Title: Musings of a Size Queen Ice Queen
Author: XochiLuvr
E-mail: xochiluvr@surfacing.com
Feedback: I'm not sure if this is badfic, or just a nasty parody.
Let me know what you think.
Thanks to M. E. Cieplinski for beta, though she may deny seeing this piece.
Cat: VH, MSR (Well, not really... there's less romance here than in an
episode of The Jeffersons.)
Spoilers: various through Requiem, Psycho the Movie
Rating: I'm calling it NC-17, but it's really NC-35. I wrote this, but I'm
too young to read it.
Summary: He wasn't my first, not by a mile, but he had something I've never
before experienced. He was so well-endowed he'd scare Madonna celibate.

-----

I know people call me the "Ice Queen," but I'm really not.

It's not that I'm cold.

I'm just, well, finicky. Even Mulder knows that, just as he knows
I'll never leave him. He certainly made sure of that, now, didn't he?

Like I said, I'm picky.

I'm particular about the clothes I wear, the sharpness of my high heels, the
food I eat...

The men I fuck.

I guess it all goes back to Daniel. He wasn't my first, not by a mile, but
he had something I've never before experienced. He was so well-endowed he'd
scare Madonna celibate.

Sex with Daniel was something so life-altering that since then, I've usually
chosen to do without rather than suffer from something akin to "penis envy."
In the decade since I finally decided to leave him (a better case of nature
versus nurture I've never seen), I've struggled to find another man to rival
his "stature." There've been a few applicants, but the job was mostly empty
for a number of years.

Just remember, nobody with my score on a shooting range has _ever_ been
accused of being easy. Just ask Donnie.

After Daniel came Jack. Jack was a wonder in bed, but his problem was that
he had to have a controlled environment. Like I said, a wonder in the sack,
but if you snuck up on him after class, nothing short of a shop-vac could
get him up. His best, and nearly only, performances came between his
"special" flannel sheets, and required Pachabel's Canon playing on repeat.
In retrospect, I'm not sure what was worse: a total lack of Van Halen, or
the fact that the sheets were a present from his mother.

After I left Norman, I mean Jack, I went through a lot of batteries. A lot,
a lot, a lot, as Mulder might say if he were here right now. Eventually I
got tired of modern appliances and put a hit out on Tom Colton. I'd heard
the rumors from the secretarial pool, and needed to find out for myself. The
group sessions were a little awkward at first, considering my Catholic
roots, but thankfully one of the participants was a nice Irish priest, so I
always went to be "confessed" before retiring for the night. I finally had
to quit though, because I just couldn't handle all the initiation rites.
There are only so many appropriate orifices, you know. I guess Tom didn't. I
finally told him to stick it in his _own_ damn ear, and that was the end of
that.

Krycek wasn't bad as far as girth, but the poor boy was like a bottle
rocket. Light his fuse, and you could practically count down the launch
sequence with a stopwatch. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1... find the
vibrator, it's gonna be a lonely night. When I finally told him that, he got
a bit pissed. Every once in a while I wonder if Melissa was retribution, but
then I remember that I'm fairly certain it was his accomplice who shot her.
I know for a fact he didn't have the balls to do it himself (well, one is
better than nothing, I suppose), and his aim has _never_ been that good,
even with both hands.

Then came Ed. Ed was proof, like me, that the smaller you appear to be, the
bigger the punch you pack. The pain to pleasure ratio was a bit high for my
usual liking, but the erotic combination took me to levels that nearly made
me forget even Daniel's prowess. The tattoo thing was a bit weird, I'll
admit, but I'd gotten my ya-yas out with stranger people in Med School, and
at least he was pretty honest about his intentions. I was kinda sad to see
him go, but I'm sure he's made lots of friends in his new home.

It took a lot of "doing" on my part, but Skinner and I did get together
after a while. A grand time was had by all, let me assure you. That
ex-Marine knows tricks most people in this country have never even heard of,
he's got the stamina of a god, and while I'll never tell anyone, I know the
real reason he's called The Skinman. The bondage gear was a little difficult
to get used to, but the slick feel of leather against skin is so sensuous,
and a little spanking never hurt anyone, right? Lord knows, Mulder could've
used a couple of good whipping sessions for the shit he's dropped on me over
the years. Walter and I parted amicably, I guess, but his final gift was one
I could have done without. I have to take a pill five times a day to keep
the blisters from coming back. I guess I should've listened to the old
saying, "Bald men tell no tales."

Finally - eventually, I guess - came Mulder. The sex was nothing
spectacular, if you must know, but he was above average, and let's face it,
I do love him. He may not have flown me to the moon like so many others in
the past, but I did get to orbit now and then, and he did knock me up, after
all. At least I was pretty sure he did. Ol' Smokey promised he'd used a
condom, so who else could have done it?

Turned out I was right in the end. It was in fact Mulder's, and even CGB
had no clue how I regained my fertility. Now that he's back, Mulder still
won't tell me what happened to bring all this about, but I couldn't be
happier over the newest members of the family. First the baby, then, well...
Mulder brought his own new addition. And _now_....

After he was returned, he came straight to my apartment and knocked on the
door. Hard. He woke the baby with all the noise. I didn't have a clue who
was pounding on the door, and I certainly had no idea I was next on the list
of things to pound. It was the old Mulder, all right. Just more than ever
before. As soon as I opened the door I was picked up, thrown over his
shoulder, and before I could even scream for him to stop, I was flailing in
orgasm. I don't know what "they" did to him, but the next time we play ball,
we won't need to bring a bat. He was still at it an hour and a tube of K-Y
later. I finally passed out, grateful for some peace. I don't know a thing
about horses, but I knew I'd been ridden hard and put away wet. If I'd been
a real horse, they'd have shot me for being lame; I had to take a week's
sick leave. I thought he'd punctured one of my lungs.

That little prick did it again. Well, I guess I'll never be able to call him
that anymore, will I? The last ultrasound showed seven little Mulders
waiting to be freed. They all have abnormally large heads and three fingers
per hand, though. I need to check up on that.


End.