Ideal PunishmentIdeal Punishment, by Irene I_dareya@yahoo.com Rated NC-17 Spoilers: Nada Keywords: PWP-Ticklefic Summary: See above. You've been warned. Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully are the property of 1013 and Fox Broadcasting. "Pick me up at the Fielding Bay yacht club, and bring me some clothes." It couldn't be good, Scully thought, as she sped to the yacht club. Mulder had failed to convince the judge to issue a search warrant for the premises, and now he was calling her for a ride in the middle of the night. And what happened to his clothes? A private security guard and a couple of police detectives met her at the gate to the private compound, and the pieces of the story fell together. Mulder had broken into the yacht club and ransacked a storage shed. Apparently he'd chosen the water route, swimming across the narrow part of the bay and climbing up on the pier. "I don't know what the hell he was after," said the security guard. "He almost got away, too. The guy runs like a rabbit." "Just take him away," one of the cops said. "The yacht club doesn't need the publicity, and I don't think the FBI does either." "Thank you very much, officer," said Scully. "Where is he?" Mulder was waiting for her in a small room off the security office. "Did you bring me anything to wear?" he asked. She had his clothes in the trunk of her car, but he didn't deserve them. "I didn't have time," she said. "Do you know how it feels to sit on vinyl upholstery in a wet Speedo?" he asked. "I'll drive over to your place and pick something up for you. See you in an hour," she said, turning and walking away briskly. "Scully, wait!" he called, hurrying after her. She felt a little sympathy for his bare feet on the graveled pathways, but she wasn't the one who'd told him to conduct an illegal search in his bathing suit. "Do you have anything to say about what you did?" she asked when they were in the car. "I never hesitate to say when I was wrong. This time I was wrong," he admitted. That surprised her, and she felt new respect for him. "It must have been a bad tip. They're not hiding anything here," he explained. "And what about your tactics?" she asked. Even if he'd found something, the evidence would have been thrown out of court. "Scully, you know how it is. Sometimes you've got to do what you've got to do," he said. "Then you don't see any need for search warrants and you have no regrets about your methods," she asked pointedly. "My methods? How about what they did to me? They detained me, which is unlawful imprisonment. They fingerprinted me. Scully, they even took my footprints," he complained. "To match against the footprints you left all over the shed," she said. "I bet you left fingerprints too." "Hey, it's not like I could reach in my pocket for a pair of gloves,"he said. "And you still don't think you did anything wrong, except for falling for a bad tip?" she asked. "When you need results, you do what you've got to do," he said stubbornly. "Sometimes I feel that way about you," Scully said. @@@@@ @@@@@ @@@@@ @@@@@ @@@@@ The roads were empty, but Scully drove at a leisurely pace, to Mulder's obvious annoyance. "There's a truck-stop up ahead, if you're hungry," she suggested brightly. She had a captive, Speedo-clad Mulder in her car, and her naughty brain was beginning to enjoy the situation. "No thanks," he said through clenched teeth. She pulled into the truck-stop anyway, but she passed the cafeteria for the gas pumps. "Would you mind pumping?" she asked him. "Are you trying to punish me?" he asked sharply. "Goodness, no," she answered. She took the keys with her when she went to pay the attendant. It took forever for her to pump the gas and then collect her change. "Now can you take me home?" Mulder asked when Scully finally returned to the car. "I'm taking you to my place," she said. "I need to make sure you're okay." He glowered at her, sullen and resentful. "Or I can drop you off at Skinner's," she offered. "No? Didn't think so." @@@@@ @@@@@ @@@@@ @@@@@ @@@@@ Quite a few of Mulder's clothes ended up at Scully's place, and as soon as she unlocked the apartment door he headed for her closet. "Mulder!" she shouted. He was pulling a pair of his jeans off a hanger as he answered her. "Scully, you can yell at me all you want after I get dressed." "You're tracking up my carpet," she said. "Sit down and get your feet off my floor." "I'll clean up in the bathroom," he said. "There. Sit." She pointed to her bed, and he grudgingly obeyed, still clutching his jeans. "Don't take another step," she warned him. In a minute she returned with a bag of cotton balls and a bottle of baby oil. "Will that take the ink off?" Mulder asked. "Lie down," she ordered him. "I'll do it," he protested, reaching for the supplies. "Lie down, Mulder. I mean it," she said. With a shrug, Mulder lay down on the bed. "It's not only ink," Scully observed. "You're filthy." "You're the one who forgot to bring my shoes," Mulder said sharply. He heard Scully take a deep breath, and he thought she was going to yell at him. "Some of this dirt should brush right off," she said. "Let's see." The first touch of her fingers made him jerk, but then he gripped the bed and forced himself to lie absolutely still. Her fingertips grazed lightly against the sole of his foot in tiny circular movements. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that she was trying to tickle him. There wasn't a doubt in the world that she was succeeding. The only open question was if she had any idea how well she was succeeding. He clenched his teeth and breathed through his nose, but Scully knew what she was doing and she was very good at it. Mulder had never thought of himself as being particularly ticklish, and especially not on his feet, but each second was an eternity and he didn't know how much more he could take. "Don't flex your foot," she said. "Makes it harder to get you clean." She worked over the sole of his foot, covering every inch with delicate little dabs and strokes. Despite his best efforts, he let out a strangled groan. "Almost done," she said to his intense relief, but a minute later she was still at it. "That's much better," she announced, but her fingers were still torturing him, playing over the ball of his foot, and the arch, then down to the heel, and then up again. When she finally stopped, Mulder's relief was beyond measure. As he started to sit up he was panting as if he'd been running. "Other foot," Scully said. Again she stroked his sole with feather-light fingers. Either she was tickling him more or he'd simply reached his limit, but he yelled in protest. "Stop it!" She did not stop. "I can't be hurting you, Mulder. I'm barely touching you," she said. She was tickling him to death, but he didn't want to give himself away. He could imagine too many ways she'd be able to use his weakness against him. "Hurry up," he whispered. She picked up the pace so that her fingers flew over the bottom of his foot, and he was shaking from the effort not to laugh. "Are you ticklish, Mulder?" Scully asked him. He was finding it difficult to think straight. "How about here?" she asked. Gently she pulled his toes back and stroked underneath, and Mulder lost all control. The laughter exploded from him and he gave a kick that would have knocked Scully into the wall, if she hadn't dodged in time. Mulder jerked himself into a sitting position. "That's enough of that," he said huffily. "It's all right, Mulder. Most people are at least a little ticklish," Scully said. "I'll tie you up so that neither of us will get hurt." "I don't think so," Mulder said. He wanted to run but he was afraid to make any sudden moves. "You ransacked a storage shed full of fuel, solvents, and other potentially dangerous chemicals," Scully said. "It's really important to get all those chemicals off your body." "What?" he asked. "And since you're ticklish, you'll have trouble holding still while I dab away all the contaminants," Scully said. "I'll take a God-damned shower," Mulder said. "Tickling is really an ideal punishment, don't you think? No pain, and fun for everyone. Or would you rather have me report you so the authorities can discipline you?" she asked. "Don't threaten me," Mulder said. "No threat, Mulder, a choice. I know you don't want to be fired, or prosecuted, or sent to prison. Besides, you might enjoy a little tickle," she said. Scully didn't know when the idea had taken shape. Maybe from the moment he got in the car. Unrepentant about what he'd done, and so much vulnerable skin. "I can't believe you'd suggest this," Mulder said. "Think of it as a massage," she said. "Now get comfortable so I can tie you up nice and tight." He gaped at her but didn't make a move until she reached for her phone. Then he lay down and let her tie him to the bed, even though his heart was pounding. He position himself with his legs together and his arms at his sides, but she moved his arms up to tie them to her headboard. He resisted when she tried to spread his legs apart, and she let him win that one. He wasn't exactly spread-eagled, but he was quite helpless enough for her purposes. "I know you're nervous, so we're going to get started right away," Scully said. There was no pretense in her opening attack, nothing about cleaning off ink or chemicals. Just her hands under his arms, relentless and nimble, tickling him as he struggled to escape. There was no holding back the laughter, and Scully reveled in the sound and in her power to drive him insane using only her two hands. "This is much better," Scully said. "Let yourself go." As if he had a choice. He was laughing too hard to squeeze out a sentence, but now and then there he managed a "please" or "no." "We should have thought of this years ago," Scully said. "It's a great way to get rid of tension." She wasn't content to have him helpless and howling with laughter, she had to taunt him, too. "You make your own rules, Mulder, and leave me to cover up for you with the brass. Now I can get back at you without getting you fired," she said. He could barely move, and he couldn't speak. Even catching his breath was a struggle. He was entirely in Scully's hands, in every way, but despite his frenzy he was also aware of a sense of relief and even comfort. He couldn't screw up now because nothing at all was is his control. Scully was the boss. "Aren't you going to thank me?" Scully asked. "Hm? Hm, tickle-boy?" Her attack slowed until it was not more than a poke here, a poke there. She was giving him enough time to think and speak, but not enough to regain his dignity. "Scully, I think--" The rest of the sentence was buried in more helpless gales of laughter as she tickled his ribs. "Try again, tickle-boy. I'm saving your job and showing you a hell of a good time. Time to say thank you," she said. Again she relented, just a few tickles under the arms or on the rib cage. "Thank you," he managed to gasp. "Thank you for tickling me?" she prompted him. "God-damn it--" For the second time his words were smothered in howls of laughter. "Okay, Mulder, I'll give you a good work-out and then you can try again," she said. He was squirming and laughing and absolutely helpless, and Scully was as aroused as she'd ever been in her life. It wasn't until she was tickling his tummy way down by his little Speedo that she realized something.Mulder was pretty damn turned on himself. This time when she gave him a bit of a breather, he didn't fight her. "Thank you for tickling me," he said breathily. "Good boy," she said. "Does it make you horny when I tickle you?" She knew he'd say yes if only to appease her, but she wasn't prepared for the fervor of his reply. "Oh, god, yes," he said. "Do you like it here?" she asked as she tickled his underarms. She was not showing much mercy, and he couldn't answer properly, but she caught the essence. "No. Please. Stop." He was begging her to stop, yet his erection was straining against the Speedo. "Is this better?" she asked, tickling his tummy again. There was an edge of desperation as he begged her to stop, even through his laughter, and she slowed down her assault. "I have some bad news, Mulder," she said. "That Speedo has to go. I'm afraid it's cutting off your circulation." She peeled the suit down over his hips, guiding it over his engorged cock and down to his ankles. "Scully, please," Mulder groaned. "Aw, I made you all hot and hard and now you want me to fuck you," she teased him. "Please," he begged. "I'd love to, honey, but I'm not done tickling you," she said. "Please. Scully, please," he said. "Okay," she said, immediately launching into an attack on his ribs that had him thrashing and howling. She kept it up, enjoying the way the merciless tickling made him laugh and writhe, enjoying the sight of his rock-hard erection. She was forced to ease up on him as she took off her clothes, but she was careful to give him enough really good tickles to maintain his hysteria. "So, Mulder, all the years I spent trying to get in your pants. And all I had to do was tickle you into submission," she said. She stopped tickling him but kept her eyes locked on his as she straddled him. "Scully, do you have any idea how long I've wanted you?" Mulder panted. "You could have had me any time." She grasped his thick penis, guiding it as she lowered herself. She was wet and ready, but still it was a tight fit. She pumped against him tentatively, then moved herself a few inches toward the foot of the bed. This was very good. She felt rubbing where she wanted it and a gratifying stretching sensation. She was close to orgasm already when she began to pump in earnest. The feeling inside her was so delicious that she wished it would go on and on. She would never complain that she didn't come if only this feeling could last. She thumbed circles around Mulder's hard nipples, and then she found herself curious about how he'd react to more tickling. Her hands snuck down to his sides and the tickling began. He had even less movement than before, with Scully over his hips and the Speedo around his ankles. He would have bucked her off if he could, but he was glad that he couldn't. "No!" he yelled hoarsely, laughing hysterically at the same time. "Yes," she corrected him. She was laughing too. In her own way, she was as out of control as he was. He came hard, fast, and loud, and his climax triggered Scully on to her own. She came gripping his arms, grinding and pumping. She came for a long time. When reason returned, she found herself naked and spent atop an equally spent Mulder. "Am I crushing you?" she asked. "No," he said. "Are you comfortable?" she asked him. "Not exactly," he said. "If I untie you, will you promise to let me tie you up again whenever I want?" she asked. "Scully, that's not fair. That's coercion," he said. "I know, Mulder. Sometimes you've got to do what you've got to do." fin