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WARNING: THE FOLLOWING STORY CONTAINS SEXUALLY
EXPLICIT MATERIAL. IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY SUCH MATERAL, THEN DON'T READ
FURTHER.
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THE FURTHER
ADVENTURES
OF
SPECIAL AGENT
DANA SCULLY
BY
Peril Master
"PARADISE
PERILS"
Dana Katherine Scully studied her reflection in
the full length body mirror, admiring the way the gown conformed to her body.
She wasn't a tall woman, but was blessed with a gorgeous face, red hair, and
great curves. Every detail of her body was accented. She turned, studying her
ass. She dropped a couple of pounds recently and it showed.
Scully walked out of her bedroom and stepped
into the living room of her apartment. She stared at the clock on the wall.
Where the hell was Mulder? It was five minutes to eight and they were going to
be late. They had been invited to a birthday party for a fellow FBI agent, and
decided to make "a date" out of it.
The party was being held at the mansion of
Robert Marshall, a well-to-do socialite who was a friend of the FBI agent. It
was formal dress and Scully had gone all out tonight. Her glittering black gown
was accompanied by matching gloves and spiked heeled shoes. She had put up her
hair, leaving her sensual neck exposed.
The doorbell rang at exactly 8:05. Scully opened
the door and met Mulder at the entrance. He was dressed in the standard black
tuxedo with a black bow tie. Typical, Scully thought. Men had it easy when it
came to formal wear.
"Mulder, why are you late?" Scully
asked. "We were supposed to be there at eight o'clock."
Mulder shrugged. "Sorry. I was taking a nap
and overslept."
Scully stared at Mulder in disbelief.
"Well, at least you have a good reason." Her sarcasm was subtle but
sharp.
------------------------------------------------------------
Mulder and Scully arrived at the gated estate of
Robert Marshall. They didn't know the man personally but knew about his fortune
and lifestyle. He owned several houses, boats, and had his own private plane.
He made his money the old fashioned way: he inherited it. His father died a
couple of years before, leaving his entire fortune to his only son. How
Marshall's father made his money was still under investigation. Robert Marshall
himself had a questionable reputation. He was an ego maniac and was rumored to
have organized crime connections.
They entered the estate and a valet took their
car. A red carpet led to the entrance of the mansion. Scully wondered why
anyone needed such a big house. The landscaping surrounding the mansion was
immaculate. There wasn't a single imperfection on any of the bushes, trees, or
grass.
A well-dressed man at the entrance took Mulder's
invitation and allowed them to pass. The spacious living room of the mansion
was filled with well dressed socialites. Waiters and waitresses walked around
the room, offering mystery snacks and alcoholic beverages. A band played soft
music from a stage at one end of the room. The room buzzed with excitement and
laughter. A large sign hung over the room which read: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MARTY.
Martin Kimball was the birthday boy. Most of his
FBI friends declined his offer to attend the party because of Robert Marshall's
less than honorable reputation. They were not about to risk their credibility
for some silly birthday party.
Kimball noticed Mulder and Scully enter. They
were two of the few bureau employees who accepted his invitation. Maybe because
their reputations were shot to hell. He couldn't believe Mulder still worked
for the FBI after all the crap he had pulled.
He didn't understand why Scully followed an
idiot like Mulder. He single handedly ruined her once promising career with his
stupid crusade into the paranormal. It was rumored Scully and Mulder were more
than friends. That would explain her devotion and loyalty to that dumb
ass.
Kimball pushed his way through the crowd. He had
a few drinks and felt a slight buzz. He approached Scully. "Hey,
Dana!" Kimball slurred.
Mulder stretched his hand out to Kimball.
"Hey, Marty, happy birth..."
Kimball ignored Mulder and wrapped his arm
around Scully. "You look great, Dana," Kimball blurted. "I'm
glad you could make it." He sniffed her hair. "You smell really good.
What kind of perfume are you wearing?
Scully shrugged. "I couldn't tell you. I
splashed on the first thing I found."
Kimball burst out laughing. "You're so cute
when you're modest."
Scully smelled the alcohol in his breath and
turned away from his heavy breathing. She stared at Mulder, asking for help
with her eyes.
Kimball turned to Mulder. "Why don't you
ditch this loser?" He laughed and faced Scully. "Want a drink?"
"No thank you, Marty," Scully replied.
She continued begging Mulder for help with her eyes.
Mulder read her eyes but decided to have some
fun at her expense "Why don't you two catch up on old times. I'm going to
go...mingle."
Scully shot Mulder her most intense look yet. If
he left her alone with this blubbering idiot she would kill him. Mulder backed
away from her and Kimball. Scully felt a pinch on her ass and uttered a gasp.
Kimball smiled, raising his eyebrows at her.
"I need to freshen up," Scully said,
disengaging herself from Kimball's grasp.
"Need some company?" Kimball offered.
"No thank you," Scully called back,
walking away from Kimball before he could follow her.
Robert Marshall watched Scully walk away from
Kimball. He turned to his two assistants, two large goons, and gave them a
look. The two men took his cue and walked towards Scully.
Scully mingled, drank, and ate. She was unaware
she was being shadowed Marshall's men. The guests were snobs and phony but she
didn't care. She could tolerate them for one evening.
She looked around the room, searching for
Mulder. She spotted him standing near a corner, talking to a big breasted
blonde woman. He was flirting with her. He whispered something into the
blonde's ear. She laughed, giving him a playful shove. A wave of unexplained
jealousy swept over Scully. She needed some air.
Scully stormed out of the house through a side
door. She found herself standing before a large garden. It was full of flowers
and exotic plants. Even in the semi-darkness the beauty of the garden was
breathtaking. A raised wooden path bisected the seemingly endless garden.
Several lights on the grounds illuminated the area, giving it a magical
appearance.
The effect was memorizing and Scully was reeled
in by the splendor of the garden. She walked along the wooden path. The noise
of the party was soon drowned out by chirping crickets and frogs. It was quiet
and peaceful. She forgot about Mulder and the blonde tramp. She took a deep
breath, taking in the smell of flowers and fresh grass.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" a deep voice
said.
Scully gasped and turned. She looked up at a
tall handsome man. It was Robert Marshall. She had been consumed in
sight-seeing and didn't hear him approach.
Marshall noticed her startled look. "I'm
sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you."
"It's all right," Scully replied.
"I was just caught up in the beauty of the place."
"I'll inform my gardener of your
compliment," Marshall said smoothly. "I'm Robert Marshall and I own
all this. Who might you be?"
Scully was surprised by his boldness. "Dana
Scully," she replied. "I'm a friend of Martin Kimball."
Marshall took Scully's hand and kissed it.
"Pleased to meet you, Miss Scully."
Scully blushed. "Please, call me
Dana."
"A lovely name for a lovely woman,"
Marshall said. "So, Dana, why aren't you at the party?"
"I needed some air," Scully replied.
She studied Marshall carefully. He was in his late thirties to early forties
and was ruggedly handsome. She was drawn to his dark blue eyes. "This is
the most beautiful garden I've ever seen."
"Would you like a tour?" Marshall
asked.
Scully turned to the mansion. "What about
the party?"
"I'm sure we won't be missed,"
Marshall replied. "It will only take a few minutes." His voice was
smooth and soothing.
Scully thought about Mulder and the blonde. Two
could play it that way. "I'd like that," she said.
Marshall led Scully deeper into the garden. The
wooden path twisted and turned around trees and plants. He gave Scully more
than enough information about every flower and plant they encountered. Marshall
didn't ask personal questions. Scully found this strange, but refreshing.
She glanced back down the path they had
traveled. The mansion was completely obscured by exotic plants and trees. She
couldn't explain why, but she felt uneasy and uncomfortable. Something was not
right. She stopped walking.
Marshall noticed Scully pause. "Is
something wrong, Dana?"
"I think I should get back to the
party," Scully replied. "I came with someone and he might start to
worry."
"I wouldn't count on it," Marshall
said. His voice was serious and cold.
Scully shifted uncomfortably. "I really
should get back..." She took a step back and stared into Marshall's face.
His eyes were icy and intense. A knot formed in her throat.
"You're not going anywhere, Dana,"
Marshall said flatly.
Scully heard rustling behind her and turned. Two
large men emerged from behind the shrubs aligning the wooden path. She backed
away from the men, but ran into Marshall. One of the men grabbed her, wrapping
a powerful arm around her, pinning her arms against her body. Scully attempted
to scream, but the man clamped his hand over her mouth. She tasted cloth,
smelling something bitter and intoxicating. Chloroform!
Scully squirmed and grunted in the man's arms.
Her desperate eyes darted from Marshall to the man holding her. The second man
stepped in front of her and lifted her legs off the wooden path. They carried
her deeper into the garden. Scully bucked and twisted, but the men held her
tight. Energy drained from her body. The chloroform overcame her. Where the
hell was Mulder? That was her last thought before descending into darkness.
------------------------------------------------------------
Mulder and the big breasted blonde stood before
the large garden where Scully stood a couple of hours before. Mulder had
forgotten about Scully. His present company had something to do with that. He
entertained the blonde with FBI stories. He was in the middle of another story
when a waiter interrupted him.
"Mr. Mulder?"
Mulder turned to the waiter. "That's
me."
"I have a message from Miss Dana
Scully," the waiter said. "She told me to tell you she's not feeling
well and has left. One of our drivers gave her a ride home."
Mulder contemplated the message. Scully probably
had too much alcohol for her own good. This opened the door to other
possibilities. "Thank you," he said to the waiter. He smiled, turning
to the blonde. "Why don't we go back to my place?"
The blonde smiled. "I thought you'd never
ask."
------------------------------------------------------------
Scully heard herself breathing. She was weak and
light-headed. She was also shivering. She remembered Marshall and the two men
grabbing her in the garden. She opened her eyes. Her vision was blurry and she
blinked, adjusting her sight. Where was she? She tried to move but couldn't.
A cloth packing was stuffed deep inside her
mouth. It was soaked with saliva and extremely uncomfortable. There was
something strange about the packing... She was gagged with her own panties!
They were held in place by a tight cleave gag made from her own bra. It was
cinched between her lips and pulled tight.
Her eyes met the light of a light bulb dangling
from the ceiling. She looked down at her body. She was naked and bound, lying
on a cold concrete floor. Her hands were tied behind her back with rough rope.
Several rope lengths circled her upper body, pinning her arms to her torso. The
ropes passed over and under her breasts, framing them. Her knees and ankles
were also tied with the same type of rope. The rope was cinched tight against
her body, cutting into her delicate skin.
She studied her surroundings. She was in a small
bare room with a concrete floor and walls. A closed wooden door was the only
access into the room. She spotted several large wooden crates at one end of the
room. A clothing rack containing dozens of clothing items, mostly women's
clothing, was next to the crates. Several coils of rope and leather bondage
items hung from a wall.
Scully wondered how long she had been out. Why
was she here, wherever here was, and why did Marshall kidnap her? Too many
thoughts and possibilities entered her mind. She postponed her speculations
until she had more information.
She grunted, pulling on the ropes which bound
her wrists. The bindings cinched tighter with each pull, reducing circulation
past her wrists. Her fingers throbbed and felt like thick nobs. The wadded up
panties in her mouth advanced towards the back of her throat, cutting off
precious air.
She was probably somewhere in Marshall's estate,
in a storage cellar of some kind. It was only a matter of time before Mulder
would come looking for her. He wouldn't leave the grounds without her. He would
tear the house down piece by piece until he found her.
Scully was on the verge of choking on the gag.
She retched violently and was about to hurl. She was going to suffocate on her
own vomit. Whoever gagged her neglected to consider the limitations of the
human mouth.
The door of the room creaked opened. Scully
jerked her head towards the entrance of the room. Two men stepped inside. They
were the same men who grabbed her in the garden. They stepped aside, allowing
Robert Marshall to walk into the room. Scully continued retching and hurling
under the gag, pleading with her eyes at Marshall and the two men.
Marshall realized what was happening and
motioned to one of the men. The heavy set man knelt before Scully. He reached
behind her head and worked the knot of the bra loose. He reached inside her
mouth with his finger and pulled out the saliva soaked panties.
Scully retched and coughed, staring at Marshall
with indignation. She was about to speak but Marshall raised his hand,
indicating for her to keep silent. Scully didn't know why but she obeyed.
"Do not speak," Marshall said.
"If you don't remain silent you will be gagged again. Nod your head if you
understand."
The last thing Scully wanted was to taste her
panties again. She nodded. She had a feeling Marshall was about to provide her
with information about her predicament.
"I apologize for this harsh treatment,
Dana, but I can't take any chances." Marshall addressed the heavy set man.
"Prepare Miss Scully for the trip."
Scully's eyes widened. Trip? Where were they
taking her? Where was Mulder? Why hadn't he rescued her? She thought about
asking Marshall why he kidnaped her, but remembered his warning and remained
silent.
The heavy set man reached inside his tuxedo
jacket and pulled out a knife. The man turned Scully on her stomach and sliced
the ropes which bound her torso. He cut her wrists free and then sliced through
her knee and ankle bonds. He stood and stepped back.
"Get on your feet," Marshall said to
Scully.
Scully noticed the second thug standing near the
wooden door. If she attempted an escape she would have to go through him. She
didn't stand a chance. She pushed herself up and stood before Marshall. She was
self conscious of her nudity and crossed her arms over breasts, looking
downward with shame.
Marshall turned to the heavy set man. "You
may proceed."
The heavy-set man grabbed Scully, shoving her
towards the wooden crates at the end of the room. The crates were about four
feet high by three feet wide. They were just large enough to hold... They were
going to put her inside one of the crates! The final confirmation came when she
spotted several small holes drilled into the sides of the crates
"I have chosen you to be part of my private
stable," Marshall said to Scully. "You should be proud and flattered.
I only select the best women in the world for that honor."
Stable? Scully's mind switched into overdrive.
What kid of twisted game was this? Marshall's answer only raised more
questions, but she bit her tongue. She didn't want to risk angering
Marshall.
The man reached inside his jacket and retrieved
a syringe. It was already filled with a type of chemical. The man held Scully
and plunged the needle into her upper arm. The needle pierced her skin with a
sharp sting. Scully fought to free herself from the heavy set man. His touch on
her naked body made her skin crawl with disgust.
Scully squirmed in the goon's arms before the
injected chemical took effect. Her legs weakened and exhaustion overtook her.
Precious energy abandoned her body. She closed her eyes and once again
descended into unconsciousness.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Scully heard herself scream. She awoke from her
forced slumber to find herself stuffed inside a wooden crate. The same wooden
crate she had seen in that room with Marshall and his goons.
There was something else too. She was bound. Her
hands were tied behind her back, not with rope but with metal manacles. She
heard them jiggle when she squirmed in the tight confines of the wooden box.
She could not see her body clearly but felt the
leather against her skin. She was dressed in a leather harness which left her
breasts exposed. She also felt a draft around her crotch. A tight leather
collar around her neck completed the outfit. Her ankles were not bound but
spiked high heel shoes had been placed on her feet.
She wondered where she was and how long she had
slept. Marshall mentioned she was going on a trip. She listened carefully. She
wasn't sure but could swear she heard running water.
She remembered Marshall saying she was going to
be part of his "stable", whatever that meant. She peered though one
of the small air holes drilled into the side of the crate. Her limited vision
offered a view of more wooden crates. She was obviously in a storage room
somewhere far away from Marshall's mansion.
She suddenly lost her cool and began pounding on
the wooden crate "Help me!" she shouted. "Somebody!"
She continued pounding for what seemed like
hours. She finally gave up, exhausted. She was probably far removed from anyone
who might be able to hear her.
Her pounding did not go unnoticed. Two scruffy
crewmen who sneaked down to the cargo bay for the purpose of drinking a bottle
of Scotch heard her screams and pounding. The drunken men emerged from behind a
crate and stared at the wooden box across the room.
"Did you hear that?" the first crewman
asked. He was tall and wire thin. He also needed a shave and a bath.
His bearded companion stared at the wooden box
with glazed eyes. "Someone's in there. It sounds like a woman."
The thin man's face lit up. He tossed away the
empty bottle of Scotch and headed for the wooden crate.
Scully spotted the two men approach through one
of the small air holes. She banged on the crate. "In here!" she
shouted. "Let me out of here!"
The men stood before the crate, staring at each
other. The bearded man peeked inside through the small holes on the side of the
crate. The thin man joined in the peep show. They could not believe their eyes.
Inside the crate was a beautiful red-headed woman. She was dressed in leather
and her breasts were exposed, popping out at them. Inviting them.
Scully suddenly had second thoughts about her
potential rescuers. The prying eyes made her uncomfortable and she recoiled
against the back of the box. She blushed and wished she could cover her naked
breasts.
"Get the crowbar," Scully heard one of
the men say. "Don't worry, honey, we'll get you out of there soon
enough."
Scully waited with apprehension. Who were these
men and what were they doing here? She heard nails pulled from the top of the
crate. The lid of the crate lifted. Two pairs of hands grabbed the top,
discarding it on the deck.
She stared up at the drunken faces of her liberators.
She immediately smelled the alcohol. The two men stared at Scully, amazed at
their find. She realized this was a big mistake. The men studied her body like
starving dogs eyeing a steak.
Her eyes played over her body, examining the
obscene outfit she had been forced to wear. Two leather straps crisscrossed her
chest, leaving her breasts completely exposed. Two straps circled over and
under her breasts, pulling them up, forcing them to protrude from her torso. A
matching leather collar with an attached metal ring was secured around her
neck. The final humiliating article was a pair of crotch less black panties.
The men reached inside the crate and pulled
Scully up and out of the wooden box. They placed her on the deck before them
and stared, slack-jawed. Scully almost stumbled, adjusting to the abnormally
high heels. The thin man's eyes moved between Scully's exposed pussy and her
breasts.
She tried to make the best of the situation.
"Where am I?" Scully asked.
"You're aboard the S.S. Delcine," the
thin man replied.
"A ship," Scully said rhetorically.
The thin man turned to his companion.
"She's a smart one, isn't she?"
"I...I've been kidnaped," Scully
offered. "I'm Special Agent Dana Scully and I work for-"
"Kidnaped?" the thin man said, almost
drooling. "Isn't that a shame."
Scully took a step back from the men. "I'm
a federal agent. I work for the FBI. I was abducted-"
"I bet she belongs to Marshall," the
bearded man said.
"I don't belong to anyone!" Scully
said sharply. "I was kidnaped by Robert Marshall. Please, you have to help
me."
The thin man walked around Scully and stood
behind her, cutting off her retreat. He studied her ass. "Where are you
going, cupcake?" He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off the deck.
"No!" Scully screamed, kicking and
struggling. "Let go of me!"
The bearded man approached Scully. "We know
about Robert Marshall," he said. "We're part of the crew. We work for
him."
"Let me go!" Scully pleaded.
"We know where you're going and what's
going to happen to you," the bearded man hissed. "We know about
Marshall and his unusual tastes. If you behave yourself we can help you."
The man holding her squeezed one of her breasts.
She reacted violently to his touch and screamed. The man removed his hand from
her breast and clamped it over her mouth, silencing her.
The bearded man grabbed a handful of her hair
and stared into her desperate eyes. "You stupid, bitch! Weren't you
listening? We can help you."
Scully stopped struggling and stared at the
bearded man. She took sharp deep breaths through her nose. She trembled, her
eyes expressing pure terror.
"There, that's better," the bearded
man sighed. "Like I said, we know about Robert Marshall and what's going
to happen to you. We can help you escape, but it's going to cost you. What do
you say?"
Scully nodded desperately.
"You have to promise not to scream,"
the bearded man said. "Is that clear?"
Scully nodded.
The thin man removed his hand from her mouth.
Scully gasped and took several deep breaths. She composed herself and addressed
the bearded man. "What do you want?" she asked.
"What can you offer?" the bearded man
asked.
"I'm an FBI agent," Scully replied.
"I'm sure the government can provide you with some kind of reward."
It was the best she could do.
The bearded man stared at Scully. He shook his
head. "I was thinking something along the lines of immediate payment. If
you can provide us with some fine loving-"
"Go to hell!" Scully shouted.
The bearded man grabbed Scully's chin.
"Look, bitch, we don't have to help you. We can have our way with you and
stuff you back inside that box. It just so happens we don't like that sort of
thing. Rape I mean. It's so unnecessary. What's it going to be, red?"
Scully was speechless. She was amazed at the
ridiculous logic of the drunken thug. She didn't know if she could trust these
men but what other choice did she have? Perhaps if she "played" along
she could distract them and find a means of escape.
"What do you want?" Scully asked
meekly.
The two crewmen grinned. The thin man released
Scully and stood in front of her with the bearded man. There was dramatic
pause.
"Get on your knees," the thin man
ordered.
The two men reached for their zippers. She
realized what they wanted her to do and her eyes widened with horror. She
couldn't do that, not to these drunken filthy men. The two men pulled out their
dicks. Scully was surprised at how big they both were. They were not physically
large men but their ten inch rods made up for that. They were not erect yet and
that only amazed her further.
The bearded man stared at Scully. "Let's
go, bitch! Get on your knees and give us a blow job...at the same time."
Scully shook her head. "No...please. I
can't do that. Please don't make-"
"All right, fine," the bearded man
said. "We'll do it the hard way." He took a step towards Scully.
"No!" Scully blurted out. "I'll
do it." She could not believe the words that came out of her mouth.
The bearded man laughed. "Get busy, bitch,
and you better make it good, for your sake."
Scully knelt before the two men, her hands
manacled behind her back. She imagined what Mulder or anyone who knew her would
think if they could see her now. The two pricks were inches from her face. She
fought her disgust and concentrated on the task before her. No one would have
to know about this and besides, her potential survival depended on it.
"Any fucking time, bitch!" the bearded
man said.
Scully took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and
took the bearded man's cock in her mouth. She groaned with disgust when she
tasted the man's dick. There was no turning back now. She slid her full lips
down the shaft, feeling the prick proceed down her throat. Her lips touched the
bearded man's pubic hairs. Her tongue flicked at his balls before pulling
back...slowly. She could not believe she was doing this! Despite her religious
upbringing she had engaged in this particular act before and was not
inexperienced. The bearded man moaned with pleasure.
"Ohhhh," the bearded man gasped.
"That's a good little girl."
Scully pulled her mouth from the bearded man's
cock. A string of saliva stretched from her lips to the head of the man's
prick. She tried to detach herself from this act like she did when performing
an autopsy. This was not as bad as cutting up cadavers. If she could do that,
then she could endure this.
"Now do me, cupcake!" the thin man
said, grabbing Scully by her hair and pulling her towards his stiffening cock.
Without a word of protest Scully swallowed the
thin man's dick, deep throating him like she had done the bearded man. She
worked steadily, her lips making obscene sucking sounds. He pushed deeper into
Scully's mouth, feeling the back of her throat with each thrust.
Scully worked back and forth between the two
men. She sucked cock like she never sucked before. She sucked hard. She sucked
nice and slow. She sucked for all she was worth. At times she felt like gagging
and vomiting but fought her disgust and continued sucking. After a volley of
intense sucking the bearded man shot his load, filling her mouth with bitter
cum. She was about to spit but the bearded man grabbed her hair.
"Swallow it, bitch!" the man gasped.
She gulped, swallowing the mouthful of thick
slime. She tasted the man's seed slide down her throat and into her belly. She
retched, gagged, and fought from hurling. Both men laughed with sadistic
pleasure.
"What the hell is going on here?"
The two men stopped laughing and turned towards
the sound of the angry voice. Robert Marshall and his two goons stood near the
entrance of the cargo bay. He stared at the two men with loathing and hate. His
eyes betrayed a rising rage that would scared the devil himself. The bearded
man pulled away from Scully and tucked his prick inside his pants.
"Mr. Marshall," the bearded man said in
a shaky voice. "What are you-"
"Silence you filthy dog!" Marshall
shouted.
Marshall and the two goons approached Scully and
the crewmen. The two terrified men backed away. Scully remained silent and hung
her head in shame. Her hopes for rescue were crushed and she had performed a
disgusting and humiliating sex act for nothing.
Marshall stood over Scully and faced the two
men. "She belongs to me," he growled. "You two lowlife pigs have
ruined her for me."
"Mr. Marshall," the thin man said.
"We're sorry. We didn't know she was yours. If we did we-"
"Enough!" Marshall said, stroking
Scully's hair. He addressed his two henchmen. "Throw these two pigs
overboard immediately."
The two goons walked past Marshall and
approached the frightened crewmen. Marshall's men grabbed the two crewmen and
dragged them towards the entrance of the cargo bay. The two men begged and
apologized but Marshall ignored them.
Once the two crewmen were removed from the cargo
bay Marshall turned his attention to Scully. She was still on her knees.
"Don't worry, Dana," Marshall said softly. "You can still be
salvaged. All we have to do is perform a cleansing ritual."
Scully couldn't even begin to guess what
Marshall meant by that. She knew that whatever this "ritual" was, it
wasn't going to be pleasant. Thus far she had survived a choking gag, being
stuffed into a crate, and being forced to perform oral sex on two drunken men.
How could things get worse?
After the two goons disposed of the two crewmen
they returned to the cargo bay. A chain was attached to the ring of the collar
around her neck. The heavy-set goon pulled on the chain and led Scully out of
the cargo bay. She didn't resist or protest. She was still in shock about her
encounter with the drunken crewmen.
Scully was led down a narrow corridor and into
Marshall's personal cabin. The cabin had every comfort imaginable from a king
sized bed to a hot tub. Scully knew she was not going to partake of any of
these comforts herself. The heavy-set man led Scully to a long narrow wooden
table at the end of the cabin. It wasn't much higher than three feet off the
carpeted deck.
The heavy-set goon detached the chain from
Scully's collar and pushed her down on the table. He walked to a nearby dresser
and retrieved another pair of manacles, several coils of rope, and a large
dildo attached to some kind of leather harness. Scully almost sighed when she
saw the dildo. Didn't anyone around here believe in "normal" straight
up sex? The thought was absurd and she had no idea where it came from.
The heavy-set man and his friend got to work on
Scully. He secured her ankles with the manacles and laid her on her stomach. He
tied a length of rope between her bound wrists and ankles. He made several
loops between her wrists and ankles and pulled on the rope. Scully's legs
lifted towards her back. Her face contorted with discomfort and a low groan
escaped her lips. It was her first display of emotion since leaving the cargo
bay. The heavy-set man tied off the rope, leaving Scully in a strict hog-tie.
The heavy-set man was not done. He picked up the
dildo attached to the leather harness and moved it towards Scully's face. She
understood what he was going to do. The straps formed a head harness and he was
going to strap it on her head. The large plastic cock was to be inserted into
her mouth. Scully resisted. She closed her mouth and shook her head.
The heavy-set man turned to his companion. No
words were needed. The second goon placed Scully in a tight headlock hold. He
clamped his fingers on her nose, snapping her nostrils shut. Scully could not
breathe through her nose and gasped desperately. She opened her mouth and
sucked in air. The heavy-set man fitted the leather straps around her head and
pushed the large dildo past her lips. She gasped, taking the obscenity into her
mouth.
The heavy-set man plunged the dildo deep into
her mouth until it reached the vicinity of her throat. Scully stared at the
man, pleading for mercy with her eyes. She couldn't believe she was actually
mouthing the huge dildo. Her jaws ached furiously and it was a constant
struggle to keep from choking on the plastic prick.
The goon released Scully's head from the
headlock. The heavy-set man secured the leather straps around Scully's head. He
fastened a buckle behind her head and one under her chin. There was something
else about the dildo. A draft of air entered her throat each time she gasped.
The dildo was hollow. Perhaps it was to keep her from suffocating but she
doubted it.
The goons passed the remaining rope over Scully.
They tied her knees, waist, and torso down to the table. This prevented her
from rolling off the table. Scully could not find a reason for the bondage
over-kill. There was no way she could possibly break free of the manacles or
hog-tie.
Without saying a word the two goons walked out
of the cabin. Scully moaned with pain. She had to concentrate to keep from
gagging on the dildo but had no idea how long she could keep this up. She took
in precious air through the hollow cock and waited for what was to come next.
After almost two hours of waiting, sweating, and
unbearable pain Scully heard the cabin door swing open. Robert Marshall
approached the table where she lay. He was not alone. He led a tall red-headed
woman by a chain attached to a collar around her neck. The woman was dressed
similar to Scully but wasn't bound. She had the build of a model, a flawless
face, and perfect skin.
The woman, whoever she was, did not make eye
contact with Scully or Marshall. Her expression and posture was one of defeat
and submission. Marshall and the tall redhead stood before Scully. He yanked
her chain downward. The woman understood the command and immediately dropped to
her knees before Marshall. He positioned his crotch directly in front of the
tall redhead and clapped his hands.
Scully watched the woman reach for Marshall's
fly. She pulled his cock out of his trousers. Marshall's prick became erect.
The tall redhead massaged and caressed Marshall's prick skillfully, wrapping
her hand around the tube of meat. She gave him a hand job directly in front of
Scully.
Marshall laid back with a smug on his face,
enjoying the sensation. The redhead masturbated him towards his climax. He was
about to cum and pushed the redhead aside, almost toppling her over. He
positioned himself before Scully, grabbing her head with both his hands. He
inserted his prick into the hollow dildo inside her mouth. Scully squirmed and
moaned asMarshall shot his load through the hollow cock and into her throat.
Her eyes expanded with disgust when she tasted the cum in her throat. She
gagged and retched when the bitter seed reached her stomach.
Marshall finished shooting his cum into Scully's
mouth and pulled out of the hollow cock. He slapped her face with his spent
dick. Her cheeks and nose glistened with leftover semen smeared across her
face. She had no reaction to this final humiliation and hung her head.
He replaced his cock back inside his trousers
and picked up the chain attached to the tall redhead's collar. He yanked the
chain and the woman stood. Marshall and the tall redhead exited the cabin.
One hour later Marshall and the tall redhead
returned to the cabin. They again positioned themselves before Scully. This
time the tall red-head laid on the floor and pleasured herself. Marshall
watched. He pulled his cock from his fly and jerked off. Scully knew what was
coming and struggled. The ropes and manacles didn't give a centimeter and she
moaned with dread.
Marshall jerked-off wildly, watching the redhead
finger-fuckin herself on the floor. Scully closed her eyes. She heard the
sickening sound of Marshall's hand rubbing against the skin of his erect prick.
Marshall reached his climax. He closed his eyes
and groaned. He quickly took a step towards Scully and held her head tight with
both hands. He slid his dick into the hollow dildo and shot his load into her
mouth yet again.
Scully tasted the disgusting fluid stream down
her throat. She gagged and retched violently. She came close to vomiting. She
wished she had. After unloading every drop of sperm into Scully's mouth
Marshall retracted his cock with wry satisfaction.
The cleansing ritual continued five more times.
Each time Marshall would come in with the tall red-head and she would perform a
sex act which ranged from masturbating him or herself. Each time Marshall would
ejaculate into the hollow dildo stuffed in Scully's throat.
Scully could not believe how much sperm she had
been forced to swallow. She also couldn't believe how long she had mouthed the
huge dildo. The pain and discomfort was beyond description. Every joint in her
hog-tied body ached. Her face was drenched with sweat as a result of the strain
placed on her lips and limbs. She came close to passing out but the pain in her
mouth prevented her from slipping into unconsciousness. There was nothing she
could do but summon every shred of strength and survive this sadistic torture.
After the final cleansing "session"
Scully was left alone for what she estimated to be an hour. She had no real
sense of time and didn't care. That was the least of her worries.
Marshall returned to the cabin. This time he
didn't have the tall redhead with him but was accompanied by the heavy-set
goon. The goon pushed a cart loaded with silver platters and glasses into the
room.
Marshall walked to the table where Scully was
tied and began removing the harness around her head. "Congratulations,
Dana," Marshall said, "You have been cleansed. You are once again
mine."
He pulled the hollow dildo from Scully's mouth.
She remained silent and greedily sucked in air. Her mouth ached after being
unnaturally forced open for so long. She wasn't sure she could close her jaws
again.
Marshall snapped his fingers at the heavy-set
goon. The thug reached inside his jacket. He pulled out his knife and handed it
to Marshall. He proceeded to cut Scully
free of the ropes holding her down to the table. He released her from the
painful hog-tie and handed the knife to the goon.
Scully stretched her legs, wincing with pain.
She remained on the table, awaiting further instructions. Marshall reattached
the chain to the collar around her neck. He reached into the pocket of his
trousers and retrieved a small key. He unlocked Scully's ankle manacles but
didn't free her wrists.
He pulled on the chain attached to the collar.
"On your feet," he ordered.
Scully contemplated whether to obey or not. She
had barely survived a hellish torture session and couldn't take anymore
punishment. She swung her feet over the table, stepping down on the carpeted
floor. Marshall led her to the food cart in front of the couch and sat down.
The goon stood guard next to him.
"Sit," Marshall said to Scully.
Scully sat next to Marshall. After being stuffed
in a wooden box she welcomed the soft material on her backside. Marshall
removed the covers from the platters. The delicious aroma immediately invaded
her nose. Her hunger had been suppressed by more pressing problems but there
was no denying how hungry and thirsty she was.
Marshall removed a cover from the tray in front
of her. The tray did not contain a plate of food. Instead it contained a dog
dish, filled pasta smoothered in red sauce. The dog dish had her name written
on the outside. Marshall poured some water into a second bowl next to Scully.
"You haven't eaten since the party,"
Marshall said.
He grabbed a napkin and placed it on his lap. He
picked up his fork and ate from his own plate. He took a few bites and noticed
Scully was not eating.
"What's the matter, Dana?" Marshall
asked.
Scully looked down at the bowl of food in front
of her. "Please," she heard herself say. "Untie me and let me
eat like a person."
Marshall wiped his mouth with his napkin.
"But you are not a person. You're my bitch and I'm your Master. Now eat or
I will have you punished."
His comment sent a chill up Scully's back. Marshall
was obviously sick and capable of anything. Scully glanced in the direction of
the heavy-set goon. He waited anxiously for Marshall's orders. His face
remained a mask of stone but Scully could tell he enjoyed inflicting pain on
her. There was no other option. She closed her eyes and leaned towards the bowl
of food. She buried her mouth in the pasta and began to eat...like a dog.
Marshall watched with satisfaction. He was well
on his way to breaking this Special Agent Dana Scully. He had heard about her
toughness and determination but thus far it had been all too easy. He had
broken much tougher bitches before and Dana Scully had hardly resisted. In a
way he was disappointed at her lack of will. That would all change.
------------------------------------------------------------
She ship reached it's destination, an isolated
island, and dropped anchor at a port. Scully was removed from the ship by the
heavy set man, and quickly ushered into the back of a jeep. He drove away from
the port and made his way through a narrow dirt road which led straight through
a dense jungle.
Scully stared out the window and watched the
alien terrain scroll by rapidly. She was awe struck by the beauty of the place.
It was a virtual paradise. The vegetation was dense and the climate was steamy.
She was probably on an island somewhere, halfway around the world, in the
clutches of a madman.
For the first time she pondered the possibility
of never being found and rescued. Her FBI career would be over, and she would
never see Mulder again. She wondered how long he would look for her before
finally giving up. She knew Fox Mulder would never give up. He never gave up on
anything. That fact was her only ray of hope in an otherwise bleak outlook.
The jeep emerged from the dirt road and came
upon a large mansion built on a clearing in the middle of the vast jungle. It
was similar to Marshall's mansion in Washington except this place was
surrounded by a tall chain length fence with concertina barbed wire lining the
top.
The jeep stopped at the gate of the chain length
fence. Two men armed with rifles quickly parted the double doors of the gate.
Scully noticed that the two guards had Polynesian features. That could only
mean she was somewhere in the south pacific. The jeep drove through the opened
gate and continued to the mansion. The interior of the compound was decorated
with water fountains, exotic plants, and stone statues. The jeep stopped on a
paved driveway on the side of the house.
The heavy-set man stepped out of the jeep and
yanked Scully's chain. She was still dressed in the same leather outfit and her
hands were bound behind her back. She staggered out of the jeep, her spiked
heels clicking loudly on the hard pavement. The heavy set goon led her into the
house through a door. The door led down an underground passage lined with
concrete walls.
Scully noticed several closed metal doors
aligning the hallway. Each door had a number on it. She was sure that behind
each door there were probably more women like her who had suffered the same
fate.
The goon stopped outside a door with the number
44 marked on it. He reached inside his pocket and retrieved a key ring. He
inserted the key into the lock and pulled open the door. It squeaked loudly in
the silent hallway.
He shoved Scully inside the room. She stood near
the entrance, taking in the room. She estimated the measurements to be twelve
feet long by six feet wide. The room or cell contained a small hard bed, a
toilet, and a small sink. There were no widows or openings and a bare light
bulb was the only light source.
The heavy-set goon reached for Scully's wrists
and released her from her manacles. He removed the leather outfit by releasing
several buckles behind her. Before Scully could protest the goon pulled her
panties, ripping them off her body. He was methodical in his actions and didn't
show any emotion. He released the chain from her collar and placed it in his
pocket.
Scully's heart pounded with anticipation. What
was going to happen next? The goon didn't say another word and walked out of
the cell with the leather outfit. The door was closed and Scully heard the goon
replace the lock on the door. She exhaled with relief.
She sat on the bed and proceed to remove her
shoes. She discarded the heels on the concrete floor and felt the hard bed. She
laid down and closed her eyes. She needed sleep. Not because she was tired, but
because she needed to detach herself from this ordeal any way she could.
------------------------------------------------------------
Scully didn't sleep long. The metal door of the
cell squeaked opened. She sat up on the bed, ready for anything. The heavy-set
goon entered. He was accompanied by another man. She had never seen the man
before. He was a thin and short Polynesian man with shifty eyes. His eyes
played over Scully's body with cool appraisal.
"Welcome, Dana," the Polynesian said.
His voice was flat and free of any accent. "My name is Tang and I'm
responsible for you. I am the stable overseer."
Scully almost sighed when she heard the word
"stable". She wished someone would explain what that meant, and what
she was doing here. What was the point of keeping her in the dark?
"You're wondering why you're here, aren't
you?" Tang smiled. "It's very simple, Dana."
Scully bit her lip. If this man called her Dana
one more time she was going to go for his throat. She disliked being addressed
by her first name by people she didn't know.
Tang continued. "You are here to fulfill
male fantasies. Any and all fantasies. This place...this island exists to
provide forbidden pleasures and entertainment to any man or woman who can meet
the price. You are to submit to any of their desires. You are to perform anything
asked of you. If you cooperate you will be treated well and rewarded. If you
don't cooperate you will be punished. It's as simple as that, Dana."
Tang and the heavy-set goon turned and walked
out of the cell. The big mystery was now solved. Fortunately she was barren and
couldn't get... What the hell was she thinking? There was no way she was going
to allow herself to be used in that way, not without a fight. She vowed to
escape and if needed...to resist.
Scully waited in her cell for several more
hours. She slept on and off but never more than an hour at a time. Eventually
the light bulb in the ceiling was turned off, leaving her in total darkness.
She guessed that was the signal to turn in. She didn't know long it was before
the light bulb was switched on again.
The door of the cell squeaked opened. Tang and
the heavy-set goon entered. Tang carried the long chain used to attach it to
her collar. Scully recoiled in the bed as Tang approached her. She covered her
bare breasts and drew her legs towards her.
"Good morning, Dana," Tang said.
"Your first day of serving Master Marshall has arrived."
Tang attached the chain to the collar around
Scully's neck. He pulled on the chain, jerking her head forward. She rolled off
the bed and stood. He led Scully out of the cell and down the narrow hallway of
the "dungeon". She was led up a flight of stairs through another
locked door.
They emerged in a huge living room with a marble
floor. Scully felt the cold floor on her bare feet and shivered. The decor of
the mansion was luxurious but tacky. There were too many decorations. The
walls, curtains, and carpeting were all either red or blue. She was escorted
into a bedroom on the first floor. Tang led Scully into the bathroom.
"You bathe now," Tang said. "The
Master likes his servants clean."
Scully was ushered into a shower surrounded by
semi-opaque glass. Tang removed her collar and closed the door of the shower.
Scully stood under the shower head. There was no sense in wasting an
opportunity to be clean. She didn't know how many hot showers she was going to
get and wasn't about to squander the offer...or order.
"You have five minutes to shower,"
Tang said. "When you finish you come out to the room."
Tang and the heavy-set goon walked out of the
bathroom. Scully was thankful for the grant of privacy. She showered quickly
and stepped out of the steaming confines of the semi-opaque glass. She found a
small towel and wrapped it around her body. It was token coverage but it was
better than nothing.
She returned to the bedroom as instructed. Tang
and the heavy-set goon waited for her. She spotted a black and white costume on
the bed. It was a French maid's outfit. It wasn't an actual maid's outfit but
something found at a fetish store. She noticed the extremely short skirt and
spotted two holes cut out where the breasts were supposed to be. A skimpy lace
apron completed the ensemble.
"Put that on," Tang said firmly.
Scully winced at the thought of wearing the
ridiculous costume. Of course she had no choice or say in the matter. There was
no telling what these men would do if she failed to obey. She dropped her towel
and reached for the outfit. She slipped the dress over her head and pulled it
down her body. Her breasts popped out through the holes cut into the chest. Her
cheeks burned with embarrassment but she continued, pulling the ruffled skirt
past her hips. The skirt barely covered her ass and crotch. She couldn't
stretch or bend without exposing herself.
A pair of black thigh-high lace stockings came
with the costume and Scully sat on the edge of the bed to slip them on. She had
never dressed in front of two men before and was surprised that it hardly
bothered her. They watched with interest as she pulled the stockings up and
adjusted them around her thighs. She slipped into a pair of high heel shoes and
stood from the bed.
Tang and the heavy set goon escorted Scully out
of the room and into a large kitchen. Three Polynesian cooks prepared food and
didn't pay Scully or Tang any attention.
"You are to serve breakfast to the
master," Tang said. "You must address him as ‘Master'. Anything else
is unacceptable and he will punish you."
Scully was handed a silver tray loaded with
coffee and various breakfast items. She struggled in keeping the tray balanced.
She was led out of the kitchen and marched up a flight of stairs. She almost
stumbled but managed not to drop the tray.
Tang and Scully stood on the second floor,
outside a closed door. He knocked on the door. "Breakfast is ready,
Master," he called out.
"Come in," Marshall said behind the
closed door.
Tang parted the door and motioned Scully inside
the room. She took a few steps into the room and stopped near the entrance.
Marshall stood next to an opened window, dressed in a robe, staring at the
island jungle. He didn't turn to face Scully or Tang.
"Leave us," Marshall said.
"Yes, Master," Tang said, bowing. He
walked out of the room and closed the door.
Scully looked around Marshall's bedroom. The
tacky room resembled a small studio apartment rather than a bedroom. It
contained a small bar, a table with chairs, and a living room set. She stood
near the entrance, not knowing what to do next.
"Set my breakfast on the table,"
Marshall ordered.
Scully walked to the table and placed the tray
down on it. Marshall approached the table and pulled out a chair. He sat and
placed a napkin on his lap, paying little attention to Scully.
"Coffee," he said.
Scully picked up a silver coffee pot and poured
coffee into a cup. She lost her concentration momentarily and the liquid
overflowed on the saucer. She stopped pouring but it was too late.
Marshall stopped eating. He stared at the
spilled coffee. He looked up, glaring at Scully. She drew back, not knowing
wether to apologize or remain silent. Marshall removed the napkin from his lap
and threw it on the table.
"I'm sorry," Scully began. "I
was..."
"Silence!" Marshall said sharply.
"I am not a harsh man, but I demand perfection."
Marshall approached Scully. He grabbed the back
of her neck with his powerful hand, forcing her towards his chair.
"No, please!" Scully pleaded.
Marshall sat on the chair. He forced Scully down
on her stomach over his lap. She kicked and squirmed but he held her down with
a forearm. He lifted the french maid skirt up, exposing her bare ass. He
smacked her hard across her buttocks with his bare hand. Scully immediately
felt her buttocks burn with pain. Marshall smacked her again. The bedroom
echoed with the pop of his hand meeting her soft ivory flesh. She winced with
pain but didn't cry out.
Marshall spanked her ass a dozen times. Scully
closed her eyes, gasping with each slap. Her butt cheeks turned red, a contrast
to her milky white thighs. Hot tears of pain escaped her eyes. Marshall was
relentless and continued spanking her. He was on his eighteenth slap when
Scully finally cried out for mercy.
"Please, stop!" she begged, crying.
"What do yo say, Dana?" Marshall
asked.
"I'm sorry!" Scully cried out.
"Please...stop!"
"Wrong answer, Dana."
Marshall spanked Scully again, harder. Scully
sobbed. The pain in her ass was unbarable. She couldn't take any more. She
kicked and writhed in Marshall's lap but he held her down effortlessly.
"I'm sorry...Master!" Scully shouted.
"Please stop, Master!"
Marshall was about to bring his hand down on her
ass again but suddenly stopped. He released his hold on her, pulling her skirt
down over her burning backside. He pulled her up to a standing position before
him.
He looked up at her. "You see what happens
when you do naughty things, Dana?" His tone was taunting and playful.
"Now then, it's time for you to service me. I'm horny as hell."
Scully's heart took a dive. She knew it was only
a matter of time before Marshall demanded that from her. She had been in denial
until now. She shook her head, backing away from him.
Marshall held his ground. "Come here,"
he said in a calm but firm voice.
"Please...not that," Scully begged.
Marshall lost his patience and approached
Scully. He shoved her towards the table, positioning himself behind her as she
fought and screamed. He forced her down on the table, pinning her arms together
in front of her with a powerful hand. She was completely immobilized by him and
could only utter sounds of protest.
Marshall forced her legs apart, yanking the
skirt over her ass. He had given her a taste of his hand and now he was going
to give her a taste of his cock. He opened his robe. He was naked underneath
and his prick was already hard and ready.
Scully felt the huge cock probe her backside.
She couldn't do anything but brace herself for what was to come. Marshall
pushed through her sphincter, invading her tight asshole. Scully gasped and
moaned as he rammed his entire cock inside her. She experienced excruciating
pain as his oversized dick forced her tight passage open beyond its limit.
Marshall worked steadily, pumping hard into
Scully's ass from different angles. She moaned with each painful stroke,
shaking her head in protest. At first her groans excited him, but he eventually
tired of hearing her.
He spotted an apple in a fruit bowl, which had
accompanied his breakfast, and quickly grabbed it. He brought the apple to her
lips, forcing most of the fruit into her mouth. The apple muffled her moans and
Marshall resumed his anal assault.
Scully's breasts and face rubbed back and forth
on the cold wooden table as Marshall slammed into her. She grasped the edge of
the table with both hands and lifted her ass slightly. This minor adjustment
allowed Marshall to shove his cock deeper into her bowels. Scully bit into the
apple stuffed in her mouth. Her ass burned and tears streamed down her
cheeks.
Marshall increased his violent pumping, nearing
his climax. He closed his eyes, gasped, and shot his load inside Scully. She
felt the wetness inside her ass and uttered a final cry of indignation. Some of
the cum escaped out of her ass and streamed down her thigh. He collapsed over
her, panting and gasping after his all out assault. Scully remained sprawled on
the table, sobbing and gasping for breath.
Marshall pulled away from her and tied the belt
of the robe around his waist. His face reflected satisfaction and triumph. He
stared at Scully's ass. It was still red from the spanking he had administered.
One hole down and two to go, he thought.
Scully was taken from Marshall's bedroom and
returned to her cell. She laid on the hard bed, curled up in a fetal position,
and immediately fell asleep. Sleep was her only refuge in the nightmare she was
living. She was a strong woman and had always been in control but now here she
was, unable to resist or fight.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Scully was awaken from her slumber by Tang and
the heavy-set goon. She was again taken to the kitchen and given a silver tray.
This time she was to serve Marshall his lunch. Tang marched her up the stairs
and knocked on Marshall's bedroom door. She recalled what had taken place
inside the room and trembled.
"Come in," came Marshall's response.
Tang opened the door but didn't go in himself.
He motioned Scully inside. She stared at him, pleading with her eyes. Tang
ignored her silent plea and shoved her inside the room. She almost stumbled but
kept her balance. Tang closed the bedroom, leaving her alone with Marshall.
Marshall was casually dressed, wearing dark
sunglasses. He stared outside the window, lost in thought. He finally turned to
Scully. "What do you say, Dana?"
Scully recalled the punishment her buttocks
absorbed from Marshall's hand. She didn't want a repeat performance.
"Lunch is ready, Master," she said softly.
Marshall smiled. "You learn fast. That's
why I like you academic types."
He made his way to the table and sat down. It
was the same table where he violated Scully a few hours before and he took
sadistic pleasure in that. He looked over the table proudly.
"I'll have my lunch now," Marshall
said, removing his sunglasses.
Scully served Marshall lunch, making sure she
did everything perfectly. She didn't spill a drop of wine or a crumb of food.
Marshall ate with gusto as Scully stood nearby. She hadn't eaten since leaving
the ship and watched with envy as Marshall stuffed his mouth with poached
salmon.
Marshall finished and wiped his mouth.
"I'll have my coffee now," he ordered.
She poured Marshall a cup of coffee. He stared
at Scully. He concentrated on her breasts, popping out through the two openings
in the top of the maid's outfit. They jiggled ever so slightly. That was enough
to arouse him. He placed his hand on Scully's thigh and slid it under her
skirt.
"The hell with the coffee," he said.
"I think I'll have my dessert now."
Scully gasped with dread. She placed the coffee
pot down and backed away, shaking her head. Marshall stood and grabbed her
wrist. He dragged her to the king size bed and threw her down on the soft
mattress. Her breath came in short spurts and panic overtook her. Marshall
removed his shirt and pulled off his pants. She rolled off the bed, attempting
a desperate dash towards the bedroom door.
Marshall blocked her path. He encircled her
waist, pulling her down on the bed. He pounced on her as she screamed and
fought. He pinned her down, gathering her wrists over her head with his
powerful hand.
His mouth went down to her breasts. He licked
and sucked them hungrily. Scully felt his warm mouth and tongue on her tits.
Her nipples became erect and she moaned softly. It was an involuntary reaction
to his touch and she despised the source of the pleasure.
His free hand probed her crotch and he inserted
a finger into her pussy. He stroked her with a steady rhythm, stimulating her.
She gasped and moaned. His touch could have been her own. She was familiar with
her body through countless self induced pleasure sessions.
Marshall removed his hand from Scully's pussy
and grabbed his cock. He positioned it before her cunt. She thrashed about,
arching and bending her body in a final act of resistance. It was all in vain.
Marshall rammed his cock inside her. Scully uttered a shuddering gasp, closed
her eyes, and moaned.
He released his hold on her wrists and reached
down with both hands. He placed her legs on either side of his shoulders and
slid his cock in and out of her. His strokes were slow at first but he
eventually increased his pace. Scully screamed and fought but it did little to
slow him down. Her resistance urged him on and the fucking became more intense
and violent.
She stopped fighting and instead concentrated on
survival. Her hands went out on either side of her, groping handfuls of satin
sheet in each hand. Her worst fear surfaced. It was inevitable but there was no
denying it. She fought against the pleasure sensations building within her
body. She couldn't cum. She wouldn't cum. She would not give this sadistic
animal that satisfaction.
Her body, however, had a mind of its own. It was
suddenly possessed with the greatest pleasure known to man. This pleasure
clouded her mind and broke down all barriers of resistance. She found herself
grinding her hips into him. She was leading him, guiding him towards her
maximum pleasure. Scully's moans and gasps intertwined with Marshall's own
cries of pleasure. They were now one, working together towards the ultimate
climax. Marshall's cock swelled and jerked inside her belly.
Scully felt herself cum. She was cumming harder
than she had ever cum in her life. Her climax was heaven on earth. "Ohhhh,
God!" she screamed.
Marshall groaned as his hot cum spurted into
Scully, filling her belly. Some of the cum oozed out of her cunt and streamed
down her asshole. He kept shooting his cum into her, groaning and thrusting
until he collapsed on top of her. He caught his breath and recovered. Two holes
down and one to go, he thought.
------------------------------------------------------------
Scully was returned to her cell, still dressed
in the French maid outfit. This time she didn't sleep but wallowed in utter
despair. Hopelessness overtook her. Where was Mulder? Why hadn't he come and
rescued her? She had to accept the fact that there was going to be no rescue,
not from Mulder or anyone else. If she was going to find a way out of this
nightmare she had to do it herself.
Several hours later Scully was again visited by
Tang and the heavy-set goon. She was taken to the same kitchen and handed
Marshall's dinner. Of course Scully knew she was going to do more than just
serve Marshall his dinner.
Tang led her up the same stairs towards
Marshall's bedroom. This time Scully studied the interior of the house, noting
the location and destination of each hallway. She noted the house was scarcely
staffed. Thus far she had only seen the heavy-set goon, Tang, and the
Polynesian cooks. This was definitely to her advantage.
Tang knocked on Marshall's bedroom door. Scully
wondered if he ever left the confines of the room. Maybe he liked his privacy
when raping women, she thought bitterly. She still would not accept what she
had done-what her body had done-in Marshall's bedroom. She felt shame and anger
that he was the source of her first and only orgasm. That honor should have
belonged to her partner.
"Come in," came Marshall's reply.
Tang opened the door but didn't go in himself.
He motioned Scully inside. She knew there was no point in stalling and walked
into the bedroom. She heard the door close behind her. Marshall sat in the
couch, dressed in a silk robe. He held a drink in his hand and gulped down the
remaining whiskey. He avoided eye contact with Scully.
"Put that down and come here,"
Marshall ordered.
Her heart rate increased and her legs weakened.
Marshall's voice was enough to produce terror within her. She placed the silver
tray on the table and hesitated. She glanced outside the opened window. It was
late evening and the sun was setting among a gorgeous golden sunset. She found
the beautiful scene ironic in comparison with her impeding plight.
She approached Marshall on the couch and stood
before him. She was visibly shaking but her face was a mask of defiance.
Marshall's eyes played over her body, focusing on her face. She didn't meet his
gaze. This amused him and he uttered a soft chuckle.
"The time has come for you to earn your
stripes, Dana," Marshall said. "This is your last test before you
start servicing customers. You're going to give me a blow job and you're going
to make it the greatest blow job in your life. Otherwise I will punish
you."
There was a short uncomfortable silence.
"What do you say, Dana?" Marshall
asked.
"Yes, Master," Scully replied softly.
Marshall nodded and laid back on the couch. He
untied the belt of his robe and parted the silky material. He was naked
underneath and his huge cock hung limply to one side. He spread his legs to
allow Scully to kneel before him.
She spotted the coffee table next to her. A
bookcase on the coffee table caught her eye. It wasn't a traditional bookcase
but rather two brick-sized pieces of black jade with books sandwiched between
them.
"I'm waiting, Dana," Marshall said
flatly. "I do not like to wait."
Scully contemplated her escape scenario. It all
hinged on her distracting Marshall. There was one sure way to accomplish that.
She summoned every shred of courage or bravado and knelt between his legs. She
stared at his cock. It had provided her with unwanted pleasure and now it was
going to be a factor in her escape plan.
"Suck it, Dana," Marshall hissed. His
cock became erect. "Suck it like I know you can."
Scully winced with disgust. Her survival
instinct overrode all feelings of dignity, pride, and resistance. She took his
cock in her hand, cupping his balls. She plunged her head in his crotch,
licking the underside of his balls. Marshall let out a soft moan. Scully rested
his balls on her wet tongue and licked upward to the tip of his prick. She
repeated this several times, forcing him to gasp and moan each time.
She slid his cock into her mouth, sliding her
moistened tongue over the head, closing her lips around the shaft. She
positioned her head directly over his cock and took him all the way inside,
deep throating him. She fought the urge to gag and continued until her lips
touched his pubic hair. She stimulated the underbelly of his prick, worshiping
his cock with her tongue.
Marshall thrust his hips, moving his cock in and
out of her, fucking her mouth. Scully sucked him lollipop style. She moved up
and down his shaft in a circle motion, his cock slipping into different places
in her mouth. She flicked his prick gently with her teeth.
Marshall closed his eyes and reached for
Scully's head. He ran his hands through her hair while at the same time keeping
her down on his member, preventing her from stopping or pulling away.
Scully felt the head of his cock swell and knew
he was about to cum. He thrust his hips forward, relishing the greatest blow
job he had ever had. He suddenly shot his hot cum into her waiting mouth.
Scully had Marshall exactly where she wanted
him. She pulled her mouth from his prick and lunged towards the coffee table
behind her. She grabbed one of the brick-sized pieces of jade which comprised
the bookends. Marshall felt Scully's mouth disengage from his cock and opened
his eyes.
In one fluid motion she raised the block of
jade, bringing it down towards Marshall's head. His eyes widened with complete
surprise. The block of jade smashed into his temple. The impact snapped his
head sideways with a violent cracking sound.
Marshall fell on the couch. His body jerked
wildly and he was in a semi-conscious state. Scully's adrenaline took over. She
pounded his head three more times with the jade brick. The third blow split his
head open and blood oozed down the side of his head.
He was completely out, perhaps even dead. Scully
didn't care. She turned away and spat out the cum she had stored in the side of
her mouth. She retched and gagged, spitting until she was free of the bitter
taste.
She recovered and stared at Marshall. She hoped
he was dead, but couldn't bring herself to finish him. She tossed the jade
brick down to the floor and stood. Her only priority now was finding a way out
of here. She ran to the opened window. She was at least two stories up and
there was no way down. If she was going to find a way out it was going to be
through the house itself.
Scully made her way to the door of the bedroom.
She hesitated. What if Tang or one of Marshall's goons was standing guard
outside? She had no other avenue of escape. She took a deep breath and turned
the doorknob slowly. She peered outside through the small opening. She sighed
with relief, finding the hallway empty.
She stepped into the hallway, closing the door
behind her. She controlled her beating heart and ran towards the stairs.
Despite her high heels she descended the stairs quickly. She stood in the huge
living room of the mansion, not knowing what to do next. She made her way down
a narrow hallway, her heels clicking loudly on the marble floor. She didn't
have time to remove her shoes and instead increased her pace.
She reached the end of the hallway and turned
towards a small lobby with a closed door. She spotted a window next to the door
and saw the compound grounds outside. She reached the door and turned the
doorknob. To her wild relief the door opened. She glanced back at the empty
hallway and stepped through the opened door.
She had done it! She was outside the house. She
ducked behind a large shrub next to the house. She looked about the compound
and spotted the tall wire fence surrounding the grounds. There was no way she
would be able to climb over the fence, not with barbed wire lining the top.
She stalked through the grounds, ducking and
taking cover behind shrubs, water fountains, and trees. It was dark outside and
she used the darkness as cover. She made her way to the front of the mansion
and hid behind a row of shrubs aligning a cement path leading to the front of
the main house.
She spotted a jeep parked at the foot of the
cement path near the wire fence entrance. Her mind raced with possibilities.
She crept towards the deserted vehicle.
Scully reached the rough terrain jeep with large
thick tires. She hid behind the jeep and contemplated her next move. She
suddenly heard voices coming from the front of the mansion. She turned to the
house and spotted several men emerge through the front door of the house.
She grabbed the door handle of the jeep and
pulled the door open. She immediately climbed inside, closing the door as
softly as possible. She crawled to the back of the jeep. Several suitcases and
boxes were stuffed in the back but there was enough room for her. She took
cover against the back seat, impaling her body against cold leather.
She held her breath and waited. Her heart was
about to burst through her chest. She tried to control her erratic breathing.
There was nothing to do now but pray she wouldn't be discovered. She heard
approaching footsteps and voices. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for
anything.
"Did you have a good time, sir?" the
driver of the jeep asked. He opened the passenger side door for an overweight
middle age man dressed in a suit.
"Yes, I did. Thank you." the
overweight man replied.
The light inside the jeep came on but neither
the man nor the driver bothered to glace towards the back. The overweight man
stepped into the jeep and sat in the front seat. The driver got inside the jeep
and started the engine. He switched on the headlights and drove towards the
compound gate.
The two guards outside the compound opened the
gate and stepped aside, allowing the jeep to pass. The jeep cleared the gate
and continued down the road, away from the fenced in mansion. Darkness
blanketed the surrounding terrain. The only sign of activity was the headlights
of the jeep and the dust it left in its wake.
Scully waited anxiously in the back of the jeep.
She literally held her breath, contemplating her next move. She was sure the
jeep was headed towards the docks. That was probably the only way off the
island.
The drive continued in silence for another
fifteen minutes. The two way radio in the jeep suddenly came to life.
"Transport one, this is home base. Over," a crisp voice said.
The driver grabbed the hand-sized receiver and
placed it to his lips. "This is transport one. Over."
"Be advised that we have a lost
sheep," came the response. "Check your cargo and report back.
Over."
"Copy," the driver replied. "Over
and out."
Scully listened to the exchange. Her body filled
with terror and anticipation. A chill went up her spine. She was finished. She
vowed not to go down without a fight. If ever her FBI training was going to pay
off it was going to be here.
The driver pulled the jeep over on the side of
the road.
The overweight man was not pleased. "What
is this nonsense?" he asked impatiently. "I have to be in Washington
by tomorrow evening."
"I'm sorry, senator," the driver
replied. "But this won't take long."
The driver opened the door and stepped out of
the jeep. The light inside the vehicle came on, eliminating the cover of
darkness. The driver made his way to the back of the jeep. He spotted the
redheaded woman lying on the floor of the jeep through the tainted window.
He opened the cargo door at the back of the
jeep. Scully was ready for him and greeted him with a swift kick to his groin,
burring her spiked heel into his balls. The driver groaned and doubled over,
clutching his groin. Scully rolled out of the jeep and dashed past the driver.
He was in no condition to give chase, and watched her disappear into the dark
jungle.
The overweight man looked on in shock.
Scully ran through the dense brush of the
jungle. She didn't know or care where she was going. Her only objective was to
flee. She had to get away from Marshall and his thugs. Her high heel shoes were
not made for running and she stumbled. She landed on her stomach, sprawled on
the damp ground. She caught her breath, picked herself up, and resumed her
desperate escape bid.
She continued running until she collapsed
against a tree, exhausted and panting. She looked about the dark jungle. It was
a alive with alien and menacing sounds. The enormity of the situation struck
Scully like a bucket of ice water. She was lost in a dense jungle without food,
water, or shelter. It was only a matter of time before Marshall and his goons
came after her. She had to keep moving.
She gathered her strength and continued moving
until she collapsed against a large tree. She was too tired to continue. Her
legs began to cramp and ache. She huddled against the thick trunk of the tree
and closed her eyes. She was too exhausted to think or plan. She descended into
a much needed sleep. Perhaps things would be better come morning time.
------------------------------------------------------------
Scully felt something rough and hard on her
shoulder. Whatever it was, it was disturbing her sleep. She stirred, opening
her eyes. A large heavy boot brushed against her soft skin. Her body snapped to
attention and she looked up at the origin of the boot. Her eyes widened and her
face turned white with fear when she saw the heavy-set goon standing over her.
He was not alone. Tang stood next to the goon,
smiling at her. Two more Polynesian men stood next to Tang. All four men
carried rifles and surrounded Scully.
"Good morning, Dana," Tang said.
Scully's immediate instinct was to run. She
dashed from the tree, attempting to slip past the four men. The heavyset goon
stretched his foot out, tripping her. Scully went down, hitting the jungle
ground with her breasts.
Tang barked orders at the two Polynesians in
their native language. They stood over Scully, slinging their rifles across
their backs. They reached down, grabbed her arms, and dragged her to a standing
position before Tang.
Tang shook his head. "I thought you were
smarter than this, Dana. The Master is not pleased. He has a bit of a headache,
and he's on his way here."
The heavy-set goon removed his backpack and
threw it on the ground. He knelt, reaching inside the pack. He retrieved
several coils of rope and a red ball-gag.
Scully winced when she spotted the rope and gag.
There was no need for bondage. It was merely intended to inflict pain and
discomfort on her. She struggled, but the Polynesian men held her tight.
Tang picked up the ball-gag and walked behind
Scully. He held the gag before her mouth. Scully kept her lips closed. He
reached in front of her, pinching her nipple. She gasped with pain. Tang forced
the ball-gag into her mouth and fastened it behind her neck.
The heavyset goon approached Scully. He took her
hands and tied them in front of her, cinching the rope tight. Her fingers
throbbed immediately. The goon stepped back, holding a generous amount of
remaining rope. He looked up at a thick branch that jutted out from the large
tree.
He threw the rope upwards, looping it over the
thick branch. He grabbed the end of the rope and pulled. The Polynesians
released Scully. She was hoisted off the ground by her arms. She dangled
painfully from the end of the rope, struggling; attempting to find a comfort
zone.
Tang barked more orders at the two Polynesians.
The two men pulled out their machetes and scattered into the jungle.
Tang reached up behind Scully, pulling at the
French Maid outfit she wore. He stripped off the costume, leaving her in the
thigh-high stockings and high heels.
The two Polynesians returned with three freshly
cut wooden stakes. They had been sharpened at one end. Using their rifle butts
they drove two of the stakes into the ground on each side of Scully's legs.
Tang took the third stake and drove it into the ground behind Scully.
The heavy-set goon tied the end of the rope to
the stake behind Scully. The two Polynesians picked up two more pieces of rope
and tied them around Scully's ankles. They then tied the rope ends to the
stakes on either side of her, forcing her legs apart.
The four men stood before their bound captive as
she struggled and moaned with discomfort. A strand of drool escaped through the
ball-gag, landing on her bare chest. It was the only reward for her straining.
Tang crossed his arms, staring at Scully.
"I think we deserve a reward for a successful hunt."
The heavyset goon glanced towards Tang.
"Would you like to eat some pussy?"
Tang asked the goon.
The goon of course did not reply. He had yet to
utter a word. He turned towards Scully. His eyes betrayed his answer. He stared
at her opened cunt.
"Go ahead," Tang said. "The
Master won't mind. After what she did to him he'll probably terminate her. This
is your last chance to get a taste. I know you want it."
The heavyset goon's eyes remained fixated on
Scully's cunt. He needed further convincing.
"She likes to have her pussy eaten,"
Tang said. "You can see it in her face. Show her what you can do."
The goon took a step towards Scully, eyeing her
naked squirming body. He was fascinated by the red patch of pubic hair between
her legs.
Scully watched with disgust as the heavyset goon
knelt before her. She was suspended high enough for his mouth to be almost in
line with her crotch.
She shook her head, protesting through the
ball-gag.
The goon placed his rough hands on her inner
thighs. He moved his fingers up, reaching her cunt. He spread her open. He
strained his head, reaching her moist clit. He flicked it with his tongue.
Scully twisted and moaned as the goon's tongue
explored her clit and buried itself in her cunt-hole. Her body tensed and
tingled with unwanted but pleasurable sensations. The goon gorged himself on
her cunt, lapping her juices hungrily. He knew exactly what he was doing.
The goon continued his oral assault, tasting the
juice that flowed from Scully's cunt. He reached up with both hands, taking
hold of her firm breasts. He pinched and squeezed them, hardening her nipples
as he ate her.
Scully could stand it no longer. She grunted and
moaned through the ball-gag. Her body jerked violently, throbbing in orgasm.
She uttered a final gasp and came in the heavy-set goon's face.
------------------------------------------------------------
After the oral rape Tang, the heavy-set goon,
and the Polynesians waited for Marshall. They watched Scully closely,
fascinated by her naked and bound body. They took special pleasure in watching
her squirm.
Rustling sounds came from the jungle. Marshall
and two more Polynesian men emerged from the brush. Marshall's gaze immediately
went to Scully. There was a white patch on his forehead where Scully had struck
him with the jade brick. He smiled with satisfaction.
"Good work, Tang," Marshall said,
approaching Scully.
Scully turned away from Marshall, intimidated by
his sinister grin.
Marshall stood before Scully. "You did not
disappoint me, Dana," he said. "I expected something like this from
you. Martin Kimball said you were a resourceful woman."
Scully's eyes narrowed upon hearing Kimball's
name. He was the one who had told Marshall about her. She vowed to get even
with him if she ever got out of this ordeal alive.
Marshall snapped his fingers at one of the two
Polynesian men who accompanied him. The man reached into his backpack, pulling
out a wooden paddle. It was half an inch thick and two feet long with a handle.
Scully's stomach turned. She knew what her
punishment was going to be. She still remembered Marshall's hand striking her
bare backside. She sobbed, pleading with her eyes.
Marshall took the paddle and walked behind
Scully. He tracked a taunting circle on her ass with the paddle.
"I'm sorry, Dana, but you leave me no
choice," Marshall said.
He measured Scully with the paddle, taking two
practice swings, stopping centimeters from her ass.
Scully closed her eyes, bracing for the pain.
Marshall drew the paddle back, ready to
administer the spanking.
One of the Polynesian men screamed in agony as a
spear flew out of the jungle, piercing his chest. He gazed down at the spear
and fell to the ground.
Marshall and his men froze. Their eyes darted
around the surrounding brush. There was no sign of anyone.
Another spear shot out of the jungle, finding
the back of another Polynesian man. He screamed, falling face first to the
ground.
The remaining men drew their rifles and opened
fire, spraying the jungle with bullets. A hail of spears descended on the men.
A spear found Tang's neck. His eyes bulged with shock as he fell, clutching his
throat. A third Polynesian man was pierced through the head.
A horde of native tribesmen suddenly appeared
from out of the thick brush. They advanced swiftly, surrounding Marshall and
his men. They were armed with more spears and crude knives. Marshall and his
men fired at the attacking natives, immediately killing four.
The natives quickly overwhelmed Marshall and his
men. There were too many of them. The tribesmen jumped on the men, piercing and
stabbing them with their crude spears and knives.
Scully watched in horror as the natives
mutilated the heavyset goon and the remaining Polynesians. They completely
ignored her. Of course she wasn't a threat to them, not in her present
condition.
Four natives overpowered Marshall, wrestling him
to the ground. He was the last remaining man. A native was about to stab
Marshall with his spear but was called off by another tribesman.
The natives parted, allowing the tribesman
access to Marshall. The native was obviously the chief. The paint on his face
was different from the other natives and he was adorned with a bone necklace.
The chief said something to the four tribesmen
holding Marshall down. They responded by lifting Marshall to his feet. They
held his arms behind his back, keeping him covered with sharp spears pointed at
his face. Marshall stood a head taller than any of the natives but he was
vastly outnumbered.
The chief stood before Marshall, eyeing him
curiously. He suddenly recognized him or remembered him. He turned to his
fellow tribe members and uttered something. The natives responded by gasping
and muttering among themselves.
"You fucking savages!" Marshall
shouted. "Unhand me! Do you know who I am? I'm Robert Marshall! I own this
fucking place!"
The chief barked more orders to the natives
holding Marshall. They forced Marshall to his knees. The chief looked down at
the body of one of the Polynesians. He reached down and pulled the machete from
the side of the dead man.
The chief examined the machete carefully,
feeling the sharp blade with his finger. He made a few turns and twists with
the machete, getting comfortable with the weapon. The chief stood over
Marshall, grabbing his hair. He stretched Marshall's neck forward.
"You're all going to pay for this!"
Marshall shouted, struggling. "I'm going to send all you savages to hell!
You're all fucking dead! Dead!"
The surrounding natives took a step back, giving
the chief more room to wield the machete.
Marshall knew what was coming. He accepted his
fate. "It doesn't matter if you're a king or street sweeper," he said
to no one in particular. "Because in the end, everybody dances with the
grim reaper."
The chief raised the machete high over his head.
A hush fell over the natives.
The chief brought the machete down on Marshall's
neck, decapitating him with a swift blow.
Scully gasped, closing her eyes and turning away
from the bloody scene. She heard the natives cheer with approval.
The chief held up Marshall's head, showing it
proudly to the rest of the tribe. He raised the dripping head over him, letting
the blood stain his bare chest. He handed the head to one of the natives and
turned his attention to Scully.
All eyes were suddenly fixated on her writhing
body, suspended from the tree. This was it, Scully thought. They were going to
pierce her helpless body with spears. She closed her eyes and said a silent
prayer. She heard the chief speak. No spears pierced her body. She opened her
eyes cautiously.
Two natives cut the ropes securing her ankles to
the wooden stakes. Another native sliced the rope tied to the stake behind her.
Scully was not prepared for a landing and crashed to the ground, landing on her
side.
She was quickly surrounded by the tribesmen.
Their curious eyes played over every inch of her body. Scully looked up at the
natives. They had probably never seen a naked white woman before, not to
mention a redheaded naked woman with a ball-gag in her mouth.
The chief uttered more orders.
Three natives scattered into the jungle.
Scully studied the natives carefully. They were
all males and wore only minimal clothing consisting of animal skins. They were
short and thin, not muscular but sleek and tight. Their dark bodies and faces
were decorated with paint.
The three natives who had scattered into the
jungle returned. They carried a long wooden pole. It was about seven feet long
and five inches in diameter.
The natives surrounding Scully parted. The long wooden
pole was inserted under her bound wrists. The excess rope was cut and used to
bind her ankles. The other end of the pole was pushed under her tied ankles.
Scully looked on with panic. What were these
savages going to do to her? She was not going to be killed, at least not yet.
Maybe they were going to eat her. She scoffed at the ridiculous thought. She
had watched too many movies.
The natives lifted the pole, placing it over
their shoulders. Scully was suspended from the horizontal wooden pole like a
freshly hunted deer. She was extremely uncomfortable and squirmed, grunting
under the ball-gag. The tribesmen formed a single straight line and marched
through the dense jungle.
Scully glanced sideways, scared and nervous.
This isn't what she had in mind when she escaped from Marshall's compound.
Apparently her misfortune had no limits.
The natives marched through the dense brush
until reaching a village consisting of primitive thatched huts built in a
circle pattern. A large fire burned in the middle of the village.
Semi-naked women and children gathered around
the hunting party. Their attention was squarely on Scully. They stared in awe
and whispered among themselves. The children pointed and laughed at the pale
skin redheaded woman. She was an object of ridicule, a freak. The chief chased
the children away and gave more orders to the two men carrying Scully.
The natives carried Scully towards one of the
primitive huts. They pushed aside a cloth curtain covering the entrance and
stepped inside, placing her down on the dirt floor. They slipped the wooden
pole out from under her wrists and ankles. They walked out of the hut, leaving
her alone.
Scully gazed around the hut. There wasn't a
single object inside. She stared at the curtain covering the entrance. The
cloth was factory made. She immediately concluded that the natives must have
contact with "civilization". Her hopes immediately soared. If she
could somehow communicate with them perhaps she could persuade them to...
The curtain at the entrance parted. Four natives
entered the hut. One of them carried a coconut bowl filled with some kid of
liquid.
Scully backed away from the natives. Four
natives descended on her, pinning her to the ground. A native held her bound
wrists over her head. Another held her bound ankles down. The third native
knelt before Scully and unfastened the ball gag. He removed it and tossed it
aside. He then held her head still.
Scully watched in horror as the native holding
the coconut bowl straddled her torso. She fought but could hardly move a
muscle. The native straddling her raised himself up on his knees, bringing the
coconut bowl towards her mouth.
She closed her lips in defiance. The native
placed his free hand on her throat, squeezing her trachea. He cut off her air
and applied pain. She gasped and coughed, parting her lips. The native poured
the liquid down her mouth. Some of it went down the wrong way and she almost
choked. She coughed violently, rejecting some of the liquid through her nose.
The rest of the liquid streamed down to her
stomach. She had never tasted anything so bitter and stale in her entire life.
Her stomach immediately protested, pushing the substance up. It got as far as
her throat before it went down again, settling in her belly.
The native straddling Scully stood. He said
something to the natives holding her. They released their hold and stood over
her. Scully moaned, writhing on the dirt floor of the hut. She retched and
gagged, attempting to hurl. Her insides were on fire.
The natives turned and walked out of the hut,
leaving Scully alone with her pain.
Scully looked up at the roof of the hut. It
suddenly began spinning. She gazed downward. Everything was swirling, meshing
together like different colors of paint mixing together rapidly.
Her eyes couldn't take any more and she shut
them. She no longer saw the motion but felt it. What was happening to her? What
had she been forced to drink? She opened her eyes one last time. The roof of
the hut continued spinning. She curled up in fetal position, clutching her
burning stomach before passing out.
------------------------------------------------------------
First there was cold. Then there was that same
god-awful taste in her mouth. Scully opened her eyes slowly, gazing at the roof
of the hut. It wasn't spinning anymore but her head still throbbed with a
severe hang-over.
She looked around the empty hut. Her wrists and
ankles were no longer bound, but she was still naked. She sat up, holding her
head in her hands. She groaned, feeling a sharp pain at her temple.
She suddenly heard drumming and chanting coming
from outside the hut. The steady rhythm of the drums attacked her already
sensitive sinuses. She gasped as her head throbbed with protest. She fought the
pain and crawled across the dirt floor towards the entrance of the hut. She
parted the curtain covering the entrance.
She stared wide-eyed at the sight before her. It
was dark outside and the natives were engaged in some type of ritual. A huge
fire burned and crackled in the middle of the village. The male natives danced
and chanted around the fire. The women sat on the ground, beating drums.
Scully studied the scene. There were no guards
outside the hut. This was her chance to escape. She listened. She suddenly
found herself being drawn in by the rhythm of the beating drums. Her hang-over
decreased until it completely disappeared. Her eyes went blank and she was in a
totally relaxed state.
She didn't know why but she crossed her arms
over her breasts. She closed her eyes and began stroking her upper arms. A warm
and giddy sensation engulfed her body. Her hands went down to her breasts. She
gasped and moaned, massaging her tits. Her nipples became hard and erect.
Scully laid back on the dirt floor of the hut.
Her hands explored her body, moving down her flanks. She couldn't stop herself.
She reached the inside of her thighs and stroked. Her body craved her
touch...any touch. She plunged her hand in her cunt, finding her clit. She
stroked and rubbed like a woman possessed. Her other hand returned to her
breast, squeezing and massaging frantically.
She had masturbated before, but never like this.
She removed her wet fingers from her clit and brought them up to her mouth. She
licked and sucked them, tasting her own juices. She couldn't get enough. She
continued stroking her clit. She had to orgasm. Her body needed it, demanded
it.
She gasped and uttered a loud cry as she
climaxed. Her orgasm shot through her body, spreading like wildfire. She went
limp, breathless from the self induced pleasure session. Her thoughts returned
to the liquid she had been forced to swallow. She was probably under the
influence of the substance. That was the only explanation for her sudden
"passion" attack.
The curtain covering the entrance of the hut was
pushed aside again. This time the chief entered. He was accompanied by four
other natives. Three of the natives held burning torches. They positioned
themselves around the hut, completely lighting up the interior of the primitive
structure. The fourth native carried a small drum. He sat on the floor next to
the wall of the hut.
Scully stared up at the chief standing over her.
He was naked except for his bone necklace and "war" paint. Her
attention went directly to his huge member. No wonder he was the chief!
It was fairly obvious what he wanted. Scully
backed away, raising herself to her knees. She attempted to crawl away from
him. The chief did not go after her.
The native with the drum began to pound out a
steady and intense rhythm. Scully froze. She was once again reeled in by the
drumming. She listened as the steady beat possessed her body. All reason and
independent thought abandoned her mind for an instant.
The chief approached her from behind. He
supported himself on his knees, wrapping his arms around her. He pushed her
forward, forcing her face down on the dirt floor. Her ass was now exactly where
he wanted it. Scully didn't resist or fight. She was held captive by the
beating drum.
The chief spread her ass cheeks apart. His thick
cock pressed against her anal opening. He drove his column into her, spreading
her tender insides apart. Scully moaned as a burning sensation filled her body.
The chief speared her with long deep strokes, forcing her to feel every vein
and feature of his rod.
Scully gasped wildly, digging her fingernails
into the dirt floor. She felt the chief's balls slamming against her backside.
He continued pumping into her, disregarding her pain. His hands went under her,
reaching for her breasts. He squeezed and massaged her tits tenderly, a
complete contrast to his brutal anal assault.
Scully let out an anguished cry as the chief's
cock plowed even deeper into her ass. He wanted to impale her until he reached
her throat from behind! The chief held her tight as he increased his violent
pumping. His cock throbbed in her ass. This was followed by a burning wetness.
He grunted as he came, filling her ass with his hot cum. He let out a final
grunt and collapsed over her.
The drumming continued.
The chief pulled out of Scully's ass and backed
away. He rested briefly, regrouping. After about a minute he stood and walked
around Scully, positioning himself in front of her.
Scully raised herself up on her hands and knees,
staring up at the chief. His cock hung only inches from her face. The beating
drum guided her to the next act. She felt sexually charged. The ass-fuck left
her unsatisfied and she wanted more, much more!
She took the chief's balls in her left hand and
his cock in her right hand. She squeezed his cock toward the base, stimulating
him to erection again. She teased him, flicking the head of his cock with her
wet tongue.
She licked his shaft, moving upwards, completely
soaking his cock with saliva. She played with his balls, scraping them gently
with her fingernails. She looked up at the chief. He squirmed with anticipation
and excitement.
Her tongue lingered at the opening in the center
of the cock, exploring the area skillfully. She tasted his pre-cum and it
excited her even more. She took the cock head in her mouth and sucked. The
chief moaned with pleasure, burring his hands in her thick red hair.
She moved her head down the cock, taking most of
it inside her mouth. She slid her lips back to the tip and flicked her tongue
at it. She resumed sucking, moving her hand up and down the saliva covered
shaft.
She moved her right hand down to the base of the
shaft, squeezing it. The chief's prick filled and expanded further. She took
him inside her hot mouth and sucked him again.
The chief displayed amazing restraint and didn't
cum. He pulled out of Scully's mouth. She didn't want to give up the delicious
cock and reached for it desperately. The chief pushed her away. He had other
plans for her.
He pushed Scully down on her back. She stared up
at his cock and realized she wanted it inside her. Her cunt needed to be fucked.
If he didn't hurry she was going to stroke herself again.
The chief got on his knees between her legs. He
bore her down to the dirt floor, pressing his cock against the entrance of her
lubricated cunt. He entered her slowly, making her moan deeply. He quickly
picked up his pace, driving his member into her moist tightness.
Scully gasped, moaning with pain and pleasure as
the chief pumped mercilessly into her. Despite the pain she didn't resist or
fight. She had never been fucked this hard before and it excited her. She had
no desire to struggle. All she cared about was satisfying her sexual hunger.
She wanted to be taken roughly and hard, like she was being taken now.
The chief's face was next to hers, grunting and
snorting like an animal. Scully dug her fingernails into the flesh of his
shoulders, raking his body, drawing blood. She was dizzy with excitement,
filled with animal lust.
The chief reached behind Scully, placing his
hands on her buttocks. He pulled her up until they were in a sitting position
with Scully straddling him. She wrapped her arms around his thin but strong
upper body. She arched back so his cock could penetrate and rise inside her.
She rolled her hips into him, searching desperately for the edge of desire. She
continued moaning, gasping for breath, crying with pleasure until she climaxed.
Her body erupted with the greatest orgasm of her
life. She was experiencing sheer pleasure in the midst of dread and couldn't
get enough. Her body surged, shuddering violently, filling with ecstasy.
The chief came, shooting his load into her. He
filled her completely with his cum,
letting out a final grunt of triumph. He collapsed on top of her, exhausted.
The chief caught his breath and recovered. He
slid out of Scully and walked out of the hut. He was followed by the natives
holding the burning torches and the drum player.
Scully laid on the dirt floor. She was thankful
the release her body received but felt utter disgust, repulsed by the decadent
acts she had performed. She was completely exhausted and rolled on her side.
Her ass and cunt ached from the pounding they had taken. She closed her eyes
and cried herself to sleep.
------------------------------------------------------------
Scully awoke the next day. She didn't know what
time it was, but the sun was shining. She could see the bright light through
the curtain covering the entrance. She didn't get up from the floor until
several hours later when the curtain parted.
A native woman entered. She carried a large leaf
from some type of plant. The leaf was actually a "plate" containing a
large portion of white rice. A coconut bowl filled with water was also placed
on the floor before Scully. The native woman turned and walked out of the hut.
Scully raised herself up before the food. She
considered not eating as an act of defiance. That plan lasted all of five
seconds. She picked up the leaf containing the rice and buried her mouth into
it. She was ravenous, wolfing down mouthfuls of rice.
------------------------------------------------------------
After the much needed meal Scully once again
slept. She was snapped out of her slumber by more chanting and drum beating.
Her body tensed. Not again, she
thought. Her heart pounded in her chest. She sat up, covering her ears in a
desperate attempt to block out the noise.
The inside of the hut was dark again. She had
slept all day and night had fallen. The curtain covering the entrance of the
hut parted. Scully looked up to see a steady stream of male natives pouring
into the hut. She stopped counting when the tenth native cleared the entrance.
Again, three natives carrying burning torches entered. They were followed the
drum player.
The natives were all naked. Despite their small
stature they were all well hung like the chief. Not a one had a member smaller
than eight inches! The native holding the drum sat on the ground and began
drumming.
Scully lost herself in the rhythm of the
drumming yet again. The natives surrounded her. She stared at the roll of cocks
around her, feeling heat between her legs. She looked down at her red pubic
hair, feeling herself getting wet.
She was lifted off the ground and forced on her
knees by a horde of native hands. She offered no resistance whatsoever. Her
mind was blocked by the beating drum.
A native stood before Scully, positioning his
cock directly before her face. She stared at the dark prick. A surge of lust
shot through her body. She looked up at the stoic native and reached for his
cock. She stroked him to erection and placed her lips around the head of the
prick. She cupped his balls, sliding her mouth up and down the full length of
the shaft.
The native fucked her mouth clumsily. He grabbed
her hair and worked his way in and out of her mouth, touching the back of her
throat. He grunted, shooting his load inside her. Scully didn't take her mouth
off his prick and swallowed every drop of his cum. The native withdrew his cock
and stepped aside.
Another native took his place before Scully. She
greedily took his cock in her mouth. The native grabbed her hair, fucking her
throat violently. He suddenly spasm, launching his load towards the back of her
throat. It was too much for Scully to handle and she gagged, pulling away.
A hail of cum squirted her mouth and lips.
Undaunted, she reached up and squeezed the native's cock. Load after load of
hot cum hit her face, neck, and breasts. She scraped the cum from her breasts
with her fingers, licking them clean. She ran her tongue around the edge of her
lips, cleaning the cum that missed her mouth. She wanted it all inside her
belly!
The second native was pushed aside by another
native. The third native grabbed Scully's hair, holding her steady while he
rammed his huge cock into her mouth. He was the biggest one yet and her lips
strained to accommodate his huge member. The native came quickly, completely
filling her mouth with thick cum. Some of the cum escaped, dripping down her
chin. The native pulled out of her mouth and sprayed his remaining cum on her
face.
Scully was completely lost. All she wanted to do
was to suck cock, any and all cocks. She wanted her mouth filled with cum. She
took the fourth native's cock into her mouth, twisting her tongue around his
shaft. She sucked him hard. The native groaned and came immediately. He pulled
out of her mouth, cumming on her waiting tongue and tits.
The fifth native positioned himself before
Scully. His cock was rock hard, ready to cum. She licked the tip, working her
way to his balls. She took his head in her mouth and sucked him. The native
tensed. His cock swelled and he shot his load inside her.
The sixth native stood before Scully. She took
his cock inside her mouth, deep-throating him. She looked up at the native. His
eyes were glazed with pleasure and disbelief. Their eyes locked. She didn't
take her eyes off the native as she sucked him. She worked steadily on him
until he shot his load down her throat. She swallowed every drop of his cum.
Scully had never been this aroused in her entire
life. She tried to convince herself that it was the liquid she had consumed,
along with the spell of the beating drum but she began to doubt her
explanation. She could think but she couldn't stop herself.
The seventh native's cock touched her lips. She
opened her mouth, sucking hungrily. She felt re-energized and even more
determined. After a minute of fierce and intense sucking her mouth was filled
with cum yet again.
Scully took cock after cock in her mouth. She
was a cock sucking machine. Her lust was insatiable. Spurt after spurt of hot
salty cum filled her sensuous mouth and throat, swallowing as much as the cum
as possible.
After the last native finished shooting his load
into her mouth there was a momentary pause. A silence fell over the crowded
hut. The native beating the drum did not stop. He continued pounding out the
same rhythm, over and over again.
The natives stood in a circle around Scully.
They raised their arms over their heads and began chanting in unison. They
looked upward, repeating the same chat. They finally stopped and focused their
attention back to Scully. They descended on her again.
A native laid on his back on the dirt floor.
Without being forced, Scully squatted over him. She held his erect prick,
running it along her slit. She lowered herself into it until he was deep inside
her.
Another native stood before Scully, placing his
cock near her mouth. She wrapped her hand around the base of the shaft, guiding
it into her mouth. A third native positioned himself behind her. He stooped
behind her, ramming his cock into her anus. The three natives worked fast and
furiously, pumping into Scully's mouth, cunt, and ass. They quickly established
a frantic but cohesive rhythm. As the native rammed his cock into her ass the
native fucking her cunt would pull out. Muffled moans escaped through the cock
fucking her mouth.
The remaining natives gathered around Scully,
gropping her tits, running their hands along her creamy skin. They all wanted a
piece of her.
The native fucking her mouth came. Scully
swallowed the cum greedily. The native fucking her ass also shot his load into
her bowels. As if on cue the native fucking her cunt filled her with load after
load of cum.
Before the three natives could recover they were
pushed aside by three more waiting tribesmen. They quickly and smoothly took
their place under, behind, and before Scully. A cock was quickly inserted into
her mouth and she resumed sucking. A second prick pushed through her sphincter,
invading her well lubricated ass. The native under her penetrated her cunt.
Scully leaned slightly forward, making it easier for the native behind her to
ram her ass. She deep throated the cock in her mouth and held it there as she
concentrated on the other two pricks filling her.
The fuckfest went on all night. Set after set of
natives fucked Scully's cunt, mouth, and ass. She never resisted or hesitated,
even after being completely exhausted. The beating drum commanded her to
perform and please.
After the last of the natives had their turn,
Scully collapsed to the dirt floor of the hut. The native beating the drum
stopped. She gasped and moaned, covered with sweat and cum. She was completely
and utterly spent. Every inch of her body ached, especially her crotch and
backside. It seemed like she had done every native in the village.
The natives marched out of the hut, leaving
Scully sprawled out on the floor. Now they had to go and thank the gods for the
instrument of pleasure they had delivered to them.
------------------------------------------------------------
Scully awoke sometime the next day. She laid
naked on the floor. Her nudity no longer bothered or concerned her. Her eyes
examined her dirt covered body. She was filthy...in more ways than one. She was
thankful not to have access to a mirror.
She hated being awake. That only meant she had
to think about her grim situation. She couldn't believe how bizarre and surreal
all this was. She was a trained FBI agent, a certified medical professional, a
qualified forensic pathologist, and here she was; being used as a fuck-toy by
south pacific island natives.
She found herself laughing. Her body shook,
further aggravating the physical pain that engulfed her. Her laughter
deteriorated into sobbing. She was delirious. She was descending into madness.
She had to keep her composure. That was the last thing she possessed. She had
lost her dignity, pride, freedom, and hope but she was still Dana Katherine
Scully. She was still someone's daughter and friend. She had to keep fighting.
The curtain covering the entrance fo the hut
parted. Scully was too tired to even flinch. Four native women entered. They
carried metal buckets filled with water. One of the women unwrapped a blanket,
spreading it on the floor next to Scully. The women placed the buckets down and
rolled Scully onto the blanket. She let out a groan as her body protested to
the movement.
Scully was rolled on her back. The native women
resumed to wash her. They used large plant leaves, dipping them in the buckets
of water and then scrubbing her body. They didn't miss a single inch or
crevice.
Scully immediately felt a soothing feeling come
over her aching body. Whatever was in the water not only cleaned her but healed
her. She closed her eyes, feeling the hands of the native women scrubbing and
massaging her body. She was finally receiving pleasure instead of giving it.
The native women finished bathing her and stood. They picked up their buckets
and walked out of the hut.
Scully laid on the blanket. Her body was clean,
glistening erotically. Why had they washed her? Was this a precedent for yet
another sexual encounter. At this point nothing shocked her.
Three male natives entered the hut. Scully sat
up. This was it. They were going to resume using and abusing her. One of the
natives carried a long length of rope. He stood before Scully, motioning her to
rise.
Scully did as instructed and stood. The native
placed a prepared noose over her head and around her neck. Another native
holding a shorter piece of rope approached Scully. He stood behind her, grabbed
her arms, and tied her wrists together behind her back. The third native walked
up to her, holding the ball-gag Tang had used to gag her. The native raised the
ball-gag to her lips. She knew there was no fighting it and opened her mouth.
The native stuffed the gag inside her
mouth and secured it behind her head. The native holding the end of the rope
attached to her neck pulled, jerking her forward. He led Scully towards the
entrance of the hut.
Scully stepped out of the hut. The bright
sunlight blinded her, hurting her eyes. She turned away and blinked several
times, adjusting her vision. She looked around the village. Every native in the
tribe stared at her. She suddenly became self conscious of her nudity.
The native yanked on the rope, pulling Scully
across the village. A party of eight natives gathered around her at the edge of
the village. They lined up in a single file and marched into the jungle.
The natives led Scully through the rough brush
of the jungle. Plants and insects quickly attacked her already ravished body.
She couldn't even scratch or swat away the hungry mosquitos. She had no idea
where they were taking her but knew enough to expect the worse.
The hike through the jungle went on for what
seemed like hours. Scully was exhausted. She could barely breathe through the
ball-gag and her bare feet blistered. She was sweating profusely and was ready
to collapse at any minute.
Scully and the natives finally emerged from the
jungle. They stopped before a clearing. Across a dirt road were four single
story modern houses. Two jeeps were parked outside the houses but there was no
sign of activity.
Scully's heart pounded with anticipation. The
native pulled on the rope tied around her neck. He walked Scully across the
dirt road towards the houses. The other natives remained behind, lurking behind
the bushes.
As the native and Scully approached the nearest
house two scruffy Polynesian men stepped out of the house. They were both
shirtless with sharp knives hanging from their waists. One of the men held a
sawed off shotgun at his side.
The men stared at Scully in awe. She could only
imagine the ridiculous scene she projected. She immediately noticed the men had
the same look as the two crewmen aboard the ship had.
The man holding the shotgun stood several meters
back as the other man and the native met. Scully noticed a long knife scar on
the hideous face of the Polynesian man. The man in turn did not take his tiny
eyes off Scully. He eyed her like a piece of abstract art.
The native and the Polynesian stood three meters
from each other. They quickly established a conversation. Apparently the man
spoke the native's language. The native motioned to Scully as he spoke.
The Polynesian smiled and approached Scully. She
tried to back away, but the native pulled on the rope tied around her neck. The
man nodded approvingly, walking around Scully. He tweaked her breast. She
pulled away as the man laughed.
The Polynesian said something to the native. The
native responded by nodding. The man turned to the Polynesian holding the
shotgun and shouted something. The man with the shotgun retreated back into the
house.
Now Scully understood what was happening. She
was being traded or sold to these two men. Her stomach turned. She had nothing
to look forward to but more rape and humiliation. She didn't care anymore. Why
should she? It didn't do any good.
The second man emerged from the house. He
carried a small tightly wrapped paper package. He walked up to Scully and the
native. He handed the package to the native. The native handed the rope to the
man with the scar. The transaction was complete. The native took his package
and headed back towards the jungle.
The man with the scar pulled Scully along. He
quickly led her into the house as the man with the shotgun followed behind
them. He literally dragged her past the entrance of the house.
Scully was surprised by the contents of the
place. The house was filled with racks of guns, electronic equipment, and
jewelry. It was a glorified version of a pawn shop. She quickly deduced that
these men were pirates and everything in the house was probably stolen.
Two more Polynesian men sat at a table across
the large living room. They were busy packaging a mound of white powder into
plastic bags. Upon seeing Scully enter they ceased working and stood, staring
in awe. They leered at her hungrily.
The Polynesian with the scar pulled Scully
towards a closed door. The man with the shotgun grabbed Scully's arm, holding
her back. The two men faced each other and argued in their native language as
Scully looked on. Apparently there was a disagreement on who should go first.
The two other men quickly joined the argument.
The arguing quickly escalated into shouting and cursing. The men began shoving
each other. Scully took a step back from the mayhem.
There was a knock at the door. The argument came
to an abrupt stop. A silence fell over the room as the men focused their
attention on the door.
The man with the scar motioned to a man with a
bandana on his head. The man with the bandana quickly grabbed Scully, dragging
her away from the door so she wouldn't be visible.
The man with the scar walked to the door. He
said something to his companions. They responded by drawing guns from their
waists. The man with the scar opened the door slightly.
Scully waited anxiously. She tried to break free
from the grasp of the Polynesian but he was too strong. As a precaution the man
clamped his hand over her already ball-gagged mouth. She watched the man with
the scar answer the door.
"Sorry to bother you," Scully heard a
familiar and flat voice say. "I was wondering if...Do you speak
English?"
Scully could hardly believe her ears. It
couldn't be. It wasn't possible. The voice belonged to Fox Mulder, her partner!
At long last he had come for her. He was going to take her away from this
nightmare!
"What you want?" the man with the scar
asked harshly.
"I was wondering if by chance you've seen
a...woman. An American woman?"
The man with the scar shook his head. "No
woman here. You go."
Scully's eyes widened. She suddenly struggled
with all her might. She stomped her heel on the foot of the man holding her.
The man was barefoot and felt the pain stab his foot. He gasped, loosening his
hold on Scully.
Scully struggled free, grunting and mumbling
through the ball-gag. She pushed aside the man at the door. Her desperate eyes
met Mulder's face. He froze, completely shocked by the sight of her.
The man with the scar shoved Scully away and
tried to shut the door. Mulder stopped him and charged through the entrance.
The man with the bandana regained his hold on Scully, pulling her away from the
door.
Mulder stormed inside the house only to find
himself staring at a shot-gun and three handguns. His attention was not on the
weapons but on Scully. He wanted to run to her, but his instincts warned
against it.
Scully stared at Mulder, pleading for help with
her eyes. She was sobbing as the man held her.
"Let her go!" Mulder said.
"She mine now," The man with the scar
said. "I buy her."
"The hell she is!" Mulder shouted.
"She's a federal agent. She works for the United States government."
The man with the scar smiled. "You want
her. You buy."
Mulder knew there was no point in arguing with
three armed men. "How much do you want?" He dug into his pocket
desperately, retrieving a roll of twenty dollar bills. He quickly counted off
five bills and offered them to the man with the scar.
The man shook his head. "Not enough."
Mulder offered the entire roll of bills to the
man. "Here, there's over five hundred American dollars there. It's all
yours."
The man with the scar took the money. "You
still short."
"That's all I have," Mulder said.
He made a move towards Scully, but the three
armed men raised their guns at him, ready to fire if he advanced further.
Mulder stopped, expressing pure frustration.
The man with the scar chuckled. "You like
to gamble?"
Mulder had no idea where this came from.
"What?"
"You like movies?" the man with the
scar asked.
"What kind of bullshit is this?"
Mulder asked.
"You saw ‘The Deer Hunter'?" the man
with the scar asked casually.
Mulder sighed. "What about it?"
"We like movies too," the man with the
scar said. "We like to gamble."
It didn't take Mulder long to figure out what
the man was trying to tell him. Anyone who'd seen "The Deer Hunter"
recalled the Russian roulette scene.
The man with the scar motioned to the table
where the two men had been packaging heroin. "You sit."
Mulder hesitated for a moment. He studied the
faces of the Polynesian men. He was prepared to do anything to save Scully from
them. He had to let this thing play out. He walked to the table and sat on a
squeaky wooden chair.
The three men surrounded him, but the man
holding Scully kept his distance. Mulder stared at the white powder packages on
the table. These men obviously weren't baking a cake, he thought.
The man with the scar reached behind his back.
He pulled out a .38 revolver. Mulder watched the man open the magazine of the
gun and empty the six bullets into his hand. The Polynesian then loaded three
bullets into the chamber of the gun, leaving an empty space between each of the
three bullets. He spun the chamber and snapped it shut. He placed the gun down
on the table before Mulder.
Mulder stared at the revolver. He had been in
this situation before with one Robert Modell. He almost killed Scully and blew
his own brains out in the process. He was damned if he was going to allow this
to get that far this time around.
The man with the scar said something to the
other two men. They laughed and reached inside their pockets. All three men
retrieved several bills of local currency. They each placed a generous amount
on the table next to the gun. They said something to the man with the scar as
they placed their bets.
The man with the scar addressed Mulder.
"You put gun to head and shoot one time. You still alive, you take woman
and go."
Mulder glanced at Scully. He glared at the man,
sighing. "No deal."
The man with the shotgun raised the weapon to
Mulder's temple.
"You go or you die right now," the man
with the scar said.
"If I win you'll let us go?" Mulder
asked.
"I give my word," the man with the
scar said. "Now, go!"
Mulder exhaled. "Doesn't look like I have a
choice, does it?"
The man with the scar laughed. His friends
joined him.
Mulder reached for the revolver.
The man with the shotgun kept him covered.
Scully looked on in horror.
Mulder pushed the revolver over the edge of the
table to the floor, completely surprising the three men. Without hesitating he
grabbed a handful of the white powder on the table and flung it into the eyes
of the man holding the shotgun, blinding him. With lightning speed Mulder
reached behind his back, drawing his service pistol.
The men reacted by reaching for their guns. They
were a second too late. Mulder aimed and fired the first shot into the man with
the scar, hitting him squarely in the chest. Mulder dove to the floor. He fired
quickly and accurately, cutting down a second man.
The man with the shotgun was still recovering
from the heroin thrown into this eyes. He yelled with rage, spraying the area
with blast after blast from his shotgun.
Mulder rolled on his back and fired two shots at
the man with the shotgun. A bullet ripped through the man's chin, exiting
behind his head. He collapsed to the ground, falling dead before Mulder's feet.
Without hesitating Mulder shot up to a kneeling
position, aiming the gun at the man holding Scully. "Let her go!" he
yelled at the remaining man.
The man was not armed. He approached Mulder,
using Scully as a shield. Mulder followed the advancing man with his gun. He
was sure he could take him out but couldn't bring himself to shoot. He wasn't
about to risk hitting Scully, not after all he went through in finding her.
"You don't stand a chance," Mulder
said to the man. "Let her go and I won't put a bullet in your head."
"I let woman go...you let me go?" the
man offered.
Mulder could care less about this man.
"Fine. It's a deal."
The man dragged Scully towards the door.
Mulder lowered his gun. "Let her go and get
out."
The man released Scully, shoving her towards
Mulder. He bolted to the door and ran out of the house.
Mulder rushed to Scully, taking her in his arms.
She collasped against him, sobbing and crying under the ball-gag. Mulder
reached behind her head, unfastening the ball-gag. He pulled it free and threw
it on the floor. He took Scully's face in his hands and held her tenderly.
"Oh, Scully..." he gasped. "I
thought I lost you forever."
Scully tried but failed to form words. She could
do nothing but cry, resting her head on Mulder's shoulder as he held her tight.
At long last she was safe.
------------------------------------------------------------
Mulder took Scully to his hotel room located on
a resort on a nearby island. Scully had hardly said a word during their short
trip. He couldn't even begin to imagine what she had been through these past
few days.
After reaching the hotel room Scully immediately
showered. Mulder had so many questions to ask her, but didn't know how or where
to begin. She seemed distant and aloof. There was a coldness about her, and it
unsettled him.
Scully emerged from the bathroom, wearing a
hotel robe.
Mulder stood from the couch where he waited for
her. "Scully...Uh...I was thinking that maybe you should get checked out
by a doctor."
"No," she replied. "Not right
now."
"Are you sure?"
"I know how I feel, Mulder," Scully
said flatly.
"Okay," Mulder said. "It's just
that...you don't look all that well."
"How did you find me?" Scully asked.
Mulder exhaled. "After you turned up
missing I did an extensive investigation on Robert Marshall. I knew he was the
key to your disappearance. Turns out Martin Kimball is on his payroll. So I
went to see Kimball and persuaded him to tell me where you were."
"How did you do that?"
Mulder shrugged. "I pointed a loaded gun at
his genitals. It's amazing the information you can get from a man when he has a
gun aimed at his balls. We should try it in some of our cases."
The joke fell flat. Scully remained stoic and
distant.
"Anyway, Kimball can kiss his FBI career
goodbye," Mulder added. "Robert Marshall's little operation is over.
His island house was raided yesterday. His men claim they don't know where he
is but we'll find him. I promise you we will."
Scully had no reaction whatsoever.
"I know it's not easy, Dana, but do you
want to talk about it?" Mulder asked cautiously. "How did you get
from Marshall's mansion to that house?"
"I escaped from Marshall's house,"
Scully replied. "I was recaptured in the jungle and... rescued by natives.
They killed Marshall and his men and sold me to those men in the house."
"So Marshall's dead?" Mulder asked.
Scully nodded. "That usually happens when
you get beheaded."
"Can't say I feel bad about that,"
Mulder said.
Scully turned to Mulder. "Don't you want to
know why Marshall kidnaped me?"
Mulder turned away. "Kimball gave me the
reason. That sick bastard."
"I need some clothes," Scully said.
"I'd like you to go out and buy me something to wear."
"You trust my fashion sense?" Mulder
asked.
"Please, Mulder," Scully said flatly.
Mulder turned serious. "Okay. I'll be right
back. If you're hungry you can order room service. We'll leave tomorrow morning
for Washington."
Mulder stared at Scully. It was as if he wasn't
even in the room. He was about to say something but didn't. Instead he walked
out of the room, quietly.
Scully stared straight ahead, lost in thought.
Her bottom lip shook and her eyes filled with tears. She suddenly burst out
sobbing and collapsed to the floor.
------------------------------------------------------------
WASHINGTON, DC
TWO WEEKS LATER
Scully walked down the silent hallway of the FBI
building, her heels clicking loudly. She noticed the curious stares she
received from the people she passed. It was probably no secret what had
happened to her. Their stares made her uneasy and she increased her pace.
She stepped into the basement office. Mulder was
not there yet. She looked about the cluttered office, focusing on the familiar
poster. She didn't know why, but she felt out of place. She had been coming
here almost every day for the past seven years and never felt this way before.
This really wasn't her office. It was Mulder's. Everything in here belonged to
Mulder...including her. She was a pawn in everyone's life but her own.
After two weeks of mandatory counseling she was
finally cleared and allowed to return to work. She told the counselor
everything she wanted to hear. Scully knew how the game worked. She had also
lied to the counselor. She told her about her experiences at Marshall's island
mansion, but didn't tell her about what really happened to her with the
natives.
How could she put into words the disgusting acts
she had been forced to perform in that native hut? How could she credibly
explain her actions? She could almost hear herself explaining: "They forced me to drink something and
then a beating drum made me perform oral sex on every native in the
village." How could she ever live that down?
She noticed the television set in front of
Mulder's desk and sighed. He had probably been engaged in his usual pornography
viewing. She needed to have a talk with him about that. At first it had been
amusing, but his unusual habit had gradually worn thin.
Still, she was curious. She picked up the remote
control from the desk and turned on the television. She pushed PLAY on the VCR
button and leaned back against the desk. The image on the screen froze her on
the spot. She stared at the screen, wide-eyed.
Instead of a porno scene the monitor came alive
with natives, chanting and dancing around a large fire! She recognized the
paint markings on their faces and bodies. They were the same natives she had
encountered in the jungle. The same natives who had...
She listened carefully. She could hear the
beating drums in the background. It was the same steady beat that possessed her
during those lurid sexual encounters. The tape was a documentary and a man with
a British accent was narrating, but all Scully heard was the beating drums. Her
gaze went blank and her breathing increased.
The door of the basement office swung open.
Mulder entered. "Scully, what..."
He stared at Scully as she watched the monitor
with an empty expression. She didn't turn or acknowledge his presence. She was
captivated by the screen.
Mulder tried to explain. "I was
just...doing some research. I thought maybe..."
Scully dropped the remote control on the floor.
She suddenly felt an all too familiar feeling invade and consume her entire body.
She turned to Mulder, her eyes full of wanton desire.
Mulder met her gaze. He had never seen that
expression on Scully and it frightened him. He swallowed. "Scully, what's
wrong? Why are you-"
Scully took a step towards Mulder. She quickly
knelt before him, reaching for his fly.
Mulder was too shocked to move. He looked around
nervously. He heard his zipper being pulled down and felt Scully's hand dig
inside his pants.
"Scully?" Mulder gasped. "What
the hell are you doing?"
THE END
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