Life from the Ashes Book 3 - SBS
by Jo B.
The Winter Palace
Thursday, February 24
Muffled moans and the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh resounded within the walls of Slava's private office. Mulder rested his forehead on top of his bare arms that were folded over a soft satin pillow, which had been placed on top of a three an a half foot high counter top for his comfort. He bit down on his lower lip to stifle another moan of pleasure from escaping and encouraging his abuser further. Earlier, the older man had removed Mulder's suit coat and silk shirt, but had left the leather thong in place, pulling the thin leather strip aside as he entered the younger man. He stood with his long, toned legs spread apart and his trousers pooled around his ankles as Slava thrust forcefully into him from behind, pushing his hips forward into the wooden counter. A groan of blissful agony escaped his lips as his groin was pressed firmly against the wood -- his cock and balls were painfully hard and trapped within the tight confines of the leather thong. Slava was using his powers to prevent him from coming.
"That's it, moi pet, take it all," Slava said, slamming into his lover again, and again. He leaned back and watched the younger man's taut anus griping his cock as he pulled out; it was nestled between the lovely mounds of Mulder's firm buttocks. Slava's finger toyed with the thin, black leather strip that lent a sharp contrast against the younger man's smooth ivory skin. "You're so beautiful like this, moi Fox, spread wide open for me to take my pleasures from. I knew you would come to return my love." He thrust back in hard, rocking the younger man's body with the sheer force of his entry.
"Oh god! Yes, Nikolai, I *do* love you," Mulder gritted out through clenched teeth, the lie now coming effortlessly to him.
Slava paused and looked down lovingly at his lover's bowed, submissive body. His hand gently caressed the warm flesh of Mulder's long back, feeling the taut muscles under sinfully smooth skin as it traveled down to where their bodies were joined. "I know you do, moi love. Russia shall be forever united through our love for each other." He pressed a soft kiss between the younger man's shoulder blades.
Slava couldn't see Mulder's face, so he didn't see the younger man as he rolled his eyes sarcastically and bit his tongue to keep a snide comment from slipping out.
The Tsar buried his face into the side of Mulder's throat and breathed in the erotic musky scent, causing his already hard organ to expand even more in its tight confines.
Mulder wiggled uncomfortably. "Nikolai, do you think you could let me come this time?" he asked huskily.
"You know the rules, Fox, no coming until we are back in our chambers. I do so love the looks of envy and adoration on all of my subjects faces when they see you looking like this, so beautifully flushed with arousal," Slava replied, stroking Mulder's firm buttocks.
Mulder grumbled. "Ha, you just like controlling me, and hearing me beg you for release."
"Hmm, true, but you left out how much I love sucking you off. You taste so delicious, moi pet, it is the perfect end to my hectic day," Slava replied, resuming, in earnest, the hot fuck he was taking from his frustrated lover.
After another ten minutes of relentless fucking, the older man's body stiffened and he came deep within his lover. Slava reluctantly slipped out and a plug appeared in his hand, which he quickly inserted into his lover's tight anus then adjusted the leather strip over it. Mulder hated the plug more than he hated not being allowed to come. Slava had told him in the past that he didn't want him leaking into his expensive trousers, but Mulder knew that the Cossack got a perverted pleasure out of knowing that he still had his essence inside of him.
Slava squeezed the hard organ trapped inside the leather sling, making Mulder moan and thrust into his hand.
"Very nice, and all for me. Later." He smiled happily. He washed himself off with a warm cloth, staring at the succulent flesh still splayed for his pleasure. He tucked himself back into his trousers first, before attending to the task of helping his lover back into his clothing. He finished by fastening an expensive, emerald pin over the top button on the younger man's silk shirt. He pulled Mulder into his arms and ravished his mouth, deeply enjoying his lover's exotic taste. No past lover had ever come close to tasting as good as his Fox.
Mulder cringed as the plug shifted and rubbed against his prostate, keeping him painfully erect. "Nikolai, couldn't you allow me to go back to our room to clean up? Do you have any idea how uncomfortable it is to sit with this thing up my ass?"
"Yes, but it makes you squirm so prettily. Fox, you wouldn't deny the Russian people the joy of seeing you so in love with their ruler that merely being in my presence arouses you to the point of discomfort?" Slava queried, caressing Mulder's erection through his tight trousers. "It's such a pretty sight."
Mulder glared at him and replied sarcastically, "Of course not, *Nick*, I wouldn't pass up the opportunity to be leered at and drooled over by hundreds of Russian men."
"That's the spirit, moi beautiful pet," he purred, kissing Mulder gently on the cheek. "And don't call me, Nick. Come, our subjects await us." Slava looped an arm around his lover's waist and guided him out of the office and into the throne room.
Two immense n'thral guards were stationed in front of two closed golden doors. Although the n'thrals were now on the sexual suppressants, they were still deeply aroused by the smell coming off the immortal, and they stood uncomfortably rigid as their ruler guided his lover over to the dual thrones. They watched lustfully as the immortal sat gingerly and squirmed around until he found a comfortable position. The Tsar adjusted Mulder's clothing and brushed his fingers through the silky chestnut hair, until his lover looked the way he wanted him to, sexy and alluring. He ran a finger over those pouty, kiss-swollen lips, then took his place upon the throne next to Mulder. Taking his lover's hand in his, Slava nodded to his guards to open the doors.
As the first men were shown into the throne room, Mulder stared passed them into the wide corridor where a long endless line of men waited. The men craned their heads to get a look inside the throne room and at the immortal seated next to their Tsar. Mulder sighed, shifting nervously, he dug his nails into Slava's palm as the plug shifted unbearably. Mulder gasped, closing his eyes against the swift wave of pleasure that washed over his body.
"Patience, moi love," Slava murmured softly, squeezing Mulder's hand affectionately.
"That's easy for you to say; you don't have a *fucking* missile shoved up your ass," Mulder growled angrily, which only served to annoy Slava.
"Grin and bear it, moi love, or I'll replace it with one twice the size," the Tsar scolded through clenched teeth as he tried to listen to the case being presented to him.
The case was a property dispute that had turned violent and couldn't be resolved in normal court. The two families had agreed to abide by the Tsar's decision. The men were nervous and their attention kept drifting over to the Tsar's companion. When the Tsar finally made his ruling neither man seemed to care about their dispute any longer and had to be physically jostled out of the room by two n'thral guards. Not all of the men waiting had cases they wanted the Tsar to decide, some were there to greet the Tsar's companion and present him with gifts. Mulder's attention was grabbed briefly when a troop of Cossack dancers and musicians performed for him, which particularly pleased the Tsar. However, the rest afternoon progressed slowly and Mulder sulked silently. His mind drifted from his physical discomfort to his family, wondering how his daughters and his lovers were doing. Slava had decided that he didn't like him calling home after all, since it left Mulder depressed and agitated.
Mulder couldn't take much more of this abuse, he had to get away from Slava. It was killing him to rein in his temper and pretend that he loved this man. He thought he was teetering on the brink of insanity. Slava was stealing so much from him that should have only belonged to Walter and Alex, just thinking about his two lovers brought tears to his eyes. He was a fool to have left them, would they even want him back when they found out that he had willingly gone into Slava's bed? He did it for them, but he doubted they would see it that way, and he really couldn't blame them.
Slava signaled for Captain Mikhin to approach the throne. "Captain, that will be all for today. Please, inform my subjects to return next Thursday, and make a note of their order in line, we will proceed from there."
"Yes, moi Tsar," Mikhin replied bowing. He had been floating on a cloud since taking the drug to control his sexual urges; it had cleared his mind and allowed him to think unhindered. He shot Fyodorov a menacing look. The clairvoyant was in his usual place beside the throne. He would make the little man pay dearly for usurping his place with the Tsar.
Slava looked lovingly at Mulder who had a faraway look on his face. "Come, Fox, we will dine first then retire for the evening," he said, standing and offering the younger man his hand.
Mulder stirred from his thoughts, pouting miserably, he grumbled, "I need to use the toilet."
"I'm sorry, baby, I didn't mean for us to be here this long. You're not too uncomfortable are you?" Slava asked gently, massaging Mulder's ass, he felt the hard knob of the butt plug nestled between the younger man's cheeks.
Mulder shoved him away, exploding angrily, "Of course I'm uncomfortable! I just sat here for five *fucking* hours with this *goddamned* torture device shoved up my ass and all the while needing desperately to take a dump!"
Slava frowned at his lover's foul language, but decided to let it pass this one time. He was, after all, partially to blame. "Okay, moi love, I'll remove it for you in the washroom," he said solicitously. Taking his angry lover's hand, he guided him back to his office and into his private washroom.
Foxfire Glenn Estate
Thursday, February 24
"Dana, Shin, lunch is ready," MacIver said as he stepped into the lab.
"Just put it down on the desk, Rory," Scully replied not looking up from the microscope.
"There's nothing to set down. You are both going to take a break and come upstairs to eat," MacIver replied firmly.
"Rory, there really isn't time for this, just bring us the usual sandwiches, and we'll eat them when we have the time," Takeda stated while he entered data into the computer.
"No! You both cannot continue working non-stop without a break; it isn't healthy for you or the babies you're carrying! Now this isn't open for negotiation, you are both going upstairs to eat in the kitchen with the rest of the family," MacIver snapped.
Scully gazed at him angrily; she couldn't believe his audacity ordering her to do anything. "Rory, I can take care of myself and I am going to continue working down here," she replied hotly and slipped a new slide under the microscope.
"Dana, I don't like resorting to threats, but if you don't get that pretty little behind of yours upstairs *now* I will teleport you up there."
"You wouldn't dare!" Scully glared.
"Just try me, Red."
Scully studied the Scotsman's face and decided that he wasn't bluffing. "Sure, fine, whatever!" she grumbled, hopping off the stool. She stormed for the door with Takeda timidly following behind her.
The young man stopped in front of his lover and waited for Scully to get out of earshot before asking, "Rory, you wouldn't have actually teleported Dana to the kitchen, would you?"
"No, of course not, Shin. I would never jeopardize her or her baby that way, but what the lovely Dana doesn't know won't hurt her."
"Then you're lucky she didn't call your bluff, old man," Takeda said. Quickly kissing MacIver on the cheek he rushed after Scully.
Upstairs in the kitchen, Schatz and Hunter were busy feeding Hope and Faith, while Frohike dished up stew and crusty bread for the other men and Kimberly. Kimberly glanced into the family room at her two daughters who were both down for their nap.
Duffy walked into the room carrying a large gift basket. "This has just arrived for you, Justin," he said, placing the cellophane wrapped basket in the center of the breakfast table.
Blaise set down his spoon and reached for the card attached to the basket. "It's from my ranger buddies." He sighed glumly, "They're congratulating me on having a bun in the oven."
Hawk took the card from him and scanned the note. "Well, at least they're not offering to make an honest man out of you because that's my job," he quipped, giving his lover's hand a reassuring squeeze.
Since, Doctor Pendrell had made the announcement two days ago that all four immortals at Foxfire Glenn were pregnant they had been receiving cards and presents hourly. Pendrell only made the announcement after determining it was not healthy for the babies they were carrying if the immortals continued to perform the agreed upon monthly healings. They couldn't stop doing the healings without a valid reason, so he opted for the truth, since it would have come out eventually anyway, once the immortal's started showing. They were only a few months along and it would still be another two or three months until they were noticeably pregnant. It had already come out a week ago that the two immortals living in San Francisco were pregnant, too.
A look of horror passed across Frohike's face. "God, I hope Mulder doesn't become pregnant by Slava."
"Why, Melvin, did you see something to suggest that he might?" Hunter asked, picking up Hope and cuddling her against his chest.
"I just had a glimpse of him pregnant. God, he was huge." Frohike shuddered, making a circle with his hands to show just how big, then he said, "But I didn't see anything that would indicate where he was at the time."
"Oh god, Melvin. Not while we're eating," Blaise complained, shoving his food away. He did not want to be reminded just how big they were all going to become.
"It would kill Walter and Alex if Mulder comes home pregnant with that bastard's baby. When is his next cycle?" Scully asked, ignoring Blaise's outcry.
"From March 3 to March 5," Takeda replied.
//Damn, damn, damn,// Skinner muttered.
//Dammit, Walter, Fox had better be back here in nine days. You know his willpower is just about zip! And I doubt Slava would agree to sedate him during his cycle.//
//We'll just have to pray that either he's back with us before then, or that he continues to fight his body's compulsion for a child,// Skinner sighed.
The Winter Palace
Thursday, February 24
The dining hall was aglow in candlelight as the Tsar and members of his elite guard dined on pheasant. Soothing music from a string quartet resounded around the massive hall.
Mulder quietly ate his meal ignoring the happy banter that was going on around him. Only when one of Slava's sorcerers addressed him personally did he raise his eyes from his plate.
"Master Fox," the young man repeated. When he was sure that he had the immortal's attention he went on. "Today I read a story in the newspaper about the pregnant immortals in America. Is it true that you are predisposed to having babies?"
"But, all the immortals in the world are now pregnant with the exception of yourself and two others that are enslaved by n'thrals. How do explain so many pregnancies, without the immortals being predisposed to become pregnant?" The young sorcerer challenged.
Mulder face drained of color and he quickly looked back down at his plate. He hadn't even been aware that all immortals were pregnant, except for him and two others, and what he found really distressing was that he was actually embarrassed that he wasn't pregnant. He didn't know how to respond to the young man's question; he found the whole topic completely humiliating. It made him feel unmanly. He squirmed uncomfortably in his chair, chewing nervously on his lower lip. Shit, he only had nine days before his next cycle and already the compulsion to have a baby was affecting him.
Slava reached over and squeezed Mulder's hand reassuringly. "Talikov, moi Fox finds the discussion too personal, and he does not want to discuss it further."
"Sorry, Tsar Nikolai, I didn't mean to offend Master Fox. It is just that it is such an interesting and important subject that I couldn't help but be curious."
Slava looked affectionately at his young inquisitive apprentice and noted that all the men at the table were quiet and listening intently to their conversation. "Okay, Talikov, I'll answer your questions for Fox. He does not want to become pregnant, but his body is demanding that he does. So, yes, you're right, immortals are predisposed to having babies."
"Will you and Master Fox have a baby together?"
Slava tenderly caressed Mulder's face with his long fingers, enjoying the red flush of embarrassment that spread across it, and he turned his lover's face so he could look into his hazel eyes. "It will be totally up to Fox to decide whether he wants to becomes pregnant with my child." The Tsar knew that his lover was fighting a losing battle and would eventually be begging to be impregnated.
Mulder swallowed hard, turning his head quickly away from the Tsar's piercing black pools, his hand unconsciously went down to cover his belly protectively. He was no longer hungry. It sickened him to realize that he would have Slava's child if he remained here through his next cycle. It made it all the more important to escape as soon as possible -- March 1 seemed impossibly far off.
Marat Fyodorov quickly made his way through the Winter Palace corridors heading for the dining hall. He had important information to tell the Tsar that would get him back in his leader's good graces. A little while ago, as he was spying on the elite guard he had discovered Master Fox's plans for escape, and the names of the conspirators who were helping him. Fyodorov was in such a hurry to reach the Tsar that he wasn't watching where he was going and he rounded a corner and ran straight into Captain Mikhin. He had spent most of his time lately trying to avoid the vindictive giant.
The large n'thral swatted him away like an insect, sending the little man flying against a wall. Fyodorov stared up fearfully at the menacing n'thral as he shakily reclaimed his feet.
"The Tsar will not be happy when he finds out you have struck his chief clairvoyant, Captain," Fyodorov threatened feebly. He felt a large bruise forming on the side of his face.
"The Tsar has gotten what he wanted from you troll and could care less if I take you outside and jam a pole up your ass and mount you next to his other trophies!" Mikhin growled.
Fyodorov had no doubt that the large n'thral would do just that. The man hated him for having Slava's ear all these months. He cringed as he read the n'thral's thoughts and discovered that the creature was going to kill him whether the Tsar approved or not. Fyodorov quickly decided that getting back in the Tsar's good graces no longer mattered, what mattered now was saving his own pathetic hide. "Captain, couldn't we talk about this," Fyodorov begged, backing away from the stalking giant.
"I will use a nice long and thick pole say three inches in diameter by fifteen feet long. That way people throughout the square can enjoy watching your naked body twitch as it slowly impales itself on the pole. You see, maggot, I intend to have the end rounded to a nice blunt tip. It will take all day for your weight to slowly sink down on it, forcing it deeper, and deeper, into your bowels. It will be an extremely painful way to die, you will welcome the end when the tip finally pierces your heart," Mikhin growled as he advanced on the little man.
A soft voice sounded from behind the menacing n'thral. "Captain Mikhin."
The captain turned toward the person speaking to him. It was Masataka Izumi, the Tsar's artist. "Yes, Mr. Izumi?"
"Captain, I need a hand at moving a large canvas into my studio, if you could be so kind."
"Of course, Mr. Izumi. I have another matter to attend to first then I'll be right with you." Mikhin turned back to Fyodorov, but the little man had vanished. Realizing his fun would have to wait for another day, he reluctantly went to help the Tsar's artist.
Izumi breathed a sigh of relief when he watched Fyodorov flee. He had heard the n'thral's threats and didn't want to see anyone come to such a painful end, even the Tsar's personal spy. Fyodorov hadn't made too many friends within the palace; the little man had put his duty to the Tsar ahead of other people's lives and was constantly trying to win the Tsar's approval by snitching on his fellow servants.
Sunlight glistened off the garden pool as King Xowolfe sat listening to Xoric describe his home world. He found Xoric's tales about angels fascinating, and he wondered if it was a flight of fancy or if some of his people had actually made it to Earth. Of all the beings whose worlds that they had conquered, these humans were the closest in appearance to them.
The human's Seraphim mate walked up to them. "My King, Xoric is tired I think it would be best that I take him inside for his nap," Xochipilli said, standing protectively close to his lover.
Ricardo Montoya looked up lovingly at this being who he had grown to love with all of his heart. He had never felt more loved and cherished in his whole life. It didn't hurt that they had mind blowing sex daily. He was about to get up and follow his Seraphim lover back inside when the King's voice stopped him.
"How is his pregnancy progressing, Xochipilli?" the King asked, forestalling their departure. He placed an exploratory hand over the young immortal's belly and felt the slight bulge.
"It goes well, my King. Although, he is still in the early stages, his body is already showing outward signs of our baby's growth within."
Montoya sat quietly allowing the beautiful and regal Seraphim King to caress his belly, listening intently to the conversation between the two beings. He had made tremendous progress learning the Seraphim's language -- his photographic memory had come in handy for memorizing the words, and he hardly needed the translator device any longer. He was, however, still having a hard time adjusting to the fact that there was a baby growing inside of him.
"Yes, I can feel it. Xochipilli, all of Empyrean awaits the birth of your child," Xowolfe said, wondering if this child would hold the key to revitalizing their dying race. He removed his hand and allowed his brother to take the young human back inside.
Xowolfe rose and went inside his heavily guarded citadel, heading toward the heart of the structure to where the portal room was located. The portal was in the shape of a large metal ring that stood on its base in the center of the large room. It was sixty feet in diameter, and in its non-activated state, the other side of the room could be seen through it. From it he could reach all of the planets they had conquered over the millenniums. He entered the room and walked over to the control console, selecting a crystal he inserted it into the machine. The portal opened displaying a lush forested world with winged beings fluttering around. This was the first planet they had conquered, but even after two thousand years of crossbreeding with its indigenous species, they were still a long ways away from producing a pure Seraphim from them. He removed the crystal and placed it back in its proper spot.
His thoughts turned back to the humans. If they could get at least one ship through the Earth's defenses, they would be able to erect a direct portal to it. He should have had the Grays set up one when they first started studying the Earth and its inhabitants for conquest. However, they had always erected the portal after taking over a planet, and this was the first time they had ever been defeated. There had to be another way of getting through the Earthlings' defenses. He sat contemplating all of his options when there was a disturbance in the portal.
A being he recognized instantly as a human appeared within its center, and surrounding the human were several hooded figures chanting in the Seraphim's own tongue. The picture wasn't clear, which suggested the portal was only being used as a vehicle for verbal and visual communication, and not as a means for two-way dimensional travel. King Xowolfe stepped up on the platform in front of the portal, the chanting stopped and gasps were heard from the hooded figures. All the figures except the human fell to the ground prostrating themselves before the Seraphim King.
Reverend Xsavior gazed in awe upon the beautiful winged figure that suddenly appeared in the middle of their ritual circle, he hadn't expected the incantation to work. The ancient book it had come from was only a copy, of a copy, of a copy, being transcribed by a secret order of monks over a thousand years ago. The original documents making up the book were believed to have been close to three thousand years old. The book was written in the ancient Etruscan language.
"My lord, I am your humble servant Xsavior," the reverend said in fractured Etruscan, bowing before the regal creature in the circle.
"What is the purpose of your contacting me?" the King replied cautiously. He would allow the human to explain himself first before seeking answers to his own questions.
"My lord, we seek your assistance in ridding the Earth of your dark brother's children and freeing God's wingless angels from their evil clutches," Xsavior stated, studying the proud, tall figure of the Seraphim. It's wings and hair were the color expensive sable, it had full lips, a high brow, long straight nose, and luminous green eyes. He had never seen anything more beautiful, *no* he corrected silently, Fox Mulder could hold his own against this archangel he was, in fact, surprisingly very similar in appearance as the angel. Xsavior pulled his gaze away from the being's hypnotic eyes and continued with his demands. "My lord, we would also like our females returned to us."
Strange, Xowolfe thought, the man was assuming that he was a deity of some sort. He recalled the myth Xoric had told him about archangels and God, so it was true, his people had visited the Earth at one time, how else would the human know how to speak their language or use their magic. He would use this fool to his meet own ends.
"My loyal servant, I can help you, but it will require you to build a gateway that will allow me to pass from heaven onto your world."
The reverend was thrilled, God's own archangel was going to slay his enemies and bring back their females. "My lord, show me how to build this gate."
Xowolfe started to describe the process for building the portal and Xsavior wrote down what the King said. Their exchange lasted well over twenty-four earth hours. Xsavior's hand was cramping from writing the precise mathematical equations and formulas required for constructing the gate. This went far beyond his capabilities, it would require him to get professional help to build this gateway to heaven.
"That should be enough to get you started, Xsavior. Summon me again when you have the gate built." Xowolfe stepped off the platform ending their contact.
Foxfire Glenn Estate
Monday, February 28
Gabriel Hunter inspected the four new sorcerers sent by the U.S. government to help protect the immortals during the invasion. All of the sorcerers were foreigners who had only recently immigrated here from their war torn homelands. General Thomas, the new Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff had handpicked the men, after personally reviewing their documents and interviewing each man. Hunter didn't like the idea of these strangers having access to the immortals, but he could do nothing to prevent their being stationed here.
"I will show you to your rooms first then explain your duties to you," Hunter said in a clipped tone of voice.
//I don't like this, Alex. What was General Thomas thinking sending those men here?// Skinner asked as they followed Hunter to the west wing.
//Maybe, we should try to contact Gabriel through the babies and let him know we are here and aware of what is going on,// Krycek suggested. They had only been able to touch their daughters, all attempts to contact other members of the household had failed.
//How do you suggest we do that?// Skinner asked.
//We could guide the baby's hand and write a message to him.//
//Alex, write with what? They aren't even old enough to use the crayons you bought them for Christmas.//
//We could use their building blocks.//
//They only have ten blocks, which is hardly enough to spell more than one word.//
//One word should be enough, Walter.//
Skinner quickly understood what Krycek meant. //Okay, we'll give it a try.//
The Winter Palace
Tuesday, March 1
Mulder tried to pull gently away from the larger man's body, which was entwined around his. Slava was softly snoring and his hot breath caressed Mulder's cheek. He sighed and forlornly staring up at the ceiling, he was afraid of waking Slava and could already feel the heavy press of the larger man's morning erection against his hip. At least this would be the last day he would have to awaken in this man's bed because today was the day he was going to escape, he only hoped everything was in place.
Before leaving D.C. he had contacted Krycek's two friends Boris Gudenko and Major Pyetr Yermolov and asked for their assistance in helping him escape if Slava didn't have a cure for SBS. Major Yermolov was one of Slava's new apprentices, and he was stationed inside the palace. Mulder had been worried about the young major's ability to conceal his thoughts, but it seemed he had been successful.
Pyetr was supposed to contact Izumi this morning and explain their escape plans to the Japanese artist. Mulder wanted to take Izumi with him, but hadn't wanted him to know anything about their plans to escape until the last minute. He couldn't chance that the Tsar might read Izumi's mind.
Now everything rested on Boris' ability to cause a large enough disturbance so that the Tsar would leave St. Petersburg for the day.
Mulder stilled his thoughts as he felt Slava stir. The large man's hand roamed down between his legs forcing them apart as he caressed Mulder's thigh, and his long fingers explored upward until they probed the younger man's anus, first one, then two entered him. Slava was completely awake and staring into Mulder's eyes as he pushed a third finger into his lover's tight opening. He seemed to have second thoughts as he removed his fingers then shifted into a kneeling position on the bed and straddled Mulder's naked body.
"Fox, I'm going to fuck you here," he purred lustfully into Mulder's ear as his hand stroked over the younger man's navel.
"No, please, don't. What about . . ."
"Nonsense, Fox, I'll protect you. I will not allow some filthy alien to interfere with my . . . our pleasures."
"Please, Nikolai, I don't want . . . "
"Ssh." Slava leaned down and tenderly kissed his lips.
Mulder struggled uselessly under the larger man's body. He was scared to death of seeing Xowolfe again, now that he knew just what the alien wanted. Slava's tongue explored every inch of his lover's wet delicious mouth until Mulder was getting dizzy from lack of oxygen reaching his lungs. By the time Slava pulled away and positioned his cock over its intended target it was too late for the younger man to fight him off.
The next thing Mulder was aware of was being back in the Seraphim's presence. The large being stood naked under a waterfall in an outdoor lush pool. The air was sweetly fragrant, and the sound of music could be heard coming from a nearby structure. Brightly colored birds and butterflies flew about landing on trees and flowers. Xowolfe must have sensed Mulder's presence because he turned to face him and stepped out of the pool. Water glistened on the Seraphim's muscular body as beads of water droplets sparkled in the sunlight on the being's wings. Mulder couldn't keep his eyes from dropping down to the Seraphim's sex or stop the involuntary gasp that escaped his lips. The thing was long and thick with barb like bristles covering its length, and the head was flared and smooth. Mulder watched in dread as the organ thickened and lengthened and the bristles seemed to move on their own.
Xowolfe was aroused by the presence of his mate; it had been weeks since he had last seen his beautiful human. "Xofox, you have returned to me at last," the King murmured.
"Believe me it is not by choice! I now know that you are the creature behind murdering my planet's females!" Mulder snapped angrily and backed away.
"Their deaths were necessary for the Seraphim race to continue to exist. We do not kill for the pleasure of it, Xofox," the Seraphim responded reasonably.
"Why was it necessary to *murder* the females on my planet?"
Xowolfe stalked closer to Mulder, ignoring the human's question. He wished that the young man was physically here so he could touch his beautiful body. "Tell me, Xofox, how are you able to come here?"
Mulder backed away feeling exposed and helpless, under the Seraphim piercing emerald gaze. "I . . . I don't really know. I only find myself here when . . . when I'm being penetrated by my lover's sex through my navel," he stammered, jumping when strong arms wrapped around his body from behind.
The look of utter outrage and hatred flashed across the regal Seraphim's beautiful face as he stared into Slava's mocking black eyes over Mulder's shoulder.
"That's right, Fox and I are enjoying the most delicious sex right now. His body is so perfect, don't you agree?" Slava taunted, licking the side of Mulder's throat, purposely teasing the being with something he knew it wanted. He glanced up at the Seraphim and saw that the creature was turning red with rage.
Slava continued playing with Mulder's body in front of the Seraphim. He stroked the younger man's nipples, hearing a satisfying moan issue from Mulder's lush lips. "Mm, yes, Fox is so very responsive, he loves having his nipples teased and there's a spot just below his ear that drives him wild when it's nipped just right. He has so many erogenous zones that they are too numerous to list. You should hear the erotic noises he makes when I bury my cock deep inside his ass and fuck him with long deep strokes."
"How *dare* you touch my mate, worm! I will flay you alive when I get my hands on you, human!" The King growled.
"Don't call me human, monster. I am a sorcerer and you will not find me easy to kill," Slava snarled. Then both him and Mulder disappeared as suddenly as they had appeared. The King stared helplessly into the empty space where their bodies once stood.
Mulder was shaking uncontrollably when Slava finally pulled out of his body. "Fuck you, you *sadistic* bastard! Are you happy now that you got to show him what a nice piece of ass I am!" he shouted, slapping the larger man across his face. "God, I hate you!"
Slava grabbed his wrists and held them trapped against the mattress over his head as he straddled the smaller man's body. "Fox, yes, I am happy. You're my piece of ass, and I wanted that fucking alien to know it! It's about time you admit it to yourself -- you love me, and you want me just as much as I want you!"
"Maybe, I should lock you up inside our bedroom again, until you come to your senses," Slava growled.
That got Mulder's attention immediately and he stopped struggling, he couldn't escape today if he was locked inside this room. "No. Please don't, Nikolai, I didn't mean it. It's just that I'm so afraid of that creature and I lost my head for a moment. Please, don't lock me up again."
"Tell me that you love me and I'll consider your request."
"I love you, Nikolai." Mulder leaned up and gently kissed his mouth.
"We shall discuss this further, Fox, after breakfast."
Foxfire Glenn Estate
Tuesday, March 1
In the family room Spender sat watching the babies, he frowned when he noticed Hope's jerky movements as she played with her toy blocks. He hoped there wasn't anything neurological wrong with the baby. He stood and walked over to pick her up, when he noticed she had spelled out a word with the blocks.
"Hey, Gabriel, take a look at this," Spender called to the older man in the kitchen.
"What?" Hunter asked, stepping into the family room.
"What do you make of that?" Spender pointed to the blocks that spelled out *crayon*.
"I think we should get her a crayon and sheet of paper," Hunter said, holding out his hand, in it appeared a crayon and a large sheet of paper. He laid the paper in front of Hope and handed her the crayon.
Hope immediately tried to put the crayon in her mouth.
Skinner knelt down next to her and pulled the crayon away from her mouth. //No, angel, we do not eat crayons. See the nice sheet of paper; watch as daddy shows you how to write on it.//
Skinner guided her hand to the paper and wrote his first sentence. [Gabriel, its Walter.]
Hunter watched as Hope's hand froze in front of her mouth and moved down to write on the paper. "Walter, where are you? Are you in this room with us?"
"What about Alex and Tony are they with you?" Hunter asked, excitedly.
Skinner looked up at Alex and Tony who were watching him guide Hope's hand. [Yes.]
"How long have you been here?"
[Since the beginning.]
Hunter looked puzzled. "Why have you waited until now to communicate with us?"
[Didn't know how.] Skinner kissed the top of Hope's head to calm her; she was getting tired of him guiding her hand.
"Walter, do you know what's been going on around here? I mean . . . ah . . . Fox going to Slava?"
"We've been trying to get him back diplomatically, the U.S. government has lodged several complaints with Slava."
[We know. Gabriel, we don't want those new sorcerers within the mansion -- can you rid of them?]
"Sorry, Walter, but with you and Alex suffering from SBS, and Fox not here, the Director has taken over all security decisions at the estate, and there is nothing I can do."
[Understood. Don't turn your back on them, we don't trust them.] Hope started whimpering. //Sorry, angel, daddy is all done now,// Skinner murmured, picking her up and hugging her against his chest.
"Wow," Spender said, amazed by the baby floating in midair.
Skinner smiled and kissed her one final time then passed the baby over to Spender. //Go see your Uncle Jeff, angel.//
The Winter Palace
Tuesday, March 1
Slava answered the telephone in his office, and his face quickly clouded over with rage. "You're sure, General? Okay, I'll fly down immediately," he slammed the phone back in its cradle.
"CAPTAIN MIKHIN!" he bellowed.
The n'thral captain quickly entered his office. "Yes, moi Tsar?"
"Have my plane ready for me at the airport, and call my limousine driver, I need to be in Moscow immediately." Slava stood and rushed out of his office, heading for his apartment.
Mulder impatiently stood in front of the giant aquarium in Slava's entertainment room, hoping that watching the fish would calm his nerves as he waited for Boris' plan to get the Tsar out of St. Petersburg for the day to work. He jumped when he heard the front door slam open and Slava's footsteps pounding across the marble floor.
"Yes, Nikolai?" Mulder said softly worried that his plans for escape had been discovered.
Slava pulled him into a tight embrace, crushing his lover's body against his broad chest. "Oh, my love, I have to leave you for the day. Some rebels are rioting and looting in Moscow, they've set several city blocks on fire."
Mulder sighed inwardly. "Do you have to go personally, Nikolai, couldn't you send someone else?" he asked, pretending to be worried about Slava's welfare.
"Yes, my regime is too new, it requires me to reinforce my rule over those that would challenge me. Don't worry, moi love, I should be back by tomorrow then we can spend the day in bed making love," he murmured, kissing Mulder's lips.
"Nikolai, am I free to visit Masataka while you're away?"
"Of course, my love, I'll inform Captain Mikhin to see to your needs until I return," Slava replied.
"Nikolai, couldn't you have Fyodorov attend to my needs, I'm not comfortable with your n'thral captain."
"Captain Mikhin can protect you, Fox, the sexual suppressant has him totally under control, so there is nothing for you to worry about," Slava said reassuringly.
Mulder looked at him sadly. "If you insist."
"Yes, I do. I'll see you tomorrow, moi love." Slava kissed him one final time then headed out of their apartment.
Mulder spent the next two hours pacing anxiously around the apartment. He was passing through the foyer for the twentieth time when Captain Mikhin entered.
"Master Fox, the Tsar asked that I escort you to see Mr. Izumi, and he's given me charge over your protection while he is away," Mikhin said proudly. "So if you require anything just ask me."
"Thank you, Captain Mikhin." Mulder followed the large n'thral to Izumi's studio. The Japanese artist stopped painting when they entered.
"Master Fox, it is good to see you again," Izumi said, bowing politely.
"Masataka, how is your latest project coming?" Mulder asked walking up to the smaller man and shaking his hand, and he leaned in and whispered. "Are you ready to leave?"
"*Yes* it's coming along wonderfully," Izumi responded.
Major Pyetr Yermolov stepped out from behind one of canvases that were scattered throughout the large workspace. "Captain Mikhin, if you don't want to get hurt I suggest you lay flat on your stomach and lace your fingers together behind your head."
"What is the meaning of this, Major?" Mikhin growled, approaching the smaller man.
Major Yermolov attempted to use his sorcerer powers to stop the large menacing giant. However, blue energy bolt he shot at him only made the n'thral angrier. Mikhin grabbed the young major by the throat and hoisted him off his feet into the air.
Mulder grabbed a chair and crashed it over the n'thral's back. Mikhin spun around still holding Yermolov by the throat with one hand, he grabbed Mulder's wrist with the other and pulled the immortal against his body. "So you planned to deceive my Tsar again, pretty one?"
"Let him go! You're going to kill him," Mulder growled, struggling uselessly.
"He's going to die all right, but it will be long and painful," Mikhin hissed, loosening his hold on the major's throat enough for him to breathe. The n'thral dragged them to the open door, turning to look back at Izumi. "I'll be back for you later, you can spend the evening in the dungeon and the . . . " Mikhin gasped as blood appeared on his lips.
Izumi watched, puzzled as the n'thral dropped Yermolov and let go of Mulder and staggered back into the room. When Mikhin turned to face the doorway Izumi saw the hilt of a knife sticking out of his back, it was imbedded between the Captain's shoulder blades. Izumi's eyes followed those of Mikhin's to the doorway where Fyodorov stood. Mikhin gurgled once in an attempt to speak then fell to his knees, his face twisted in rage as he tried to crawl to his attacker, making it only a couple of feet before losing the battle and his life. The little man stepped into the room and closed the door, he was wearing his heavy winter coat and fur hat.
"We must hurry, I know a secret tunnel that leads out of the palace, but we must be out before the sun sets because the tunnels will be crawling with ghouls," Fyodorov said.
Major Yermolov rubbed his bruised throat, accepting a helping hand up from Mulder. "Are you okay, Pyetr?" Mulder asked.
"Y� yes," Yermolov whispered. "What about him . . . do you trust him?" the major asked, looking worriedly at the Tsar's clairvoyant.
"No, but he did just save our lives so I think we should give him a chance to explain himself. Fyodorov, why are you helping us?" Mulder asked as he pulled on the heavy winter clothing that was stashed for him in Izumi's studio.
"I will be honest with you, Master Fox. I don't wish to die, and my life would have ended very painfully if I had remained here any longer. Escaping with you will at least allow me to see many more sunrises before my life comes to a relatively peaceful end," the little man answered sincerely.
Mulder pulled the heavy fur-lined hood over his head, which concealed his features within its depth. "Well then, Fyodorov, lead on," he said, noting that the other two men were ready to leave, too.
They followed the clairvoyant to an unused staircase that led down to the bottom level of the palace. Fyodorov guided them through several musty corridors then through a very old narrow corridor that looked like it hadn't been used in decades, at the very end was a heavy wooden door. The little man tried to open it, but it appeared to be stuck, Yermolov squeezed by him and placed his palm on the door and using his powers -- the door flew open.
The four men cautiously stepped into the tunnel. Fyodorov found two torches on the wall and lit them handing one to Yermolov while he took the other. "This way. Don't worry about the ghouls they are all sleeping and shouldn't bother us until the sun sets," he said as the light from his torch fell on several ghouls sleeping in recesses within the tunnel walls.
Mulder shivered with fear, it had been well over a year since he had to worry about ghouls. He followed closely behind Fyodorov, with Izumi behind him, and Yermolov protecting their rear. The tunnel was dank and smelled of death and decay. If he could survive this, hopefully it would be only a few more days before they are all safely in the United States. He prayed that his lovers and daughters were safe and that he could get to them in time before his country was invaded.
Continued in Chapter 7