***********************************************************************

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING STORY CONTAINS SEXUALLY EXPLICIT MATERIAL. IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY SUCH MATERAL, THEN DON'T READ FURTHER.

***********************************************************************

 

 

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

 

 

Comments or feedback, e-email: Perilmaster@hotmail.com