himself as the door closed again with a loud clang, leaving Mulder to sob
quietly to himself on the floor.
Part I
Fox Mulder was scared. He had never been so scared in his life. Even when
his plane was going down in flames last week, he never thought he would end up
like this. He was naked and chained in a cell at SS Headquarters. No food or
water for three days. No one came to see him or check on him. He was cold and
tired; the chains made it hard for him to sleep.
