The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Mulder heard the shower stop, and a few minutes later there was a knock at the connecting door and Scully came in. She was wearing a t-shirt and jeans and her hair was still damp. Mulder was sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard watching TV.

“Who’s playing?” she asked him.

“Braves and the Cubbies. Two-all in the sixth. You want a drink?”

“Sure, thanks. I’ll get it.” Scully poured a little whiskey over a lot of ice and sat next to Mulder on the bed. She was barefoot, and he was bemused to see that she had pink nail polish on her toes. He found himself wondering if she was wearing a bra under her loose t-shirt, and then tried to stifle the thought. They talked baseball for a while with the easy familiarity of old friends, but inevitably the conversation returned to the case.

“What do you think of Trudi Bowman?” asked Dana.

Mulder pondered for a second. “Attractive, well-mannered, mature for her age. I had the feeling she was being very straightforward with us.”

Scully nodded. “That was my general impression too.”

“I hope for her sake that this incident doesn’t cause her too much trouble.”

“Well, I have a suspicion she was able to make it up to her boyfriend at least.”

Mulder looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you think she looked a little...disheveled?”

“You think...?” He sounded a bit shocked.

“Yes. She definitely had that look. Am I embarrassing you?” She was looking at him with amusement.

“Of course not, Scully. I’m just a little surprised you picked up on that and I didn’t.”

“Don’t feel bad, Mulder. It’s a woman thing.”

“If you say so. So maybe Trudi isn’t the angel I thought she was—do you think it’s possible she’s lying after all?”

“Not really. You can’t compare her having sex with her boyfriend to what happened in the convenience store.”

“I suppose not.” A mental image of Trudi Bowman getting it on in her boyfriend’s car formed in his head, and he felt a stirring in his loins. “It just makes me see her in a different light.”

“I bet it does, Mulder.” That came out sounding more harsh than she had intended. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. I guess I’m just jealous that a high school sophomore is having more fun than I am.” Did she actually say that? Now she was really putting her foot in her mouth.

“Why Scully, are you blushing?” teased Mulder. He was rather pleased at the direction the conversation was taking.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” she said, smiling ruefully. “But yes, my personal life leaves something to be desired.”

Mulder put his hand on hers. “Dana, you can tell me anything.” She was looking down, not meeting his eyes, but she didn’t take her hand away.

“I know that, Fox,” she said finally. “It’s just that some topics are a bit awkward, especially in this situation.” She gestured at the bed. “We’re professional partners who happen to be of the opposite sex.”

“Working for an organization that frowns on any sort of romantic relationships between its employees,” he agreed. He was still holding her hand. “But I think it’s silly to keep pretending that we aren’t attracted to each other.”

With no makeup and flushed cheeks, she looked younger than her age and touchingly vulnerable. He put his other hand under her chin and tilted her head up gently, and then he leaned forward and kissed her. She didn’t resist, and they held the kiss for several long seconds.

Dana finally pulled back and took a deep breath. “What are we doing?” She wasn’t angry or upset; it was an honest question.

“Just what we have both been thinking about for a long time.”

She opened her mouth as if to object, and then just nodded. “I suppose you’re right. But that doesn’t mean we should become involved.” She squeezed his hand and then withdrew hers. “It’s getting late. We better get some sleep.”

Mulder didn’t feel much like sleeping, but he didn’t want to push it.

“Sweet dreams,” he said, opening the connecting door for her and then quietly shutting it behind her.

The man kept his distance as he followed the girl on the bike through the dark streets of Hallville. There was almost no other traffic, and he didn’t want her to become suspicious. On the other hand, he was desperate to find out what she and Trudi had talked about. He had been watching the house all evening, parked a little ways down the street, and he had seen the FBI agents come and go. He had a feeling that the situation in Hallville, which had been going so well until a few days ago, was slipping out of his control, and he desperately wanted to pump the girl for information. But trying to control someone without a specific sexual attraction to focus in on was risky—especially a female.

Letting the truck drift a little closer to the girl, he stared at her intently, trying to read her emotional state. A satisfied smirk broke out on his face.

“You little minx,” he thought to himself. “You have a thing for Trudi Bowman, don’t you.” He had pulled up right behind her now.

“Oh yes, you’ve got it bad,” he whispered out loud. “You’re going tell me all about Trudi, aren’t you.”

As they approached a particularly dark stretch of street, the man pulled up alongside the girl and reached out with his mind.

Amy had been daydreaming about Trudi, trying to imagine her having sex with Gene and wondering whether this would change their own relationship. Suddenly, she felt a surge of desire for her friend. Gliding to a stop, she stood straddling her bicycle in the darkness, transfixed by a vivid mental image of Trudi. She imagined herself hugging her tightly, and then kissing her neck and her soft lips, sliding her tongue into her mouth.

“Thinking about Trudi Bowman?” Amy hadn’t even noticed the pickup truck that had stopped next to her. She should have been startled out of her shoes, but she just turned her head and squinted through the darkness. All she could see was a shadowy figure behind the wheel. Something very strange was going on—she felt like she was half asleep, or drugged.

“Yes, thinking about Trudi.” Her voice was slow and even, and seemed to come from somewhere other than her own mouth.

“She’s beautiful isn’t she. Those full breasts, those long legs...” The voice was offhand and reflective. “I bet she’d be great in the sack.”

Amy nodded dumbly. A feeling of lust was spreading through her body, and she had a sudden urge to masturbate. She put her hand between her legs and massaged her crotch through her jeans.

“I bet you would like to sleep with Trudi, wouldn’t you. I bet you’d like to eat her pussy and make her come.” Amy moaned and rubbed harder.

The man laughed quietly. “You better get your jeans out of the way if you’re going to do that right.”

Amy wordlessly unzipped her jeans and pushed them and her panties down a few inches to the crossbar of the bike. Now her fingers were able to dive into the slick wetness between her legs, pushing, pulling, and spreading her secret areas and sending waves of pleasure through her body. She thought about Trudi sitting cross-legged on her bed with her loose pajamas revealing her long, creamy thighs and the edge of her pussy, and she imagined gently pushing Trudi back onto the bed, sliding the pajama bottoms off, spreading her legs apart...

“That’s enough for now. I have a few questions for you. Put both hands on the handlebars.” The mans voice was more insistent now, and she had to obey.

With a whimper, she reluctantly pulled her right hand out from between her legs and put it on the handlebar grip. Her hand was slippery from her juices, and the grip felt cold and alien after the warmth of her pussy. Her body was still aching for release.

“What does Trudi remember about what happened at the Road Pantry the other night?”

“Not very much, just that she, uh, had sex with the guy right there on the counter.”

“Why? Does she remember why she had sex with him?”

“No, not really. Well, yeah. There was this other man there who she thinks made her do it.”

“How?”

Amy was squirming, trying to stimulate herself without taking her hands off the handlebars, but the crossbar of the bike between her legs was preventing it.

“Um...hypnosis or something. The FBI guy told her that, I think.” Amy’s voice was hoarse and throaty.

“Answer my questions and then you get to finish diddling yourself. Now, this is extremely important. What does she remember about the other man in the store?”

“Nothing... just that he was telling them what to do, and they couldn’t help themselves.” A thought worked its way into her head. “It was you, wasn’t it? You’re the guy who did it.”

The man ignored this. “Does she remember anything about what the man looked like?”

“No, not really. Except that she had a feeling that maybe she had seen him somewhere before.”

He had been afraid of that. The man thought it over for a few seconds. Amy’s hands were restlessly squeezing and turning the handlebar grips, and she was making little whining sounds.

“Why are the FBI agents so interested in what happened?”

“They think that all those girls who got pregnant might have been hypnotized, too. They were angry that the police didn’t tell them about that. I think they are going to talk to the police again tomorrow.”

Shit. That was all he needed. He thought he had the police well taken care of, but he didn’t like the idea of the FBI going back and interrogating that pathetic excuse for a police chief Schroeder again. It looked like he was going to have to take matters into his own hands with the FBI.

He turned his attention back to the girl. “I’m leaving now, and you can play with your little pussy all you want. You won’t remember me or anything about my questioning you.” He gunned the engine and took off.

With a gasp of relief, Amy put both of her hands back between her legs, and she soon had worked two fingers inside herself while she rubbed her clit with her other hand. She came within a few seconds, a sharp wave of pleasure that seemed to come out of nowhere, and the force of it seemed to clear her head.

She looked around, dazed. “Trudi....?

What the hell was she doing, masturbating in the middle of the street like this? She wiped her fingers on her thigh and quickly pulled her jeans and panties back up. Looking around, she saw she was alone on the dark street. As she pedaled the rest of the way home she thought about Trudi, but she never remembered the man in the blue pickup.

Scully drifted out of a deep sleep before her alarm sounded, and underwent a few moments of disorientation as she looked around the unfamiliar motel room. Then she remembered the events of the previous evening, specifically the out-of-the-blue kiss from Fox, with a jolt that brought her fully awake.

She lay in bed thinking it over for a few minutes, watching the orange glow from behind the thick curtains become brighter with the sunrise. It was clear that Fox wanted to start a relationship. This was flattering, of course, although she supposed she wasn’t surprised. But the risks associated with becoming involved with Fox were considerable. If the Bureau found out, they would both be disciplined, and one of them, maybe both, would be transferred. In fact, there was a good chance that the X-files investigations would be shut down completely, since they were a self-contained unit with only mixed support from the Bureau.

And what about the up side? She did have strong feelings for Fox—she dreamed about him almost every night, for God’s sake. Maybe they should just quit the FBI and do something else. It wasn’t unheard of for two FBI agents to fall in love and leave the Bureau together; “eloping”, it was called. But when she thought about it analytically, she and Fox together didn’t seem quite right somehow. Fox was a bit too...out there. The 64-thousand dollar question, she thought to herself, was did she really want to get involved with someone who fully believed that his sister had been abducted by aliens? The answer was a resounding maybe. In any event, they were in the middle of a very sticky case and this was no time to be thinking about her love life.

With a sigh, she got out of bed and started getting ready for a long day. When Fox knocked on the connecting door she was dressed and eating a granola bar.

“Morning, Scully.” He looked a uncertain, even a little nervous.

“Morning, Mulder. Ready to go?”

“Yes, I’m all set. Listen, about last night... I hope I wasn’t too out of line.” He looked so earnest, she felt a little sorry for him.

“No, you weren’t. And I’m sorry I ran out like that. Listen, Mulder, let’s not talk about this until we get back to Washington, OK? Maybe it’s just something they put in the water out here.”

This brought a smile. “I doubt it, but that sounds like a good idea anyway.”

Outside, it was shaping up to be a nice day—sunny and cool. “I think we should drop in on Chief Schroeder first thing,” said Mulder as they got in the car. “See if we can catch him off guard.”

“I agree. We might want to remind him that the Bureau doesn’t take it kindly when local authorities hold back on their agents.”

“Right.” It was still before 9 am when they parked in front of the police station. Mulder put on a pair of sunglasses before they got out.

“Trying to look like a Bureau hardass, Mulder?”

“Yeah, I wish I could do it without the shades like you can.”

Inside, the female dispatcher told them that Chief Schroeder was on his morning rounds and wouldn’t be in for a while.

“We’ll wait,” said Mulder grimly. They hovered menacingly near the entrance, doing their best to make the dispatcher feel uncomfortable. After a few minutes, they saw her get on the radio and say something about the FBI.

Schroeder came in about five minutes later. Judging from his expression, the receptionist had mentioned that the agents didn’t look too happy.

“Nice to see you folks again,” he said with forced cheer. “If you had called to let me know you were coming, I wouldn’t have kept you waiting.”

“If you have a few minutes, we would like to talk in your office,” said Mulder politely. Schroeder just nodded and led the way. He had clearly taken stock of the situation, and he didn’t waste any more time with small talk. It occurred to Scully as they walked through the office area that Schroeder actually seemed like a pretty competent cop.

Once they were seated, Mulder got right to the point. “We talked to Trudi Bowman and her mother yesterday. They told us about the recent rash of teenage pregnancies in Hallville. Apparently it’s caused a lot of concern around town, even to the extent of a town meeting a few weeks ago.” He let that hang in the air.

“That’s right,” said Schroeder. “It has caused a lot of concern. It’s not exactly a police matter, though.”

“From what Mrs. Bowman told us, a lot of parents disagree,” said Scully. “But our real concern is that neither you or your deputy mentioned this when we talked to you yesterday morning. It seems to indicate a rather serious lack of cooperation.”

Schroeder looked appropriately uncomfortable. “I guess that was an oversight on our part.”

“That may be,” said Mulder. “But I should inform you that our working hypothesis is that there is sexual predator currently active in Hallville, and that it appears that a police cover-up may be part of the problem.”

“Damn it.” Schroeder was shaking his head. “This has gone on long enough.” He picked up the phone and dialed an internal extension.

“Alan, can you come into my office?”

They waited in silence until Deputy Alan Johnson came in and sat down. He didn’t look particularly surprised to see them.

“Alan, Agents Mulder and Scully are accusing us of holding back on the teen pregnancy thing. I think we need to come clean.” He seemed to be waiting for Johnson to make the next move.

Johnson gave Schroeder a long look and then nodded. “All right. Chief Schroeder and I have been investigating the teen pregnancy problem for months. We suspected some kind of hypnosis was going on well before that incident at the road pantry.”

Mulder and Scully glanced at each other. This certainly wasn’t what they had expected.

“Why didn’t you tell us this yesterday?” asked Mulder.

“I want to apologize to you folks for that,” said Schroeder, looking embarrassed. “It was poor judgment on our part. The fact is, we’re close to an arrest and we didn’t want the FBI stealing our thunder, as it were.”

The agents looked dumbfounded. “You have a suspect?” asked Scully.

Johnson nodded. “In fact, we’re pretty sure we have our man. The problem is proving it. We can place the guy at the reservoir on the nights when some of the girls probably got pregnant. But no one remembers actually being attacked. We seriously doubt that anyone would press charges.”

“I see your point,” said Mulder. “Listen, we aren’t trying to steal anyone’s thunder. In fact, we prefer to keep a low profile. Our concern is catching this guy and finding out what makes him tick. Tell you what—we nail this guy together, and then you get credit for the arrest and we take over custody.”

Schroeder looked over at Johnson, who nodded. Scully found herself wondering which one of them was running the show.

“Sounds good,” said Johnson. “But like I said, we don’t have any hard evidence.”

“I have an idea,” said Mulder. “I know quite a bit about hypnosis and repressed memories, and after talking to Trudi Bowman I’m convinced she will recognize the guy when she sees him. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if seeing him triggers her memory and causes her to remember the entire incident. Do you know where the suspect lives?”

Schroeder nodded. “Yep.”

“Then let’s arrest him based on your circumstantial evidence. That lets you hold him for 24 hours, and we can have Trudi try to ID him.”

“Wait a second,” objected Scully. “Won’t that be dangerous? We already know what this man is capable of.”

“I think Agent Mulder is right,” said Johnson. “We’re better off making an armed arrest on our terms and getting him into custody.

“And what if he tries to control our minds when we arrest him?” asked Scully. “We just shoot him on the spot?”

“Exactly,” said Mulder. “With a high-powered, rapid-acting tranquilizer dart specifically designed for humans.”

There was a moment of silence.

“You, uh, got one of those?” asked Schroeder. He appeared worried that Mulder was expecting him to have one in his desk. “We operate on a limited budget here.”

“In the trunk of our car,” said Mulder. “Right next to the silver cross we use for vampires.”

“In that case, lets go,” said Johnson with a grim smile.

Scully still thought they were being too rash, but she couldn’t think of a valid excuse to hold back. Mulder had that wild look in his eye that he always got when he thought they were getting close to something big, and she doubted that she would be able to talk him out of it anyway.

“Why don’t I take Agents Mulder and Scully to the suspect’s house right now.” said Johnson. “Our surveillance shows that this is a good time of day to catch him at home.”

“All right,” said Schroeder. “Be careful,” he added, looking at Scully.

After getting the dart gun from the trunk, the agents got into a police cruiser with Johnson. Mulder sat in the back and started setting up the gun, which looked like an oversized pistol. They drove away from the main highway through the outskirts of the town, ending up in a wooded area with widely-spaced houses. Johnson turned into a narrow gravel road marked with a single mailbox and pulled over to the side.

“Guy lives a few hundred yards down this way,” he said. “No point in letting him hear us drive up.”

They walked quietly along the side of the narrow track until they came in sight of a surprisingly modern A-frame house.

“I was expecting something more rustic at this point, " murmured Scully.

“It’s a nice place, " agreed Johnson. “Looks like he’s home,” he added, pointing to a blue pickup truck. “So how do you want to do this?”

Mulder thought it over for a few seconds. He was tempted to just kick in the door and rush in, but that was asking for trouble. “Lets knock and say we have a few questions about a traffic accident. Soon as he opens the door we take him. I’ll warn him right away that if he tries any hypnosis stuff I’ll tranq him.”

“Sounds good,” said Johnson. He looked at the dart gun. “Better hide that contraption for now.”

Mulder managed to hide the gun under his coat, and they walked cautiously up to the door. Johnson reached out and knocked firmly. No response. Scully peered into one of the large windows that flanked the front door, shading her eyes against the reflection.

“I don’t see any lights or activity.”

They knocked several more times without any response, and then Johnson pulled out a ring of keys. “Lets check it out,” he said, selecting a key. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, revealing a tiled entry leading into a large, sparsely furnished living room with a high, beamed ceiling.

“After you.” Johnson stood to one side and let the agents go in first. Mulder led the way, taking a few steps into the entry and then listening for any activity. Nothing. Scully followed behind cautiously, her gun in her hand.

“How did you get a key to the front door?” she asked.

Behind her, Johnson chuckled. “Well, it’s my house.”

This took a few seconds to register. “Your house?” she repeated.

“That’s right. Now both of you, put your guns on the floor.” They didn’t need to turn around to know that he was pointing a gun at them, it was clear from his tone of voice.

“God damn it,” swore Mulder. He felt like an idiot. It all seemed so obvious now. He glanced over his shoulder at Johnson, weighing the risks. Scully was already bending over, setting down her gun, and he had a clear shot. But before he could move a blast of white noise filled his head, like static from an untuned radio, and he staggered and almost fell.

“Put it down, Mulder.” The voice seemed to bypass his mind and go straight to his body. He slowly leaned over and dropped the tranq gun onto the floor, almost losing his balance again. The world had receded away from him, and he was having difficulty concentrating. What the hell was going on? They were in serious trouble, but suddenly all he could think about was having sex with Dana.

Trudi sat in the school cafeteria by herself, picking aimlessly at a bagel. It was mid-morning, and the big room was almost empty. She had a free hour before her next class, and all she felt like doing was stretching out on the bench seat and taking a nap. After Amy had left last night she had been unable to fall asleep for hours, and when she finally did her dreams had been filled with jumbled but vivid images of that fateful night in the Road Pantry. She had woken up this morning in a cold sweat with the bed covers twisted around her body.

The memories were coming back, just like that cute FBI agent had said they would. Foxy Mulder, she thought to herself, stifling a giggle.

One image in particular kept forming in her mind. She was on her knees, naked, with the taste of Vince’s cock still in her mouth, and she was looking up at the man standing on the other side of the counter.

Each time the image formed the man’s face seemed a little bit clearer, and she now knew for sure that she had seen him before. But where? She was getting frustrated, trying to place him. It was like trying to remember a name that has slipped your mind—when she concentrated on it directly she got nowhere, but when she thought about something else the man’s face would drift tantalizingly back into her mind.

She looked around the cafeteria absentmindedly, wishing that Gene or Amy were here to cheer her up, but they were both in class. On the wall to her right she noticed one of the new posters reminding the students to use contraception. A smiling cartoon character shaped like a condom was hopping into a girls purse. “Going on a date?” the condom was saying. “Don’t forget to take me along.”

A variety of these posters, all with similarly thoughtful messages, now graced the halls and common areas of Hallville High. A few months ago the presence of such light-hearted plugs for birth control in school would have been unthinkable, but recent events had caused the parents and teachers to take drastic measures. The posters had been one of the ideas raised at the town meeting a few weeks ago. Trudi recalled with amusement how the parents had booed the police officer when he had suggested giving the kids condoms, but then they had ended up voting for the posters by the end of the night.

She frowned as she felt a little tickle of recognition in the back of her mind. Something about the town meeting was connected to the man in the convenience store, but what?

Suddenly it clicked into place, and adrenaline flooded into her body making her suck in her breath with an audible gasp.

The police officer who spoke at the town meeting was the man in the convenience store! She couldn’t remember his name, but she was sure it was the same man.

She sat, stunned, trying to think. What should she do? Finally, she remembered the card Agent Scully had given her. She rummaged through her purse and found it, then went to the pay phone on the wall of the cafeteria. She dialed the first number, and it rang several times with no answer. Same with the second number. She kept trying for 15 minutes, plugging the same quarter in over and over and alternating the numbers, but no one answered.

Now Trudi was getting scared. The agents had been planning to go back to the police station this morning to accuse them of covering up the pregnancy problem—it wasn’t difficult to figure out what must have happened. They were probably in big trouble.

She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. What you normally did in this type of situation was call the police. But the police were the bad guys now. She thought about telling Gene, or even Amy, but was it fair to put them in danger? Anyone else she talked to, like a teacher, would either not believe her or insist on calling the police. She was on her own.

What would they have done with the agents? Or maybe it was just one officer acting on his own. It seemed more likely that it was just the one officer, she decided. When the FBI agents showed up again and started making accusations, he must have decided they were on to him and taken action. Would he have killed them? Possibly, but that would just bring more attention to what was happening in Hallville.

She thought about what the mans options were, and the answer suddenly seemed obvious. He must be planning to hypnotize them to make them forget everything they had found out. Trudi bit her lip nervously. If the FBI agents told the man that she was starting to remember what happened at the Road Pantry, she was in danger too.

The outline of a plan formed in her mind. She picked up the phone again and called the number of the Hallville police department, which was posted above the phone.

“Police, can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m trying to remember the name of someone who works there—I need to talk to him. He’s thin, with a narrow face and short black hair.”

“Do you know if he is a full time officer or a volunteer?” The woman sounded helpful.

“Full time officer, I think.”

“Well, then that sounds like Alan Johnson, the Deputy Chief.”

That was him—she remembered the name from the meeting. “That’s the name, thank you.” She was about to hang up, but on the spur of the moment she asked, “Is he there?”

“Let me see... no. He’s on duty, but he’s not at the station. Do you want to leave a message?”

“No, thank you.” She hung up the phone. So far, so good. She felt better already, now that she was taking action.

She went down the hall to Gene’s locker and opened it up. Feeling around in his coat pockets, she found his car keys. The smell of the leather reminded her of snuggling up to Gene, and she was sorely tempted to get him out of class somehow and have him help her. But she was somehow convinced that having been controlled once by the man, she would now be able to resist. And that meant she had to do this on her own. She closed the locker and hurried out into the parking lot, keeping a wary eye out for hall monitors.

The Camaro was parked in the usual spot, and she quickly got in and started the engine. A series of sharp backfires reverberated around the lot, making her cringe. In her nervous state, she expected people to start running out of the school to see what was going on, but nothing happened. Taking a deep breath, she eased out of the lot and headed for home.

Johnson collected the guns from the floor and ordered Mulder and Scully into the living room. He followed behind, watching them carefully.

“Have a seat,” he said, indicating a large couch. Mulder sat down awkwardly, moving like someone who was sleepwalking. Johnson had blasted him with a dose of mind control as a precaution against any heroics, and it would be a few minutes before he started to recover. Scully appeared much more alert and aware of her surroundings as she took a seat next to Mulder. Johnson could feel the attraction she had for her partner lurking under the surface, but she was controlling her sexual urges for the moment. He eased into a leather armchair facing the couch.

“What... are you?” asked Scully.

“Hmmmm. That’s a tough one to answer,” said Johnson in a friendly tone of voice. Now that he had the situation in hand, he was feeling indulgent. “I’m human, of course. But with a few, shall we say, special abilities. I’m not going to bore you with the whole story, but we call ourselves Incubi.”

“Like the mythical evil spirit that attacks women while they sleep?” Scully was desperately trying to collect her thoughts. Johnson’s rural accent and good old boy mannerisms had disappeared, and he now spoke with an odd inflection she didn’t recognize. Whatever or whoever he was, it was obvious that they were out of their depth. She snuck a glance at Mulder. He looked about as lifelike as a department store mannequin, and her heart sank.

“Yes. Not a perfect analogy, but close. We don’t have intercourse with our subjects, we just encourage their lust and then feed off the sexual energy they generate.” He gave her a thin smile. " And, of course, we aren’t mythical.”

Scully could feel her mind starting to clear somewhat, but she couldn’t bring herself to take any decisive action. A not-unpleasant feeling of relaxation had spread throughout her body, and getting up off the couch to try and run away seemed like a ridiculously overwhelming prospect. The only thing she could think of to do was to keep Johnson talking.

“Are you really a police officer?”

“Oh yes. I’ve worked in law enforcement for years at various places around the country. It makes a good cover. I was passing through Hallville about six months ago, and it turned out to be a great situation for me. Now I’ll have to be moving on, thanks to you.”

“Why was Hallville such a good place for you?”

Johnson chuckled. “Well, you wouldn’t know it from looking at him, but Chief Schroeder is a homosexual. He hides it pretty well, but I picked up on it right away when I stopped by the station to see if they might be hiring. Schroeder was kind enough to give me a convincing demonstration of his sexual orientation with one of his volunteer officers while I took some Polaroids.”

“So you blackmailed Schroeder into making you his second-in-command?” Scully now understood the strange dynamic that existed between the two.

“Yes. Quite a step up from my last job, actually. I was free to ride around Hallville on my own, and Schroeder would even cover for me when I wasn’t where I was supposed to be. He knows he would be run out of town on a rail if those pictures got out.”

Johnson felt the familiar tingling in his blood, and he licked his lips. He needed to feed, and feed deeply. In a few hours he was going to be back on the road, living by his wits, and he wanted to sate himself while he had the chance. Mulder was blinking and looking around, and Johnson decided to get started. He leaned forward in his chair.

“Ms. Scully, how do you feel about Agent Mulder?”

Dana felt the curious lightheaded feeling come over her again. Her body seemed to tingle, like the nerve endings in her skin had suddenly become twice as sensitive, and her nipples hardened and pressed uncomfortably against her bra.

“I... have many strong feelings for Fox,” she mumbled lamely. She seemed to have become unable to form any independent thoughts.

“Yes, I sensed the attraction between you the first time we met. Would you agree that those ‘many strong feelings’ include physical attraction?” He was toying with her, taking his time.

“Yes, I suppose so.” Dana licked her lips and shifted restlessly on the couch. She could feel the moistness forming between her legs, and a sudden, intense wave of desire left her momentarily breathless.

“Well, you should be happy to know that he feels the same way about you.” Indeed, Fox was staring hungrily at Dana, and a noticeable bulge had formed in his pants.

“I think you really want to suck his cock.”

Dana shuddered. It was as if her innermost desires had been enunciated for the world to hear, and now that the secret was out there was no reason to hold back. She fumbled with Mulder’s zipper and managed to work his pants down off his hips. He groaned as Dana unhesitatingly engulfed his cock in her mouth, sucking it to the back of her throat as if she wanted to swallow it whole. It had been a long time since she had sucked cock, and she had forgotten how much she enjoyed it. She expertly used her mouth and tongue on him, alternately taking his cock fully into her mouth and then pulling back and swirling her tongue around the head, and soon she had brought Mulder up to the edge of orgasm. She wanted to feel him explode into her mouth, and to swallow every drop of his hot semen.

“That’s enough.” The words had an effect like a whip cracked across her back, although the voice was still calm and even. She flinched and let the cock slide out of her mouth. Mulder looked at her with a tortured look on his face, his eyes glazed with lust.

“No...don’t stop. Please, Dana.....don’t stop.” His voice was pleading and hoarse.

“Now, now, Agent Mulder,” chided Johnson. “Where are your manners? She hasn’t even come yet and all you can think about is your own pleasure. Now stand up and take off your clothes.”

Mulder leaned forward and took off his shoes and socks, and then staggered to his feet, his slacks and boxer shorts slipping to the floor. He stepped out of them, and then fumbled with the buttons of his dress shirt, finally getting it off. He stood fully naked over Dana, and she felt another wave of desire build inside her as she stared hungrily at his lean, sinewy body and his rigid cock, which was still moist from her mouth. It twitched upwards, as if it had a strange life of its own, and she could see a vein pulsing impatiently in the shaft. She longed to absorb it into the warm, protective core of her body, to constrict herself around it until every ridge and contour was molded to her and it became a part of her.

“Very good, Mulder.” Johnson’s voice was even and conversational; he might have been discussing the weather. “I know you want to fuck her, but I need you to do something for me first. I need you eat her pussy and make her come. Would you mind?” It wasn’t really a question.

Mulder dropped to his knees in front of Dana. She was already unzipping her slacks, and she lifted her hips up to help him as he slid them down her legs and off. She slouched lower on the couch, and he repeated the process with her panties, revealing her reddish brown thatch and her dark pink pussy lips, which were glistening with little beads of moisture. They could both smell her warm, musky scent. He pushed her knees apart and buried his head between her smooth, white thighs, his tongue greedily seeking her sex.

Dana inhaled sharply as Fox’s tongue pushed into her pussy, separating the inner lips and then sliding upwards until the tip brushed against the nub of her clit. A jolt of pleasure so intense that it was nearly pain radiated outward into her body, and she was dimly aware of a high-pitched mewling sound coming from her throat as she thrust her hips forward against his mouth. The tongue found her clit again, and this time Mulder kept it there. A wave of sensation washed through Dana’s body, rapidly bringing her to a climax more intense than any she had ever felt. Instead of satisfying her, it only made her want more, and she ground her pussy against Mulder’s mouth with single-minded ferocity.

Again and again she was pushed over the edge, her head snapping backwards and the cords in her neck standing out as she moaned uncontrollably in response to the irresistible climaxes erupting in her body. With each orgasm, Johnson closed his eyes and absorbed the potent waves of sexual energy into his body with a grateful smile. Slowly the climaxes became less intense and more widely spaced, and finally Dana collapsed back onto the couch in a limp, exhausted heap.

“Congratulations Mulder, that was excellent work.” Johnson was leaning back in the armchair and gazing complacently at them through half-closed lids, like a lion after gorging itself on a kill. He motioned languidly at Dana with one hand. “Now go ahead and fuck her brains out.”

Dana was dimly aware of being pulled forward by her legs until her hips were even with the edge of the couch. An arm hooked under each knee and lifted her legs upward, and then she felt Mulder’s warm, smooth cock slide easily inside her, like a key fitting into well-oiled lock. She barely had the energy to keep her eyes open, much less devote any more energy to sex, but she enjoyed the pleasant warmth that spread through her as Fox drove himself into her with increasing force, his lean hips slapping against her thighs and his handsome face contorted with silent effort. Finally, he made an animal grunting noise and she felt hot jets of semen spurting deep inside her. When he was finished he sprawled forward and lay his head on her chest, panting loudly, and she drifted off to sleep.

When she woke up she was lying lengthwise on the couch. She was still naked from the waist down, and her pussy felt tender and swollen. It didn’t seem like she had been asleep for very long, although she felt refreshed. She glanced around the room without moving, trying to assess the situation. Mulder was sitting in a chair on the other side of the large living room, drinking a can of soda and eating a candy bar. He was still completely naked, and she couldn’t assess his mental state. She didn’t see Johnson anywhere. With a surge of adrenaline, she suddenly realized that she wasn’t under the influence of Johnson’s hypnosis. Could he have left?

She carefully swung her legs to the floor and sat up. The blinds covering the large windows, which had been open when they arrived, were now tightly closed, and the room was dim and quiet. Outside she could hear the faint sound of birds chirping. There was still no sign of Johnson. She stood up and started walking quietly towards Mulder.

“Ah, I see you’ve woken up.” Johnson was standing in a doorway that led into a bedroom, holding a battered leather suitcase. “That’s good—I haven’t quite finished with you yet.”

Dana’s blood ran cold. She thought about trying to run, but the unnatural lethargy was creeping through her body again and her initiative was fading. Johnson was walking towards her, and in a few seconds she would be under his spell again. Summoning all her willpower, she tore her eyes away from him and took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind. Some of the energy seeped back into her limbs, and she started backing away.

“Help!” The scream caught in her throat and turned into more of a loud gasp, but it seemed to bring her fully to her senses. She took a deep breath.

“HELLLLLLP... ANYONE.... HELLLLP....” This time it was a high-volume shriek, and Johnson turned pale with anger.

“You bitch.” He was on top of her before she could turn and run, and he threw her face-down on the floor and twisted her arm painfully behind her back. With her face pressed into the carpet she could neither struggle effectively nor scream, and she let herself go limp. Her FBI training had prepared her for such situations, and she knew it was a bad idea to resist when her captor had the upper hand. She looked over at Mulder, but he was just staring at them with dull curiosity on his face. Johnson stood up.

“Don’t move, and don’t make a sound.” His voice was trembling with emotion, and Dana was suddenly worried that he was cracking up. She heard the sound of a drawer opening, and he came back carrying a cardboard box.

“Roll over.” He reached into the box and took out a pair of black wrist cuffs with Velcro closures, connected by a short chain. He put them on her wrists with her hands in front of her, snugging each one tight before closing the Velcro, and then he pulled her to her feet and led her to the center of the room. Taking a length of thick rope from the box, he doubled it into a loop and managed to catch it over a sturdy hook that was bolted into the wooden beam over her head. He tied one end of the rope to the chain connecting the wrist cuffs, and then he drew it tight, lifting her arms up over her head. When she was just able to stand flat-footed, he tied off the rope and stepped back, breathing heavily.

“There, that’s better. Now we just need to shut that loud mouth of yours.” He disappeared behind her and took something else from the box, and then he reached around her head and forced a rubber ball into her mouth. She grunted and tried to push it out with her tongue, but it was connected to a strap which he tightened across the back of her head. Johnson stepped back and smiled at her. He seemed to have calmed considerably now that the situation was back under his control.

“All right, Ms. Scully, I think that will keep you out of trouble for a while.”

Dana closed her eyes in despair. She had never felt so helpless in her life.

Trudi cruised slowly along the forest-lined road, squinting at the houses as they passed by trying to find a street number. She had been driving around the western side of Hallville for an hour, and she wasn’t even sure if this was the right road. Most of the houses were set too far back to read the numbers, and most of the mailboxes at the end of the driveways just had names.

When she had gotten home after sneaking out of school, she had found the name Alan Johnson in the phone book, somewhat to her surprise. His title—Deputy Chief of Police—had even been listed along with his address: 1277 Anderson Rd. Anderson road was shown clearly on the map of Hallville, which was now in her lap, but street signs in this neck of the woods were few and far between and she kept getting lost.

The road she was on dead-ended into an intersection that looked depressingly familiar—she must have crossed through it at least once before. No street sign, of course. After looking both ways she got a vague impression that she had come from the right last time, so she turned left. She was getting so discouraged by this point that when the green mailbox with 1277 neatly stenciled on the side appeared she almost drove right by it. She stopped the Camaro and reversed back to the mailbox. There was no name, and she wasn’t at all sure that this was Anderson road; in fact, she didn’t even see a house, just a narrow gravel road. She turned in and drove very slowly along the gravel. Just out of sight of the road there was a police car parked along the side. She pulled in behind it and took a deep breath; her heart was pounding so loud she could feel her chest vibrating.

“What the hell am I doing here?” she said out loud. She reached into her purse and pulled out the .32 caliber pistol she had taken from her mother’s nightstand. The gun was cool and heavy in her hand, and she felt some of her confidence return. She put it back in her purse and got out of the car.

Stepping quietly along the side of the narrow road, she soon came to an A-frame house surrounded by large pine trees. Crouching behind a tree trunk, she watched and listened carefully for a few minutes, but there was no sign that anyone was there. She decided to sneak up to the windows on either side of the front door and peek inside. When she was halfway across the clearing in front of the house, she froze. Had she heard someone scream?

“Helllppp.... Anyone....Hellppppp!”

Trudi gasped. It sounded like Agent Scully. She ran the rest of the way to the house and huddled low against the cedar shingles next to the door, the gun in her hand, and listened intently. After what seemed like several minutes there was no more screaming, so she crept along the side of the house to the window and peered in. Once her eyes had adjusted to the dark, she could make out an entryway that led into a large living room, from which she could occasionally glimpse a hint of movement. The blinds on the living room windows were drawn, and the room was quite dim.

From this angle she couldn’t see what was happening, despite her best efforts, and she finally dropped back low to the ground to think about it. She decided to go around to the back to see if she could get a better view of what was happening, or maybe even find an open window. On a whim, she tried the knob on the front door first. To her shock, it was unlocked. She took a few seconds to gather her courage, and then she slowly pushed it open.

Sunlight streamed into the dim entry area, and she was immediately afraid it would alert the people in the next room. She quickly slipped inside and shut the door behind her, and then she pressed herself against the wall next to the doorway leading to the living room, gun at the ready. Nothing happened for a few long moments, and then she heard a voice.

“Go ahead, cut it right off her.”

With a chill, she recognized the voice of the man from the convenience store. It didn’t sound as if he had noticed her presence, however, and she relaxed a bit. Then she started to wonder what on earth was going on in there. She peeked around the corner into the living room, and stifled a gasp. Agent Scully had her arms tied up over her head, and she was naked from the waist down. Agent Mulder was completely naked, and he was standing in front of her holding a pair of scissors. Johnson was sitting in a chair with his back to her. She immediately realized that Mulder must be under Johnson’s control. But why was Agent Scully tied up like that? They were only about 20 feet away from her, but none of them were facing in her direction, so she moved a little closer to the doorway to get a better view.

Mulder started cutting Scully’s blouse away with the scissors, working from the center placket out along one sleeve. When he reached the cuff the blouse fell away on that side, revealing her bra. He repeated the cut on the other sleeve, and the sliced-up blouse fell to the floor. Trudi breathed a little easier; she had been worried that Agent Mulder was going to hurt Agent Scully with the scissors, but obviously it was just to cut her clothes off; it was the only way to get a shirt off someone who’s hands were bound.

Now Dana was wearing only a lacy beige bra which revealed the deep curves of her cleavage. Trudi could see her eyes widen as Mulder slid the scissors between her breasts and snipped the fabric separating the two cups. The bra fell open and Dana’s smooth white breasts were revealed. As Mulder cut the straps away, causing the bra to fall to the floor, Trudi studied Agent Scully’s naked torso with interest. Her breasts were about the same size as her own, but they had a softer, more womanly shape, sitting a little lower on her chest and sloping outwards away from her body. The nipples were different too; whereas Trudi had small brown nipples, Scully had larger pink nipples with an interesting cone shape.

“That’s more like it—thank you, Agent Mulder,” said Johnson. “I’m afraid your partner has decided not to cooperate, so we are going to have to stimulate her until she changes her mind. Lets start with her breasts, shall we?”

Mulder had turned to look at Johnson, and now Trudi could see the same slack, glassy-eyed expression on his face that Vince had developed when Johnson had controlled them that night at the Road Pantry. She also noticed that Agent Mulder had a large erection, and she realized with a guilty start that she was looking forward to watching what was going to happen instead of thinking about how to rescue the agents. But how was she going to intervene? She doubted that Johnson would just quietly cooperate if she pointed the gun at him, and the idea of actually firing it terrified her. Maybe an opportunity would present itself later.

Mulder turned back to Scully, and following Johnson’s instructions he began squeezing and kneading her breasts. She tried to pull away, but it was impossible; as soon as she moved in any direction the strain on her arms increased greatly. She tried to gaze into Mulder’s eyes instead, to see if she could somehow snap him out of the trance, but he was staring fixedly at her breasts. “Men,” she thought to herself with disgust. Fox was pinching her nipples now, not quite hard enough to hurt, and she could feel her body starting to respond. Unable to move or talk, there was little for her to do other than focus on the sensations coming from her nipples, and the feeling of delicious lethargy spread through her body like some sort of sexual anesthesia. Soon her pussy was wet and she was making little sounds of desire deep in her throat.

“I think she’s coming around now,” said Johnson. “She must have realized that all we want to do is give her pleasure, right Mulder?” No answer was expected. “Why don’t you finger her pussy and see if she’s ready to come.”

Trudi watched in fascination as Mulder slid his hand between Dana’s thighs. Her nipples were swollen from all the pinching, and their dark pink color made them stand out sharply against her white skin. Trudi couldn’t help but notice that Agent Scully opened her legs slightly to allow Agent Mulder’s hand to slip between them, whereas she could easily have clamped them together. When Dana threw her head back and moaned loudly through the ball gag in her mouth, Trudi felt her own pussy start to tingle. As Mulder mechanically fingered his partner to a shuddering climax, Trudi became more and more aroused. Instead of feeling sorry for Agent Scully in her naked and helpless state, she started envying her, and she unconsciously reached under her denim skirt and started rubbing herself through her panties.

Suddenly Johnson turned around and looked right at her. Trudi ducked back behind the doorway and tried to quiet her breathing, but somehow she didn’t feel the appropriate amount of panic. In the back of her mind she realized that she had fallen at least partially under Johnson’s spell.

“Well, well. I think we have a visitor. Miss Bowman, would you like to come out and join in the fun?” Johnson’s voice didn’t betray any surprise or dismay over this unexpected development.

Trudi was frozen with indecision. She knew that she should take action, even if just to run away, but she couldn’t seem to move.

“Come over here right now, Trudi.” Her free will was ebbing away; she couldn’t resist that voice any longer. She managed to clear her head slightly for just a moment, and she noticed the gun still in her hand. She shoved it into her purse as she stood up, and then she slowly walked around the corner into the living room.

“I’m really glad you dropped by,” said Johnson, sounding like he meant it. “I hate to leave loose ends floating around.” He was slouched back in the armchair and he looked relaxed and confident. Trudi fought to give the impression she wasn’t under his control.

“Why is that, you perverted creep?” she asked with a bit of bravado.

Johnson pretended to be hurt. “You have me all wrong. I allow people to experience more pleasure in an hour than they would normally experience in a year, and then I clear their memories so they don’t suffer any lingering guilt feelings. I’m doing them a service.”

“I don’t think all those girls who got pregnant felt like they had been done a service.” Trudi tried to summon as much anger as she could, it seemed to help her concentrate.

“No, I suppose not. I’m actually quite sorry about that.” He looked sincere, and as ridiculous as the comment was, Trudi felt her anger melt away to be replaced by lust. Agent Mulder was standing next to her with a raging hard-on, and it was getting difficult to keep her eyes off it.

“You have such a beautiful body, Trudi. Why don’t you take your clothes off and let us see it.”

Trudi tried to think of a way to refuse, and then she noticed that her hands were already unzipping her skirt as if by their own accord. Her body was aching with desire now, and she realized she was past the point of no return. She peeled off her knit top and removed her bra and panties, leaving everything in a pile on a floor, including her purse.

“So, what will it be?” asked Johnson. “So many options, and so little time. Maybe you would like to suck Mulder’s cock?” Trudi looked at it hungrily. “Or maybe you would like to help out poor Dana.”

Trudi glanced at Johnson in surprise, and then looked at Agent Scully. Surely he didn’t mean for her to do stuff with another woman? Dana was looking at her, but it was impossible to read her expression with the gag in her mouth. She dropped her eyes to the bound woman’s breasts, and realized that she wasn’t as upset at the notion as she had first thought. In fact...

“Why don’t you go over to her and see if you feel like touching her.” Johnson’s voice was softer and less commanding now. Trudi walked over to Dana and looked at her with indecision. Scully returned the gaze, looking searchingly into Trudi’s eyes, and Trudi realized that the agent wasn’t under Johnson’s control; that must be why she was tied up. But Trudi didn’t care at this point. She reached out with one hand and gently touched Dana’s breast, cupping it in her palm and enjoying its soft warmth.

“That’s it, Trudi—now play with her nipples. That’s what she wants, trust me.”

Trudi used both hands to gently pinch and roll Dana’s nipples, causing her to begin moaning behind the gag. Trudi was enjoying this new experience, and she had a sudden urge to use her mouth instead of her hands. Leaning forward, she licked one of Scully’s puffy pink nipples, and then she sucked it into her mouth. There was something comforting and satisfying about sucking on a breast, something related to basic human urges that went deeper than just sex, and Trudi soon found herself eagerly suckling Dana’s breasts, stimulating the nipples with her tongue and teeth.

She was vaguely aware of Fox’s hands on her ass, lifting her upwards so that her legs straightened out and she was bent over at the waist, and then she gasped in surprise as she felt his warm tongue probing between her thighs, seeking her sex. She arched her back and spread her legs a little, giving him easier access, and was rewarded with the incredible sensation of a tongue pushing into her tight pussy. She ground her hips against Mulder’s face, fucking his stiff tongue as she continued to suck and bite Dana’s breasts, and she soon felt an orgasm flood through her body.

“All right, Trudi, now that you have gotten Agent Scully all worked up you need to finish the job. It’s not fair to just leave her hanging.”

Trudi had stopped playing with Dana’s breasts while she came, and now Dana was moaning and arching her back like a cat in heat. Trudi knew that Scully wanted her put her hand between her legs like Mulder had done a few minutes ago, but that seemed so weird. Still, Johnson was right, she couldn’t just leave her in this state. Tentatively, she slid her hand down Scully’s stomach until she reached her wispy pubic hair, and Scully moaned and pushed her hips forward. Trudi sucked in her breath as she felt Dana’s warm, moist pussy in her hand. It was an odd sensation to be caressing another woman’s sex, strange and familiar at the same time, and Trudi was fascinated. She parted the pussy lips with her fingers and started rubbing gently, and Scully moved her hips back and forth, encouraging her.

Mulder was behind her again, lifting her ass up and separating her legs, and then she felt his cock probing at her. She pushed back against him, and with a delicious sliding sensation she impaled herself on his stiff erection. As Mulder began fucking her, Trudi turned her attention back to Scully. Her hand and fingers had become slippery with Dana’s juices, and she boldly inserted a finger into the opening, causing Dana to jerk and clench down around the digit. Trudi pushed the finger in and out, watching Dana’s face behind the gag as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. When Dana reached her climax, Trudi could feel the sudden urgent vibrations in her finger, and the sensation pushed her over the edge into another orgasm of her own.

As the wave of pleasure receded, Trudi felt her head clear as if she was waking up from a light sleep, and the full import of what was happening hit her. Mulder was still banging into her from behind like a machine, but she was no longer under Johnson’s sexual trance. Could Johnson tell that she had regained control of her thoughts? She glanced over at him, and was surprised to see that his eyes were closed. As she watched him, his eyes opened and he looked at her with a dreamy expression, giving her a nasty shock. Instinctively, she pretended to be absorbed in fucking Mulder, contorting her face into what she felt was an appropriate expression of lust, and Johnson closed his eyes again.

The adrenaline surge had completely wiped away any lingering sexual feelings, and now Trudi was close to panic. She knew that Johnson might notice that she wasn’t in a trance at any moment, so this might be her last chance to act. Her purse was on the floor just a few feet away, under her clothes. She took a deep breath, glanced at Johnson one more time to make sure his eyes were still closed, and then she broke away from Mulder and dropped to her knees next to her clothes. She scrabbled around for her purse, sure that she would feel a powerful hand on her shoulder at any second. Finally, she felt the cool metal of the pistol under hand, and she yanked it out and pointed it at Johnson.

“Don’t move!” she said, her voice cracking.

Johnson was sitting up in the chair, his eyes wide with surprise.

“And don’t try any more of that hypnosis shit,” added Trudi. “If I feel you start to mess with my head, I’ll shoot you.”

Johnson glared at her angrily, but her mind remained clear, and they stayed like that for a few long seconds. Then Johnson stood up.

“You won’t shoot me,” he said coolly.

“Come any closer and you’ll find out how wrong you are, you bastard.” Trudi said this with more confidence than she felt. She would pull the trigger all right, but she wasn’t sure anything would happen. Her mother might not keep the gun loaded, and wasn’t there something called a safety? But Johnson didn’t know this.

“All right, Trudi, I’ll keep my distance,” said Johnson, and he began edging his way around her. “I was just about finished with you anyway.” This wasn’t quite true—he hadn’t been able to apply the amnesia, and if he left now Trudi and Agent Scully would remember everything. But he was planning to disappear anyway.

Trudi kept the gun trained on Johnson as he made his way past her.

“Where the hell to you think you’re going?”

“My suitcase,” said Johnson, picking up the battered leather case. “All my traveling essentials are in here. Now, I am going to walk into the kitchen, out the back door, and out of your life forever. You don’t want to kill me, Trudi. If you shoot me in the back it will be murder, plain and simple.” He looked Trudi in the eye, trying to assess the success of his bluff. He decided that she might very well shoot if he tried to control her mind again, and he turned and deliberately walked into the kitchen.

Trudi was torn with indecision. She didn’t want Johnson to get away, but if she pulled the trigger and nothing happened, her advantage would be gone and she would be at his mercy again. And she didn’t want to kill him, he was right about that much. Then Johnson had disappeared, and she heard the back door close. With a sigh, she lowered the gun.

Suddenly, she realized that Agent Scully was grunting and stamping her foot, trying to get her attention. Trudi jumped to her feet and ran over to her, feeling foolish. Of course Dana would know what to do, she should have tried to free her while Johnson was still here. She set the gun down and unbuckled the leather strap on the gag, and Scully spit the rubber ball out of her mouth with distaste.

“The scissors—cut the rope with the scissors,” she said urgently.

Trudi looked around and saw the scissors Mulder had used to cut away Dana’s clothes on the floor near their feet. She grabbed them, and began sawing away at the rope leading from the wrist cuffs up to the ceiling. Outside, they heard the sound of an engine roaring to life, and then the blue pickup truck appeared in the front window, heading up the gravel driveway towards the main road.

Finally, the rope parted and Scully was able to lower her arms. Using her teeth, she pulled open the Velcro cuff on her right wrist, freeing her hands.

“Where’s the phone?” she asked Trudi. “There’s still time to catch him.”

“I don’t know, in the kitchen maybe?” Trudi ran into the kitchen saw a phone on the wall. She picked it up, but there was no dial tone. “It’s dead.”

“He must have cut the phone line before he left,” said Scully. “That’s why he didn’t drive away immediately. Help me look for my cell phone.”

After a few minutes of searching, Scully dropped into a chair with a sigh. “He must have taken our phones and guns with him.” She looked at Trudi and realized that they were both still naked. So was Mulder, for that matter—he was sitting on the floor holding his head in his hands. “I guess it’s safe to get dressed now.”

Trudi put her clothes back on, and then looked at Scully. Dana had put her skirt back on, and she was holding her cut-up blouse and shaking her head sadly. “Silk,” she said. “Mulder is going to have to pay for it.”

“Can’t you fill out an expense report for it or something?” asked Trudi. Dana thought about the strict Bureau regulations regarding loss of personal property, and the corner of her mouth twitched. “This is going to be difficult to explain on a report, " she said with a smile.

Trudi saw the humor in the situation as well, and began to giggle, and soon they were both laughing, letting the tension of the last few hours drain away.

“What’s so funny?” asked Mulder, looking up at them from the floor in confusion.

“Jesus Christ, why am I naked?”