Jimmy Bondage 15
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: 15
Sunday 4:05pm
He knew he had him now; there was no way he was getting away. Jimmy could take his time and savor his victory. After all the indignities he'd been put through, Jimmy wanted to indulge in a little payback before he called the police. Keeping Krycek's wrist firmly pinned above his head, he began tickling him lightly under his arm. He quickly discovered Krycek was more ticklish than Jimmy naturally was. Not the most ticklish guy Jimmy had ever straddled like this, but close. Having his erstwhile captor under him -- struggling uselessly, and begging him, between sobs of laughter, to stop the tickling -- was really turning Jimmy on. But if Krycek even noticed that he was being prodded in the stomach on top of his armpit being tickled by Jimmy's fingers, he didn't waste his scarce breath in objecting.
If only Jimmy could think of somethign to interrogate him about, if only as an excuse to prolong the tickling. He wondered if Krycek knew any secrets that anyone would be interested in. He had no idea what questions to ask. But it didn't matter; Jimmy had worse mistreatment to make up for, besides tickling. He stopped and sat up. He watched Krycek slowly catch his breath, staring up at him apprehensively, and tried to decide exactly what he should do to him. He considered using his belt, but that wasn't in reach. But something much better was.
"Before I turn you in, I'm gonna teach you a lesson." He grinned triumphantly down at Krycek, who looked terrified. He leaned over and grabbed the palm-top from under the desk. Studying the controls, he drawled, "You're gonna get a little taste of your own medicine."
The display was surprisingly user-friendly. There was a menu with items labeled Pain 1, Pain 2, Ticklish, Paralysis, and so on. He selected Pain 1. "Please select pain level," it prompted. There was a little slider labeled "Discomfort" to "Agony." He selected a value one notch above "Discomfort" and one below "Suffering." There was also an "Immobilize" section below the slider, with checkboxes for head, arms, torso, and legs, and a "More choices" button. He checked them all. That should hold him while he rescued Byers, assuming he was in the adjoining room he'd seen Krycek enter. If he was being somewhere else, he might need to edge the pain slider up little by little until Krycek told him where. After double-checking the settings, he aimed the pointy part at Krycek's exposed chest and pressed the "Go" button.
Immediately Jimmy's body went limp, and he collapsed on top of Krycek. He felt the man's cheekbone bash him in the chest like a hammer. At the same time, his entire body felt like it had landed in searingly hot water, but he couldn't move to escape from it. He lay there helplessly, feeling Krycek's cheek scraping away at his tender skin like sandpaper as the man tried to wiggle out from under him. Krycek managed to slide his hand free; Jimmy moaned as it scraped painfully along his side. He grabbed Jimmy's shoulder, crushing it in the process (or at least that's what it felt like) and pushed, rolling him onto his back. The carpet felt like wire bristles poking into his side as he rolled over, but felt soft on his back. The front of his body continued to burn painfully.
Then the pain suddenly was gone. Jimmy found he could move his head. The rest of him was still immobilized. Krycek was kneeling beside him, holding the palm-top, breathing like he'd just sprinted fifty yards, sweat running down his chest. Then, as his breathing returned to normal, he started laughing. He held up the palm-top. "Did you think it was a ray gun, Flash? I told you how it works. I probably shouldn't have told you anything, but it doesn't seem to have mattered."
"Oh, right," Jimmy said, mentally kicking himself. "Is has something to do with those manodots, doesn't it?" It was obvious now. "Guess I'm not cut out to be a spy."
"Your parents must be so disappointed, after giving you a name like that. Get up."
Jimmy found he could move now, but one leg and one arm dragged uselessly. Krycek made him crawl over to the bed. He struggled up on one knee and awkwardly managed to pull himself onto the mattress. Meanwhile, Krycek had plenty of time to put his shirt back on and button it all the way up.
"Do you want me face up, or on my belly?" Jimmy asked humbly. His back and butt still felt a little sore when he thought about it, and he had a feeling the pain was about to be renewed.
"Face up," Krycek ordered. Jimmy was a little surprised, but then he realized that Krycek didn't need to whip him anymore. He had a much higher tech way to torment him. Sure enough, once he was on the bed, Krycek paralyzed him completely from the neck down. He was helpless to resist as Krycek spread his arms and legs out.
"I could kill you," Krycek told him. "You know that."
Jimmy nodded, swallowing hard. Of course he knew that. Krycek had had him completely in his power from the beginning, except for that one brief chance he'd thrown away a minute ago. Now he was as defenseless as it was possible for a man to be. He was suddenly very aware of his nakedness.
There was a knock at the door. "Housekeeping!" came that voice again.
"Not again!" Krycek grumbled. He quickly made an adjustment on the palm-top.
"There. Can you talk?"
Jimmy tried to respond, but he couldn't make a sound. He tried to shake his head, but it remained turned toward the door, which he had automatically looked at when he'd heard the knock.
Krycek pinched him on the nipple and twisted. It hurt a little, but Jimmy was unable even to grunt or squeeze his eyes shut in reaction. Meanwhile, there was a second knock.
"If you're faking it, if you manage to make a single sound, this time it'll be Byers who gets punished for it. Got it?"
Jimmy tried to nod, but without success.
Krycek went to the door and opened it a little without removing the chain. Jimmy could see a sliver of achingly blue sky. A fresh breeze swirled through the room, and a ray of sunlight slipped past Krycek's dark form blocking the doorway as he looked down at whoever was standing there.
"Oh! I am sorry to disturb you, sir," came the same accented voice he'd heard a few hours ago, "but would you like your room cleaned?"
"No thank you," Krycek said politely, and started to close the door.
"But sir, I finished my other rooms. If I leave one uncleaned, I get in trouble."
"I can explain things to your supervisor, Miss..." he bent down further and leaned even closer to the door to peer at something, "Miss Walsh y Delora. I'm sorry if you had to stay late." He took a bill out of his pocket and handed it out the door.
"But sir--"
"Unless you'd like to explain to your boss why you ignored my Do Not Disturb sign?"
"I am sorry, sir," she said, sounding frightened. "But she tell me to clean all of my rooms before I go for the day."
"Tell you what. Why don't you leave me some fresh towels and take away the used ones. If anyone asks, I'll say the room was cleaned."
"Well--"
He handed more money out the door and said, "I'll be right back with the dirty towels," closing it firmly. "Same damn thing in every hotel in the world," he muttered.
A few minutes later the door was closed for good and they were shut up in the room again. Krycek dropped the pile of fresh white towels on the table by the door and returned to the bedside. "Now, where were we?"