Title: Interrogation 

Author:  Orithain orithain@aol.com and Nicole S. nicxf@softhome.net 

Fandom: The X-Files 

Pairing: Mulder/Krycek 

Rating:  NC-17 

Warnings: Unconsensual sex along with general Nazi nastiness. 
Rape and graphic violence. 

Summary: AU. What if Mulder and Krycek lived in another time, another 
place? What if that time and place was WWII and both were on opposite 
sides of the war? "Interrogation" explores that possibility. 

Disclaimer: All things X-Files are the 
property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox. 

 



Chapter 1: Interrogation 

Fox Mulder was scared. He had never been so scared in his life. Even 
when his plane was going down in flames last week, he never thought he 
would end up like this. He was naked and chained in a cell at SS 
Headquarters. No food or water for three days. No one came to see him 
or check on him. He was cold and tired; the chains made it hard for 
him to sleep. 

//They're trying to break me, I know it. They're trying to wear me 
down. I won't let that happen.// He hummed the Star Spangled Banner, 
Yankee Doodle Dandy, songs from the Hit Parade, anything to keep him 
focused. He was an American, and they wouldn't break him. 

Suddenly, the door swung open. Mulder looked up to see a tall man step 
through it. He was wearing the black uniform of the SS. The iron cross 
at his neck was black, encrusted with diamonds. The eagle on his hat, 
holding the wreath with the swastika inside, gleamed in the dim light. 
A swastika armband encircled his left bicep. His black jackboots were 
so shiny, Mulder could see his face in them. The officer looked down 
at the quivering form of Mulder on the floor as the door swung shut 
with a loud clang. 

"Lt. Mulder. How nice to finally meet you in person. I am Commandant 
Krycek." The officer bent down to get a closer look at his captive. 
Those hazel eyes showed defiance. He stood back up to his full height 
for a minute before producing a key. He bent again and began unlocking 
Mulder's shackles. 

Mulder rubbed his wrists and ankles, which were red and swollen. The 
metal had cut into his flesh, leaving a scar around each limb. 

"How are you enjoying your stay with us? You are getting special 
treatment, you know. The other prisoners don't have the luxury of 
having a roof over their heads. Being winter, you should be grateful." 
Krycek stood to put the key back inside a pocket. He then knelt down 
beside his captive again, his green eyes narrowed, mouth twisted into 
a smirk. 

"Lt. Mulder, you have some information that I want. And you are going 
to give it to me. What I want to know, Lt. Mulder, is what your Air 
Force has planned for us? Bombing raids, when and where?" 

Mulder was silent. 

Krycek put a boot on top of the welt on Mulder's ankle and pressed 
down, gaining a groan of pain from the other man. "Come, come, Lt. 
Mulder. I know that you know this information. You would not be here 
if you didn't." He pressed down on Mulder's ankle, making him howl 
with pain. Krycek sighed and stopped pressing on his ankle. 

"F-F-Fox Mulder, Lieutenant, United States Air Force, 15769823," 
Mulder sputtered. 

Krycek looked at him with contempt. "The Geneva Convention does not 
apply here." 

"Fox Mulder, Lieutenant, United States Air Force, 15769823," Mulder 
said again, this time more strongly. 

"Mulder, Mulder, what kind of name is that anyway? Huh? You Americans 
are all impure. You reproduce with whomever you choose, creating mutts 
like dogs." 

Mulder spat at the man before him. "Fuck you." 

Krycek's face started to turn red. "You want to play games with me? 
I'll play games, little man." 

His hand came up and down hard as he slashed Mulder across the cheek 
with his riding crop. Mulder howled once again as the crop left a 
bloody wound across his cheek. Krycek then continued to smack Mulder 
all over his body with the riding crop, leaving bruises and cuts. 

"Fox Mulder, Lieutenant, United States Air Force, 15769823," Mulder 
said shakily. 

"You are starting to bore me." 

"Fox Mulder, Lieutenant, United States Air Force, 15769823." 

Krycek looked down at Mulder's bleeding cheek. The blood was starting 
to run down his chin and leave crimson droplets on the floor. He 
sucked in his breath. The blood was so red. He brought Mulder to his 
feet, staring at the blood, before moving in and licking up the trail 
with the tip of his tongue. 

"Fox Mulder, Lieutenant, United..." Mulder sucked in his breath in 
shock. What the hell was he doing? 

Krycek continued to lap up the blood, a small moan escaping his lips. 
His eyes were closed, and he was practically purring. He held Mulder 
by the shoulders, sucking on his chin, getting every last drop. When 
the blood stopped flowing, Krycek leaned back, licking his lips. 

"What are you, some kind of vampire?" 

"Hmph." Krycek's eyes gleamed an icy green. "Are you going to tell me, 
Lt. Mulder, what I need to know? Hmmm??" He caressed the wounded cheek 
with his leather-gloved hand. 

Mulder continued repeating his name, rank and serial number. 

Krycek sighed. "If you won't tell me what I want to know, I'll find a 
better use for that mouth." 

Mulder stopped speaking as he had temporarily lost the ability. He 
stared at the Nazi, terrified by the lust he saw in his eyes. He 
winced as Krycek started caressing him with the riding crop, following 
the contours of his body. The noticeable bulge in the crisp, black SS 
uniform pressed into his leg. Mulder closed his eyes and used all his 
willpower to keep from screaming. //This can't be happening, this 
can't be happening.// 

Suddenly, Krycek stopped what he was doing and looked down. It seemed 
that some of Mulder's blood had marred the shine on his perfect boots. 
He pushed Mulder down on all fours. "Clean up your mess." He pointed 
to his boots. 

"What?" Mulder looked at the drops of blood on the shiny black 
leather. "N-n-no, I won't do it. I can't do it." 

"What do you mean, you won't? Do it. Now." 

"I can't." 

Krycek's face turned red. "You will!" He smacked Mulder across the 
buttocks with his riding crop, bringing a fresh bout of welts. "Do 
it!" he screamed. 

Mulder could feel the welts rising on his skin. The pain was 
incredible. Slowly, he bent forward, bringing his face down to the 
Commandant's boots. He was almost gagging, he couldn't do it. He 
hovered above the shiny black leather. Suddenly, the riding crop 
smacked him again, this time across his back. He let out a cry as he 
bent his head to try again. He lapped at the boots once with his 
tongue, shuddering at the taste of his own blood. He pulled away with 
a cry of disgust, shaking. 

A smile crossed Krycek's face. He loved it when prisoners were forced 
to submit. But this was just the beginning for Lt. Mulder. He had 
grand plans for him. Krycek stepped back and undressed quickly. He 
stood before Mulder again, this time wearing only his boots and his 
hat. 

"Stay where you are, Lt. Mulder," he said softly. "Do not move." 
Krycek ran the riding crop over Mulder's body again, over the welts on 
his back and buttocks then down. He could hear Mulder suck in his 
breath as he ran the crop between the American's ass cheeks. He paid 
special attention to that area, rubbing the end of it against the ring 
of muscle there. 

Mulder didn't know whether to moan or cry. He bit his lip to keep from 
doing either. 

"Finish cleaning my boots." Krycek said, slapping him lightly on the 
ass to reiterate the obvious punishment if he did not. 

Shaking, Mulder bent his head and lapped up the smooth, shiny leather. 
First one boot, then the other. He breathed a sigh of relief as he ran 
his tongue around the top of the second boot. Finished, he sat back, 
finally able to breathe. 

"Keep going." 

Mulder looked up in disbelief. "What?" 

"Keep going." The crop came up to threaten the man below him. 

He looked at the German without comprehension. 

"Clean me now." 

He looked at the Nazi in horror. His stomach turned as he realized 
what he wanted him to do. 

"I said now." 

"I can't. Please," he whimpered. 

Krycek pressed the tip of his crop inside Mulder warningly. 

Shaking violently, Mulder returned his tongue to Krycek's legs. This 
time above the shiny leather. He ran his tongue up the skin, tasting 
him, wanting to spit the taste out of his mouth. When he got to the 
thigh, he switched to the other leg, returning to just above the top 
of the boot. 

"Higher!" Krycek demanded. 

Mulder moaned faintly, praying he would just kill him, instead of 
making him do this. Suddenly, the crop came up again to threaten him. 
Mulder raised his arms to block its blow. Instead the crop caressed 
his chin and brought his face up to meet the German's gaze. 

"Your face is too pretty for such scars." 

Mulder could feel tears well up in his eyes. 

"Now. Higher!" 

"No! You can kill me, but I won't do it!" 

"Oh, I won't kill you, my pretty American. But I will throw you in 
with the criminals. What do you think they will do to you? You will be 
the popular one, for certain." 

Mulder's mouth opened and closed as he realized that being raped by 
one man was better than by a dozen. He forced himself to move closer 
to the Commandant, almost sobbing as his tongue came into contact with 
the hot flesh again. He could smell the musk of the other man's 
arousal. He licked up to where thigh met groin. Krycek let out a small 
moan as Mulder slowly moved up to where the dark, curly hair was. He 
swallowed the lump down in his throat as his tongue made its way up to 
the Nazi's heavy sac. 

"Suck me!" the German ordered, not touching him, preferring to force 
him to do it on his own. 

Mulder tried, licking tentatively, gagging at the taste. 

"I said suck, not lick. Don't you know the difference?" He raised his 
crop at Mulder again. "Fucking American dogs, so stupid," he muttered 
under his breath. 

Mulder swallowed a moan, trying not to let the Commandant see just how 
much this was upsetting him. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction. 
Reluctantly, Mulder took the tip of the man's cock in his mouth. Tears 
welled up in his eyes as he started to suck on the fragile skin. He 
contemplated biting down, but knew that if he did, he would never get 
out alive. Despite everything, he still hadn't given up hope of 
surviving this ordeal. 

Krycek started to thrust into his mouth, forcing him to take the cock 
deep into his throat. He closed his eyes and moaned as he started to 
fuck Mulder's mouth. 

Mulder started to gag, but Krycek didn't move away. He managed to 
relax his throat muscles before he choked. 

"That's it. Suck it down." Krycek grabbed a handful of Mulder's hair 
and pulled hard as he came into the American's mouth. 

Tears streamed down Mulder's face as he pulled back. He spit Krycek's 
come on the floor in the corner, unable to swallow the bitter liquid. 
He gagged, then started to choke. 

Krycek hit him, knocking him flat on the floor. Staring at the 
American at his feet, Krycek decided to make it far worse for him. The 
Commandant dropped down, straddling Mulder, reaching out to take his 
cock into his hand. He was going to make Mulder participate and enjoy 
it. 

He stroked the limp cock, gripping it warningly when Mulder tried to 
pull away. Mulder was horrified to feel himself begin to harden. The 
nazi couldn't resist and reached out and pinched one of Mulder's 
nipples. Mulder couldn't prevent a cry of unwilling pleasure from 
escaping him. 

Krycek leaned down, taking Mulder's erection in his mouth. He loved to 
do this. 

//I can't do this, I can't do this.// Mulder thought to himself. //But 
it feels so good.// 

Krycek swirled his tongue over the head, gaining another moan from 
Mulder who arched up into his mouth. He barely prevented himself from 
begging for more. Mulder was caught between the pleasure of and the 
disgust of Krycek sucking his cock. 

Krycek was hard again by now, aroused by the sight of the beautiful 
American writhing under him. He wanted to put that hardness to good 
use, but he wanted Mulder willing. Taking two fingers, he sucked on 
them for a minute, coating them with saliva. Reaching down, he 
inserted one, then another into Mulder's tight opening, stretching him 
quickly. 

Mulder bit his lip and held still, using all his strength not to 
thrust those fingers deeper into him. Suddenly, he was on all fours, 
and the Nazi was quickly entering him, stretching him farther and 
farther apart. Mulder cried out at the pain, but there was pleasure as 
well. 

Krycek slammed into Mulder, his balls slapping against the American's 
ass. And what a sweet ass it was. So tight, so hot. He reached over 
and took hold of Mulder's cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts. 


Mulder moaned, he could feel that he was going to come. How could he 
be enjoying this? This man was his enemy, his captor, his rapist. The 
thoughts fell from his mind as his creamy fluid shot out of his cock 
onto the stained concrete below. Finally, he couldn't hold back a cry 
of pleasure. 

Krycek grinned in triumph and slammed into him one more time. He let 
out a cry of his own as he came deeply into the American's ass. He 
pulled away from Mulder, who curled up into a ball of misery on the 
floor. 

Krycek dressed quickly and started to leave the cell. He stopped at 
the door to look back at the shivering man. 

"I hope you choose not to answer my questions again tomorrow." He 
laughed to himself as the door closed again with a loud clang, leaving 
Mulder to sob quietly to himself on the floor. 

  



Chapter 2: The Deal 

Fox Mulder was still scared. Not to mention tired, cold, and his ass 
was incredibly sore. He tried to curl up into a ball in his cell, but 
the chains prevented him from doing so. He groaned in pain as they cut 
deeper into his wrists and ankles. They moved him to another cell this 
morning; it was quieter here at the end of the hallway. He could sleep 
a little. But it was so cold, and they hadn't given him a blanket. He 
shivered constantly, trying to generate some warmth by moving as much 
as possible in the chains they had put back on him after Krycek left 
him the day before. 

He sniffed a tear away as he thought about what happened yesterday. 
How the hell could he have had an orgasm with that Nazi pig? How could 
he find pleasure in such a despicable act? He tried to throw up 
afterward, but he had not eaten in four days. This happened every time 
he thought about what he had done with the Nazi. He didn't know if the 
memories or the dry heaves hurt more. 

He started to convulse again, the chains pulling tight as he choked 
and fought back the bile that wouldn't come. He had to calm down, had 
to remain in control, had to keep the faith. Someone would come and 
rescue him, he was an American dammit! They couldn't treat him this 
way. "They can't treat me this way," he whispered as another tear slid 
down his cheek. 

  

  

  



Sturmbahnfuehrer Krycek looked in the mirror and straightened his 
uniform. He loved how the starchy, black material complimented his 
skin tone. Black was his color. He fiddled with his Knights Cross of 
Iron around his neck. It was hard to keep straight as it was so heavy. 
It took patience and time to get it right. He had little of either. 

He did not receive the highest honor in the Third Reich by being 
patient. Three years on the Eastern Front, being a good soldier is 
what got you medals here, not ass kissing and politics. Krycek smiled 
to himself as he thought of his proudest moment. He led the advance on 
Kharkov, killing hundreds in various painful ways. He had been 
decorated three times before that for other battles along the Front. 
One time he and a Panzer Division wiped out a whole village. They 
killed everyone, save for the young men whom they tortured for five 
days then killed anyway. The Eastern Front was no picnic. The fourth 
time he was decorated, it was here in Berlin by the Fuehrer himself. 
That's when the SS took note of his interrogation techniques and made 
him the offer. His Uberbahnfuehrer at that time was quite proud of 
young Krycek. He would sit back and smoke cigarette after cigarette 
while watching Krycek hone his craft. Unfortunately, in war, all must 
die, including his smoking colleague. A shot in the temple by a 
British weapon was all it took, sometimes. 

Now he had Lt. Mulder to keep him busy. //He will talk. He will 
submit. And if he does not talk, he will submit again and again.// A 
laugh escaped his lips as he pulled on the large black hat. The skull 
and crossbones that decorated it below the eagle and swastika shone 
brilliantly in the light. 

"Welcome to hell, Lt. Mulder. I am the Devil. And you will be 
worshipping at my feet before I'm done with you." He laughed again as 
he stepped away from his mirror and gave himself a final look before 
leaving his quarters. 

  

  

  



Mulder looked up, eyes wide as the door swung open. The walls and door 
were so thick that he could not hear them come down the hallway. At 
any minute, such as this particular one, someone could walk through 
the door. Mulder swallowed, his mouth bone dry. It was him. He was 
wearing a long, leather trenchcoat over his uniform. How Mulder wanted 
that coat. He was so cold, so tired. 

Krycek bent down and looked at his captive. "How is my little dog 
today? Hmmm? My little American mutt." He reached out and caressed the 
scab on Mulder's cheek from his torture yesterday. "Are you ready to 
talk, my little dog? Or do you want more of what happened yesterday?" 

Mulder tried very hard to keep from heaving. He couldn't talk. He was 
horrified to think of what happened yesterday. 

"Tell me, Lt. Mulder. When are your allies planning their next bombing 
raid? Where is it going to be? Berlin, Bonn, Hamburg? Where?" He saw 
the terror in Mulder's eyes. Once again he reached out to touch the 
scab on his cheek with a leather-gloved hand. "You will tell me these 
answers, Lt. Mulder," he whispered. 

"N...n....no. I won't. You'll have to kill me first," Mulder croaked. 

Krycek's eyes narrowed. This was not what he wanted to hear. "You 
will! Have you not learned your lesson from yesterday? Hmm? Do you 
want more of the crop?" Krycek brandished the riding crop to embellish 
his point. 

"I won't...I won't betray my country." 

"Fuck your country." Krycek drew up the riding crop and started 
beating Mulder relentlessly. Mulder cried out in pain from each blow. 
Krycek made sure to reopen many of Mulder's wounds from the previous 
whipping, watching the blood flow with lust blazing in his cold green 
eyes. He stopped. He was panting as hard as Mulder. Turning, he took 
off the gloves, then the heavy coat and hat and hung them on one of 
the hooks on the wall. 

"P-p-p-please," moaned Mulder. 

Krycek's eyes narrowed again as he knelt before his captive. The blood 
was flowing freely now from various wounds on his body. He bent over 
Mulder and once again licked several of the lashmarks, lapping away 
the blood hungrily. As each cut stopped bleeding, he repeated the 
process on another one, leaving only the one on Mulder's face 
untouched. He didn't want that one to scar. 

Mulder whimpered as he felt the Nazi's tongue run over his wounds. 
//Not again, not again. No, not again.// He tried to remain calm but 
started bucking and convulsing again. 

Krycek stood back for a minute before producing the key to unchain 
Mulder from his shackles. As he unlocked the last one, Mulder scurried 
to cower in a corner. Krycek raised his eyebrows. //Yes, just like a 
little dog.// He was still hot. He took off his jacket and the Iron 
Cross around his neck. Now was the time to make his deal. 

"Lt. Mulder, how would you like some food?" 

Mulder looked over at the man towering above him. He was so hungry, 
just the mention of food sent his stomach growling. "Food?" 

Krycek's mouth twisted into a leer. "Yes, food. But this food is not 
free." He knelt before Mulder again and started caressing his thigh. 
"All food must be bought." 

Mulder stared at Krycek in horror. //Did he just say what I thought he 
said?// "No fucking way!" 

Krycek looked at Mulder for a minute, his face growing red. "I don't 
believe you have a choice." Krycek then left the cell. 

"Oh god, please don't let him do this to me again," Mulder whimpered 

Krycek came back a minute later with a small tray of food. "If you 
touch this, I will draw and quarter you. We still do that, you know." 
Krycek let out a small laugh before proceeding to get undressed. He 
stripped down and put his boots back on before looking at Mulder 
again. 

"Now. A piece of bread requires you to lick my boots. Both of them. 
You may begin now." 

Mulder looked up at the contempt in the Nazi's eyes. "Please don't 
make me do that again." 

"As I said, Lt. Mulder, you have no choice. Now, clean my boots." 

Mulder knelt down and stuck his tongue out. He gagged once before 
applying it to Krycek's boots. He licked one, then the other, choking 
down sobs the whole way. 

"That's it, my little doggy, lick them clean." Krycek said. He had to 
admit, Lt. Mulder was a very good prisoner. Always willing to do just 
what his captors wanted him to - except talk - but that would change. 

When Mulder had finished his job, Krycek handed him a piece of brown 
bread. It was heavenly. A strong nutty flavor, moist, the best bread 
he had ever tasted. Mulder ensured to take small bites as his stomach 
might not be able to handle large pieces after having nothing in it 
for days. 

Krycek waited until Mulder was finished before tilting his head up 
with the riding crop. He noticed how his hazel eyes had flecks of gold 
in them. "You must be thirsty after that bread. You may clean my legs 
with your tongue for a sip of water." 

Mulder's mouth opened and closed, but then his eyes dropped in defeat. 
He rose to his knees and put his hands on the back of Krycek's legs. 
If nothing else, being close to this Nazi pig gave him some warmth. 
One after the other, Mulder licked up the legs before him, stopping at 
the crease where leg met thigh, as he did yesterday. 

"That was very good. You may now have your water." Krycek handed 
Mulder a small tin cup, filled to the brim with cool, clean water. 

Mulder took the cup carefully, so as not to spill even a single drop, 
and drank the water down, hoping to rinse the taste of Krycek from his 
mouth. 

He handed the cup back to Krycek. Finally, food and water. How long 
had it been? Would it be enough to sustain him, or would it just be 
enough to keep him alive to have them torture him until the end of the 
war? Whenever that would be. 

"This is a small bowl of broth." Krycek pointed to an object on the 
tray. "It's not much, but it's better than the other prisoners are 
getting. I would like you to stand and lick my nipples. I want you to 
do a good job too. When I am satisfied, you may have the broth." 

Mulder stood up, Krycek helping him to his feet. They were face to 
face. He was about 2" shorter than the other man, which Mulder 
attributed to the boots. He was not that old either, 32, 35 at the 
most. His green eyes were like emeralds, almost glowing. They might 
have been kind eyes at one time but now showed the ravages of war, 
hard and cold like ice. Mulder bent down and put his arms around his 
captor; Krycek was so warm. He began licking one brown, flat nipple, 
bringing it to a hard peak. 

Krycek closed his eyes and sighed. Oh, this felt good. He wove his 
hand through Mulder's hair, bringing his head over to his other 
nipple. Mulder tugged on it with his teeth, nipping at the hairs that 
surrounded it. Krycek could feel himself start to harden. His cock 
ached to be touched. Finally, he brought Mulder's head away from his 
chest. 

"That was very good, Lt. Mulder. You may now have the broth." He 
handed the tin bowl to Mulder, who started drinking it down slowly, 
his hazel eyes locked on his own. When Mulder was done, he took the 
bowl from him and replaced it on the tray. 

Krycek smiled. "I have something here that not too many people have, 
Lt. Mulder. I have an orange. The whole thing is yours if you suck my 
cock. What do you say?" 

"Do I have a choice?" 

"Yes. I can chain you up again, and you can watch me eat the orange." 

Mulder licked his lips. He wanted that orange. 

"Have you ever known someone to die of scurvy, Lt. Mulder? All your 
insides turn to jelly, the tissue disintegrates, it's quite messy. On 
the eastern front, scurvy is rampant. I will not bore you with tales 
of death and disintegration right now, however. What's it going to 
be?" 

Mulder nodded his head. 

"I'm glad. Now. Suck my cock." 

Mulder knelt before the man and steadied himself for a minute before 
taking a deep breath. He pulled Krycek's foreskin back, showing a 
purple headed cock. It was very hard. Mulder licked the tip, bringing 
a shudder from above. He could smell the other man's musk, feeling 
with horror his own cock react to it. Licking the underside of the 
head, his lips closed around it. Applying steady suction, he took in 
another inch, then another, forcing himself to relax his throat 
muscles. His own cock was starting to throb. How could this be turning 
him on? How could his own body betray him like this? He continued to 
suck on the Nazi's cock, swirling his tongue around and around, 
gaining satisfied sighs from above. 

Krycek sucked in his breath. How he loved this man's mouth. He knew 
exactly what to do with his tongue as well. It didn't take long for 
Krycek to start moaning and bucking, fucking Mulder's mouth. Finally, 
with a grunt, he came, emptying himself down Mulder's throat. When 
Mulder finished swallowing, he brought him up for a kiss. He needed to 
taste himself in the other man's mouth. 

Mulder pulled away, his hazel eyes filled with confusion. //What the 
hell was that?// 

Krycek just smirked at him before turning away for a minute. When he 
turned back, he had the orange in his hand. He started peeling the 
orange, looking over at Mulder, noticing his erection. 

"You have paid well for this morsel, Lieutenant." 

Mulder's mouth watered as he smelled the zest of the orange release 
its tart scent. 

Krycek decided to take his time peeling the orange and dividing it 
into sections. The perfect flesh glistened. Krycek took one of the 
sections and pressed it against Mulder's lips. The mouth opened and 
took it inside. Section after section was fed to Mulder this way. 

Mulder was in bliss. How could a thing like an orange be so sensual? 
He closed his eyes as another section of orange was pressed against 
his lips. Not only did he take the succulent bit of orange but the 
fingers that held it inside his mouth, sucking on them, licking them. 
God, what was he doing? Was this real? 

A shiver ran up Krycek's spine. He was starting to harden again. Just 
the look of Mulder, holding onto his wrist, licking the juice from his 
fingers was enough to bring a silent moan to his lips. 

"That's good, lick it all up, get every last drop." 

When Mulder was done with the orange, Krycek kissed him again. His 
tongue explored the other man's mouth, tasting the sweet acidity of 
the orange. He noticed that Mulder had relaxed somewhat. He kissed him 
some more, his hands caressing the prisoner's back. Krycek moved in to 
rub his crotch against Mulder, letting their erections touch. A moan 
entered his mouth from the one before him. That was just what he 
wanted to hear. 

A shockwave ran through Mulder. Did he just moan? Why was this 
particular man making him so hard? Suddenly, Krycek pulled away. 
Mulder suppressed the whimper that formed on his lips. A gasp was let 
out instead as Krycek started to kiss down his neck and down, latching 
on to a nipple. Mulder released another moan. Oh god, this felt so 
good. How could this be? How could he get pleasure from a Nazi who, by 
the looks of the decorations on his uniform, had killed many. He was 
SS for Christ's sake! 

Krycek was rock hard. The smell and taste of this man was like nothing 
he had smelled or tasted before. He forced himself to pull away and 
look at Mulder. His lips were swollen from the kissing, as well as 
passion. He stroked the side of his face with his hand before stepping 
away and laying his coat on the floor. He then lay flat on his back, 
hands behind his head, bringing Mulder down to crouch beside him. 

"How would you like a blanket?" 

Mulder's eyebrows rose. "How?" Mulder couldn't imagine what more the 
Nazi could want from him. 

"There is one thing yet to do, Lieutenant. For that, you may have a 
blanket. Come here. I want you to kneel over me, straddling my waist." 
Krycek knew that this was risky, but Mulder was weak from lack of 
food, and he wasn't a fool. The American knew he couldn't escape, so 
Krycek was willing to gamble for the resulting pleasure. 

Mulder obeyed his captor but, at the same time, tried to keep his ass 
from making contact with the German. No luck, Krycek forced him to sit 
down on his haunches, bringing his ass into the cradle of Krycek's 
pelvis. Mulder sat frozen, afraid to move, until Krycek's hand behind 
his neck forced him to bend forward to meet the other man's kiss. The 
position made it easy for Krycek to slide his other hand over the 
American's ass. 

He stroked one finger lightly over the tight ring of muscle, his hand 
on Mulder's neck holding him down when he jumped at the sensation. 
Krycek gradually worked three fingers inside Mulder, one after the 
other, making the other man whimper with pleasure at the sensation. 
Finally, when Mulder was thrusting uncontrollably back on those 
fingers, unable to stop himself despite his horror, Krycek pulled out 
of him. 

Mulder whimpered in protest before he realized what he was doing. He 
was so close to coming, his cock dripping with pre-cum. 

"If you want more," Krycek whispered, "you have to take me inside 
you." 

Mulder stared at him blankly, his hips still moving involuntarily. 

Krycek tilted his pelvis suggestively, brushing his cock against 
Mulder's ass. Mulder's eyes widened as he realized what Krycek wanted 
him to do. 

"No!" 

Krycek just laughed, stroking Mulder's cock and balls, keeping him on 
the brink. He kept playing with the American's body until the other 
man was nearly screaming, desperate to come. Every so often he stroked 
the yearning hole, never going inside despite Mulder's frantic 
movements. "Take me into you," he repeated, holding his cock steady to 
make it easier for the American...this time. 

Finally, tears running down his face, Mulder shifted back until the 
cock pressed against his entrance. He closed his eyes, unable to look 
at Krycek at this moment, and forced himself down on it in one long, 
slow glide. 

Krycek waited until he was nearly all the way inside Mulder before 
catching his hips and slamming him down while he thrust upward. Mulder 
screamed when Krycek's cock hit his prostate, overwhelmed by the 
pleasure. Krycek forced himself to lie still, making Mulder do all the 
work. When he was close, he started to thrust into Mulder's ass and 
stroke his cock in the same rhythm. 

Mulder started sweating in the damp cold of the cell. This felt so 
good, so good. Oh god, how could this feel so good? Coherent thought 
was ripped from Mulder's mind as his orgasm traveled through his body. 
His eyes fluttered closed for a second as the bright light shone 
brightly from behind his eyelids. His body felt as if it was being 
turned inside out, and a raw moan escaped his throat. He wanted to 
collapse on top of the other man, but he couldn't bring himself to do 
it, couldn't show him he enjoyed it that much. 

Krycek thrust his hips up one, two, three times, then he was done. A 
grimace crossed his face as he came into the American with a cry. He 
breathed hard, his breath steaming in the rapidly cooling air of the 
cell. He looked up at Mulder, who was breathing heavily as well. 

Mulder disengaged himself from the German and crept backwards until 
his back was against the wall. He felt so dirty, so used. Yet he had 
this tingling passion running though his body from the orgasm. 

"That was very nice, Lt. Mulder. Unfortunately, you are not done, 
quite yet." 

Mulder looked at the man as if he was crazy. What more could he put 
him through? How much was he to endure? 

"You may lick me clean, then it is finished." 

Mulder's mouth opened. Lick him clean? Of his own cum? He stifled a 
gag, not wanting to lose the food he just ate. Who knew how long it 
would be before he ate again. 

"Come here, Lt. Mulder, let's have that sweet mouth of yours do some 
good." Krycek grabbed Mulder by the wrist, gaining a cry from the 
other man when he squeezed his welt. 

Mulder knelt over Krycek and started lapping up the cum. The absence 
of food for a few days had afforded him very little cum. He licked 
along the Nazi's stomach and chest, over his nipples and up to his 
chin, getting every last speck. Suddenly, the German pushed him away 
and stood up. 

Krycek dressed quickly. The guards would be coming down the hallway 
any minute for the rounds. He couldn't be caught naked with another 
man. No matter what his rank and decorations, homosexuality was not 
tolerated in the Third Reich. He would rather die than sew a pink 
triangle on his clothes and be treated as one of the impure. 
Collecting the tray, he opened the cell door. Bending down, he picked 
up a thin blanket from the floor outside, tossing it over Mulder. He 
left without a word, leaving Mulder to clutch his reward around 
himself while he tried to hold back his sobs. 

  



Chapter 3: Addictions 

Mulder was curled up in a ball on the floor in the corner. He was 
shivering and bloody after another session of beatings by Krycek. He 
knew what came after the beatings but didn't want to think about it. 
He closed his eyes and tried to think of something else, something to 
dull the pain, to take his mind off the inevitable. Various images ran 
through his mind until he found a suitable distraction Cigarettes. He 
hadn't had a cigarette in over a week. He could smell the smoke 
lingering on Krycek's uniform when he came in, and he could faintly 
smell it now from where it now hung on the pegs along the wall. What 
he wouldn't do.... He stopped that thought in mid-flow. He didn't need 
one that badly. 

"What are you thinking, Lt. Mulder? You are smiling." 

Mulder hesitated to answer. He knew that it would only give Krycek 
something else to "bargain" with him for. The last thing he needed was 
to give the bastard something else to demand sexual favors for. So he 
was shocked to hear himself say, "Cigarettes. I was thinking, I would 
like a cigarette." 

"A cigarette?" 

"Yeah." 

"I have cigarettes. I have American cigarettes, in my pocket. I might 
let you have one." 

Mulder opened his eyes and looked up at Krycek looming over him. 

"For a price." 

Mulder knew what he was asking. Krycek's erection bobbed in the air 
above him. The craving for a smoke was raging through his body, 
wrestling with his mind and countering his horror at what he would 
have to do to get one. But now that he knew he could get a cigarette, 
he couldn't stop thinking about it. He wanted it so badly it was 
almost sexual; that had to be why he was hardening. He licked his lips 
before he spoke. 

"What's your price?" 

Krycek moved back and leaned against a wall. "If you suck my cock, I 
will let you share one with me." 

Mulder swallowed. "I just have to..." he breathed in deeply "...suck 
your cock?" 

"Yes. No more, but no less, either." 

Mulder pursed his lips together. 

"Lt. Mulder, I hope you realize that you will have to perform your 
daily duty, whether you reap a reward or not." 

Mulder closed his eyes and exhaled. Silently, he moved over to the 
other man standing against the wall. He put his hands around the 
Nazi's legs to brace himself as he moved in on the erection waiting 
for him. 

"That's it. Earn your reward." 

Mulder took the wrinkled skin of the foreskin in his mouth, nibbling 
on the end, sucking at the fluid leaking out of it. He knew that if he 
did a good job, that might be the only service he would have to 
provide today. He refused to think about the faint twinge of 
disappointment that ran through him at the thought. 

Krycek sighed as Mulder pulled the foreskin back and licked the 
sensitive head. He teased the slit with the tip of his tongue, gaining 
satisfied moans from above. He then took a bit of the large member in 
his mouth, sucking on the tip; inch by inch he swallowed Krycek until 
he felt the hairs at his groin tickle his nose. 

Krycek threaded his fingers through Mulder's short hair. "My little 
Hund, mein schoener kleiner Hund." 

Mulder sucked on the large cock moving in and out of his mouth. Oh 
god, he was getting hard. He knew he would get hard. He still could 
not believe he could he get aroused from doing this. How? He brought 
his hand up to caress Krycek's balls in the heavy sac that hung below 
it, wanting this over quickly. His strategy worked as he felt them 
tighten in his hand. Krycek let out a loud groan as he emptied himself 
into Mulder's mouth and down his throat. Mulder licked the last 
remaining drops from the Nazi before sitting back on his haunches. 

"Come here, let me taste you," Krycek said as he brought Mulder up to 
face him. He kissed him, his tongue probing the hot interior, tasting 
his own cum. He could feel Mulder's burgeoning erection press into his 
thigh. He pulled away and looked into the American's eyes. 

"You have earned your reward, Lt. Mulder. Come, sit with me, and we 
will have our cigarette." 

Mulder sat on the cot while Krycek fished in his pockets. Mulder heard 
the familiar strike and sizzle of a match igniting, the smell of 
sulfur, then the familiar scent of Virginia tobacco burning. 

Krycek turned around and exhaled. He could see Mulder practically 
salivating over the cigarette. He sat down beside his captive before 
taking another drag and passed the cigarette to Mulder. 

Mulder took the slim object from Krycek and brought it to his lips. He 
took a small drag then inhaled. He closed his eyes as the wisps of 
smoke ran down his lungs and out again as he exhaled. He took a larger 
drag and inhaled again before passing the cigarette back to Krycek. 
His lungs filled with the smoke, burning the lining, feeling so good. 
His head swam as he exhaled, the smoke billowing up and around the 
light bulb in the ceiling. His cock twitched. 

Silently, they smoked the cigarette, each man passing it back and 
forth until it was a small butt, which Krycek stamped out before 
returning it to his pocket. He turned to face Mulder. 

"How would you like another one?" 

Mulder remained silent. 

"How would you like another cigarette, Lieutenant? This one would be 
your very own. I would even leave you in peace while you smoked it." 

Mulder licked his lips, tasting the nicotine that had deposited itself 
there. 

"What would I have to do?" Mulder said, knowing full well what the 
price would be. 

"I am going to fuck you." 

"What if I don't want to?" 

"Then you don't get your cigarette. Either way, I am fucking you. Tell 
you what, Lt. Mulder, I will make you a deal. If you come, you may 
have it." 

Mulder looked up at the other man. Why had his cock suddenly hardened? 
Why did thinking about being with this man arouse him this much? 
Krycek's cock had hardened again as well, the purple head peeking 
through the foreskin. 

"Stand." Krycek cupped Mulder's chin in his hand and brought him up to 
face him again. He kissed him one more time before turning him to face 
the wall. 

Mulder braced himself against the wall with his hands as he felt 
Krycek press up behind him. 

"Spread your legs, wide." 

Mulder complied, his cock now throbbing with anticipation. He gasped 
as one of Krycek's fingers entered him, stretching him as it was 
joined by another. The two fingers widened his channel enough to fit a 
third finger in. He rubbed back against them, biting his lip to keep 
from moaning out loud. 

Krycek smiled as the American shuddered before him. He wanted him to 
gain his reward. He liked rewarding his captive; every time he did, it 
got easier and easier to fuck him. Finally, Mulder let out a moan. 
Yes, that's what he was waiting for. 

Krycek reached around to feel Mulder's cock dripping streams of 
pre-cum. He gathered as much as he could and slicked his cock up with 
that, his own pre-cum and some saliva. 

Mulder gasped as Krycek entered him. This was the feeling he relished 
the most, the initial penetration. So sweet and painful at the same 
time. Slowly he was filled until he could feel the other man's hot 
breath on his neck. His cock was throbbing, he was sweating. It amazed 
him how good this felt. 

Krycek wrapped his arms around Mulder, caressing his torso before 
settling down on his hips. He moved in and out of the American with 
ease. Mulder gasped as Krycek leaned forward and nuzzled the back of 
his neck, licking a small cut that was there. The smell of this man 
made him want him all the more. He quickened his pace and reached up 
to pinch one of Mulder's nipples again. 

Krycek's cock dragged across Mulder's prostate with every stroke, 
bringing tiny shudders to his body. His nipples were being pinched and 
caressed to extreme hardness. He now got the challenge. The Nazi 
wasn't going to touch his cock! Mulder moaned as much out of 
disappointment as of pleasure. He had to come, he wanted that 
cigarette. Mulder closed his eyes and focused all his energy on the 
good feelings that came from this. He was moaning and breathing 
heavily now as the Nazi thrust into him. He had to come, he needed to 
come. Mulder thrust back to greet the other man's hips, //oh god, yes, 
just a little more, just a little...// 

Krycek's eyes rolled back in his head as bright lights went off behind 
them. He could feel Mulder's ass clench on his cock as he came, 
milking him of all his fluid. He gave a little smile as he rested his 
head on Mulder's shoulder. He knew he would come. With a reward 
dangling in front of him, Lt. Mulder always came. He felt Mulder 
shudder again as the final stages of the orgasm ran through his body. 
He liked having Lt. Mulder as a prisoner, and as long as the war 
lasted, he would be his. 

  



Chapter 4: Twist of Fate 

Fox Mulder had been in custody for just over two weeks now. Shot down 
behind enemy lines, he was a prisoner at SS headquarters. Every day he 
was interrogated; every day he kept his mouth shut. Every day he was 
forced to perform sexual acts on Commandant Krycek; every day he 
enjoyed it a little bit more. 

The shackles and chains that bound him had built up welts, bruises and 
scabs along his wrists and ankles. He was still chained every day 
after the Commandant left him naked and trembling from another 
session. This was made a little more bearable by a cot and a blanket. 
For being such a good cocksucker, he was granted food, once a day, in 
the morning. 

Krycek still beat him relentlessly, trying to get Mulder to tell him 
about the bombing raids, but he could not. He would never tell him. If 
he did, the beatings and sex would stop. He did not want to lose the 
human contact of Krycek's body. It made this incarceration bearable. 

The heavy door to the cell swung open with its familiar clang. It was 
one of the guards bringing his daily meal of bread, water and a weak 
broth. He set the tray down on the shelf that jutted out of the wall 
and proceeded to unshackle Mulder. 

"Don't try anything, Lt. Mulder. There is another guard outside that 
will shoot you in your pretty little face if you do." 

The guard put the tray on the cot beside Mulder. Mulder remained 
silent, rubbing his wrists and ankles, pins and needles shooting 
through his feet and hands. 

The guard lingered. He was to watch him eat then take the tray, lest 
Mulder ambush the Commandant with it later. 

Mulder started to eat the food quickly. He knew from past experience 
that if the guard was ready to go and the food was not eaten, it would 
be taken away. Hungrily, he chewed the meager slice of bread, 
alternating with sips from the broth and water. 

"You are lucky, Lt. Mulder, to be a special prisoner of the Third 
Reich." 

Mulder looked up at the guard over his bowl of broth. He remained 
silent, but the guard continued. 

"For such a pretty boy, you would be dead for sure in the camps. Or 
raped. We do not tolerate impurities like homosexuality here. A firing 
squad would be a fit punishment for the likes of people like that. In 
the kidneys or bowels. A nice, slow death. From the Private in the 
trenches to the Fuehrer, it is not tolerated. Ever. That is why they 
get the pink triangle. To single them out." 

Mulder shoved the last piece of bread in his mouth and washed it down 
with the tiny sip of water that remained in the tin cup. He still said 
nothing. 

The guard picked up the tray and put it on the shelf. He kept an eye 
on Mulder as he turned to re-shackle him. Mulder was already lying 
down on his cot, blanket over him, arms over his head, feet stretched 
out, awaiting the chains. The guard bound Mulder again, picked up the 
tray and left. 

A smile crossed Mulder's face. He now had a bargaining tool. It was 
obvious that no one knew what Krycek did to him. If anyone did find 
out, he would be disgraced, stripped of his rank and shot. 

  

  

  



Commandant Krycek was pissed off. Seething as a matter of fact. That 
American fuck did not tell him about the bombings that killed many in 
Hamburg last night. Krycek was dragged from his bed at two in the 
morning by his superiors, demanding to know how this happened, why had 
he not extracted the information from Lt. Mulder? Being screamed at 
for two hours by your superiors while standing at attention in the 
middle of the night was not a happy occurrence. 

Krycek wanted to come over right away and beat Lt. Mulder senseless, 
but he was called to an emergency meeting by the Fuehrer. Promises of 
victory were shouted, a strong Germany would rise above the rest of 
the world. Krycek knew this was not true. The Americans were 
advancing; the Russians had recaptured much of the territory that he 
himself had stolen from them. The writing was on the wall, and it 
seemed that only Krycek could see it. He was a soldier, a leader, a 
fighter, and he knew when a fight was going to be lost. 

Running on just a few hours sleep, he left the meeting about 11:00 
a.m. and went over to the prison to see Mulder. He stomped down the 
hallway to Mulder's cell, screaming at one of the guards to open the 
door, his riding crop at the ready. 

The guard trembled as he fumbled with the keys. He had heard many 
stories about Commandant Krycek and did not want to be on the 
receiving end of that crop. 

"Give me those, you clumsy fool." Krycek snatched the key ring from 
the guard and opened it himself. He flung the door open to see Mulder, 
lying in comfort on his cot with his blanket. He turned to the guard. 
"Leave us alone. I do not want anyone coming in here. Do you 
understand?" 

"Jawohl, Herr Commandant." The guard raised his arm in salute and 
scurried back to his post. Krycek did not return the salute. 

Krycek slammed the door behind him and stood there for a second. He 
was seething. He took the two steps to Mulder's cot and ripped the 
blanket off him. As for the past couple of days, Mulder was hard and 
waiting for him. That, however, was going to have to wait. The crop 
came down on Mulder's stomach, leaving a red welt. 

Mulder cried out in pain. 

Krycek's eyes narrowed. He unshackled Mulder, who pressed himself into 
a ball in the corner of the cell. Krycek overturned the cot in a rage, 
kicking it before turning his attention to Mulder. He took a deep 
breath before striking him over and over with the crop. 

"You fucking American dog. You little piece of shit! You knew they 
were going to bomb Hamburg. You knew it, and you did not tell me! 
After all I did for you. You little fuck! I should just kill you." 

"Stop! Stop!" 

"What? Dogs cannot speak! Shut up until I tell you to speak!" A flood 
of expletives in German ran out of his mouth as he beat Mulder. 

"Stop it! Stop or I'll tell them. I'll tell them you're a homosexual." 


Krycek's hand was raised, about to bring another blow to Mulder. He 
was sweating and breathing heavily. His face was red, the vein in his 
neck stood out, throbbing with his pulse. 

"What?" 

"If you don't stop beating me, I will tell the guards what you do to 
me." Mulder winced in pain. He had scratches, welts and cuts all over 
his body, especially on his hands and arms, where he tried to block 
the blows. 

Krycek sat down on the floor in front of Mulder. "You are lying." 

"I'll do it. I want you to let me go, or I'll fucking do it." Mulder 
leaned his head back against the brick wall. Krycek's eyes showed a 
glimmer of fear. 

"You know it will destroy you. You will be sent to a camp with a pink 
triangle sewn on your clothes, available to be raped or worse. That 
would be the upside. The downside is that your SS cronies will beat 
you, torture you and leave you to die a slow and painful death." 

Krycek let the riding crop drop to the floor and put his head in his 
hands. "I cannot." 

"Yes, you can! You run this prison, you can tell them to let me go. Do 
it or I'll blow the whistle on you!" 

"I cannot. They will kill you, or worse. Have you ever seen someone 
shot in the spine as they are running away? If you get them just 
right, they are paralyzed but still alive. Then they are thrown in a 
mass grave to die, smothered by corpses." 

A shock ran through Mulder. These people were sick. All of them, sick 
fucking bastards. Krycek did have a point though. What good was escape 
if he wound up dead? Mulder had another idea. 

"Take your clothes off." 

Krycek looked up at his prisoner. His mouth watered at the blood from 
the cuts running down his arms to drip on the floor. 

"Didn't you hear me? Undress! I will call the guards if you don't." 

Krycek stood and started removing his clothing. 

"Leave the boots off, I want you completely naked." 

Krycek removed the last of the clothing and was pushed down on all 
fours by Mulder. He panicked as he felt Mulder's large erection tease 
his small opening. No preparation, no lubrication. "Wait!" 

"No. You are going to know what it feels like, you Nazi pig!" Mulder 
grabbed the hair on the top of Krycek's head and pulled it for 
emphasis. He pushed his cock in the tight opening, forcing it wider. 

Krycek cried out in pain. This hurt, a lot. He could not do anything, 
the strength seemed to leave his body as Mulder forced his way inside 
of him. Krycek was trembling, his arms gave out and his head went down 
to rest on the floor. Ass high in the air, face down, the ultimate 
position of submission. 

Mulder started thrusting in and out of Krycek, wanting him to feel 
every stroke down to his core. "You are a fucking pig, all of you are 
pigs. You all have this sick, twisted fantasy of killing and torturing 
innocent people. How does it feel, huh? How does it fucking feel to be 
on the receiving end for once?" Mulder slammed into Krycek, sweat 
forming on his brow. 

Krycek was biting his lip to hold back whimpers of pain. Tears welled 
up in his eyes. He kept silent, lest he beg a prisoner to stop. One 
thing he would never, ever do was beg. 

Finally, Mulder came with a cry into the Nazi, milking his cock of the 
last drops before pulling out and shoving Krycek down on the floor. A 
trickle of blood ran down one of Krycek's legs. He noticed he did not 
come. 

"Get dressed and get the fuck out! I want out of this cell; I want out 
of this prison; I don't care what you have to do, just do it. I know 
you have POW camps for Americans. Put me there, with my own people!" 

Krycek stood up and made his way over to his clothing that hung on the 
pegs on the wall. His legs were shaking. He did not want to meet the 
gaze of the other man. Quickly, he dressed, picked up the riding crop 
and stood before his prisoner, his eyes still averted from Mulder's 
gaze. 

"I will not bother you again. I will transfer you to a stalag 
tomorrow." He knew that another long session of yelling from his 
superiors would follow, but he did not care. He just wanted to be rid 
of this man. This man who nearly destroyed him with mere words. He 
turned and opened the door to leave. 

"Wait!" A thought suddenly crossed Mulder's mind. If Krycek walked 
through that door, it would all be over! This would be the last time 
he saw Krycek. No more tiny bits of affection, no more sex, no more 
conversations. He would be a number in a camp, fighting for scraps of 
food, for his life. Mulder panicked. 

"Don't go." 

Krycek stopped in his tracks. He turned to find Mulder standing behind 
him. Mulder reached out and placed his hand on his arm. 

"Stay. Please." 

Krycek closed the door gently. He finally looked into Mulder's 
tear-filled eyes. 

"Don't go," Mulder whispered as he leaned forward to hug Krycek. 
"Don't leave me. I won't tell, I won't tell. I'm sorry. Don't leave me 
alone." He was sobbing now, clinging to Krycek for dear life. "I won't 
tell, I'll never tell, please don't leave me." 

Mulder sank to the floor and started licking Krycek's boots. 

Krycek's jaw dropped. What the hell was going on here? Did Mulder 
actually care for him? Had he gone mad? He looked down at the naked 
man clinging to his legs, licking his boots. He reached down and 
brought Mulder up to face him. 

"You do this now? After what you just did to me?" His fingers closed 
around Mulder's neck and shoved him against the wall. "You raped me." 

"I'm sorry," Mulder squeaked through the hand around his throat. 

"You made me bleed. You hurt me." Krycek shoved Mulder down to the 
ground. 

Mulder cried out in pain as his ankle twisted. A small snap was heard. 


Krycek reached down and grabbed the injured limb, wrenching it so 
Mulder would hurt some more, eliciting another horrific cry. "You are 
in more trouble than you know, my Lieutenant." He then smacked Mulder 
across the face, sending him flying. He grabbed Mulder by the hair. 
"We will have no more of this bullshit! You belong to me! Is that 
clear?" 

"Y-y-y-yes." 

"Say it!" 

"I belong to you." 

"Good." Krycek let a brief smile cross his face before a leer replaced 
it. He stood over Mulder who was trembling. "Now. Fix the cot! Bring 
this place to order!" Krycek yelled as he went to undress himself 
again. 

Mulder tried to work fast to right the cot and spread the blanket on 
it. He found it hard with his injured ankle, which was surely broken. 

"On all fours, Lieutenant." 

Mulder obeyed his captor. The anticipation of what was to happen next 
shot adrenaline through his veins. His cock was starting to harden, 
and his nipples stiffened. 

Krycek roughly thrust a finger into Mulder, working it in and out, 
watching the opening get wider and wider until a second finger joined 
it. 

"You have angered me, Lt. Mulder. You should know better than to get 
me angry. I have a reputation for being very hard on people, and I 
make no exceptions." 

A third finger was added to Krycek's teasing. He smiled as Mulder let 
out a small moan and started gyrating against his fingers. 

"Now. I am going to fuck you, but you may not come. I am not going to 
touch you. You are not going to touch yourself. Is that clear?" 

"Yes," Mulder whimpered. 

"Good." Krycek spat on his hands liberally, lubricating his cock as 
much as he could before he started to enter Mulder. He briefly 
considered taking the American dry as he had done to Krycek only a few 
minutes earlier, but it would be harder for Mulder to hold back his 
orgasm if he was enjoying it. 

Mulder sucked in his breath. The keen sense of pleasure masked the 
pain in his ankle. He held back, as Krycek had commanded him, angling 
his ass so Krycek would not strike his prostate. Krycek forced him 
back into position so that he could hit that pleasure point, only 
releasing him when Mulder's desperate whimpers told him he would not 
be able to hold back any longer. 

"You have such a sweet ass, Lt. Mulder. Your ass belongs to me. You 
remember that when I am fucking you." 

Alex had a hand on each of Mulder's hips, thrusting back and forth. He 
was sweating again, every stroke bringing him closer to his orgasm. He 
could not resist and bent over Mulder, licking the smooth skin, 
drinking in his scent. There were a few cuts on Mulder's back that 
Krycek licked before kneeling upright again. He quickened his pace, 
pumping hard into Mulder, bringing his hips to meet his thrusts. He 
came with a cry and a groan as he collapsed on the man under him. They 
were joined for a few seconds before Krycek removed himself from 
Mulder's ass. 

Krycek then went over and sat on the cot, reaching over to get his 
handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe off his cock. 

Mulder sat on the floor, his erection throbbing, he could feel his 
balls begging for release. 

Krycek looked at Mulder. His ankle was quite swollen and turning 
purple; the shackles would never fit over it now. "Stand," he 
commanded. 

Mulder complied, but he could not put any weight on the ankle and 
instead, leaned back against the wall. 

"You make a very pretty picture, Lt. Mulder. Your cock is very pretty 
as well. Now. I want you to pleasure yourself, and when you are done, 
you may lay beside me. But! Only if you do a good job. Only if I enjoy 
it as much as you do. If I do not, you will stand there until I am 
satisfied." 

Mulder closed his eyes and swallowed. He could do this. He opened his 
eyes again and looked at Krycek sitting on his cot. His eyes seemed to 
glow in the dim light of the cell. He grabbed onto his cock and 
started gently stroking it. His other hand ran up and lightly caressed 
his chest, pinching a nipple. He gasped as he continued to look into 
those icy green eyes. His hand on his cock gripped tighter, his thumb 
spreading the pre-cum around. He pinched a nipple again, making 
himself moan out loud. 

Krycek's cock reacted to the moan. He could feel it stir and harden. 
He would have to make sure Lt. Mulder relieved him again before he 
left. 

Mulder's hand was pumping fast on his cock, his eyes were closed, and 
his lips were parted slightly. The hand that had been pinching his 
nipples was now lower down, fondling his balls. Suddenly, he gasped 
and moaned as he came onto the floor in front of him. He milked his 
cock of the last remaining drops before opening his eyes. 

Krycek was hard again after that display. He motioned for Mulder to 
come to him. He then licked a drop of cum off of the tip of Mulder's 
softening cock before bringing him down to lie beside him on the cot. 

There was not much room, but Mulder was grateful for the contact. 
Krycek was so warm, like a furnace was glowing inside somewhere. He 
snuggled down into the shoulder before him as a strong arm came around 
to caress his hair. 

"I will tell the guards not to shackle your swollen ankle." 

Mulder kissed Krycek's shoulder. "Thank you." 

Krycek smiled. It had only taken two weeks to break this man, to make 
him feel that he could not live without him. Now, if he could only get 
him out of this prison and into his quarters, he would be able to 
amuse himself with the pretty American whenever he wanted. 

Mulder's kisses moved down from Krycek's shoulder to a nipple. He 
latched onto it, sucking and teasing it to complete hardness. 

Krycek sucked in his breath; Lt. Mulder was now instigating sex. Oh 
yes, he had him completely. 

Mulder moved down Krycek's abdomen, sucking and nipping at the skin. 
He then moved on to the erection that was bobbing in the air. He 
wrapped his lips around the head and moved down, quickly and 
efficiently bringing his captor to orgasm. 

Krycek closed his eyes and wove his fingers through Mulder's hair as 
he felt his balls release their fluid. Mulder's mouth was quite 
proficient at this activity. 

Mulder licked Krycek clean before moving back up to lie beside him, 
kissing him, sharing his own taste with him. He then settled down 
beside him, feeling Krycek's arms come around him again. 

Krycek held him for a few minutes before speaking. "I have to go now, 
Lt. Mulder." He rose and began getting dressed. 

Mulder continued to lie on the cot, soaking in the warmth Krycek left 
behind. 

When he was fully dressed, Krycek crouched before the cot. "Do we 
understand each other? There will be no more of what happened today. 
You belong to me now." 

"Yes," Mulder whispered. 

Krycek turned Mulder's head to meet his gaze. "Good. I will see you 
tomorrow then." He let Mulder's head drop back to the cot, where he 
instinctively curled up into a little ball. Krycek placed the blanket 
over his captive before turning and leaving the cell. 

Mulder lay motionless on his cot, watching the door, waiting for 
Krycek to come back to him. Only when the other man was with him, 
telling him what to do, did he feel complete now. 

  



Chapter 5: Testing the Limits 

Commandant Krycek was entering his fourth week of walking down this 
corridor to Lt. Mulder's cell. He was sick of this prison, sick of the 
people, sick of this war. He wanted Lt. Mulder out of here and in his 
quarters so he could see him, touch him, whenever he wanted, not just 
for an hour a day. He had a plan, but it had taken a week of dropping 
hints to get the wheels slowly turning. It would not be easy. Now it 
was all a matter of convincing his superiors that Mulder should be 
released. He had to convince them that it would be easier to keep an 
eye on Mulder and try to extract information from him if he was 
working for Krycek directly in his house. 

Krycek reached the door and waited for the guard to open it for him 
before stepping through. It shut behind him with the familiar clang. 

Mulder was crying when Krycek entered his cell. Sobbing, actually. 
Krycek's eyes narrowed. //What have those idiots done to him now?// He 
thought of the guards and their incompetence of late. //Maybe they 
will like the Eastern Front better than here.// 

He sat down beside Mulder who was shackled to his cot. "What is it? 
What is the matter?" Before he could stop himself, his gloved hand 
reached out and stroked Mulder's hair. 

"It hurts. It hurts so much." 

"What hurts?" 

"My ankle. They shackled my ankle." 

Krycek pulled the blanket back revealing Mulder's swollen, almost 
purple ankle. They had really done a job on it, possibly re-broken it. 
Krycek's face grew red. //Those stupid guards! Eastern Front - they're 
going to fucking Siberia!// He stood up, ready to go out the door and 
scream at them, when a thought crossed his mind. He sat back down 
beside Mulder, his anger subsiding for a second as he leaned over and 
whispered in his ear. 

"Lt. Mulder, I want to take you out of this place. How would you like 
that?" 

Mulder nodded, the tears still flowing. 

"I need you to endure that shackle for another hour or so, do you 
think you can do that?" 

"It hurts so much," Mulder sobbed. 

"I am going to bring two men back with me. I need you to be quiet, not 
say one word no matter what happens or what I say. After they come 
here, then we will be able to leave if you do exactly as I've told 
you." He turned Mulder's head so his gaze met his own. "Not one word. 
They will shoot you if you speak. But if you trust me and remain 
silent, I will be able to take you out of here and bring you to live 
in my home." 

"I'll be quiet." 

"Good. Now, stop crying and I will see you soon." 

Krycek rearranged the blanket over Mulder again before leaving the 
cell. He strode past the guards, who stood at attention and saluted as 
he went by. He returned their salute then went out the door. 
//Idioten. You'd better pray you get shot before the cold kills you. 
Siberia can be a very hard place to tolerate.// 

  

  

  



An hour later, Krycek returned to Mulder's cell with two other men, 
just as he said. A wave of fear washed over him as he saw their faces, 
the hatred burning in their eyes. One of them was a short man with a 
pointy nose and dark hair. The other was tall and broad, with glasses. 
The man with the glasses licked his lips as he looked at him. Mulder 
stopped a shiver that was about to run up his spine. He wanted out of 
here and would do anything to help Krycek. He kept his promise and 
said nothing as Krycek started speaking about him. 

"This is Lt. Mulder, United States Air Force. He has been with us for 
a month now, enjoying our usual 'hospitality'. Still, he refuses to 
give us any information. It is clear that by the time he speaks, 
anything he knows will be long out of date. It is pointless to keep 
him here any longer. I would say he's ready to be transferred 
immediately." 

The man with the pointy nose spoke. "He has given nothing, Krycek? 
Your reputation has suffered a blow with this one." He grabbed the 
corner of the blanket and tossed it aside. "He still has a lot of meat 
on his bones. He will work out fine at one of the Stalags; he looks 
strong." 

"Those idiots!" Krycek bellowed. 

"What? What is the problem?" the man with the glasses asked. 

"His ankle. He twisted it over a week ago. I told those stupid guards 
not to shackle it so he could heal properly and be sent to a camp. 
Look at it! Gangrene will set in soon, it will probably have to be 
amputated. He is useless now." 

"I agree." The pointy-nosed man took out his gun and held it to 
Mulder's head. "We do not need him anymore." 

Panic washed through Mulder as he felt the barrel of the gun press 
into his skin. He didn't want to die this way, chained, helpless. He 
started breathing heavily, only the memory of Krycek telling him to 
trust him keeping him silent. 

"Put the gun down, Spender," Krycek said, remaining calm. "I meant he 
is useless in a camp. I will take him." 

Spender looked at Krycek suspiciously before putting his gun away. 

"What do you mean you will take him?" the man in the glasses said. 

"As I have been telling you for the past week, I need a new servant. 
Lt. Mulder can still hobble around and serve me." He took the men 
aside and lowered his voice. "I have surely broken this man, yet he 
remains mute. If I can get him to trust me, perhaps he will reveal his 
secrets. If he opens up to me, it will seem like he is talking to a 
friend, not an enemy." 

The man with the glasses smiled. "Very clever, Krycek, I can see your 
point. If he does not open up, then you can just shoot him, like you 
did your other servants." 

Spender laughed, "Krycek, you have to learn to be more patient with 
your staff; you cannot keep killing them when they displease you. 
Instead of sending the Jewish vermin to the camps, we should just give 
them to you as servants. They would die just as quickly." He and the 
tall man laughed at the joke. 

"How many groundspeople have you been through? Six, or seven?" The man 
in the glasses grinned. 

"Three. This fourth one is not any better." 

"Are you sure you want this American dog, Krycek? We can send him to 
one of the KZ camps and dispose of him quickly and quietly. No one 
will know if he is American, Jew, Pole or Czech." 

"No. I can use him. I am sure that he will tell me his secrets soon 
enough. If not me, then one of my other staff. You know how servants 
gossip." 

"Very well, you may take this Mulder to your house. I would keep an 
eye on him though; don't let him out of your sight for too long." The 
man in the glasses took another look at Mulder before turning away. 

Mulder watched as the three men left the cell together. He breathed a 
sigh of relief, thanking god they were gone and he was still alive. A 
moment later, Krycek returned with a bundle of clothes and a crutch. 

"Lt. Mulder, you will come to live with me now," Krycek said as he 
unshackled him from the cot. "Here, put these on quickly so we can get 
out of here." He laid the bundle of clothes on the cot beside Mulder. 

Mulder's ankle was throbbing so badly he didn't know how he was going 
to walk. Quickly, he put on the garments Krycek gave him. They were 
thin cotton pants and a shirt, not unlike pajamas. Only one boot fit; 
the other could not fit over the swelling in his foot, so he covered 
it with the sock only. 

Krycek gave him the crutch to put under his armpit since he wouldn't 
be able to help Mulder at all when anyone else could see them. He 
glanced at the blanket but left it lying on the cot, saying "I'm sorry 
I can't let you take the blanket to keep warm. It's very cold out, but 
it would be noticed if I allowed you that." Then Krycek put his hands 
on Mulder's shoulders and met his gaze. "Lt. Mulder, you are still my 
prisoner, and I must treat you as such. Do not say one word until we 
get to my house, do you understand? Your life depends on it." 

"Yes," Mulder barely whispered. 

Krycek smiled, "Good. Let's go." 

  

  

  



They managed to get to Krycek's house with limited trouble from the 
checkpoints. When the young guards at the roadblocks saw who Krycek 
was, they immediately waved him through, ignoring the passenger beside 
him. 

They turned into a driveway of a sprawling house, where a flag bearing 
the swastika hung over the front door and flapped in the wind. Snow 
was piled high around the house, but the driveway and stairs leading 
up to the house were clear. A maid, bundled against the cold, came out 
of the house to greet Krycek. 

"Ingrid, this is Mulder. He is going to be working here as my new 
assistant. Please help him up to the master bathroom. He is quite 
dirty. His ankle has been injured, so make allowances for his 
slowness." 

"I can see that, Herr Oberst. Come with me, let's get you cleaned up." 
Mulder kept his mouth shut as he was led away by the burly maid. 

Krycek went in the front door and practically flew up the stairs to 
his study. It worked, it fucking worked! He had waited almost two 
weeks to get him here, now finally they could be alone. He took his 
leather coat and hat off and hung them up before going over to his 
desk to check what had come in the post. There was a knock on the 
door. 

"Enter." 

"Sturmbahnfuehrer Krycek, the American is in the bath. I have left 
some clothes for him." 

"Thank you, Ingrid. I would like everyone to leave us alone for a few 
hours. I need to go over a few things with Mulder, tell him the rules 
of the house, what his duties will be and how he will be punished if 
he does not perform properly. I would like to have supper in here 
about seven. For both of us. I do not want to stop his training for a 
meal. We shall talk and eat at the same time." 

"Yes, sir." Ingrid turned and left. 

Krycek read the one piece of correspondence, then decided to check in 
on his new servant. A smile passed over Krycek's lips as he walked 
down the hall to his bedroom. There was a door leading to the master 
bath off of the bedroom, so he would not be seen. He locked the door 
to the bedroom before going towards the door leading to the bath. 
Slowly he opened the door and looked inside. Mulder was lounging in 
the bathtub, a look of contentment on his face. //He is beautiful, 
even more so when he is relaxed.// Krycek took a step into the room. 

Mulder sat up with a start and looked fearfully at the person who 
entered the room. Had they come to take him back to prison? He knew 
this was too good to be true. 

"Calm down, Mulder," Krycek said. He walked over to the door leading 
to the hallway and locked it from the inside. He also did the same to 
the door leading to the bedroom, which he then leaned back against. 
"Are you enjoying your bath?" 

"Yes," Mulder barely whispered. 

"It's all right, you can talk. You are in my home now." 

"I didn't realize how dirty I was." Mulder said as he looked down in 
embarrassment at the dark gray water in the tub. How had Krycek been 
able to stand to touch him? 

"Yes, well it has been awhile, hasn't it? Why don't you drain the tub 
and wash again. The water has surely cooled by now." 

Mulder looked at the man standing before him. Such a change from the 
prison. The riding crop was gone, and although the fierceness in his 
eyes was still there, so was a gentleness. He pulled the plug, 
watching as the dirty water swirled out and down the drain. 

He turned the tap on to refill the tub, but Krycek reached over and 
turned it off. "Here, soap yourself up first." Krycek handed Mulder a 
bar of sweet-smelling soap which he used to lather his body and hair. 
Krycek then filled a large pitcher with water and poured it over 
Mulder's head, rinsing the soap away. He did this until the water 
rinsed clean. Then Krycek put the plug back in the tub and filled it 
again with hot water. 

Krycek removed his clothes, draping them over a chair that was in the 
corner of the large bathroom. The window in the bathroom was covered 
by a heavy black curtain, so the only light was a warm glow that came 
from the light fixture above. He got in behind Mulder and ran his legs 
down the length of the large tub. He pulled Mulder back against him 
and wrapped his arms around him. 

"I have waited a long time for this," Krycek said as he kissed 
Mulder's shoulder. The warmth of the water and closeness of the other 
man set his cock in motion, his erection starting to jut into Mulder's 
buttocks. He held Mulder tighter, relishing the sensation of their 
wet, naked skin against each other. 

Mulder leaned back against Krycek and closed his eyes. He had also 
missed this, human contact without guards or shackles or cold cement 
floors. He settled in for a few minutes, his head against Krycek's 
shoulder. 

"I want you to wash me," Krycek said with a kiss to the top of 
Mulder's head. 

Mulder opened his eyes and sat up, then turned himself around to face 
Krycek. 

"There is a sponge in a basin behind you; use it to wash me." Krycek's 
eyes were burning a bright green, full of lust. 

Mulder took the sponge and held it in the water to wet and soften it 
before leaning forward and gently running it down Krycek's chest and 
belly, down to the hardness visible below the water. His heart was 
starting to pound, and his own cock was growing erect. He ran the 
sponge down the strong legs and back up again to where he started on 
his chest. He paid particular attention to the stiff nipples, stroking 
them with the nubby sponge until Krycek gasped in pleasure, then moved 
on. While Mulder was washing Krycek's arms, he noticed he was shaking. 


Krycek knelt in the tub, eye to eye with Mulder. He reached out and 
smoothed the lock of hair back that had fallen onto his forehead. He 
then leaned in and kissed him, tenderly. Mulder's lips were soft and 
full, his tongue slid past them easily, tasting the other man. He 
brought an arm around Mulder's waist, the other going around his back, 
his hand pushing the two of them closer together. 

Mulder gasped as Krycek pulled away and started kissing down his neck. 
He was still shaking; the feel of this man being gentle with him was 
almost too much to bear. 

"Yes, I've been waiting a long time to get you alone," Krycek 
whispered before latching onto one of Mulder's nipples. He nibbled 
around the areola before licking and sucking on the hardening nub. 
Slowly he moved across to Mulder's other nipple and proceeded to bring 
that one to hardness as well. 

Mulder moaned and leaned back in the tub, Krycek leaning with him. He 
hadn't felt tenderness in so long, he'd almost forgotten how good it 
was. 

"Sit on the edge of the tub," Krycek commanded, softly. 

Mulder slowly maneuvered himself up to sit on the thin ledge of the 
tub. He put his hands down beside his buttocks to steady himself. 

Krycek knelt in the cooling water of the bath and spread Mulder's legs 
to reveal his dripping, throbbing erection. He looked up at Mulder's 
eyes, where the pupils were dilated so much that a thin rim of 
blue-green was the only thing that could be seen. 

Mulder was breathing hard, the anticipation of knowing what was coming 
next shooting another load of precum to glisten at the top of his 
cock. His nails dug into the side of the tub as Krycek's tongue slowly 
licked around the head of his cock. A moan escaped his lips, and he 
closed his eyes. 

Krycek ran his tongue down the length of Mulder's cock to his balls. 
He pressed his face between Mulder's legs, sucking the drops of water 
dripping from the heavy sac. 

Mulder whimpered and gripped the tub harder, his knuckles showing 
white. 

Krycek took Mulder's cock in his mouth, something he hadn't done since 
the first time they were together in Mulder's cell. The day he first 
raped him. This was not rape. Not now. Now it was a need for someone 
to be close to, to touch, for simple human contact in the midst of all 
the suffering that this war brought everyone. 

Mulder tried in vain to hold on, but after a few minutes of Krycek 
licking and sucking him, he came with a cry into his mouth. His knees 
felt weak as Krycek lapped up the last of the cum, sitting back to 
stare at Mulder with a grin on his face. Mulder slid down into the 
water again before leaning over to kiss the German on the mouth. 

"You liked that, hmmm? Too bad we do not have time for more right 
now." 

"What do you mean?" 

"We have been in here for a long time. We have turned into prunes!" 
Krycek held up his hand and showed Mulder his wrinkled fingers, then 
smiled. "Come, all things must come to an end." 

Krycek stood, then got out of the bath. He dried himself off before 
donning a dressing gown. He then turned to Mulder and extended his 
hand to help him out of the tub. He gave Mulder a towel and watched 
him dry himself off before offering him a dressing gown of his own. 

Mulder put it on. It was silk and so soft, the softest thing he had 
ever felt in his life. 

Krycek unlocked the door to the bedroom and came back to help Mulder 
with his crutch. Together they moved Mulder to a large, overstuffed 
chair in the bedroom. 

"Let's take a look at your ankle, shall we?" Krycek knelt before 
Mulder and took the battered limb into his hands. He probed the 
injured joint carefully, pleased that it was healing well despite the 
acts of those fools at the prison. The shackle had not disturbed the 
setting bones. He looked up into the American's eyes before he started 
to wrap the ankle in a thick bandage. "This will help it heal 
straight, so you will not have a permanent limp." 

Mulder was silent as he watched the bandage being wrapped around his 
foot and ankle then half way up his calf. Krycek knew what he was 
doing; Mulder had learned that same procedure in his training as well. 
Wasn't it funny how they were on opposite sides of a war, yet their 
training was so similar? 

Krycek finished, stood up and went over to a table in the corner. He 
returned with a small tablet and glass of water. He held them out to 
Mulder. 

"Here, take this." 

"What is it?" 

"It's called penicillin. For your ankle, to fight infection." 

Mulder took the small white pill and looked at it for a second before 
looking back at Krycek. 

"It's all right, take it. It's medicine. You have to take them for a 
week until I am sure your ankle is not infected." He reached out and 
stroked Mulder's cheek. "It's medicine, please take it. I would not 
give you anything that would hurt you." 

Mulder popped the pill in his mouth before washing it down with a sip 
of water. 

"Why are you being so nice to me? Why didn't you let your friend kill 
me today?" 

Krycek looked at Mulder for a few seconds before answering. "I needed 
a servant and you needed someone to serve." 

Mulder gave a small laugh but said nothing. 

Krycek looked at Mulder. He knew he could see right through him. 
Dependent or not, Mulder was not a stupid man. "Are you thirsty?" 

"No." 

"Are you hungry?" 

"No." 

"Mulder, even though you are technically my prisoner, this is my home. 
If you want something, ask." 

"I'm hungry and I'm tired." 

"You will have a proper supper tonight, with me. I do not want you to 
fraternize too much with the other servants right away until they get 
used to you. A lot of them do not like Americans and would be tempted 
to do you harm. You will stay here, on this floor, with me, to work 
with me, until I tell you otherwise. Is that clear?" 

"Yes." 

"Good. Now, I need to get dressed and attend to some matters before 
supper. There are clothes for you on the chair in the washroom. There 
is also a razor for you to shave with, unless you want to keep the 
beard." 

Mulder reached up and touched the hair on his face. He hadn't realized 
that he had grew one, but after a month of not shaving, it was 
obvious. "No, I should get rid of it." 

"It does not really suit you, I am sorry to say. There is a jar of 
salve in there for you as well, to put on your wounds from the 
shackles. It is Ingrid's grandmother's secret cream. It smells awful, 
but it works." 

Mulder shrugged and pulled the robe around him a little closer. "Thank 
you." 

"You're welcome. Now hurry, supper will be in my study very soon. It 
is just down the hallway, I will leave the door open for you." Then 
Krycek turned to get dressed. 

Mulder hobbled on his crutch to the bathroom and up to the mirror. 
This was the first time he had seen himself in a month. His eyes were 
still hazel, his hair longer, a little grayer. His face sported a 
beard which, as Krycek said, did not suit him at all. It was so 
overwhelming, looking at this stranger in the mirror. How did he get 
here, to this place, to this house on the outskirts of Berlin? He 
shook his head, then lathered up his face with the brush and soap that 
were left for him. 

After Mulder was done shaving, he rubbed the soothing salve into his 
wounds. It didn't smell that bad. Then he got dressed and followed the 
way Krycek had gone, through the bedroom and down the hallway. His 
ankle was feeling much better now from the medicine and bandage. He 
could hobble a little faster. He found the open door and walked 
through it. Here was a library full of books, a large desk and table 
with six chairs around it. The table had been set for dinner for two. 

Krycek was sitting behind the heavy desk, speaking into the telephone. 
His voice was low and his brow furrowed. He looked up at Mulder for a 
second, watching him inspect the books in the bookcases that lined the 
wall. Krycek softly put the telephone handset into the cradle and 
rubbed his forehead. He got out of his chair and walked over to 
Mulder. "There are some English books there as well, if you are 
interested." 

"Most of them are in German." 

Krycek laughed, "We are still in Germany, Lt. Mulder. You had better 
get used to this place, you will be spending a lot of time here." 

Mulder looked up at Krycek, a question in his eyes. 

"You are my assistant, this is my office. I need you to make sure this 
place is kept clean and in order. Seeing as though you cannot read 
German, the filing will have to be done by myself. I do, however, want 
you to make sure my correspondence is ready for me when I get home. 
The desk should be neat, the ink in my pen refilled, paper always 
ready. Is that clear?" 

"Yes." 

Krycek smiled. "Good." 

Mulder heard someone come in and turned quickly, his heart pounding. 
It was only Ingrid and another girl with supper. 

Silently, the women began to unload their trays onto the large table. 
Roast chicken, potatoes, pickled beets, cabbage and turnips. Mulder 
closed his mouth and swallowed. The smell of the food was heavenly. 

"Come, Mulder, sit and eat." Krycek motioned to the table. 

Mulder sat across from Krycek, who was motioning him to fill his 
plate. 

"Would you like some wine?" 

"Wine?" 

"Yes, it is Italian. There is quite a well stocked wine cellar in this 
house." 

"Sure." Mulder watched as the dark burgundy liquid filled the crystal 
glass before him. 

"It is good. Come, eat, you said you were hungry." Krycek looked over 
at Mulder who seemed bewildered by the bounty laid before them. 

"Where did you get all this food?" 

Krycek finished pouring the wine and began filling his own plate 
before he spoke. "My rank affords me some luxuries. One of them being 
good food. The other being this house, the servants, the car. Just as 
in your military, rank decrees worth." 

Mulder put a piece of chicken in his mouth. It was heavenly. Moist and 
tender, seasoned with rosemary. He closed his eyes and savored the 
taste. When he opened them, he was looking directly at Krycek, his own 
eyes sparkling in the dim light. 

"I am glad you like it. Ingrid is an accomplished cook." 

They ate in silence, drinking the wine. Mulder relished every bite, 
every sip, he hadn't had food like this in a long time. It was almost 
sexual, certainly sensual, his cock stirred and started pressing 
against the wool trousers he was wearing. 

Ingrid came back with coffee and cleared their plates. She left two 
plates containing a piece of cake each in front of them. 

"Eat the Streuselkuchen, it's quite wonderful." Krycek handed Mulder a 
china cup filled with strong coffee. 

"Whose house is this?" Mulder asked as Krycek put a forkful of cake in 
his mouth. 

Krycek swallowed before answering. "It is my house." 

"Who had it before you did? Who owned it? Before the war?" 

"I do not know, it was seized property. When I came to Berlin last 
year it was given to me. The Reich owns it, the Reich owns 
everything." Krycek continued to eat his cake. 

"You stole it. You probably stole it from a Jewish family and killed 
them, right? None of this is yours, it's someone else's. They probably 
worked very hard to acquire this wealth, and you stole it from them. 
What do you have against them, anyway? They're just people who happen 
to have a different religion." 

"I did not steal anything." Krycek put his fork down and glared at 
Mulder. "You are treading on very thin ice, Lt. Mulder. Need I remind 
you that you are still a prisoner of the Third Reich? I can have you 
back in that jail, or worse a camp, with one telephone call. I'm sure 
your comments would be extremely popular with the guards." 

Mulder's eyes grew wide; his respiration and pulse quickened. Then his 
eyes dropped to the table. //Please, don't let him send me away, let 
me stay here with him.//