X-Files: The Psychic Informer

Disclaimer: This is a fictional story for adult entertainment purposes.

Now, to the story...

Dana Scully stepped from the elevator into the basement of the J. Edgar Hoover Building. Heels clicking with each step, the FBI agent headed for the office she shared with her partner, Fox Mulder. Opening the door, the beautiful redhead nearly collided with the other agent leaving the X-Files bureau.

'Whoa, Mulder,' she said, taking a step back. 'Nice tie,' she flippantly added, flicking the offending item of clothing. Mulder had appalling taste in neckties. His rebellious streak; wearing something so horrendous to offset the ideal of an FBI agent in a suit, she thought. Today Fox had chosen to wear a rust-red tie featuring a repeating pattern of large square golden rings, each featuring a blue jewel motif.

'Sorry, Scully,' Mulder replied, taking a step back himself, allowing the shorter woman to enter their shared space. Distracted as he was, the man couldn't help but notice Dana was wearing a grey suit, the skirt knee-length, and a blouse of a lighter grey material. From above, the fluorescent lights made her auburn hair shine, her fair skin glow. 'I've been asked to consult with a task force working a series of bank robberies,' he said.

'An X-Files bank robbery?' Scully scoffed playfully.

'If only,' Fox replied. 'No. They're a particularly nasty gang. The task force is having difficulty tracking them down and someone thought a psychological profile would help.'

'That's unusual for bank robberies, isn't it?' Scully asked, arms crossing under her generous chest, inadvertently causing a wonderful little jiggle.

'It's not unheard of. Skinner okayed it. Drawbacks to having an above average case clearance rate: I'm available,' Mulder explained. 'Gotta go, Scully. Bad guys to catch,' he quipped before stepping past and exiting the office.

'I guess I'll take care of the paperwork from the last case then,' an exasperated Scully called out from the office doorway.

'You're the best, Scully,' Mulder called back with a smile before ducking into the elevator.

'Paperwork it is then,' Scully said to herself.

***

Over the next few hours Dana sat at her desk, diligently working through a tidy pile of folders. As with any case undertaken by FBI agents, the X-Files generated a lot of bureaucracy, reports, statements, lab results etc. It wasn't Mulder's fault that he'd been called away, she reasoned, closing one folder and opening the next. He was after all a talented criminal profiler and he did take care of his share of the paperwork. Mostly, she thought. The unexpected ringing of the telephone interrupted her work.

'Scully,' she answered.

'Agent Scully, this is Assistant Director Skinner's office.' Dana recognised the voice of Arlene, the man's personal assistant. 'The AD would like to see you immediately.'

'I'll be right there,' Scully answered and hung up the phone. Thankful for a break from paperwork, she wondered what her superior wanted. A few minutes later the Special Agent entered the AD's outer office.

'Go right on in, Agent Scully,' Arlene said.

With a nod of thanks, Dana passed the secretary and entered Walter Skinner's office. Where she'd expected the man to be at his desk, he was instead standing at the head of the conference table dominating the office. Sat around it were a number of other men and women, some of whom she recognised as fellow FBI agents.

'Sir?' Scully asked, stepping up to the tall, broad-shouldered man.

'Agent Scully, I've got some bad news,' he said, light reflecting off his glasses. 'You know that Agent Mulder was temporarily assigned to consult with a task force investigating a string of bank robberies?'

'Yes sir,' she answered, a confused look on her otherwise pretty face.

'An hour ago, Mulder and Special Agent Ritter entered the National Capital Bank. They walked right into an on-going heist. Agent Ritter was severely wounded. He's in critical condition. Agent Mulder...Mulder was taken hostage.'

'My god,' Scully gasped, hand to her mouth.

'I'm afraid the situation is worse than that. This gang of robbers has a violent M.O. and have proven particularly slick. They were able to waltz right out of the bank and disappear before the DC Police could respond.' As Skinner spoke he threw a look of disgust at a uniformed man sitting at the conference table.

'So we have no idea where they've taken Mulder? Have any suspects been identified?' Scully asked.

'At the present time we don't know their identities or whereabouts. Nor have we received any communication from them. Possibly,' Skinner said.

'"Possibly", sir? What does that mean?' Scully asked, anger creeping into her voice. Mulder's life is in danger and Skinner's dithering?

'Yesterday the FBI received a tip-off concerning a planned heist of that same bank. At the time it was not considered credible, considering its source.' Picking up a sheet of paper from the table, he read, 'Ekon Williams, currently serving life in prison for various drug-related convictions. Suspected involvement in several bank robberies. The tip-off was discounted when a check revealed Williams to have been in solitary confinement for the past month.' Skinner dropped the piece of paper and turned to Scully. 'Williams claimed knowledge of the robbery via a psychic vision. Hence why it was ignored by the task force.'

Scully nodded in understanding. Scepticism of the X-Files was rife in the bureau. Any mention of strange phenomenon was routinely discarded out of hand. Originally assigned to the X-Files as a sceptic to debunk Mulder's work, the investigator had seen too much over the past few years to discard any lead without proper scientific investigation.

'Special Agent Whitlock, the task force leader, believes that Williams presents nothing more than an opportunely timed hoax,' Skinner said. 'However, I won't let any lead go with Mulder's life in the balance,' he continued, voice filled with determination.

'Given the circumstances of the tip-off, am I to presume that you want me to interrogate Williams, sir?' Scully asked resolved to do whatever she could to get Mulder back safe and well.

'Scully, you're to go out to the Federal Correctional Institution in Petersburg. Find out what he knows, psychic visions or not. The warden has already agreed to reinstate his privileges if he proves useful in the recovery of Mulder and the capture of the bank robbers.'

'Yes sir,' Dana said, taking a sheet of details from her superior.

***

Met by a po-faced prison guard named Lockwood, the federal investigator was escorted through the prison complex towards the medium-security areas. Throughout her career, Scully had entered penal facilities several times. Each was geographically laid out differently yet they all shared a common atmosphere, one of danger, pent-up tension and barely restrained violence. It was almost a physical thing.

Being in such an environment excited the young woman, aroused her. Knowing she was the only female present, surrounded by violent men who'd take any opportunity to ravage her, caused Dana's adrenaline to spike, endorphins rushing through her body.

Like many women, being trapped in prison had been a recurring fantasy for a long time. Walking between exercise yards she could feel the eyes of numerous inmates tracking her every movement. Under the grey suit she wore, Scully felt her nipples stiffen, thankful they were concealed by the jacket. Trying to ignore the low steady throbbing under the skirt, she concentrated on Lockwood and what the prison guard was saying.

'We've confirmed that Williams hasn't had any outside contact. No visitors or phone calls for over three months. And that was before being sent to solitary. He'd only been out of confinement for a day before he asked to call you FBI folks.'

'Any contact with his lawyer?' Scully asked. It was the obvious route for the convicted drug-dealer to get information without the prison guards knowing.

'None. And before you ask, no other inmate on that cell block has had much outside contact. Certainly nothing we don't monitor. If Williams is playing ball and really does know anything about a bank robbery it's old news,' Lockwood said.

'What else can you tell me about him?'

'First thing is this whole "psychic visions" stuff is bullshit. He's been locked up here for nearly seventeen years. Before the last couple days, there's been no mention of him having any special abilities. He's yanking your chain, I reckon.'

Scully's expression remained neutral. The guard's open disdain was a common reaction from her experience. 'Why was he in solitary?' she asked as the guard let them into a dull grey building.

'Attacking another inmate. He's got something of a reputation for it. We think he attacked Blevins, the guy celled next to him, but Blevins isn't talking. Williams would be back in solitary if it weren't for your call to talk with him. But his privileges were restricted. You're aware of his demands in agreeing to see you, Agent Scully?'

'Yes. I'm to interrogate him in his cell, just the two of us. No guards present,' she replied. It was a dangerous concession to make given the prisoner's history of violence. But if it gets me closer to saving Mulder, so be it, she thought. Scully tried to ignore the feelings of sexual arousal the sense of danger gave her.

'The Warden wasn't happy about it ma'am. Apparently someone pulled some strings to make it happen. I take it your missing agent is someone important?' Lockwood asked, plainly curious.

'We're all federal employees, Mr Lockwood. We're all important,' Scully scolded the escort. 'Besides, I'm a fully trained field agent. I can handle myself.' Lockwood replied with a sceptical glance.

A few minutes later, Dana Scully and the prison guard entered the cell block. Clanging as it closed shut, the sound of the gate drew instant attention. All down the block mirrors abruptly sprang from the barred cells, each prisoner curious as to who'd come onto their block. Spotting the arrival of a sexy hot piece of ass, a chorus of catcalls, yells and whistles erupted throughout the building. Hearing the primal sounds directed at her, Scully's pulse quickened, a fresh wave of goosebumps causing her flesh to tingle.

Taken aback by the outburst, the scientist's analytical brain knew she should be disgusted by the behaviour, sickened and upset by the crude things the prisoners were calling out, what they would do to her if only they could. However, another part of the female reacted very differently. Dana had a wild side, one which was growing with excitement and coarse arousal. Still hidden by the grey suit, her nipples began to ache, responding to the men's demands to suck them. At yells to feel her tits they suddenly felt swollen and heavy. Under her breast, the woman's heart was beating rapidly, adrenaline spiking, pulse flaring.

Moving along the row of cells, the yells became more obscene, their demands ever more blatant. The FBI agent felt the throbbing in her vagina intensify. It felt swollen, hot and moist. An insistent itch grew with each step, with every demand the inmates made for her to sit on their faces, to suck her pussy, to finger her, to shove their big cocks up her cunt and down her throat. She felt flushed, cheeks burning.

Keeping her eyes forward, the investigator tried not to let the caged animals see the affect they were having on her. Standing at the bared and locked doors of their cells, the convicts were staring as she and Lockwood passed, shouting and whistling. Like prey being stalked by a pack of predators, Scully could feel eyes roaming all over her body, their gazes burning hot against her chest, her ass, even her legs visible below the grey knee-length skirt.

How long has it been since these guys have been with a woman? Dana wondered. What if there was a riot right now, right this minute? Would they really do all those horrible nasty things they're shouting at me? Scully almost misstepped, a contraction suddenly wracking her pussy, breaking the erotic-sounding click clack of heels on hard concrete. Continuing down the block, her panties felt damp.

'Careful with this one,' Lockwood said as they approached one of the last few cells. 'This is Miggs. He's a flinger.'

'Flinger?' Scully asked.

'A gasser. An inmate who'll throw bodily fluids at others,' Lockwood replied. 'He's a right piece of shit.'

'Hey. Hey! I can smell your cunt!' prisoner Miggs taunted through the bars. Turning to look, the female visitor saw the manic look in his eyes. Miggs was a dishevelled Caucasian male with receding scraggly hair, stubble and bad teeth. Despite his appearance, Dana felt her pussy twitch at the crude words, at the image of being forced to submit to this degenerate's sexual demands.

Get a hold of yourself, Dana, she scolded herself mentally. You're here to help rescue Mulder, not daydream about your deviant fantasies.

'Shut it, Miggs,' Lockwood said one hand on his nightstick, the other indicating they should move on. 'That's Blevins,' the guard said as they passed before the second-to-last cell.

Glancing through the bars, charcoal drawings decorated the walls. Clearly they'd been done by a talented artist. A quiet looking black man, bearded and small of stature, sat on the single bunk, looking back at the red-headed woman. Inner doctor coming to the fore, she noted a black eye and scratches on the man's face. Injuries sustained from Williams' attack, she assumed. Making eye contact, Scully saw the sad expression he wore. For some reason, she couldn't help but feel the sadness was meant for her, rather than for himself. Ignoring the feeling, she and Lockwood passed on to the final cell of the row.

'Williams. This is the FBI agent come to speak with you,' Lockwood said, nightstick now in his hands.

Looking into the prison cell, Scully could easily understand why the guard had his weapon ready. Standing in the middle of the enclosing space, Ekon Williams was a huge African-American, a blockhouse of hard muscle straining a white t-shirt and blue pants. Clean-shaven and bald there was a malignant intelligence in his eyes as he looked upon the two visitors. The sensation of being sized up by a predator grew stronger for the woman.

'I ain't talking with you here, Lockwood,' Williams said with a sneer.

'What's wrong? My presence interfere with your "special powers" or something?' Lockwood sneered back. The prisoner didn't reply beyond crossing meaty arms over his wide chest and cocking an eyebrow.

'It's ok, Mr Lockwood. I'll speak with him under his conditions,' Scully said, trying to break the tension and get on with her mission.

'I'll be at the head of the cell block. Yell if you need help. I mean it, Agent Scully,' he said, eyeing the large inmate. At a nod from the woman, he gestured to the security station outside the block house. An electronic click sounded and Lockwood pulled the barred door open before reluctantly walking away.

'Step into my home, Agent Scully,' the big convict said, taking two long strides back to make room for the visitor.

Not wanting to appear intimidated she entered the prison cell, managing to not glance back at the departing Lockwood. Crossing the threshold and truly entering the inmate's looming presence, Dana felt another tingle of excitement race along her spine, down her limbs to fingers and toes. I feel like I've just entered the lion's den.

Looking down at the diminutive redhead, Williams smiled. 'Do you know how things operate within a correctional facility like this one here?' he asked.

'Enlighten me,' Scully replied, not really interested in any kind of prison philosophy.

'Things in here operate on a barter system, Agent Scully. If someone wants something, they need to barter for it. Whatever it is, there's always a price has to be paid. You understand?' The woman nodded. Before she could respond, he carried on. 'Now, you want to talk to me. That means you want something. And that means you need to barter for it.'

'Just to talk to you?' Scully asked, confused. Williams merely nodded, knowing the advantage was his. 'What do you want?' she asked with a sinking feeling. Mulder's life was in danger and the clock was ticking. The pressure on the female agent was mounting.

'Nothing too much, baby. I just want whatever panties you got on under that nice suit you're wearing,' Williams said with a leering grin.

'I can't possibly do that Mr Williams,' Scully said, shocked at his demand. 'It's wrong, immoral.' Saying nothing, the prisoner just looked down on her, waiting. The look on his impassive face declared nothing else would be accepted. Mulder. I have to do it for Mulder's sake, she tried to reason with herself. But deep down, Scully couldn't deny what she was about to do thrilled her tremendously. The danger she would be opening herself up to.

'What's it to be, baby? Panties or a wasted journey?' Williams said, voice resonating in his massive chest. 'I think my call to the FBI and the details I shared from my vision show I have something of interest to you feds.' The convict was clearly relishing the power he held over the hot little number in front of him.

Suffering a little embarrassment is a small enough price to pay if it helps Mulder, Dana reasoned, making up her mind. 'Could you at least...' she began to ask him to turn around.

'Not a chance. Come on now, get them panties down,' he smirked at the woman's impending capitulation.

Looking back through the open cell door, Scully checked they were alone. At the head of the cell block Lockwood was talking to another guard, both standing behind the locked gate. Neither was paying attention and the other cells remained locked. Turning back to the disgusting criminal, he had a self-satisfied grin fixed on his dark face.

Cheeks burning with shame and embarrassment, Scully slowly hiked her grey skirt up. Without looking she knew Williams' eyes were closely following its progress, drinking in the view as more of her shapely legs were uncovered. Tugging it higher revealed lace-topped white stockings. Of all days, why did I choose today to wear stockings, she thought. But without making a conscious decision she stood there momentarily, almost showing off her nylons to the convict.

'Nice, baby. Real nice,' Williams said, hungrily eyeing the sexy hose.

Skirt raised all the way revealed a pair of silk bikini panties, a pastel purple in colour. Moving down from the hips, they dipped sharply into Dana's crotch. Clinging tightly to the heated pussy within, an enticing feminine curve formed in the silk. Much to his delight, Williams spied a wet spot, dark against the pastel fabric.

Standing in a Federal Correctional Facility, FBI Special Agent Dana Scully pulled her damp panties down in front of a convicted felon. With the susurration of silk on nylon loud in the small room, the underwear slid down stockinged legs to the floor. Stepping out of the silk bundle, she bent down to scoop them up. Straightening, her skirt fell back into place.

Holding the moist silk out, she couldn't help but notice the elongated bulge of the black man's endowment. Bulging against the blue pants, it was impressive in its girth and length, running down his leg. Pussy twitching at the sight, she could barely keep her eyes off it. What would that feel like inside me? the woman wondered. Immediately a wash of shame rolled over her. I shouldn't be thinking such things. I really shouldn't, she chastised herself.

Taking the still warm panties, the convict raised them to his nose. Wide nostrils flaring, he inhaled deeply, eyes closing. Chest rumbling with a satisfied moan, his senses were suffused with the smell of Scully's moist twat. Eyes opening, they locked onto the beautiful visage of the white woman staring at his actions. Maliciously maintaining eye contact, he inhaled again, sniffing the worn panties in front of the very hot little redhead who'd scented them for him.