Jimmy Bondage 11
Title: Jimmy Bondage
Fandom: The X Files and The Lone Gunmen (FOX, 1013 Productions, 2001)
Show-website: www.the-xfiles.com, www.thelonegunmen.com
Principals: Jimmy, Krycek, Byers
Rating: NC-17 (bondage, mild torture, some NC sex)
Part: 11
Saturday morning
"Please tell me you've been to bed since I last saw you here," Langly said as he set a cup of coffee by Byers's elbow.
"You know I would never lie to you. Is it morning already?"
"'Fraid so. Are you any closer than we were last night?"
"I have some leads, but I still haven't found him." He gratefully drank some of the coffee. "I'm glad you're awake. Could you--"
"Sorry man, but I've got treasure to steal, swords to brandish, potions to quaff, and all that."
"Langly--"
"I know. I want to find him too. Normally I'd just blow off the game. But you see, Lord Manhammer is trapped in the Dungeons of Despair with six giant tarantulas closing in on him. If I'm not there today, the GM will... OK, I know how that sounds. Don't look at me that way, Byers. If we had any real chance of finding him, you know I'd put even Jimmy's life ahead of a stupid game. But face it, man, we've lost the trail. There's nothing left to do but decide whether to keep giving Krycek what he wants." He picked up one of the beer bottles and reread the label. "University research lab. Piece of cake. Want me to take care of this one real quick before I go?"
"We can still track him down, if you help."
"And miss the game for nothing? I'm telling you, it's a lost cause."
"Jimmy dedicated his life to lost causes," Byers said softly. "He joined us because he believed we do too. You know he would search for us, no matter how hopeless it looked. He's done it! More than once."
Langly looked abashed, but made no move to sit down. Byers buried his face in his arms on the desk. He was so worn down that he was dangerously close to losing his composure.
"Oh, hey," Langly said softly. Awkwardly, he put a hand on Byers's shoulder. "The big dope really means a lot to you, doesn't he?"
Moved by the unusually gentle tone of concern in Langly's voice, Byers tried to ignore his irritation at his words. Langly never had any respect for Jimmy. If he couldn't respect his intelligence, at least he might respect his loyalty. Jimmy had lent them his entire life savings to keep the paper alive, not even expecting it back. And every time they repaid him, they wound up needing to borrow it back again, and he gave it to them gladly. Once he'd even allowed his beloved car to be repossessed rather than let them miss an issue! If he'd done that to keep the dream alive, he would certainly have given anything to keep his friends alive. Byers said softly, "If anything happens to him, and there's anything I could have done to prevent it..."
"I know. I've lost friends before. I know how it feels."
Byers stared at him. Langly had lost casual acquaintances before, like that guy in Las Vegas he knew from role playing games. Byers felt that this trivialized his own closeness to Jimmy, but it would be in bad taste to try to compare one person's grief to another. Surely Langly must have noticed his affection for Jimmy, even if he hadn't guessed how far it went.
"Or... maybe I don't know how it feels," Langly amended, obviously seeing something in his face. "Okay, okay. I'll stay. On two conditions. You let me make you some breakfast. And you go to bed by noon, after you fill me in, and get at least a few hours of sleep."
"Thank you, Langly. I'll never forget this. No matter... how this turns out."
Jimmy heard Krycek's sigh of relief from across the room. He was probably doing something illegal on his computer and had just avoided getting caught. Either that, or he was into computer games, like Langly. Maybe his intergalactic empire had just escaped some particularly nasty fate. Whatever it was, he brightened up considerably, but instead of relaxing he started purposefully typing away. Finally, he got up and stretched.
"Now that that's out of the way," he said, "let's check on your progress." Picking up his palm-top computer, he fiddled with it and then aimed the pointy part at Jimmy like a weapon for a few seconds. Nothing happened, but Krycek seemed very pleased with what he saw on the screen.
"Cool! Looks like they're all set." He stuffed the wash cloth back in Jimmy's mouth. Whatever he had in mind, it looked like it was going to involve screaming. Again he aimed the gadget at Jimmy. Maybe it was a weapon, not a computer. Nothing shot out of it, but Jimmy felt a painful sensation up and down his body. Krycek watched him writhe, looking smug. The pain subsided, and Krycek leaned over him and, as Jimmy watched, lightly scratched his belly with his fingernails. It felt like his skin was being clawed away! But it wasn't; not a single mark appeared. Krycek slapped him lightly in the chest, and it felt like Jimmy had done a belly-flop from the high dive. He punched him on the shoulder, just a love tap Jimmy might give a buddy, and it felt like Jimmy had tried to tackle a brick wall. A few light punches up and down his ribs, and he felt like he was being worked over with a baseball bat. But his ribs were somehow still intact, and he had a feeling there would be no bruises. Finally, Krycek pinched his nipple, and the world exploded in a blaze of pain.
When he came to, the gag had been removed. "W-what have you done to me?" he whispered.
"I injected you with biomedical nanobots. They've replicated over the past few hours and interfaced to your neural system. They're programmed with coded RF pulses from this palm-top."
Jimmy nodded thoughtfully, not understanding a single word. Somehow this was just the kind of thing he expected of Krycek -- whatever "this" was. He sure seemed well-equipped. Handcuffs, drugs, that electro-jerk-off gadget, and now "manodots." "Where do you get all this stuff, anyway?" he asked. "Some catalog for evil-doers?"
"What kind of catalog do you think sells stuff like this?"
"Acme?"
Krycek stared at him.
"You know, the one the coyote was always--"
"I know what you meant. I'm just trying to deal with the fact I walked right into it. Gave you a straight line. Just for that...." He grinned viciously. This couldn't be good.
He did something on his palm-top, pointed it at him, and nothing happened.
Until he reached out and touched him, ever so lightly. Jimmy cringed, expecting a jolt of pain. But it didn't hurt. It tickled! It tickled more than it had a right to. Usually Jimmy wasn't all that ticklish; it usually took a couple of minutes to really get him laughing, and few men were strong enough to force him to hold still for that long. Normally it took several guys ganging up on him, holding him down and working on him patiently, before he'd lose control and start laughing helplessly. Not this time. One light stroke along his side, and he was already laughing. His ribs were incredibly ticklish. The center of his chest was ticklish. His forearms were ticklish. His elbows were ticklish. Everywhere Krycek touched him, from his throat to the soles of his feet, produced about ten times the effect that tickling his armpits usually would. And he touched him just about everywhere he could reach. Just the feel of his shorts being tugged down tickled his pelvis, but not half as much as a human hand did a minute later. He thrashed around as much as his chains would let him, but couldn't escape Krycek's touch. He managed to kick him once, but not hard enough to inflict any serious damage. His shorts around his ankles impeded him, and he was weak from laughing.
Jimmy barely noticed Krycek leaving the room; he was too busy catching his breath. As he lay there gasping, and stretching his legs just to make sure they worked again, he started thinking about what peaceful uses this cool invention could be put to. "Tickle football" was the most obvious application. The only trouble with regular football, he felt, is that you have to wear all that padding and a helmet, and even then, one unlucky tackle can cause a knee injury that ends your career. Tackling is fun, most of the time, when no one got hurt, but there's always the risk. With this gadget, you could bring a guy to his knees by tickling instead of tackling him. If only Krycek would turn his skills to useful ends, it could revolutionize Monday nights!
Krycek came back holding an ice bucket with ice rattling around inside. Jimmy noticed he had strapped on his prosthetic arm before going outside. Setting down the ice bucket, he did something on his palmtop, and pointed it at Jimmy again. Nothing seemed to happen. Then Krycek took out a single ice cube and put it in his prosthetic hand. Jimmy realized right away what he was planning to do with it. And he could keep at it for a long time. His fake hand wouldn't feel the cold at all -- unlike Jimmy's naked body. He forced himself not to whimper, not to beg, but his feelings must have shown on his face, judging by Krycek's gleeful grin as he met his eyes. Krycek stuffed a washcloth in his mouth again, like he expected him to scream. Jimmy felt insulted. He'd had buddies stick ice cubes down his shirt lots of times. How bad could it be? He steeled himself and promised he would endure it stoically without moving or making a sound.
It was bad. Way more painful than was physically possible. Jimmy screamed into the washcloth and opened his eyes, surprised to confirm that it really was just an ice cube touching his chest and not a red hot ember. His eyes told him that his skin wasn't being harmed, but it felt like it should be blistering, smoking, turning black. He screamed himself hoarse as the ice slid slowly down his chest, down his belly, down his pelvis. He pried his eyes open again to assure himself that his balls weren't really being burned away. It was just ice. Just ice, not flaming oil blazing a trail down the inside of his leg.
"It's over," Krycek whispered in his ear, taking the washcloth out of his mouth and started tenderly mopping Jimmy's brow with the washcloth.
"Leave me alone! Don't touch me!"
"Whatever you say," Krycek said cheerfully.
He watched Jimmy silently sobbing, watched him pull himself together again.
"In fact, I'll skip the rest of my experiments on you. I've got another test subject, after all. It's time for him to do his share."
"Byers?" Jimmy whispered.
"Who else?"
"Please, no!"
"What, are you volunteering to do it instead?"
"Yeah. I can take it." He thought Byers could probably take it, too, but he couldn't stand the idea. "Whatever you think you have to do, do it on me."
"You sure?"
Jimmy was absolutely sure. Not that he wasn't scared of what would come next.
"OK, then. Just three more experiments. And good news: They won't hurt. Here goes the next experiment."
He picked up the palmtop and did something. This time there was an immediate effect. Jimmy's whole body started itching -- at least, the front of it, from his shoulders to his knees. He ached to scratch it, but his bound hands couldn't get anywhere near his body. He thrashed around helplessly, then thought of trying to flip over so he could at least rub himself against the sheets. But he was too exhausted to do even that.
"How does that feel? It's supposed to itch."
"It itches like anything!"
"I could scratch it for you, but you asked me not to touch you."
"You're a sadist, you know that?"
He suffered in silence for a few minutes, hoping the itch would go away. If anything, it seemed to be getting worse. "All right!" he finally yelled. "You can scratch me!" When Krycek didn't move, he added, "Please. Please scratch me."
Krycek scratched his belly. It felt great. The itching there was immediately relieved, and showed no signs of coming back again. The rest of his body felt jealous; it still itched fiercely. "My chest?" he asked hopefully.
"Let me hear you beg."
"Oh, man!" He saw that Krycek was not going to budge. "All right. Please! Please, please scratch my chest. I'm begging you! Ah! Oh man, that feels good. Higher, please!"
Krycek methodically worked his way around his body, but he made Jimmy continue asking for it, forcing him to undergo the humiliation of begging his captor to scratch his crotch, rub his balls, squeeze his cock. Finally, after he directed him to a few spots he'd missed, he was completely free of the itching.
"If you think you're under my control now," Krycek gloated, "just wait until you see this." He fiddled with the palmtop and pointed it at Jimmy.
Immediately, Jimmy's arms and legs cramped. Four charlie horses, all at once. He involuntarily tried to curl into a fetal position, which made it worse. The pain was excruciating.
Then suddenly he was able to stretch out again. The cramping had magically disappeared. His muscles felt a little sore as he stretched them, that was all.
"No more pain, you said. I should have known not to believe you," he groaned.
"Sorry. It wasn't supposed to work that way. That's why it was an experiment."
"What was it supposed to do?"
"It was supposed to take over motor control."
"You stole my car, too?!"
"No, motor control of your muscles. It was supposed to turn you into my puppet."
"W-what would you have done with me then?"
"Oh, I'd have thought of something." He grinned down at Jimmy. "Now, just one more experiment. I hope this one works like it's supposed to. I saved the best for last."
Jimmy didn't like to think about what might be "the best" in Krycek's mind. He still felt normal after Krycek finished with the palmtop and set it aside. He was exhausted, but lying there with the mild air currents from the air conditioner playing over his chest felt pleasant. Krycek approached and reached out to touch him again with his bare hand. Jimmy tensed, not knowing what to expect.
It was the last thing he expected. As Krycek lightly touched his chest, ripples of pleasure coursed through his body. He gasped and arched his back. The guy wasn't even touching a nipple, just the center of his chest, and he was still overwhelmed by the sensation. The hand moved to his belly, with the same result. He ran his fingers around the rim of Jimmy's navel, and unseen fireworks seemed to spiral out, some going straight to his cock, some washing over his chest. This fiend had no right to make him feel this good, after what he'd done to him and to Byers! Jimmy tried to wriggle out of the way, but he still hadn't recovered from what had gone before, and his efforts were feeble. Besides, he wasn't going anywhere, not while he was chained to the bed.
Krycek continued to merciless pleasuring, his hand roaming all over Jimmy's body. He'd been naked and helpless so long now, he'd almost started getting used to it. But this made him feel more exposed than even a naked man could naturally be, like an extra layer of clothing he hadn't even known he was wearing had just been stripped away.
It seemed to go on forever. When Krycek finally got bored and stopped, Jimmy was surprised to find that he was only half erect. It was hard to believe that he'd endured that much pleasure without coming.
"I think after that you owe me one more test."
"You promised--"
"I lied." Big surprise there. He pointed the gadget at Jimmy. He felt perfectly normal now, until Krycek reached out to stroke him and he tried to cringe. Nothing happened. He couldn't move his chest muscles. He couldn't rattle his chains. His legs wouldn't move either. Everything from the neck down was paralyzed. He felt Krycek lightly stroke his chest, but it didn't feel intimate at all, compared to how it had a minute ago.
"Can you move?"
"No, I can't! What--" he began, then had to stop for a second while he took another breath. "What did you do to me?" His lungs weren't working right; his breathing continued by itself and he had to time his speaking to use the air as it came out.
"It's temporary. I can turn it off with the press of a button, just like the other modes." Krycek pulled Jimmy's shorts, which had been bunched around his ankles, entirely off his body, and then spread his legs out wide. Jimmy felt the hand on his feet, but his legs still didn't respond to his will. "Now, what shall I do with you?"
"If you're asking me, I'd say you should leave me alone."
"Unfortunately for you, I was talking to myself. Are you sure you can't move?"
"Positive."
Krycek took Jimmy's balls in his hand, not hard enough to hurt, and rolled them around. It was maddening for his balls to be resting in another man's hand without being able to make a single move to defend them. Fortunately, his ball sac had a mind of its own and shrivelled as tightly against his legs as it could. "Interesting," Krycek muttered. "But you can't move your legs at all?"
"If I could, don't you think I would have?"
"Can you hold your breath?"
He tried. "No," he gasped.
"So you're completely helpless. This ought to be entertaining. Maybe I'll drag Byers in here so you can watch what I'm going to do to him."
Jimmy's gut clenched. "Please..." he whispered.
Krycek reached into his luggage and produce a large knife. He held the edge against Jimmy's chest. "Or maybe I'll bring him in here and make him watch while I flay you alive." The sharp knife shaved off a few chest hairs. Jimmy swallowed hard. He could feel the cold edge scraping against his skin.
Krycek set down the knife and got up. Jimmy was terrified that he was going to carry out his threat to bring Byers in here to watch him being skinned alive. Compassion was Byers's one weakness. Jimmy didn't think Byers would ever be whole again if he had to watch something like that. "Please, don't!" he begged.
But Krycek didn't go to the door. He came back with a key. Putting the knife between his teeth, he released one of Jimmy's arms. It feel heavily to his side. Pocketing the key, Krycek took the knife in his hand again and placed the edge against Jimmy's chest. "Don't what?" he asked, breathing heavily.
"If you're gonna do something awful to me, don't make Byers watch."
"You got it."
Jimmy watched in horror as Krycek drew the blade very lightly across his skin and made a tiny cut, hardly worse than a bad paper cut. A few drops of blood welled up. Krycek put the knife back between his teeth and unlocked the other arm. The only thing restricting Jimmy's movement now was those manodot things, but they did the job better than the chains had. He could only watch as Krycek put the knife against his chest again, seemed to change his mind, moved it down in the general direction of his crotch... Jimmy closed his eyes and waited for the worst.
He heard the knife being set down on the night table and opened his eyes. Krycek, looking relieved, was unlocking the handcuffs from his wrists.
"It works!" he said. "I can paralyze you anytime I want."
"You're not gonna cut me up?"
"No. That was just a test. I had to be absolutely sure you weren't faking it. But do you know what this means for you now?"
"What?"
"It means I can let you use the bathroom, even take a shower. And I can get you a real meal."
Saturday noon
Tired as he was, Byers lay awake for a long time. He couldn't get his mind off of Jimmy. Not only the predicament he was in now, but the way he felt for him, all the things he'd never told him that he might now never get a chance to say. He wasn't even sure he had it sorted out for himself. The way he felt about Jimmy was so different from the way he felt about the only other person he'd ever fallen seriously for, that it had taken him awhile to recognize the feeling. Could it really be called love? Love was something he'd only felt at a distance, for mysterious strangers, not for close and intimate friends.
Susanne had been brilliant, mysterious, and elusive, and Byers had felt a strong desire to protect her, but it was hard to win her trust. Sometimes he suspected she had used him. He respected her integrity in trying to blow the whistle on the black ops project for which she'd been developing chemical weapons. But the fact was, she had accepted the black ops money in the first place to pursue her research. It had been easy to forget that little detail when he was with her, but to be honest, that would have bothered him sooner or later if he'd been able to have a long-term relationship with her.
Jimmy could hardly be called brilliant, but he was more open with his feelings than any man Byers had ever known. Byers lived and worked with him and could spend time with him whenever he liked. Jimmy trusted everyone, obviously too much for his own good. And Byers had used him in his plan to rescue Langly, and he'd never complained. It was obvious that Jimmy -- who had once turned down a job offered as a bribe -- would rather starve than work in a chemical weapons lab. Even supposing, hypothetically, they they offered him a job he was qualified for. Washing test tubes, perhaps. And while Jimmy seemed like he really needed a good friend to protect him from his own foolishness -- something Byers had just failed miserably at -- he could see that Jimmy was fiercely protective of him in return. Definitely a two-way relationship.
And whereas he could never have Susanne, he had had Jimmy up until now: his constant solid presence, his respect, his utter devotion, and even his affection. Just not the kind of affection he truly wanted from him. He'd never dared to hint at that to him.
Byers turned onto his side, trying to get to sleep. He felt a little ashamed to find himself doing this trade study on the loves of his life, even in the privacy of his own mind. In any case, he couldn't count on seeing either of them again. To keep them both safe, he had to try as hard as he could to find Jimmy. And try equally hard not to find Susanne. He shouldn't be sleeping, not with Jimmy counting on him. But he was so tired that he couldn't think straight anymore. As it were.
Holding on to pleasant memories of the good times he had had with Jimmy, he was finally able to drift off into a troubled sleep.
Saturday afternoon
Krycek had gotten very quiet again, and once again was fingering Jimmy's little toe thoughtfully. He stood there for a long time, looking more and more unhappy, his face reflecting some inner conflict. Jimmy was too cowed to ask any questions, not with Krycek was in complete control of his body. Suddenly Krycek turned and walked quickly to the bathroom, and after a few seconds Jimmy heard the sound of retching.
A long time passed. When Krycek finally emerged from the bathroom, he walked slowly to his laptop computer and checked something. Whatever he saw seemed to relief him. He sat at the desk for a long time with his eyes closed, then took a deep breath and got up to put on his arm and his jacket. "I've gotta get out of here for awhile," he said. "I'll bring you back something to eat."
Saturday afternoon, 30 minutes earlier
Byers felt worse after his short nap than before it. He took a quick shower, dressed in a fresh suit, and had some coffee, but he still wasn't at his best. Langly filled him in. He'd hit a dead end. He'd managed to sniff out the packets Krycek was using to upload web pages to his server. It was running an FTP server after all, but it was firewalled against packets from most of the world. Unfortunately, the packets were coming from an anonymizer in California, so Krycek's physical location was untraceable.
The next deadline was less than half an hour away. He had no choice. Begging Langly to keep trying every trick he could think of, he sorted through the sixpack and chose one that seemed to involve some simple corporate espionage. It was E-Com-Con; they probably deserved it for trying to invade consumers' privacy. It wouldn't be the first time he'd tried to steal secrets from them. He knew he was rationalizing. That theft had been to expose a corporate conspiracy. Anyway, that seemed like a lifetime ago. It was before they'd met Jimmy. It was hard to believe there was a time before Jimmy was in their lives.
Normally he could have handled it, or at least had the sense to know when he was out of his depth. Langly was right there if he needed him. But in his exhaustion, he screwed up. He logged in through a back door without too much trouble, although it took longer than he expected. But as he was downloading the required information, something nagged at him. He checked, and realized he'd been detected by a security daemon almost five minutes before. Plenty of time for it to trace his connection. Too late, he called Langly over in a panic. They covered their tracks as best they could and logged out, but they both knew it would do them no good now.
Half expecting either the FBI or some corporate hitman to break down their door within the next five minutes, they were startled when the phone rang instead. He and Langly stared at it wide-eyed, as though it were a snake. Finally Langly answered it. His apprehension turned to surprise a moment after he said "hello."
"How did you-- It wasn't my incompetent breakin. It was Byers. But give the poor guy a break. He's-- We weren't doing it for money. ... No, you listen! Someone kidnapped Jimmy. He made us do this. ... Of course we tried to locate him! ... Yes, as a matter of fact, that did occur to us. Byers got desperate, because we're up against a deadline. Krycek threatened to-- Yes, that's exactly why we were sniffing around that anonymizer site. Krycek's hiding behind it. That one was me. Wait a minute, how did you know-- hello?"
Langly hung up the phone, the connection obviously having been broken in disgust from the other end. "Apparently, the division of E-Com-Con you broke into hired Yves to do their security. It was her that the daemon notified. She had some choice comments about how obvious a trap you fell into."
"I should have let you do it, Langly. But it seemed easy compared to trying to track Krycek down."
"Did you at least get the information? Because that countdown timer is reading twenty seconds."
Fingers trembling, Byers pasted the stolen information into the web form. The numbers hit zero and turned red, counting up, just a few seconds before he hit the Submit button. A dramatic touch, but at least the time Krycek spent setting up that detail was time he wasn't spending torturing Jimmy, or so Byers hoped. He fretted as he waited for the server to respond, willing the server to stop spending precious bandwidth and cycles sending the red digit graphics that were still counting up and spend it on receiving the data and alerting Krycek. He didn't dare try to mess with it at this point. Finally, he got an acknowledgement page ("Your complete submission has been noted.") Less than a minute late. Surely Krycek had waited. All he could do now was hope.