Title: No Name
Date: Tue, 24 Mar 1998
Author - Steven M. Wagner
E-Mail address - wagnersm@mindspring.com
Rating - NR
Category - SA
Keywords - Alternate Universe
Spoiler - None
Summary - Mulder buys Scully to save her.

Disclaimer - This is a fiction story based on the characters
created by Chris Carter. No infringement of copyrights held by
10/13 Productions, Twentieth Century Productions, or Fox
Broadcasting is intended. All unrecognized characters and plot-
lines belong to me. Names, characters, and places exist solely
within my imagination, or are used fictitiously. No connection
to any person, living or dead, is intended, and any resemblance
is entirely coincidental. Feel free to distribute, but please
keep me as the author.
----------------------------------------------------------------

No Name
by
Steve Wagner

"The defendant will now stand," the judge ordered. Mulder
watched his partner rise beside her lawyer. The trial had been a
sham. The two had came too close to some information the
Consortium had not wanted out. And to stop them they framed
Scully with a murder. And now, the sentencing was to occur.

"Death by slavery," the judge read off. Mulder was up standing
in a flash. Scully wavered for a second and turned to her mother
for comfort. Everybody knew what 'Death by slavery' meant.
Since it was an old legal adage that your body was the state's
after execution, the state now defined that it stripping a person
of their name and declaring them 'dead' was the same as killing
them, and if you were young, pretty, and female, you could be
sold at a nice profit.

"Mulder, take care of Mom," Scully whispered, as she pressed
something into Mulder's hand. Then straightened up and let the
bailiffs cuff her and lead her off. Mulder looked down into his
hand, it was her cross.

-*-*-*-

Six months later.
-----------------

Mulder stood in the back of the auditorium. It was warm, humid,
with a large crowd. It made Mulder think of some sporting event
rather than a auction. The advertisement in the morning paper
said that there was a good group of pretty females to be sold
today. And today, 'a petite redhead with prior medical training,
very trainable,' was due to be sold to the highest bidder. Dana
Scully, in other words.

The past several months had been hell on Mulder. Mrs. Scully had
done well enough, moving in with one of her sons 'to help out',
or so she said. Mulder wasn't so sure. She had lost both of her
daughters, she was a widow. As the months passed, she returned
fewer and fewer of his phone calls.

The Consortium had kept the pressure up on Mulder, sending him a
video tape of the 'execution'. The prison warden read the death
order. Then a couple of the guards had grabbed her and stripped
the clothes she had worn to sentencing from her. Then she was
pushed up against a post, tied to it, collared then branded on
the hip. He saw her scream. He still saw the scene, heard the
echoes of her scream in his nightmares.

Everybody knew where the 'exotics' were being trained, Alcatraz
Prison. Mulder and Frohike had wanted to try for a rescue
mission, but Byers had reminded them of the low chance of
success. Mulder had suggested an execution, at least end the
horror for her. No, they suggested, we don't want to mourn two
friends. So time had been spent getting together enough to
ensure that they could buy her and rescue her.

And now it was time, "Lot number 42, one redhead female with
prior medical training." Scully was pushed forward into the
bright lights on the stage, eyes wide and scared, then quickly
dropping so she didn't look a future master in the eye. She was
a faun caught in a car's headlights on a dark night. So
terrified that she froze, but still wanting to run to safety.
The auctioneer pushed her head up, the handle of his whip to her
chin, the better the buyers to see her face.

Mulder could hardly believe what he saw. They had taken time to
make sure that she would bring in the most money. Hair and
makeup was done. She was attractively dressed wearing a loose
short sleeved blouse and a wrap skirt, one hip open enough to
show the slave brand. But her arms were tied behind her back
and her neck had a narrow gold band around it, a collar, not a
necklace.

The auctioneer started the bidding, "Ten thousand Dollars."
Mulder watched the crowd and the stage. There was some interest
in the redhead, but not enough that a bidding war was going on.
He hoped that it did not go to that, the Lone Gunman, Skinner,
and him had pooled their resources to pull this off, but their
funds were limited. And Scully, she stood up there, he could see
the fear in her body, the way she slightly quivered. Her fears
were obvious, who would she would be pleasuring that night. A
person who could beat her if she wasn't good enough.

At one point the bidding faltered for a moment, then the
auctioneer walked behind Scully. "How can you not bid on
something like this," and pushed her blouse off her shoulders and
down to her waist, baring her breasts for all to see. Mulder
could see the color rise on her face as her bosom rose and fell
as she panted her terror. Mulder stood there frozen, his eyes on
her breasts. And then the bidding slowed again, and her skirt
was removed. Her color rose again, as did his. It was a
pleasure seeing her petite body on display, a guilty pleasure.
She was his friend, his partner, not some bimbo to be ogled. But
he couldn't help looking at how her breasts gently quivered as
she turned from side to side at the auctioneer's bidding.
Watching for the glippses of the patch of hair hiding her sex.
He was ashamed of himself for watching.

Not soon enough, the bidding soon stopped. "Going once, going
twice, sold to the man with the fedora." Mulder sighed in
relief. The 'man with the fedora' was the agent Mulder had sent
in to buy Scully. He looked back to the stage for a second as
she was lead back through the curtains, her eyes searching for
the man that now owned her.

-*-*-*-

"Thank you, master." Mulder heard Scully's voice through a half
open door, a voice that once strong and commanding, now weak with
fear.

"Go through that door to your right," the agent told the scared
slave. Mulder heard the faint footsteps of bare feet stop as the
door pushed open and Scully walked through the door.

"What," was her cry, as she looked at the man who had been her
partner, her hands stopping the chafing of the wrists where the
handcuffs had been tight on her skin. "Mulder," she said.

Mulder took a second to look Scully over. She looked healthy.
And sexy. The makeup played up her eyes and cheekbones, lips
painted a bright read. Her hair was styled up, long dangling
earrings calling attention to her long neck and the collar around
it. Her clothing was straightened. Mulder could see close up
that it was clothing designed to bolster her sexuality. The
clothing was of a gauzy fabric that did not hide much of what was
behind it. She also looked very scared.

"Yes, Scully."

"Oh God," she wailed, on hand coming up to face, half covering
the mouth. "Why does it have to be you?"

Mulder was taken aback, this is not the response he had expected.
He had expected to be welcomed as a savior, not as if he was the
last person she wanted to see. "What is wrong, Scully?"

"I don't wish for you to see me in this situation. I am no
longer the woman who was your partner. I am now a trained slave
here to do the bidding of the master. And please don't call me
that name anymore. Dana Katherine Scully is dead." Her eyes
fell down to the floor. "If it pleases the master, the slave
grew used to be called 'Red' while in training."

Mulder started, this was not the woman he had worked with. "Ok,
Red. And please call me Mulder," he replied. He would call her
what she wanted. It was a easy kindness while determining the
next step.

He was rewarded with one of her brilliant smiles. But it was
briefly on her face before it saddened. "Mast . . , Mulder,
seeing you, reminds me of what life was before enslavement,
before training. And it horrifies having you see me this way.
Before I was a FBI agent, a Medical Doctor. Now, I am nothing
but a trained sex slave."

"What did they do to you," a soft question.

"It was six months of brainwashing."

"What . . .?"

"You know what brainwashing is. From the time they got me to
Alcatraz and they branded me, to the auction, they did every
thing they could to make sure that I knew where I was, and what I
was going to be. Several of the girls were selected each night
to entertain the guards. We were taught how to please a man
sexually. We were taught how to be good little playthings."

Mulder reached out to touch her, to comfort her. Her face
brightened at the touch, her tongue coming out to lick her lips
in anticipation. But the joy faded when she realized that she
was not going to be used. "This shows it," a bit of bitterness
in her voice. "Slaves are taught how to please the masters, and
to get their fulfillment from that. And now, I don't have that."

"Scul," only the first syllable came out.

"You don't get it, do you Mulder," a sharpness replaced the
timidy in the voice, a bit of the Dana Scully he knew coming
through the training. "I am not your partner. She is gone. The
body is the same, but the mind is different. I have been trained
to welcome a man's advances. To pleasure him with my body any
and every way I can. That's all I am. That's all I can every
be." Her eyes widened in terror. She had just berated a master.
She had seen girls tortured to death for doing just that in
training. "Oh, Master, please be gentle to your slave," she
begged, dropping to the floor and grasping his knees in
supplication.

Mulder reached down and gently took the woman's hands in his own.
then knelt down in front of her. He saw the terror still in her
eyes, the marks her tears had made in her makeup. "I'm not going
to hurt you, Red. You are safe with me. Let's sit down." He
rose, gently pulling her to her feet, before leading her to a
couple of chairs. "I just want to help you, to keep you safe.
I'm not going to punish you for anything."

Red looked at her ex-partner, gratitude in her eyes. "The slave
is sorry for berating the master. But there has just been 6
months of rigorous brainwashing and training." She went on to
describe the training center. It was not a bad place in and of
itself. They were well fed, exercised, their health was
maintained. But it was what else that happened to them that was
so terrifying. The girls were systematicily raped the first week
they were there, 'it was to get them used to being sextoys.'
They were not allowed much in the way of clothes, clothing became
an prop in the pleasing of a man. They were taught oral sex,
anal sex, how to please a man while he is inside of the girl.
How to set off their own orgasm on demand. How to please a woman
if they were bought by a woman, or the master had two slaves and
wanted a show. And taught other ways to be entertaining, some
sang, Scully was taught belly dancing, "They couldn't teach
fucking all the time."

And they were tortured as well. The first week, each of them
were tied to the post where they were branded and beaten with a
whip. They were not injured, but it was to show them what
punishment would be like. One of the girls tried to escape, they
hung her. But it was not a long drop, her neck was not broken.
They left her hands untied, and there was enough rope for her to
hang onto it. She held on for three days. Her eyes went up to
her master's, "We could see her those three days. They hung her
at the edge of our exercise area. Each of us knew that it could
be any of us dangling on that rope, feeling the manila bite into
our throats. She hung on as best she could, but she weakened. A
couple of the girls went to her. The guards would not let us
release her, nor pass her food and water. I knew what the next
day would be like, as she weakened further, she would be able to
hold on less and less until she choked. I knew what was needed
to do. I called out to her, asked if she wanted us to end the
pain. Her eyes met mine. She knew what I was offered, the final
relief, a coup de grace. She nodded. Me and a couple of the
other girls jumped up and held onto her legs. She stopped
struggling after a few minutes."

But there was one final horror. "About halfway through the six
months, several of the girls came back from a lecture complaining
of feeling dizzy. The next morning, they didn't know they were.
Within a week, they mindwiped everybody except me. I didn't say
anything to anybody, I was hoping that they had overlooked me.
But I found out that I was wrong. I was taken to a room with a
bed and chair. Slaves were not allowed to sit on chairs so I sat
on the edge of the bed. The cigarette smoking one, came to the
room. He explained that they were being cruel. If they had
wiped my mind as well, I would not remember my prior life. it
wouldn't haunt me every time a master used me. And even if you
found me, I would not be able to help you in your quest anymore.
Then he told me to please him." Her eyes dropped to her lap. "I
did everything I could to please him. I couldn't help myself.
When he was done, he told me that I was very good, and I felt
pleasure. He told me that he wished that he could keep me for
himself, but that would be too dangerous. That one final wish
was for me to be bought by some old rich man who wanted something
to warm his bed as well as a nurse. He then left me. I was sold
2 days latter."

Mulder sat there for a moment stunned. Before now, he had not
been able to find out much about the slave training, except for a
few vague terrifying rumors. Rumors less horrible then the
facts. "I don't know what to do," he whispered, stunned.

"Neither does your slave," she softly answered.
-----------------------------------
Steve Wagner - The Unnumbered naXis
wagnersm@mindspring.com
Cary, North Carolina, USA

"WHY NOT seize the pleasure at once,
How often is happiness destroyed by preparation, foolish preparation!"
Jane Austin, (1775-1817) English novelist