TITLE: Tickle Torture
AUTHOR: Irene
DISCLAIMER: Everyone in the story belongs to 1013
Productions, Chris Carter, Fox, etc.
RATING: R
THANK YOU: To the select few who sent feedback
on "Sensitivity Training," especially
those who suggested that Scully didn't
get tortured enough last time.

SUMMARY: The title says it all. Rest assured that
this is consensual.

FEEDBACK: I_Dareya@yahoo.com

It started almost innocently, but not quite. Scully was coming by to
pick Mulder up for one of those Scully family get-togethers he loved
so much. When he didn't answer the door, she used her key and found
him stretched out on his couch, asleep.

"Come on, Mulder," she said, shaking him gently. After all these
years, she knew how to wake him up. When he grabbed a cat-nap on a
stake-out, he'd wake up promptly. When it was his turn to take over
guard-duty, again, he'd be awake at a touch. But now he was ignoring
her, pretending to be asleep.

At least he was dressed. He was wearing a gray sweater and black
jeans. He looked damn good. She tapped his shoulder but got no
response.

"Wake up, you faker," she said. Then she rubbed his tummy briskly,
and he jerked upright.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked.

"Queequeg always loved that," she said.

"Do I look like Queequeg?"

"Did I hurt you?" she asked, quite aware that she hadn't. "You sat up
so quickly."

"Of course not," he said. "Let's go."

Oh, so now he wanted to go.

"Lie down, Mulder. You seem to be having some abdominal tenderness,
and I want to make sure you don't have appendicitis."

"Stop playing doctor, Scully. I'm fine."

"You're fine? Good. Then you won't mind me checking your belly."
This was going to be so much fun.

"Scully..."

"Mulder, if it wasn't pain, what made you jerk like that?"

Mulder lay down, hoping she'd pat his belly a few times and leave him
alone. No such luck. She started out with some genuine palpations,
and even those made him stiffen and lock his jaw.

"You're guarding, Mulder. You are in pain, aren't you?"

"No," he said through clenched teeth. "Just finish up, okay?"

She worked her fingertips all around his midsection, watching him
shudder under her touch. He was holding his breath, determined not to
laugh. At last he could stand no more and grabbed her hands.

"You're finished now, aren't you?" he implored.

"Almost done. Try to relax, I can tell you're in a lot of pain," she
said. She lifted his sweater way up, and Mulder abandoned all hope of
keeping the truth from her.

"Scully, I'm not in pain. You're tickling the hell out of me. So cut
it out and we'll go."

"Nice try, Mulder," she said. "If I was tickling you, you would
laugh." She started probing his belly again, and Mulder put up with
it for a minute, laughing and writhing.

He had the cutest laugh, when he let himself go. All over the scale,
from baritone to falsetto.

Then he grabbed her hands again.

"See?" he said.

"You're faking," she said, feeling truly diabolical.
"You never told me you were ticklish."

"It's been a long time since anyone tried to tickle me," he said,
pulling his sweater back down.

"I need to confirm what you're saying," she said. She pulled his
sweater way up over his head, then gave it a twist, trapping his arms.
She climbed on top of him to hold his legs down, and found she could
control him with one hand on the sweater, and one free to poke around.

She knew he'd get loose sooner rather than later, so she gave him the
best work-out she could in the time she had. She explored for weak
spots, asking, "Does that tickle?" Then she'd return to his
underarms, and down his sides. He was so hopped up now that
everything tickled, and he was screaming her name and roaring with
laughter. His desperate attempts to get away from her took him all
over the couch, but she stayed on board like a rodeo rider.

If he wasn't so frantic, he'd escape more easily, Scully thought. This
is a good learning experience for him.

"Mulder?"

"Ahh, hahahaha, Scully, goddamn, ahahahhah..."

"Kitchy kitchy koo."

"Hahahah oh shit hahahah Sculleeee..." He broke free at last by
pulling out of his sweater. He swung his legs off the couch and
grabbed his tormenter by the hands.

For a full minute he held her still, staring into her eyes.

"How about you, G-woman?" he said at last, as he pinned her against
the couch. "How long since you were properly tickled?"

Hearing his taunting tone and feeling him overpower her sent a secret,
shameful thrill through her.

"Mulder, please let me go," she said in the smallest voice he'd ever
heard from her.

"Scully, I would never disappoint you like that. I'm going to hold
you down and tickle you until you're screaming and tears are rolling
down your face. Isn't that what you want?"

"Mulder, you can't," she said. "We have to go."

"You couldn't possibly believe I would let you get away with that," he
said.

Perhaps she should have thought of that earlier. He was bigger than
her, stronger than her, and she was almost certainly more ticklish
than he was.

He lay down on the couch next to her and scissored his legs around
hers. His arm went behind her head, pinning her right arm in place
and clasping onto the left with his hand. She struggled against him
with everything she had.

"You know, you're cute when you're helpless," he said. "Where would
you like me to tickle you?"

She blushed and struggled, but didn't answer.

She was wearing a knee-length bronze print skirt and a cream-colored
scoop-necked sweater.

"How about here?" he asked, and began to explore her legs. He started
by tracing big, loopy circles on the back of her thigh, and then his
hand migrated to behind her knee, where he used his fingertips to dig
lightly. She squirmed against him.

"You can beg me to stop, if you like," Mulder said. "I won't listen,
but it might make you feel better." And with that he launched a
light-fingered attack that wandered from her inner thighs to her knees
and back.

"Stop, Mulder, please stop!" she screamed. It didn't really tickle
that much, but it felt spidery and goose-bumpy. Her squirming and
struggling were involuntary; her body was trying to escape. And yet
it was exciting to be so totally under his control.

"I can't stop, Scully, I'm checking for leg twitches." He did stop at
this point, but only to move his hand from her legs to under her
sweater.

"Now I'm checking for spare ribs," he said, walking his fingers up and
down her rib cage. "Oh, I do believe I'm onto something."

She was over the edge, laughing and fighting, unable to think, unable
to do anything but laugh hysterically and try futilely to escape.

"I think five minutes of this should be just about right," Mulder
said. He kept marching his fingers up and down the same pathway on
her left side. He was planning to stay there as long as she continued
to respond. She had a beautiful laugh, clear as a bell, punctuated by
her screams of "Stop!" and "No!"

"I'm not going to stop, Scully, I told you that," he said. "But if
there's somewhere else you want to be tickled, I'd be happy to
accommodate you."

She thrashed and jerked against him and suddenly found herself free,
but just as suddenly she was back in his grasp; he was repositioning
the two of them, changing sides, as it were. He held both her wrists
over her head in his right hand. He was giving her a break, though.

"Hey. How are you doing?" he asked. She was breathing hard, but she
was not trying to get away. In fact she was collapsing into him,
pushing herself against his body.

He was breathing hard too. The sight of her helpless gyrations and
the feel of her wriggling against him was intensely pleasurable. He
started stroking her right side lightly and slowly with his left hand,
and she stiffened a bit at his touch.

"Easy, Scully, it's okay," he was saying, but at the same time he was
escalating his attack. She was starting to resist him in earnest,
really starting to writhe, when the phone rang.

Mulder was incapable of ignoring a ringing phone. He picked it up
without releasing his partner.

"Oh, Mrs. Scully... I mean Maggie... no, we just got, um, caught up in
something... we'll be along soon... Oh, too bad Bill had to leave
early, sorry we missed him... bye."

"I told you we have to go," Scully said breathlessly.

"We'll go now," Mulder agreed. "We can finish later."

Of course Scully had a major makeup disaster to repair first. Then
they went.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

This was a switch, Maggie Scully thought to herself. Dana was as
jumpy as a cat in the dog pound, and Fox looked so relaxed.

When Dana offered to wash the dishes, Fox most naturally offered to
dry, and Dana snapped at him to stay out of the kitchen. But Fox
didn't look the least bit hurt, he looked smug and content.

Several times Fox hinted that it was time for them to be leaving, and
each time Dana brushed him off. When they did finally go, and Fox
held Dana's coat for her, she had pulled it out of his hands and swung
it on without his assistance.

Father McCue had given her good advice about those two, and she
intended to keep following it.

"Don't ask," he had said. "You probably don't want to know."

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

"Mulder, you've extracted your full revenge. Can't we just call it
even?" Scully asked nervously. She parked the car in front of her
building. They were going back to her apartment to finish some work
for Monday. That was their story and they were sticking to it.

"Scully, I showed restraint and compassion. I stopped voluntarily.
What about you? How would you describe what you did to me?" He
sounded very serious.

"I probably overdid it, Mulder. I know I had you pinned down for a
while, and I could tickle you wherever I wanted, and all you could do
was laugh and squirm. You tried so hard to get away, but I was on top
of you, and you couldn't do it. And the whole time you were just
howling and struggling." Scully was getting very excited. "Of course
the more you struggled, the more I wanted to keep going."

"Would you like to do it again?" Mulder asked.

"Oh, yes, yes! Thank you, Mulder," she exclaimed, "I knew you liked
it too."

"Here's the deal. I'll let you tickle me. I won't resist--well, I'll
try not to, anyway. You keep going as long as I can stay still for
it." He watched her blush with anticipation.

"Let's go!" she said, opening her car door. She and Mulder got out of
the car and started up to her apartment.

"Here's the rest of the deal," Mulder continued. "However long I let
you do it, you have to stay still that long for me to get you back."

"Mulder, that's not a good idea. Let's just try the first part for
now, and see how it goes," Scully said. "We can decide about the
second part later." Unbelievably, she thought he might agree to this.

"No deal," said Mulder. "Let's just forget it."

Scully couldn't just forget it. She had to do it, she had to see him
thrashing and feel him struggling and hear him laughing. Whatever the
cost.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

They sat in Scully's living room, staring at each other.

"You'll get too hot in that sweater," Scully said.

"You're right. I'll take it off." Mulder pulled the sweater over his
head.

"Jeans. Tight. Uncomfortable," Scully said.

"Yeah," Mulder agreed. Scully watched, breathing hard. Mulder had to
take off his sneakers to get out of the pants. Yes! Mulder in his
underwear. Enough to quicken her heart rate even if he wasn't about
to stretch out and let her tickle him. The black boxers were made
from a soft jersey material, and the T-shirt was black too. Bulky
white gym socks. They really ruined the look.

"Socks," Scully said.

"No!" said Mulder. "The socks stay!" He even thought about slipping
his sneakers back on.

"A lot of people are self-conscious about their feet," Scully said.
It was silly to go on about his socks, she knew. She'd be able to
pull them off him easily enough once he submitted to his ordeal.

"I'm sure you can respect that," Mulder said, folding his legs
Indian-style so that he could protect his feet better.

"Oh, I'm that way myself," Scully said. "I'll wear sweat socks for my
turn too."

Mulder had no doubt in the world that he could tickle Scully's feet
through any pair of socks. But that wasn't what he wanted. When his
turn came, he wanted to be gripping her snugly around the ankle and
circling his fingertips and fingernails on the sole of her bare foot.
Then he wanted to grab the other foot and do the same thing. Well, no
big deal. Scully could put on her sweat socks, and he could just as
easily take them off. He fervently hoped, though, that she would
really let him keep his socks on.

Scully kept staring at him, and he was starting to feel like the last
jelly doughnut at the Metro Downtown Precinct House. "Scully, let's
get this over with," Mulder said at last.

"I want you to ask for it," Scully said. Her face was a little slack,
and she couldn't close her mouth all the way without getting short of
breath.

"I did, okay?" Mulder said. "I just did." But Scully shook her head.
She wanted more from him.

"Scully, please tickle me," he said.

"How much, Mulder? And how long? Do you want me to make you squeal?"
She was practically in a trance.

"That's it," said Mulder. "Just forget it." He gathered his clothes.
Scully snapped to attention.

"Come on, Mulder, it will be fine. Let's go to the bedroom," she
said. He sat there, clutching his jeans and sweater, looking very
doubtful. "Oh, come on," she coaxed him. "Maybe I won't wear those
sweat socks."

Feeling more naked than when Scully had found him freezing in the
bathtub in Rhode Island, Mulder followed her into her bedroom.

Scully had dreamed up a great way to do this. She had two stopwatches
tied to the bedposts, one on each side. Mulder had to lie on the bed,
hang on to the stopwatches, and keep the buttons pressed in. The
stopwatches would time how long he was able to do this. Scully was
hoping for at least fifteen minutes.

"Seriously, Mulder, you'd be able to relax and let yourself go more if
you'd just allow me to tie you down a bit," Scully said.

Mulder was lying on her bed with his legs apart but his arms held
tightly at his sides. He was squirming already.

"No," he said.

"You look so uncomfortable," Scully told him, fluffing the pillow
behind his head.

"I'm sort of cold," Mulder said, hoping to get his sweater back.

"You'll warm up fast, Mulder, I promise," she said. "Now, as soon as
I start, I want you to grab those stopwatches." She started at once,
merciless, full-throttle underarm tickling that made it almost
impossible for him to stretch out his arms and grab the stopwatches.
But he had to get the timers started, or else he wouldn't be credited
with his full time. He got his hands on the two stopwatches and could
hardly think to find the buttons to make them start. At last he got
them going, and Scully slowed down. She was practically laughing
herself as she worked on him, and he wanted to glare at her for her
treachery, but all he could do was smile and laugh and hang on to the
stopwatches.

"You're a ra-ahahahahha," he tried to tell her, but she kept
intensifying her attack until he had to give up. She really was a rat.

"Mulder, there's something I noticed," Scully said conversationally,
all the while making little light scratching motions over his ribs.
She was sitting cross-legged on the bed now, right next to him. When
his laughter and screams started to sound desperate, she eased up on
him, but she didn't stop. "When you were holding me down and tickling
me until tears ran down my face, you spent a lot of time working on my
legs. I bet you have ticklish legs, Mulder."

She moved down in the bed so that she was sitting even with his
thighs. She studied them intently, but her hands were up higher,
fluttering over his midsection. Mulder was starting to feel ill, but
he was determined to hold on.

"I'm going to take a chance, Mulder," she said, removing her hands
from his tummy. She wasn't even touching him now, but his eyes were
squeezed shut and he was shuddering.

"Are you okay?" she asked him. She'd felt safe letting loose on him,
since all he had to do to make it end was release the two stopwatches.
He nodded, eyes still shut.

With thumb and index finger, Scully tried a banjo-picking motion on
Mulder's inner thigh.

"No!" he roared, but he was still holding on, so she tried doing it
with both hands, traveling up and down his leg, front to back, and
especially behind his knee.

He was laughing and gasping and stiffening his legs as he forced
himself to stay still for this. He began to wonder if Scully was
right, if this would be easier to tolerate if he was tied up and
allowed to struggle instead of hold back. Not that he was willing to
find out.

His face was shiny with sweat and his hair was damp. Scully stopped
what she was doing to push his hair back from his sweaty forehead, and
he flinched from her touch.

"Mulder, why don't you let go?" Scully asked him.

"No," Mulder said. "It's not that bad. I can take it." Now that she
wasn't tickling him, he was thinking that he could use some kind of
mind control, maybe astral projection, to get through this. Leave his
body and be somewhere else while it got tortured.

Scully knew she was signing her own death sentence, giving him all
this time to recover while the stopwatches were still running. But
she waited for his breathing to slow to normal and the purple flush to
disappear from his face. She was almost done, whether he gave in or
not. She just wanted to tickle the other leg, and then his feet.
That would keep her satisfied for a long time, she thought.

"Are you ready?" she asked him.

"I am so ready," he said. He closed his eyes, telling himself he was
in a peaceful green meadow, picturing the meadow, feeling the sunshine
on his face, feeling--

HAHAHAHAHAHHAHA! Feeling an army of twitching fingers tickling him,
tickling all the sensitive places on his sensitive thigh, but
especially the one up by his groin and that really bad one behind his
knee.

Scully varied her touch, trying to find out if the lightest touch was
the best, or the slightly firmer one, which she enjoyed more. Luckily
the firmer stroke was most effective. Mulder had beautiful legs,
swimmer's legs, and all those beautiful muscles were twitching and
tensing under her fingers.

His howls and hoots were growing hoarse, and again she was concerned
about his well-being. She was going to finish up now. Enough was
enough, even if he was too macho to admit it. But she doubted if he
would ever let her do this again, and she wanted to remember
everything.

"You're really something, Mulder," she told him. "You've got nerves
of steel." She scrambled back toward the top of the bed to watch his
face as she revisited her favorite spots. Then she put one hand on
his forehead to hold it down while she vibrated a finger lazily under
his chin, back and forth from ear to ear. He snapped at her, as if he
was trying to bite her.

"Oh, you bad boy," she said, laughing at him and tickling his neck
even more. He hadn't really been trying to bite her, it was just some
atavistic impulse breaking through, probably due to the stress of this
crazy game. It was time to bring this to a close.

"Hold on tight," she said, and she moved down to the end of the bed
and sat herself on Mulder's legs, facing his feet.

Such nice white socks. They were probably brand new. It would be fun
to work each one off gradually, but she didn't think she'd have that
luxury.

Eenie, meany, miney, moe. Left. She leaned forward, got both hands
under the cuff of Mulder's sock, and pushed it down and off his foot.

Mulder wasn't waiting for any more. He sat up and grabbed Scully's
shoulders to pull her off him. She was gripping firmly to his toes,
pulling them back just a little to stroke the tender underside.

"No, Scully, no!" he was shouting.

Scully wasn't happy with the results she was getting. Continuing to
hold onto his toes, she moved to the top of his foot and slid her
finger down between the big toe and the next one. That got a "whoop"
out of him, and then he had her. He flung her face down on the bed,
held her in place, and rested his face against her back as he fought
to regain his equilibrium. Finally he let her up.

"Mulder, are you sure you're all right?" she asked, and again he
nodded. Scully remembered the stopwatches, and apparently Mulder did
at the same moment. He gave her a little shove out of the way to make
sure that he was the one who reached them first.

"Nine minutes," he said. It hadn't felt like nine minutes, it had
felt like forty-five, but nine minutes was pretty respectable. Nine
minutes of tickling Scully would go a long way toward paying him back
for what she'd put him through.

"Oh, Mulder, that's a long time," Scully said. "Maybe you should get
some rest. Do you want me to drive you home now?"

"Scully, you seem to have forgotten about something. There were two
parts to this deal," Mulder said, feeling considerably revived.

"I'm sure you're not up to it right away, are you?" Scully asked.
"How about next weekend?"

"Are you trying to back out?" Mulder asked, moving closer to her.
"Because if you like we can make it today AND next weekend." Mulder
got off the bed and opened a couple of drawers on Scully's dresser.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked as he began pawing through
her clothes.

"You're not appropriately attired," he said. "I'm going to find you
something more suitable. Like this." Mulder had found a hideous get-up
that Scully had never even worn, something she had bought at one of
those "parties" where the hostess is selling something and you don't
feel right walking out empty-handed.

"That is so totally gross," Scully said. "If you like, I'll wear it,
but that's instead of getting tickled."

"Scully," said Mulder, "don't you want to get tickled? Don't you,
Scully?" He was back at the bedside and he picked her up and lay her
on her back.

"I'm not ready!" Scully yelled at him. He was pinning her down and he
didn't seem to care if she thought she was ready or not.

"Oh, don't worry, this isn't part of our deal. This is a little
preview." He was exploring her, trying to find her weak points. He
would poke and probe until he got a full, helpless peal of laughter
from her, then move on to find the next spot.

Oh my God, thought Scully, thrashing and laughing under her partner's
ministrations. He's doing research!

"Now, Scully, you tell me when you're ready to put on your pretty
little outfit. Then we can get to the main attraction." Mulder was
feeling better and better.

"Okay! HAHAHAHAHAH! Mulder! I said--ahhahhaha." She was willing to
wear anything at this point, but he wasn't even going to let her get
the words out.

"What's that, Scully? You're not sure yet?" Scully was a beautiful
woman any time, but she was even more beautiful like this.

"Damn you, Mulder!" She got the words out before he subdued her with
more tickling. She was furious at him, and furious at herself as
well. Tickling Mulder had left her dripping with excitement, but
being tickled by him was making her throb. She hated it, but she
didn't want it to stop.

It did stop. Mulder got off the bed and sat down in the chair that was
next to it.

"I refuse to tickle you any more until you put on that..." he
struggled to name the thing he'd found in her drawer. It was a hideous
two-piece affair made of red velour with long fringes. Scully had
much sexier loungewear he could have chosen for her, but perhaps he
sensed that nothing else would feel quite as embarrassing.

"You know, I didn't make you wear anything stupid like that," Scully
said, pouting at him.

"I don't want to make you wear anything," Mulder said. "Nothing is
fine. But if you want to wear something, it's got to be that."

"And socks," Scully reminded him. Mulder was still wearing his black
underwear and one white sock, but he didn't look stupid. He looked
yummy. Scully gathered up her red velour whatever-it-was and a pair
of long white tube socks.

"It would be better if you'd change right here," Mulder suggested.

"You're dreaming," she said, heading for the privacy of the bathroom.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Scully tried to tell herself that the red velour whatsis wasn't really
that bad. It was basically a bra and panty set, except for the long
fringes. The bra was surprisingly comfortable for a push-up bra. The
tube socks even coordinated with the outfit, thanks to the double ring
of red stripes at the top.

She went back into the bedroom. Mulder took one look and couldn't
keep himself from laughing. He really didn't want to laugh, because
his ribs were sore as hell, but he couldn't help it.

"Thanks, Mulder, I really needed that vote of confidence," Scully
said.

"I'm sorry, Scully," he gasped. "It's just I didn't know you were a
professional wrestler."

"You picked this," Scully reminded him.

"I didn't pick those socks," Mulder said.

"You were allowed to wear your socks," she answered, ignoring for the
moment the fact that she had removed one of them and even now had
designs on the other one.

"Strictly speaking, I don't know if those even qualify as socks,"
Mulder said. They came up over her knees, after all. "Come here, let
me see those things."

"You can see them perfectly well from over there," she said, but by
the times she had the words out he had seized her and placed her face
down on the floor.

"I wrestled in high school, you know." His mouth was up against her
ear.

Mulder had himself positioned over Scully's back. He was not holding
her in place at all, but he was ready to frustrate any attempt she
made to get away. If this worked out the way he hoped, she'd be able
to struggle and thrash quite prettily without ever being able to escape.

"Look at you, Scully, you're curling up like an armadillo. Do you
feel well protected? Because I can find plenty of places for an
attack. How about right there?" he asked. Those lovely ribs, just
waiting for his fingers to return. She had started with her arms
crossed in front of her, but as she pulled her elbows back to cover
her flanks, she exposed her flat, soft-skinned belly. He did not
respond to the new target right away. He kept his fingers on the rib
cage. Her arms were planted firmly over his hands, but this did not
make it any harder for him to tickle her ribs. It really didn't matter
what she did, whether she resisted or not.

"Hey, Scully, I'm playing the harp," Mulder said, stroking and
strumming her. He could back off a little, and her laughter quieted
to giggles, or he could pick up the pace, and she'd go into that goofy
laugh of hers, or he would really go to town, and her laughter would
be breathless and continuous.

He was mesmerized by her helplessness. It was so easy to take her
hands and move them out of his way, and almost as easy to simply slip
his hands under hers. For a while he amused himself by concentrating
on tickling whatever part of her body she was working to keep
protected. Then he changed strategies, and challenged himself to only
tickle the areas she left undefended. Now when she moved her arms to
cover her sides, his gentle fingers launched a commando raid on her
belly. She was literally flipping, tossing herself from her back to
her side, then face down, and whichever way she landed Mulder
continued find suitable sensitive targets.

She tried to suppress her responses, but it was completely impossible.
Mulder's thoroughness had paid off, and her knew exactly where to
tickle her. She was flailing like a fish on a line, and he was taking
great pride in tickling each spot as she made it available.

Mulder was having fun poking his fingers into the writhing tangle of
flushed pink skin and fuzzy red velour and keeping Scully in a
hysterical frenzy. She was giving him an earful all the while,
laughing, giggling, shrieking, and occasionally cursing at him.
Mulder wasn't satisfied with this arrangement, though, because he
wasn't getting a good look at his victim.
He scooped her off the floor and plopped her onto the bed. Instantly
she drew herself to a sitting position with her knees up close to her
body and her arms holding them in place.

"Mulder, you were supposed to be timing that!" she exclaimed.

"Nope, that didn't count," he answered, squeezing her kneecaps. "Time
for you to stretch out and hold still."

She stared at him mournfully, hoping for some sympathy. Very gingerly,
she lay down on he bed. Warily she moved her arms from her sides,
toward the stopwatches.
Her armspan was considerable shorter than Mulder's, and she looked
miserable trying to hold on to both timers at once.

"Relax a minute, Scully," Mulder said. He was going to lengthen the
cords holding the stopwatches to the bed so that Scully wouldn't have
to stretch so far. Scully had another idea.

"Mulder, since it seems you can do whatever you want to me anyway,
could you tie me up instead of making me hold on?"

"I don't know," Mulder said. "The deal was for you to hold still for
me. I gave you nine minutes like that."

"I'm not arguing about the time," Scully reminded him. "I'm just
asking you to tie me up."

Clearly the suggestion excited Mulder, but he answered cautiously.

"I want to keep this safe, Scully," he said. "I'll do it, but there
has to be a way for me to know if it's too much for you. When I stop
and ask you if you've had enough, you have to tell me to keep going."

"I have to ask you to keep doing it?" Scully asked.
"What if I ask you to stop?"

"Then I'll stop," Mulder said. "If you ask me to stop before nine
minutes are up, I win. But I will stop."

"You turned it into a contest," Scully noted.

"I guess I have," Mulder said. He set the timer on his wristwatch for
nine minutes. He pulled some hosiery from Scully's dresser drawer and
got ready to tie her to the bed. "You're going to have to ask for
this. In fact, you're going to have to ask very nicely."

Scully smiled at him and pushed her hair back before lying back on the
bed in a spread-eagle pose.

"Mulder. Dear Mulder. Please tie me up so I am completely helpless
and tickle me for nine long minutes," she said.

Mulder used the nylon hosiery to tie her hands on opposite sides of
the bed. He tested the knots to make sure she couldn't get loose. He
ran his fingers along each arm from the wrist up to the smooth, shaved
armpit. She giggled, pulling against the nylon restraints. He tied
one ankle to the bed, leaving one free.

"I want to feel you struggling against me," he explained, sliding the
long, bulky sock off Scully's right foot. "Then I'll finish tying
you up. And don't worry, you're completely helpless already."

"Mulder, leave that on," Scully yelled. Mulder locked one hand around
her ankle, and with the other one began to tickle the sole of her
foot. Scully wanted to tell him that she wouldn't be able to stand
this because the soles of her feet were just too ticklish. She wanted
to say that the deal was off if he was going to tickle her feet.
That's what she wanted to say, but of course she could not.

This was as good as Mulder had hoped. Scully's laughter poured out of
her like an endless stream, or maybe a waterfall. Mulder had a good
grip on her ankle, and despite her strength, Scully never came close
to pulling her foot from him. Finally Mulder stopped tickling and
tied the right foot in place.

"No feet!" Scully exclaimed breathlessly, now that she could talk.

"Of course feet," Mulder said. He untied the left foot so he could
hold that one in place and feel the resistance. He rolled the sock
off. "Do you want to me to stop?" he asked thoughtfully.

"No, damn it, I'm not going to let you win," she said. "Just leave my
feet alone."

"Scully, you don't make the rules. Just tell me if you want to give
up and lose or if you want to go on with this," Mulder said.

"Now you listen to me..." Scully began.

"I'd better untie you now," Mulder said. "I don't hear you begging me
to keep tickling you." He started tugging at the nylon around her
wrist. "How long was that, Scully, about a minute?"

"Don't you dare stop!" Scully shouted at him. "Fox Mulder, you'd
better keep tickling me!"

"If that's what you want..." And in a second he was back where he
wanted to be, one hand immobilizing her left leg and the other one
tickling her foot. He realized now that she was incapable of
admitting when it was more than she could stand, and he was forcing
himself to go easy on her.

"You know, Scully," he taunted her, "It's too bad South Park isn't on.
You say you hate that show, but I bet you would laugh through the
whole thing now."

"You son-of-a-AHAHAHAHAHAHHA--" Her protest was lost in her laughter.
She'd never been in a more embarrassing situation, she thought. The
only thing that could make it worse would be if Mulder knew how
totally turned on she was.

Mulder had finally had his fill of tickling her feet, and he stopped
to tie her left ankle in place. He flopped next to her on the bed and
tickled her lightly here and there, his fingers hopping from one spot
to the next.

"Had enough, Scully?" he asked.

"Keep going, Mulder," she said, struggling against her restraints.

With a contented sigh, he continued his lazy tickling, and she
continued to giggle.

"Scully," he said in a very serious tone, "I think we'd better stop
soon. This is just too... provocative. It's putting my mind where it
doesn't belong."

Scully had already acknowledged to herself that she was hotter than
hell after this day of tickle torture, but she had been counting on
Mulder to keep the brakes on. Now it seemed that he was getting
excited too.

A buzzer sounded. It was Mulder's wristwatch. Nine minutes were up.

"Wow," he said. He tugged the knots out of the nylons, then lay back
down in the bed.

Scully heaved a sigh.

"I don't think I can drive you home, Mulder," she said. "You wore me
out. Would you mind sleeping here?"

Without answering, Mulder pulled back the covers to squirm his way
underneath, and Scully snuggled in next to him.

"Good night, Scully," he said. "You've got a lot of willpower. I'm
surprised I beat you."

"Good night, Mulder," she answered. Someday soon she would respond to
that challenge, but not tonight.

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