He didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until he had to breathe again. Standing in the midst of the fiery inferno, Dick's eyes were welded like an iron cattle-guard on a locomotive engine to the perfectly-rounded globes of Dana's porcelain breasts, which rode magnificently high on her chest, like a young girl's, her pert, taut nipples heaving as she surveyed him with her ice blue orbs. His own normally hazel-colored eyes changed colors about every two seconds as he stared at her; first to primary colors and then, second, to secondary colors, but also occasionally to colors in-between. Some made the mistake of calling his eye color "teal," but nothin' got Dick harder 'n meaner than someone calling his eyes that pansy-ass color. He'd killed many a man (and sheep) for far less.

NOTE: FWIW, Climax and Intercourse, Texas, *do* exist, and they *are* just down the road from each other, and are somewhere in the vicinity of Venus.

**jowrites** Dick felt himself go even harder as the One Armed Man threw his arms possessively around Doc Ice's waist. "You want me to whack him?" asked Sheriff Skinner, a tall, bronzed god of a man with eyes like oreos, just the dark cookie bit; he kept the sweet soft center hidden deep inside.

Manip by Jowrites

"Diamond Dick's" heart skipped a beat as his blood went south, and he wished he'd taken his medicine like his doctor ordered. If he had a doctor like her, maybe he would. But he was a wild man, out of control, bent on a path of self-destruction and debauchery, and no woman could tame him.

She kicked back with her stiletto heel, slamming an elbow into old One Arm's ribs. "Sorry, Alex," she said, "it's time 'Diamond Dick' here learned the meaning of ice." Dick felt his balls tighten. "And you," she said, focusing her sapphire lasers on his mighty crotch, "stop feeling yourself."

**Anubis** "Oh, I think *I* can handle his balls, Miss Scully," interrupted the saloon-mistress temptress, whose name was Vi. Vi A'Gra was a tall, leggy, brunette woman- of-the-world, a worldly woman and womanly worldly in her worldly, womanly ways. She could keep a man going for forty-eight hours, but also knew that doing so could cause a man problems and he'd have to see the town doctor, unless he just really got off on long-lasting "occasions" that wouldn't go away and couldn't be satisfied, no matter what.

Vi sidled up to Dick, pressing her voluptuous body -- but nowhere near as voluptuous as Dana "Siberia", because, after all, no one, and I mean, NO ONE, could really measure up to the Ice Queen -- against Dick's throbbing member.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM, YOU HARLOT!" Dana shouted, back-handing Vi violently, Vi's violet eyes watering away as she fell onto what was left of the sawdust-covered saloon floor, hitting her head on the brass spittoon, thereby knocking her up, er, out of contention for the attentions of "Diamond Dick."

She patently ignored both the town loony, One-Armed Alex *and* Sheriff Skinner's oreo-colored eyes, now milky with tears at her rejection.

**siggy** "Why, Miz Scully, you sure are purty," Dick drawled as he attempted to swagger towards her. It was proving difficult, him being so hard 'n all. He settled for a slightly less manly lurch, opting for comfort over machismo.

Grabbing him by his gold belt buckle in the shape of a large X "Siberia" Scully impaled him with her arctic gaze, " You know what I did to the last hombre that called me 'purty'?" she asked, her voice slow and thick, like molasses. 'God damned allergies,' she thought.

"Nope" Yes, Dick was a real smooth talker when he had to be.

"I shot him. It's 'PRETTY' you shit-kicking moron. When will you idiots learn to speak English?"

**Anubis** "I got my book learnin' in Ox's Ford, Miz Scully." Dick leaned towards her, his manly manhood grazing her breasts (he was that much taller than her. Really!). "You're purty pretty, Miz Scully." He leered at her suggestively, almost tripping over Vi's body and the over-turned spittoon that was spitting out its spilt contents, or, spilling out its spit contents, depending entirely on your point of view, of course. (Either way, it was crap to get off yer boots.)

"Ya know," Sheriff Skinner interjected, his commanding oreo eyes crumbling in despair at Siberia's obvious ogling interest in "Diamond Dick's" diamond-cutting dick, "I could just throw you in the callaboose for what yer thinkin' about Miz Scully here!"

Dick turned his sometimes-but-not-always-hazel-colored eyes on the sheriff. "I think it's plausible that someone thinks she's purty pretty *and* hot. Surely you know that, sheriff!"

"Of *course* I'm hot, you idiot." Siberia raised one fatal eyebrow at him. "The damned saloon's on fire!"

"Yes, I know she's hot, Dick," Sheriff Skinner rasped and coughed at him through the smoke. "And don't call me 'Shirley.'"

"How dare you!" Siberia screamed at the sheriff and slapped him silly. "I am *not,* nor do I have, a 'hot dick,' regardless of the rumors spread around town about me by the Holy Sisters of Charity Order Union #1013 of the Sacred Sepulcher of the Virgin Ladies' Circle of Quilting!"

**siggy** Dick caught ahold of Siberia and pulled her to his manly chest. "Look little lady, I don't much mind what you have under those frilly skirts of yours. My pant leg is on fire. Have you any idea how hard it is to get pants with a reinforced crotch? I have to send away to Pittsburgh for 'em and they don't come cheap. So, how about you and me moseying on out of here?"

Manip by aka "Jake"

Dick's eyes blazed. He knew a euphemism when he heard one. They strolled out of the saloon, leaving Sheriff Skinner to drag the still-insensate Vi from the raging inferno. "No one ever offers to let me stick my leg in their trough," he muttered under his breath, wincing as yet another molar shattered under the pressure of his manly clenched jaw. "Aww shit." Yep, it was back to that bastard barber, Kersh, for some more dental work.

**Anubis** Sheriff Skinner cracked another molar when he heard "Diamond Dick" whisper, in a loud stage voice that could be heard all the way to Wells-Fargo, "Don't know which one I wanna do first with you, Little Lady: ride point, or ride drag, if you know what I mean (and I think you do). Let's go somewhere and blast the crap out of each other, if you know what I mean (and I think you do.)"

Skinner just wanted to fill his hand and blast the crap outta somethin', too, but it was kinda hard to do with the Harlot Vi in his arms and his eyes and nose full of smoke. Maybe he shouldn't wear those crotch-less chaps anymore. They didn't do a *thing* for his figure, anyway. But they *did* allow him quick and easy access to his own manly attributes.

Out on the boardwalk, he dropped the Harlot Vi in an undignified heap, her hoop skirts riding up and leaving nothing to the imagination, drawing quite a crowd of male admirers, not to mention some transvestite saloon "girls," that Vi would charge two bits for under other circumstances. But given she was out like she got kicked in the head by a brass spittoon, she really didn't have anything to say about the matter.

What had made Sheriff Skinner stop in his crotch-less, dusty, smoky, molar-cracking steps in the street, other than the pile of horse crap he'd just stepped in, was the sight that greeted him right on the edge of Climax.

Riding in was one of the filthiest, dirtiest, nastiest, mangiest, most vile group of villains that rode the West. It was -- *gasp!* -- The Lone Gunmen! Skinner wondered about their mathematical abilities considering that "lone" meant alone, or one, and "gunmen" was plural, but he really didn't have time to worry about that. He just wanted to get back to his office and board the place up, being that he was the *only* lawman in town and there was *no way* he could take on all three of them: Mad Shorty Frohike, Kid Ringo Langly and Dandy John Byers.

**siggy** The three riders pulled up in front of Sheriff Skinner. "We're lookin' fer 'Diamond Dick' Mulder. You seen him?" the short mean-looking one asked. "By the way Sheriff, you do realize that yer wearing crotch-less pants?"

"Well shit Fro' I think he looks totally gnarly," the Blond one said dropping out of the local vernacular.

Skinner gave the Blond gunman a lingering look. Maybe the day wasn't going to be a total write-off after all.

"'Diamond Dick's' over yonder, he's the fella with his leg in the trough," he said, pointing. "I'll thank you to mind your own business when it comes to my pants." He snarled, then fluttered his eyelashes coquettishly at Langly.

The three men sauntered over to Dick who was examining the uvula of a feisty-looking redhead.

"My lord, Siberia, you're one hell of a woman." He moaned into her mouth.

"You bet I am, don't you go listening to those Nuns, and for Pete's sake don't talk into my mouth like that, it's disgusting and you don't enunciate properly. Jesus."

"'Diamond Dick' Mulder?" The cultured tones of John "The Dandy" Byers interrupted their romantic interlude.

"Yep, that's me. Who wants to know?"

"We're the Lone Gunmen," the three of them said in unison.

"Errm, you do know that you've got your tenses all wrong?" Siberia interjected in her usual pedantic way.

Frohike gave her a look of half-crazed lust. "That ain't the only thing that's tense around here," he said with a leer.

"We know who has your sister," Byers interrupted dramatically.

Mulder's eyes narrowed and his rugged face paled. "My sister was taken by the faeries or by starlight or something equally improbable, my Momma told me."

"Faeries!?" snorted Siberia. "You're really not that bright are you, Dick?"

"Lady, with a dick like mine, who need brains?" Dick grinned, stupidly.

"Excuse me," Byers said impatiently, annoyed that his big dramatic moment had been lost. "About your sister? We know who has her."

"Who?" chorused the entire cast apart from the Lone Gunmen, of course.

"Why it's the Mayor of this very town. It's that black- lunged son-of-a-bitch, Mayor Spender."

**OkayVal** Everybody gasped and Siberia stopped giving Frohike the eye and turned a dozen shades of red, crimson, titian and scarlet, all at once.

"Mayor Spender?" Mulder bellowed. "Why, that smoking son-of-a-bitch! Where is he?"

"Now hold on, Dick, don't get your shorts in a bunch," Skinner said.

"Hey, what goes on inside my pants is none of yer damn business," Mulder replied, somewhat miffed.

"I just think that we need to find out if these boys have the real goods, is all," Skinner replied.

"I think they have the goods, alright," said Siberia, moving closer to Frohike, who was practically drooling at this point. "I'm the only one here qualified to question them and I'll find out everything they know."

"Hey, wait a minute," Mulder called after her as she sashayed off with Frohike. "What's he got that I ain't?"

"A pair of chaps, you idiot. Do you know how that dick of yours would look if you were wearing chaps?" She rolled her eyes at him and turned back to Mad Shorty, who she knew would make up for his lack of size in other ways.

**Obfusc8er** "Diamond Dick" sauntered over to the palpating pair. It seemed that Siberia Scully was melting in the arms of the Lone Gunman, having totally forgotten to ask him anything. She poured herself over the tiny man like a spring gulleywasher. "Diamond Dick's" eyes finally quit changing colors and settled on green.

"Mister, get your grubby half-fingered mitts off of her, or I'm a-callin' you out."

Scully cradled Mad Shorty's rugged, unshaven visage in her hands, which, in their ravenous exploration, had somehow ended up wearing Frohike's gloves.

"Don't do it," she pleaded. "He's the fastest draw in these parts."

Frohike gazed up at Scully and said, "Sorry, honeymuffin, but I gotta do what a man's gotta do." He paused for her to move aside. Then, Frohike took two steps forward and drew himself up to full height, which was exactly eye-level with "Diamond Dick's" crotch.

"I know you're the meanest, toughest, rootin'-tootin'est man in this town, but you're making a terrible mistake. Just because I'm short doesn't mean I can't handle myself. Your eagerness to draw may be...premature."

"Doesn't matter," Mulder replied. "Either me or you has to leave. Even with Ms. Scully and Vi A'gra, Climax ain't big enough for the both of us."

There was tension in the air, and testosterone. So much testosterone, in fact, that the top two buttons popped off of Scully's dress, exposing more of her heaving bosom. Now she had another pair of glowing orbs pointed straight at Mulder.

"Stand back, Ms. Scully. This could get dangerous."

"Oh, I can't bear to watch!" she exclaimed, and buried her sobs in Sheriff Skinner's chest.

"Okay, gentlemen," Skinner boomed in his burly, baritone voice as he held Scully in his gentle, yet manly, arms. "You know the rules. Ten paces, turn, and draw."

Everyone in town scattered from the street, leaving it empty. Mulder walked slowly to the middle and waited as the smaller, hairier man followed. But when Mulder turned around, Mad Shorty had been joined by his odd cadre.

"This is a duel. As in two. You can't all be out here."

"Well, it's that whole grammatical problem," Byers explained. "Even though we are plural Gunmen, we're still considered Lone as a group..."

"Whatever," Mulder said. "Let's get on with it."

"Backs together," called Sheriff Skinner.

There was some jostling and jockeying for position before the four men managed to get all of their backs together.

"When I count to ten, turn and fire."

All four men's heads bobbed in acknowledgement.

"One...two...three..."

"Diamond Dick" moved with cavalier calm, his hands poised to draw, but inside him, the tension was building with each step.

Scully gasped, sensing the amazing control this task required of Mulder.

"Four...five...six..."

More tension. Building.

"Seven...eight..."

Building.

"Nine..."

Until "Diamond Dick" was ready to burst.

"TEN!"

Mulder whipped around. The Gunmen never saw it coming. The reinforced crotch ripped right out of Diamond Dick's decidedly chapless pants, flying through the air and knocking down the Lone Gunmen like so many bowling pins. Mulder had never even moved his hands

Scully screamed in delight.

Mulder grunted.

Climax had once again achieved balance. The whole town seemed to glow.

Scully rushed out to "Diamond Dick" and wrapped her arms around him, sealing their respective pouty lips together. The Lone Gunmen walked dejectedly to the nearest saloon to drown their troubles as the happy couple remained in the street. Mulder and Scully had to pause their oral explorations long enough to breathe.

"You wanna go back to my place? My saloon, I mean," Scully offered. "I could really use a cigarette..."

"That sounds like a fine idea, little Chuckwagon of Love. I'm suddenly famished," he replied.

"Come with me, then..."

**siggy** The two of them strolled back over to the saloon. Dick was feeling the evening chill now that a substantial part of his pants had gone. Luckily the saloon was still blazing away, which warmed him up no end.

"Darn it, I need a whiskey. Shooting off my crotch like that always gives me a thirst," he said licking his oh-so- pouty bottom lip

"Well, darlin', don't you worry, I have just the thing." Siberia gave him a sultry smile and reached into her ample alabaster cleavage and produced a bottle of 'Old Gut Rot' the finest bourbon in the county.

"My, Siberia, you are just full of surprises," Dick said, taking a swig of the russet liquid. .

"I told you not to go talking to those Nuns." She bristled.

"I meant the bourbon."

"Oh, well that's all right then."

Siberia looked down to where Dick's reinforced crotch had once been and, licking her lips, she sashayed towards him.

"Why are you walking like that?" Dick asked, puzzled.

"I'm sashaying, you twit. Have you never seen a woman sashay before?"

"Nope, sorry. I thought you had some sort of bladder problem."

Siberia sighed; she obviously needed some more work on the sashaying. It looked as though she was going to have to spend more money at the Bambi Berenbaum School of Seductive Walking. " My bladder's just fine, but I'm feeling a little peckish, if you know what I mean," she said, eyeing his towering manhood.

"I have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in my pocket if you'd like it," he offered.

"No, Dick I'm feeling more like licking a big salami." She winked at him

"Have you got something in your eye?"

"Oh for crying out loud. Your dick! I'm talking about your dick, you clueless cretin."

"Oh, riiight. Well in that case, my little cowpat of loveliness, let's go on behind the barn and have an all- you-can-eat buffet," Dick drawled.

"Now you're talking," Siberia said, drooling. "By the way, did I mention that I can dislocate my jaw at will?"

"Yeeeeehaw!"

**OkayVal** As they got up to head for the barn, the saloon door swung open and there stood Madam Diana, the Foulest Woman in the West. She'd run the Henhouse and was 'Diamond Dick's' main chickadee until Mayor Spender ran her out of town, but nobody knew why. She was an imposing figure with her dark hair and torpedo- shaped breasts, which were pointing straight at Mulder.

Manip by Tali (boobs by Obfusc8er)

"Who the hell are you?" Scully matched her snarl with a icy stare. She wasn't called Siberia for nothing.

"Ask Dick here. Nice to see you again, Dick. Glad to know some things haven't changed around here," she said, switching from a snarl to a purr as she gazed longingly at Dick's manhood.

"What brings you back here?" Mulder managed to choke out. He didn't know whether to look at Diana's torpedo chest or Scully's heaving orbs, so he swiveled his head back and forth to stare at both, and it was making him dizzy.

**emily sim** Diamond's dick grew impossibly larger, thicker, and harder as Madame Diana took turns staring down Siberia and his throbbing, pulsing manhood. She kept licking those plump, juicy lips each time she turned her brown eyes on him.

Siberia, not one to back down from a confrontation, didn't flinch. Her cerulean blue eyes grew darker to match her mood. Her perfect, heart-shaped mouth was pulled in a grimace and her chest was heaving, moving those perfect orbs in and out.

The saloon went silent, holding its breath, waiting to see what would come of the confrontation.

Siberia pushed her sleeves up and widened her stance.

Diamond Dick's head was still swiveling from side to side. The torpedo chest or the heaving orbs. What was a man to do?

Madame Diana saw Siberia's stance and matched it.

It occurred to Diamond that if he was lying on the floor he could have a great view up each woman's skirts. That thought just made his hot rod of love jump in anticipation.

A whistle came out of the silence. "Hot damn, fellas. Look's like we's going get us a chick fight."

The saloon erupted with the sounds of scraping chairs as scrawny men with much smaller dicks shoved tables out of the way and pulled closer to the action. One fine gentleman, who had most of his teeth, set up a betting table over by the bar. Painted ladies were tossed off of patrons laps and forced to the sidelines as the men jockeyed for position.

Siberia, Madame Diana, and Diamond were oblivious to the ruckus around them. Diamond had decided he couldn't choose and was trying to figure out a way to have both of them. He knew staying power wasn't a problem. Diamond could go all night -- none of that once- a-night-and-it's-all-over for this man. He looked up to find the two women had moved closer to one another and were now circling. What was this? Were they going to fight over him? He looked around and saw the men circled around, the painted ladies forming a ring against the wall. Holy shit! A fucking chick fight. And, wouldn't you know it, his dick got even harder and bigger.

Madame Diana's brown eyes were smoldering, and Siberia's had gone from that clear cerulean he loved so much to a slightly darker blue. He knew his own eyes would be changing color, from green to gray and all sorts of shades in between because he was so conflicted. He couldn't let them go through with this! So many things were going through his head! He needed post-it notes to keep them all straight! A chick fight was sexy as hell but what if they hurt each other so much they couldn't have sex with him after? And on the heels of that thought, he wondered how he could get the two of them interested in a three-way when they were so pissed at each other. Then again, he could just find a corner and grab ahold of his throbbing manhood and take care of things himself while he watched them paw each other. He wondered if he suggested that they take it outside to the mud pit if they'd be interested?

He placed his head in his hands, almost sobbing.

**Obfusc8er** Then he moved his hands up to his face.

**emily sim** What was he going to do?

**Anubis** It was at that EXACT moment that the saloon doors swung open, the noise causing everyone in the place to look up and away from the female spectacle that was about to happen.

"What you oughta do, you idiots, is git outta here!" It was Vi A'Gra again. She'd come, too (or was that "come to"?) and had stumbled back towards the saloon and had slammed the doors open with a "thwack," and there she stood, having finally gotten up from the boardwalk, ass full of splinters, a sizeable goose-egg on her head from having had it hit the spittled spittoon in the first place, the dimensions of which approximated the size of "Diamond Dick's" dick (with spit on it). "The gall-durn saloon's still on fire, ya know! Ain't none of you got any heads?"

Every man, and woman, in the saloon looked down at their own respective crotches, and at each others', just to size themselves up against each other, the transvestite saloon girls only bothering with looking in their own laps, and occasionally, some people looked at Siberia in curiosity. But "Diamond Dick" didn't have to look too far down, thankfully. He was the biggest dick of 'em all.

"Ya know," Kid Ringo Langly said, scratching his oily blond hair that hadn't seen a good washin' in darn near a coon's age, "That's a hard question, grammur-'n-'rithmatick-wise 'n all."

"Yes," Dandy John Byers broke in. "Since we're the LONE GunMEN, we technically have only two heads, but I know from personal experience that I have two by myself. I can't speak for my compadres here, though."

Melvin "Shorty" Frohike glared at him. "What th' HELL do you mean by that, Dandy? Why, jus' th' other night, 'round the campfire, you looked deep into my beautiful orbs an' told me that my -- "

"HEY!" Kid Ringo cut in, yelling at Dandy John. "You told ME *I* was the ONLY one -- "

It was at that EXACT moment that the saloon burst into an uproar, everyone blaming everyone else and completely losing sight of the great chick fight that had been about to happen, which really pissed off Siberia and Madame Diana, who stood in the middle of things and stamped their feet daintily, unintentionally putting out small fires in what was left of the sawdust-covered floor.

It was at that EXACT moment that the fire and smoke got caught in a backdraft, shooting flames that wuz just a- lookin' fer more ox-ee-gin. The saloon doors chose that EXACT moment to thwack back into their places with an audible thwack, as much as they could, what with the fire and smoke, the hinges bein' rusty 'n all, not to mention nearly melted by the heat of the fire, and Vi's head being in the way (and being a real gurl, Vi only had one head, if you counted the one mounted on the top of her neck). She was knocked flat back out onto the boardwalk, garnering her ass a shitload bunch more splinters, by the doors with a giant "thwack," her head hurting painfully, and instantly starting to grow yet another gigantic lump, her giant pet thwack waiting dutifully by her side.

It was at that EXACT moment that the men (and a few saloon girls) ran to the boardwalk to get a look under her skirt (something that was secretly tempting to Siberia, too, though she'd never admit it openly, though her heart was telling her she could use her credentials as a doctor to use the excuse of getting the splinters out of Vi's ass to look up her skirt, making her alabaster/porcelain orbs heave even harder), making the head count in the saloon a bit smaller, so to speak (which was no small feat, considerin' "Diamond Dick's" manful presence). They'da all tooken a chance at feelin' her up, but the growlin' giant thwack by her side kept 'em all at arm's distance.

"Vi's right," came the calm, cool, collected sound of another familiar voice. No one could see him because of the smoke, so he stepped further into the inferno, taking a puff from his hand-rolled cigarette, made with quality Morley™©®, Ltd., PPL, a Limited Liability Partnership tobacky, from the fine state of Kentucky (which may or may not have been a state then, depending entirely on what year this story was set), which really has nothing to do with the story, but it's been put here because I couldn't think of anything else to say about it right here.

It was at that EXACT moment that a collective gasp went up around the saloon, not to mention inside it, which brought on a major coughing fit from everyone due to extensive smoke inhalation.

It was at that EXACT moment that Diamond Dick's eyes narrowed and he immediately forgot about both Siberia and Madame Diana -- which wasn't manful of him at all, considerin' his size, length and girth, not to mention his impressive reputation and Womanly Harem of the Golden West that followed him around like sycophants (which were distant relatives of elephants), and bore down on the one man who could set him off faster'n anyone callin' his eyes "teal."

"Whar's my sister, you cigarette-rollin'-smokin'-tobacky- chewin'-sorry-ass-son-of-a-Siberian-biscuit-eater!" "Diamond Dick" pulled back his fist to hit the wrinkled, tobacco-stained face of Mayor Spender, but Spender didn't even flinch.

Because he knew that Mulder could never reach him with his fist. Not with his "Diamond Dick" between them, anyways.

It was at that EXACT moment that Mayor Spender merely smiled evilly, glanced at Siberia and then back to Dick. "Much though I may have wanted to, I have never eaten Siberia's biscuit." He threw his butt to what was left of the floor, then got up and threw his cigarette butt to the floor and pointlessly stomped out the lit end, especially since the saloon was still burning around them. "And by the way, I don't *chew* tobacco; that can give you prostRate cancer."

It was at that EXACT moment that Dick hardened under the comment and threw another punch at the dastardly Mayor, missing again, but catching the man in the kneecap with his diamond dick.

"WHAR'S MY SISTER??!!" Dick roared in Climax, just down the road from Intercourse (not far from the town of Venus).

"Why, Mr. Mulder," Mayor Spender said in a low, even tone, "what makes you think *I* have your sister? For all I know, *you* could have "taken" her; you're certainly capable of it, or so I've heard ... Fox."

It was at that EXACT moment that "Diamond Dick" stopped in mid-thrust, er, lunge. "What'd you call me?"

"Fox," retorted Mayor Spender, as he reached for a bag of smokin' tobacky and a paper roller from a package that had a picture of a hippie and some strange five-pointed leaf on its cover. "That *is* your real first name, isn't it ... Fox?"

It was at that EXACT moment that, for the first time since "Diamond Dick" reached Climax, his throbbing manhood wasn't throbbing any longer. Only his *real* given name had the power to kill his ardor.

"Aren't you wondering how I know your name ... your *real* first name ... Fox?" Mayor Spender lit his cigarette from a burning 2x4 he'd picked up that had fallen from the ceiling onto a nearby table. He threw the 2x4 aside, taking out a couple of drifters who'd been in Climax for awhile, visiting with Vi A'Gra.

"Diamond Dick" Fox Mulder stared, open-mouthed, at Mayor Spender, his gorgeous, pouty, swollen bottom lip quivering for a change instead of his impressive manhood. Dick nearly tumped over in shock.

"I know your *real* first name, Fox," Mayor Spender said, "Because ..." he took a deep draw off of the cigarette and blew out the smoke, further clouding the issues in the blazing saloon.

**siggy** "Whoa, whoa, hang on a cotton picking minute." The banshee tones of Diana broke in, destroying a beautifully constructed moment of dramatic tension. "What about me, huh? When do I get to have a fully developed and rounded character with lots of interesting back-story? Why do I just have to be the bitch all the gosh darned time? Why?"

"Oh, shut the hell up, Diana," Sheriff Skinner snarled. "At least you get to have sex once in a while and you don't have to talk with your jaw permanently clenched. Have you any idea how much that bastard barber, Kersh, charges for reconstructive dental work? And he has even less character development than you. So jus' stop your whining, woman."

Manip by Phil

"Well, shit, Sheriff. I was only askin'."

"Ladies and gentlemen, if we could all focus on the matter at hand," Spender oozed. "I believe that I was about to reveal something about our dear friend Dick here."

"If you ask me he's revealed quite enough as it is," said a voice that no one had heard before.

Everybody's head whipped round to see who had just walked into the saloon giving themselves a nasty crick in their respective necks. Siberia's eyes narrowed and her pale, porcelain, alabaster skin went even paler until she was almost translucent. "Well, if it isn't the Mother Superior of the Holy Sisters of Charity Order Union #1013 of the Sacred Sepulcher of the Virgin Ladies' Circle of Quilting," she hissed. (All in one breath too!)

"Yes, and how are you these days, my dear? Do you still pee standing up?"

"Why you wimple-wearing hag, I oughta..." Siberia started towards the smug, pinched face of the nun, her fist raised.

Dick grabbed her by her upper arms and held her to him. "No, Siberia, you can't go hitting a nun, it ain't right." Dick said. Although he sort of liked the idea of the two women in a cat fight, but the nun just hadn't got it in the chest department and she was kinda old. Maybe if one of the novices came along, now that might be fun.

"Let go of me Dick, you don't understand. She's no nun, she's the head of an international consortium bent on obtaining power at any cost. She's in league with that cigarette-smoking bastard, Mayor Spender." Siberia struggled in his manly grasp, her pert rounded globes quivering in agitation.

"But that can't be true, my momma had one of their quilts. She said they were the best gosh-darned quilts in the whole world. My momma wouldn't lie to me."

"That's where you're wrong, Dick." The smug voice of the Mother Superior cut in. " Your momma used to be Sister Margaret Luke of the Immaculate Cross Stitch, one of our finest nuns, and most effective agents."

"Well, shit," Dick drawled, his towering manhood deflating, slowly.

**audu2**::insert throbbing organ music HERE::

**Tali** "Ma momma was an agent? Well that there explains why she would nevah let me suckle when a was just a young 'un. It's the reason I got me an or-al fix-a- shun."

"But, Dick, you know how much I love your oral fix-a- shun." Siberia wailed, eyeing up Dick's flagging man parts.

**Obfusc8er** ::The entire fic should have throbbing organ music...::

"And she almost single-handedly necessitated that the Sisters of the Immaculate Cross-Stitch change the name of their order," Spender added, taking a long, reflective drag from yet another cigarette.

"You son-of-a-bitch!" yelled Mulder, his hands balled into fists.

Spender approached Mulder, leaning forward with his palms resting on a still-smoldering table.

"You would know," Spender replied, lighting another cigarette from the nearby flaming drapes.

Mulder squared off against his foe from the opposite side of the table, hackles raised. He growled and slammed his hands on the wooden surface. His testosterone was pumping again, and everyone in the room could feel it.

The table smoldered. Mulder smoldered. Scully and Diana took turns smoldering and heaving their breasts.

Sensing that trouble was imminent, Sheriff Skinner made a suggestion.

"Perhaps you two gentlemen would care to take this outside."

Spender and Mulder nodded simultaneously -- and proceeded to lift the table and carry it out the swinging double doors. Just to prove his superior masculinity, Mulder hefted his end of the table with his arms folded across his chest. After having removed yet another fire hazard, the men strode back into the saloon.

**emily sim** The fire was glinting off Siberia's perfect, pale alabaster skin right into Madam Diana's eyes. It was one of the benefits of having such lovely, smooth, pale skin, which felt just like velvet when you touched it.

Diamond realized if he was going to get any he would need to stop this nonsense between both these women right away, but he still had Spender to deal with.

Spender was a horrible, nasty man. He was always smoking those damn cigarettes and never seemed to cough. The men stood two feet apart, their eyes flashing at each other. Of course, Diamond's were now a deep brown, slightly speckled with a touch of green, he was so angry.

It was obvious something was about to give. The room held its breath and quite suddenly, Spender started to laugh.

"What the hell do ya'll find so funny, you black-lunged cancer-stick smoking son-of-a-bitch?" Diamond's hands were clenched in fists and tremors began to shake him.

"Oh Diamond, you stupid man. There is a perfect solution to this climactic situation, one in which we can both have resolution."

"You have two minutes to speak your piece you black-lunged cancer --"

"Oh stop it. Look, I'll take one and you take the other. I kind of like the dark-haired one with torpedo breasts. They sit so perfectly atop her body and heave in such a symmetrical way. And she's tall, with those long legs that I like so much."

Diamond was conflicted. Of course, this meant a kaleidoscope of colors for his eyes as once again they began to change from brown to hazel to green. Spender's words, even though he hated the man with everything in him - and he didn't trust him either - reminded him that he liked them long-legged, brunette and torpedo-breasted. Of course, that was before he met Siberia.

Diamond watched the two women, who were still circling each other, their perfect breasts still heaving. He would really like to have both of them but he would happily settle for one right now. There was only one way to choose......

"Okay, we'll do rock, paper, scissors for them."

Spender motioned for Sheriff Skinner, who put himself between both pairs of heaving breasts and called a halt to the circling.

Spender and Diamond, whose poor dick was still flaccid and lifeless, really a pathetic-looking thing with those now- crotch-less pants, faced each other, hands at the ready.

Sheriff Skinner had both his hands full. He was taking the job of holding both women apart seriously, and was enjoying how each woman's breasts felt. His hands were so big and so wide that he could actually touch both breasts on both women at the same time. The two women, normally independent and not likely to allow such liberty, had been so turned-on with all their circling that they didn't mind. Madame Diana's torpedoes had hard little points, almost like diamonds, jutting out. Siberia's were less pronounced, but just as hard.

Diamond began to count backwards. His eidetic memory helped with this. He didn't need to look the numbers up or anything. He could just recall them as if they were written in front of him.

"Five, four, three, two, one."

Both men put their hands out. Diamond had chosen paper, Spender had rock. Spender got first pick of the women. Diamond was not happy with that at all. In fact, he was so unhappy that his eyes were almost black, and his pouty lip was pulled into a snarl. There was no way he was letting that black-lunged son-of-a-bitch grab his girl. He couldn't take a chance and have Spender choose Siberia. Yes, Siberia. He realized, with a pang somewhere south of his stomach, much further down than his belly button, that he wanted her.

**Radikel** "Diamond Dick" instantly whistled for his horse, Reticula, a massive gray stallion who curiously appeared green in some lighting conditions.

His faithful steed clopped to his side, whereupon Dick instantly mounted him. He then pulled Siberia up into the saddle -- sidesaddle of course. After all, a lady must maintain her dignity if she was off to roll in the hay with "Diamond Dick" Mulder. She was crossing her fingers that the only thing poking her in the ass would be the hay.

They set off in the direction (No! Not the erection!!) of the barn. Siberia chanced a glance over her shoulder at the Three Amigos, I mean The Lone Gunmen. They had exited the saloon after hearing rumors that "Diamond Dick" was taking her to the renowned "BARN".

"Dick, should we go back and explain to them our undying lust? I mean attraction?" Siberia asked.

"No, honey darlin'" Dick replied, "they're just experiencin' a bit of Dick envy."

**OkayVal** "Speaking of which," Siberia said, wishing she could get the hell off this stupid horse already and ride something a bit more to her liking, and also because the little diamond studs on the too-small saddle were really starting to dig into her ass, "What about that nickname of yours? I want some proof that you really can cut diamonds with that thing," she said, observing that said thing was now returning to its previous turgid state, no doubt due to the proximity of her toned-but- slender thigh and the pounding rhythm of the ride.

"Why, my little saddlesore, it'll be my pleasure."

"Actually, if the rumors ARE true, it's going to be my pleasure. Where the hell is this damn barn, anyway?"

"Diamond Dick" suddenly realized that due to her sidesaddle position, he had a magnificent view of Siberia's orbs, which had stopped heaving since she mounted the horse and were now bouncing wildly up and down, and this had gotten him so distracted that he'd passed the barn three times and forgotten to stop.

Meanwhile, back in the saloon, Diana and Spender were fixin' for a showdown of their own. They hadn't laid eyes (or hands or mouths or any other body parts) on each other since Spender had run her out of town.

"So, Diana, it seems you can't get enough of Climax, can you?" he smirked at her.

**siggy** Diana gave Spender a sultry look. "Mayor, you know how I love 'coming' here."

"You are a very, naughty girl. "I may have to punish you." Spender slowly pulled a black leather glove over his tobacco stained fingers.

A thrill of dark pleasure quivered through Diana's voluptuous body. "Oooooh, yeeees," she moaned and walked towards him.

"Bend over, you bad, bad girl." Spender drooled.

::A short break whilst the author nips out to throw up::

"Oi, you two. I'm still here. Remember me, the mean woman in a wimple?" the Mother Superior interjected.

"Oh my lord, Mother, I'd totally forgotten that you were still here. I'm so sorry," Spender said as he loomed over Diana's ample buttocks. "Do you want the left or the right cheek?"

"Oh, the right I think, please." The nun started to pull on her own black leather glove.

"Let's have at it then." Spender chuckled horribly.

::Another short break, whilst the author seeks counseling::

"Gee willakers, now this is what I call entertainment," Skinner said delightedly as he sat down to watch, beckoning over the three Lone Gunmen. "Hey Langly, you can sit on my lap if you like."

Meanwhile, behind the barn...

"Why, Siberia, your oral skills are something else," Diamond Dick said, a happy smile on his ruggedly handsome face. "I'm real sorry about your tooth though."

"Oh, that's okay. I guess they don't call you "Diamond Dick" for nothing, and anyway I've always fancied one of those nice shiny gold teeth that the bastard barber, Kersh, puts in. They're real purty...cough...I mean pretty."

"Well, Siberia, I think it's time for you to get the full measure of 'Diamond Dick', if you know what I mean," Dick said, crawling towards her, wincing slightly as his towering manhood dragged through the prickly straw. "Lift up those frilly skirts, my little rodeo of joy, and let's do some bareback ridin'."

Siberia smiled shyly and lifted her skirts, slowly revealing her stumpy but perfectly-formed porcelain, alabaster, Clarice Clift, Willow pattern thighs to his hungry gaze.

Dick (both of them) watched, as at last she revealed her secret womanly regions.

"My god, Siberia! That truly is amazing. I ain't never seen one of THOSE before." He gasped, astounded.

**audu2** insertion of throbbing organ music here!(because after all, we've gotta signal something, and the derned music is the way to do that)

**Anubis** Siberia glanced coyly up at "Diamond Dick's" kaleidoscoping eyes, and got dizzy watching them change colors.

"You've never seen a ..." she leaned closely and whispered in his ear.

"Dang, no!" Dick exclaimed. "I don't even think I ever hearda that, neither! What the hell IS a ..." he leaned back and whispered something in her ear.

Siberia giggled and forced herself to NOT look into his eyes. She was afraid she'd get too dizzy again and fall off the hayloft in the barn. Instead, she looked at the ceiling, noticing some hens that were roosting above them which were staring down at Diamond's dick with weird red eyes. *Talk about peckish!* she thought inanely as a glob of chicken shit hit him in the back of the head.

Ignoring everything but that which was under her skirt, petticoat, second layer of petticoats, third, fourth, fifth and sixth layers of petticoats, then her seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth layer of petticoats, and so forth and so on, up to, and including, her forty-second layer of petticoats, her slip, then her chemise, her pettipants, pantyhose, garters and stockings, fishnet hose, leg warmers, socks with toes in them that were rainbow striped and kinda reminded her of Diamond's rainbow (but not teal) eyes and then finally her Victoria's Secret™©® Quilted Underwear in the pattern of the Cathedral Window Quilt, he looked back up into her eyes and asked, "Exactly what *is* a..." and he leaned over to whisper in her ear again.

"Weeeelllllllllll," Siberia demurred, drawing out this painfully long scene of "Diamond Dick" tryin' ta find out 'zackly what she DID have under her skirts, aside from a petticoat, second layer of petticoats, third, fourth, fifth and sixth layers of petticoats, then her seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth layer of petticoats, and so forth and so on, up to, and including, her forty-second layer of petticoats, her slip, then her chemise, her pettipants, pantyhose, garters and stockings, fishnet hose, leg warmers, socks with toes in them that were rainbow striped and kinda reminded her of Diamond's rainbow (but not teal) eyes and then finally her Victoria's Secret™©® Quilted Underwear in the pattern of the Cathedral Window Quilt (which, on second look kinda reminded him more of the Infamous Rose Window of the San Jose Mission Cathedral down San Antone way, which wasn't that durn far from the Mission San Antonio del Valero de Bexar ::which is pronounciated "Bayer," like the assprin, NOT "Becks-ur," like it looks::, otherwise known as The Alamo [the one that made John Wayne and Richard Widmark and a buncha other pansy- ass actors famous, not to mention the blue truck you can see toolin' along in the background if yer lucky enough to have gotten a big, big screen television and watch the background when Santa Ana's troops are attackin' the Alamo towards the end of the movie that was, more or less, on March 6th, 1836, which was Alamo Day, not to be confused with March 2nd, 1836, which was Texas Independence Day] which was famous). "It's a..." and she leaned over and whispered in his ear again.

"Diamond Dick" leaned back blinking at her. "Whut th' fuck's a Chastity Belt?"

"Weeeeeeelllllllll," Siberia demurred again, causing Diamond to roll his rainbow/kaleidoscopic eyes at her, making her dizzy again and, thankfully forgetting to continue to demure. "It keeps me ... chaste."

"Diamond Dick" blinked again. "Baby powder takes care of chafin', ya know. I use it after ridin' in my too-tight, hand-tooled diamond-studded saddle all the live-long day."

"I said 'chaste,' you ignorant simp! NOT 'chafe!'" Siberia was not only sick of demurring and gettin' dizzy, but of Dick's bein' a dick.

"Whut's th' diffrance?" Dick continued to blink, his eyes swirling madly, the colors mixing into horrendous combinations.

"Wellllll," Siberia tried to demur, but Dick stopped her with a hand to her chastity belt. "My Daddy put it on me so's I wouldn't lose my virginity."

"Diamond Dick" Fox Mulder stared at Dana "Siberia" Scully, his eyes going teal, even by his own admission (which meant he'd likely have ta shoot hisself), in horrified shock. "Well, cut off my dick an' call me 'Alex!'" he shouted. "Why th' hell would innyone do that?"

"So I'd be pure for my wedding night." Siberia batted her eyelashes at him, hinting at what she REALLY wanted from him, other than his dick.

"Well, whar's the fun in THAT?" Dick growled in disgust. "We're messin' up some mighty fine hay for no good reason if'n you cain't get that thang off you."

Siberia watched as another splat of especially-runny chicken shit, from a totally different hen, hit Dick just above his left sorta-but-not-quite teal-colored eye. "I'd be happy to, really. But it'll require the use of a blacksmith, and the only thing we have in this town is an African- American barber, but his name isn't 'Smith,' it's 'Kersh.' Will he do?"

"Won't know 'til we try!" Dick stated, adding, "Daylight's burnin', Siberia!" Dick grabbed Siberia's hand and took off. Completely forgetting they were in the hayloft, they fell to the hay-covered floor, which really wasn't cushiony-comfortable enough to break their fall, but fortunately, a whole herd of chickens did.

NOTE: Special Texas Vernacular Secret Decoder Ring Available for a Nominal Fee. Please see Anubis for details. ::Substantial Penalty for Special Texas Vernacular Secret Decoder Rings Shipped North of the Mason-Dixon Line.::

**Obfusc8er** "Herd of chickens," Siberia said, disbelieving, brushing the chaffing straw from her skirt, petticoat, second layer of petticoats, third, fourth, fifth and sixth layers of petticoats, then her seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth layer of petticoats, and so forth and so on, up to, and including, her forty-second layer of petticoats...

"Sure, I heard of chickens," "Diamond Dick" replied, interrupting her so that he could assist in removing the straw from the rest of her clothing, so it wouldn't take so long to get to the blacksmith. "Diamond Dick's" head was filled to bursting with thoughts of his mission. After all, this suburb of Climax, just down the road from Intercourse, wasn't called Mount Scully for nothin'.

**banlu** Steam hissed from the bucket next to the forge as the smithy doused his hot rod in the cooling water.

"Oops!" said Siberia and "Diamond Dick" as the man tucked his rod back in his pants and straightened his leather apron.

"Sorry folks," he said, dusting off his hands. "Them thar coals can git a might hot, you know. Now, what can I do you for?"

Siberia squinted to see the man in the darkness of the blacksmith shop. He was balding with glasses and looked too soft to be forging iron. "Chuck," she said, reading the name riveted to the front of his apron, "how long have you been smithing?"

He adjusted his glasses on his sooty face. "I assure you, ma'am, I can do any job. Shoe your horse, mend your gate, fix the grooves in your popcorn bowl..."

"Ah don't want you to fix nothin'," said "Diamond" Dick as he lifted Siberia's skirt, petticoat, second layer of petticoats, third, fourth, fifth and sixth layers of petticoats, then her seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth layer of petticoats... "Dadgummit!" he swore as he lost his place and had to start over again.

And so, while Siberia tapped her foot with impatience, Dick lifted her skirt, petticoat, second layer of petticoats, third, fourth, fifth and sixth layers of petticoats, then her seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth layer of petticoats and so forth and so on, up to, and including, her forty-second layer of petticoats, her slip, then her chemise, her pettipants, pantyhose, garters and stockings, fishnet hose, leg warmers, socks with toes in them that were rainbow striped and kinda reminded her of Diamond's rainbow (but not teal) eyes and then finally her Victoria's Secret™©® Quilted Underwear in the pattern of the Cathedral Window Quilt to expose her chastity belt.

Chuck's eyes bulged with excitement. "I've always wanted to get my hands on one of those!" he ejaculated^^ as he reached for the aforementioned object.

Siberia smacked him. "Keep your dirty hands off'n me! Go wash them first! Do you know how long it takes to clean my petticoat, second layer of petticoats, third, fourth, fifth and sixth layers of petticoats, then my seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth layer of petticoats and so forth and so on up to, and including, my forty-second layer of petticoats! It takes the Chinese laundry all day!!! And they take a second day to wash my slip, then my chemise, my pettipants, pantyhose, garters and stockings, fishnet hose, leg warmers, socks with toes in them that are rainbow striped and kinda remind me of Diamond's rainbow (but not teal) eyes and then finally my Victoria's Secret™©® Quilted Underwear in the pattern of the Cathedral Window Quilt!!!! And it was a low-fat cream cheese bagel!!!"

"Diamond Dick" had been a-studyin' that thar chastity belt. "Siberia, my little armadillo, can Ah ask you somethin'? How do ya pee in that dang thing?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out," she huffed. "I just want it off'n me! My daddy the Captain put it on me before he went off to sail the Seven Seas. I think he's on number Five now, so it'll be awhile afore he gits back, and I reaaaally gotta go!"

Chuck leaned down for a closer look. He seemed riveted by the riveting. "Where's the keyhole?"

"Keyhole?" chorused Dick and Siberia.

"Usually these things are locked in place. This doesn't seem to have any kind of lock."

"Why that no-good, dirty, rotten thinks-he-knows-what's- best-for-me big brother Bill of mine!" Siberia grumbled. "Daddy had him pick this dang thing out! I'll kill him!!!!" she screeched, scaring the horses.

"Hold on there, little lady," said Chuck. "I think I know a way to cut it off," he finished, eyeing Diamond Dick's diamond- hard dick.

(^^commonly used in Zane Grey western novels)

**siggy** The Blacksmith produced a strange contraption from the back of his shop.

"Lookee here folks, it's just arrived," he said, waving the object at the frustrated couple.

"What is it?" they asked

"Why, it's called an oxy-acetylene torch. It's just been invented by a Canadian gent named Thomas Leopold Willson."

"Why, that's very interesting. Could you tell us more about this marvelous invention?" Siberia enquired.

"Why yes, my dear. Willson (with two L's) was born in 1860 on a small farm in Princeton, Ontario. He attended high school at Hamilton Collegiate Institute in Hamilton, Ontario, where he showed an interest in physics and chemistry. In particular, Willson was interested in how he could use ideas in physics and chemistry together with electricity to make practical inventions. He is credited with more than 60 inventions from electric arc lighting (which he patented at age 21) to gas navigational buoys and....uhhng."

There was a loud 'bang' and the Blacksmith fell to the floor, shot dead.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Siberia cried.

"Well, I don't know about you, darlin', but that guy was boring the tits off me and the readers of this-here story. Look see, they sent me a petition."

He held up a large sheaf of papers with many rather strange names on it in bold red lettering.

"Oh, I see, fair enough then," Siberia acquiesced. " Right then, Dick, use that torch thing and get this contraption off me."

"Yes, ma'am." Dick set to work and eventually the chastity belt fell off with a loud 'clang' "There you go," Dick said with aplomb.

Siberia rushed over to the trough and sat down in it, putting out the flaming petticoats and more importantly her flaming crotch. "Aaaah, that's better. You should be more careful with that thing," she scolded. "Mind you, it saves me having a 'Hollywood' at Madame McMinge's House of Wax this month."

"Right then, Siberia, I'm ready for ya. Let's get to the good stuff," Dick said as he helped her out of the trough.

"Yes, Dick, I can see you're fully prepared." Siberia eyed his throbbing obelisk of love as it brushed against the roof beams of the Blacksmith's shop. "But shouldn't we be concerned as to the fate of your dear sister? She is in the clutches of that tobacco-stained devil, Mayor Spender. Who knows what he may have done to the poor innocent girl?"

Pic by banlu

"Hmm, it doesn't smell too good either," Siberia said, wafting a pale porcelain, alabaster hand under her nose.

"Come on then, Siberia, the sooner we get this mystery solved, the sooner we can get to the lovin'." Dick grabbed Siberia's hand, noting it's velvety softness as he did so. "My, that's one velvety soft hand you've got there."

"Yes, I usually get Madame McMinge to wax my hands too. Sorry about that."

The both of them set off, back to the flaming saloon to finally sort things out once and for all.

**emily sim** The horse ride was a little rough, even though he was riding a faithful, gallant, badious steed. Diamond was worried he was going to loose poor Siberia. She was pushed up against him in the saddle, her skirt, petticoat, second layer of petticoats, third, fourth, fifth and sixth layers of petticoats, then her seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth layer of petticoats and so forth and so on, up to, and including, her forty-second layer of petticoats, splayed out on both sides of the faithful, gallant, badious steed. It felt nice, his dick pushed against her ass. He tried to keep the faithful gallant steed at a nice rhythm, noticing that the up and down motion was keeping him nice and hard. He really didn't want to be going back to the saloon. He wanted to bury himself in Siberia's secret womanly regions. He really didn't want to deal with Mother Superior of the Holy Sisters of Charity Order Union #1013 of the Sacred Sepulcher of the Virgin Ladies' Circle of Quilting.

"Oooooooooo." Siberia let out a breathy moan.

Dick leaned over her shoulder. "Are you okay, honey pot?"

"Ooooooooooo - Yeeeeeeesssssss."

It was then that Diamond noticed that Siberia's hands, which should have been gripping the saddle horn, weren't in sight. "Siberia, baby cakes?"

Siberia flung her head back. "Ooooooooooooo - yeeeeeeesssssssss -"

Diamond stopped the faithful, gallant badious, steed and began pulling at her skirt, petticoat, second layer of petticoats, third, fourth, fifth and sixth layers of petticoats, then her seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth layer of petticoats and so forth and so on, up to, and including, her forty-second layer of petticoats until he had found her hands. She had pushed aside her Victoria's Secret™©® Quilted Underwear in the pattern of the Cathedral Window Quilt, and both her hands disappeared into that heavenly, womanly place he had only glimpsed. Her velvety, smooth, pale, alabaster thighs were quivering and her beautiful, clear blue, cerulean eyes were rolling around in her head. Diamond didn't know how he could make it back to the saloon. He was going to loose it. Right here. Right now.

"Oooooooooooooo - Yesssssssssssssss - Wheeeeeeeeeeeee - Ohhhhhhhhhhh Diiiiiiiiaaaaaaamooooooonddddddd," she gasped, panting the words out with difficulty as she ground herself against her hands which were buried in those heavenly depths where he noticed for the very, very first time ever, that she was truly a real red-headed haired vixen. No bottle of number 9 hair dye for his Siberia.

Diamond was conflicted. And as always, whenever poor Diamond was conflicted his eyes began changing color, from brown to green to every combination of the two imaginable. He didn't know if he wanted to watch Siberia pleasure herself or if he wanted to do the job himself. After all, it wasn't every day that a manly man, such as himself, got the opportunity to put his diamond in the --

::Okay - someone with much better wit than I must come up with the clincher for this ending here........or gosh, darn....continue the thang?::

**Anubis** "Whut th' hell?!" Diamond exclaimed as he pulled aside her skirt, petticoat, second layer of petticoats, third, fourth, fifth and sixth layers of petticoats, then her seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth layer of petticoats and so forth and so on, up to, and including, her forty-second layer of petticoats until he had found her hands. She had pushed aside her Victoria's Secret™©® Quilted Underwear in the pattern of the Cathedral Window Quilt.

Turned out, it wasn't her hands that was pleasuring herself. She appeared to be gettin' off on the saddlehorn of Dick's too-small hand-tooled diamond-studded saddle and the diamonds on the horn were apparently having much the same effect as the Trojans (that was "Ribbed Fer Her Pleasure").

"OOOOOOOOooooooooooh, Diamond!" Siberia gasped, "whutever ya do," she said, having been beaten down by all the vernacular and giving in to using it herself, "DON'T stop Reticula! Keep a' goin'!!! This is the best gall-durned thang I done ever experienced in mah IN-tire life!!!" She writhed on top of the normally gray horse, who, unbeknownst to them, was also gettin' off on the whole thang, and was startin' to glow that weird green (that was definitely *not* teal, like Diamond's eyes sometimes turned).

When she realized the horse wasn't movin' any longer, not to mention Dick's dick up against her dainty buttocks, she turned slightly -- creating an amazing sensation from the saddle horn -- "Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh!!!! Diiiiiiiiiccccccckkkkkkkkkk!!!! C'MON! GIDDY-YAP!!!!!!"

Realizin' that "giddy-yappin'" might be his only chance at gettin' off, Dick dug his vermeil conchos that'd been shaped into bee-u-tee-ful yet completely Westernly manly spurs into the ribs of the great Reticula and said, "GIDDY- YAP!"

The horse just stood there, his massive sides heaving. "Aw, c'mon, Reticula!" Diamond spurred verbally and physically. "Look you mangy piecea horse-flesh!" Diamond completely lost his temper, "If'n you don't ante- up an' git to polishin' belt buckles here, I'm a fixin' to dally these danged reins around yer neck, cinch 'em up and throw yer hide into a bone orchard!" he yelled in all sorts of cowboy vernacular that Siberia, an' no one else, coulda unnerstood, had they been around ta hear it. "C'mon, you BAD-ASS HORSE!" Diamond shouted at him, also shaking the reins, and curryin' him out again, doin' one of those thangs cowboys did that the rest of the population didn't understand and that animal rights activists woulda gotten all hot under the collar for him doing.

Siberia chose that moment to turn again, causing her to gasp in intense pleasure as she said, "It *ain't* BAD-ASS, you tortilla-head!" She lost her patience, not to mention her rhythm since Reticula was no longer moving and providing her with those glorious before-now-unknown- feelings-at-least-to-her. And it really pissed her off. "It's BADIOUS!"

"Whut the fuck's 'badious' mean, my Little Honeyed Sopapilla of Pleasure?" Dick asked innocently, blinking his eyelashes (that any saloon girl'd kill to have herself).

"It means 'chestnut,' you moron." Siberia folded her arms while Dick blinked at her.

"*Mah* hair's 'chestnut'; I thought Reticula was more like 'griseous'-colored," Dick responded, stroking his chestnut- colored mustachio, which no one had commented on so far.

"No, remember?" Siberia replied. "He's sometimes that 'celadon' color."

"'Celadon'?" No way. Dick shook his head in denial. "Neon weird-ass glowin' green sometimes. And mebbe sometimes 'crystal'."

"No," Siberia argued. "The textbook definition of 'crystal,' for colors anyways, is ' transparent pearly color,' and, really, that's more like alabaster or porcelain, like my skin. Maybe even 'faience'-colored."

"Nope." Dick crossed his own arms in defense of his position. "'Faience' is commonly asso-see-ated with them ancient E-gyp-shuns and is kinda blue-green, more like ... 'caesious' in color."

"Do you mean 'glaucous'?" Siberia asked, intent on their conversation, and completely forgettin' about his and/or her pleasure, together or separately.

"Nope," Dick said again. "'Glaucous' is just anuther word for 'teal,' an' you KNOW how I hate the word 'teal'." Dick's eyes, and other parts, hardened again in building rage.

"Did *I* say your eyes were 'teal,' huh?" Siberia demanded, her hands on her hips, inadvertently shoving herself more solidly against the saddlehorn, once again ratcheting up her own pleasure. "If anything, right now, they're 'infuscate' in color." She turned her head this way and that, looking deeply into his eyes. "Or, maybe they're 'lovat'," she noted, but would never tell him that 'lovat' meant blue-green, which was almost exactly 'teal', but not really.

Dick's anger deflated, but his manhood didn't. His eyes went all kind of swirly colors, reminding Siberia ever-so- much of a kinda strange ocular Jackson Pollock painting. Well, at least the right one; the left one kinda reminded her of that stupid painting by Salvador Dali -- the one with the melting clocks. "Never did like them abstract are-teests innyways," she mumbled, realizing she and Dick were gettin' kind of abstract themselves with all this talk of color.

"Salvador Dali was a SURREALIST, my Little Hot Tamale of Feminine Wiles," Dick told her, overhearing her comment.

"This whole conversation is surreal," Siberia muttered.

"Well, anyways, we gotta get this horse ta movin', if'n we ever wanna have some fun, my Little Shy Anne of Sin." Dick leaned forward, his dick whispering into her ear.

"Only one thing I know of that'll get a horse like this ta movin' again," Siberia said to him, her cheeks flaming a delicate coquelicot shade. With that, from under her voluminous skirts, petticoat, second layer of petticoats, third, fourth, fifth and sixth layers of petticoats, then her seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth layer of petticoats and so forth and so on, up to, and including, her forty-second layer of petticoats until he had found her hands. She had pushed aside her Victoria's Secret™©® Quilted Underwear in the pattern of the Cathedral Window Quilt, she whipped out a brunneous-colored stick, off the end of which dangled a jacinthe-colored carrot. She hung it out in front of Reticula's nose, hopin' to get him movin' forwards.

"Whar, 'zackly were you hidin' THAT thang, my Little Spicy Pico de Gallo of Lust?" Dick leaned forward again, for no particular reason except to pleasure hisself.

"Oh, I have all sorts of great hidin' places under this skirt, petticoat, second layer of petticoats, third, fourth, fifth and sixth layers of petticoats, then my seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth layer of petticoats and so forth and so on, up to, and including, my forty-second layer of petticoats, including my Victoria's Secret™©® Quilted Underwear in the pattern of the Cathedral Window Quilt."

"Well," Dick observed, "Reticula ain't movin', and I'm *really* tired of talkin' about your skirt, petticoat, second layer of petticoats, third, fourth, fifth and sixth layers of petticoats, then your seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth layer of petticoats and so forth and so on, up to, and including, your forty-second layer of petticoats, which also includes your Victoria's Secret™©® Quilted Underwear in the pattern of the Cathedral Window Quilt."

"YOU are?" Siberia snapped at him, "*I* am the one who has to put 'em on and take 'em off every day. And you oughta try to go to the bathroom with these on!"

"Diamond Dick" *was* gonna ask her if that was why she peed standing up, but at that moment, Reticula reared up and whinnied in fear.

Dick grabbed his reins, and his dick, noting that the whites of Reticula's eyes were large and round. It was a sure sign...

"Oh SHEE-IT!" Dick exclaimed, looking up at the hillsides around them. "It's the damned Los Mohados! We're surrounded!"

"What are 'Los Mohados'?" Siberia whispered in a dramatic, but kinda loud, whisper. All around them stood the Los Mohados -- wearing full Mexican regalia, leather- lined pants, chaparros, bandoleros, double six-guns and big sombreros that just barely covered their cinereous (or gray) skins, their big, melanic-colored eyes not even blinking in the bright, scorching, flavescent-colored sun near Climax.

"It's Mexican for 'The Aliens'," Dick whispered back to her. "You been wantin' to get probed, my Little Habanero Pepper of Hotness? Well, here's yer chance, Siberia! Which is just as well, 'cause I'm a-runnin' outta colors and metaphors for your sexuality."

They watched in horror as Los Mohados slowly made their way down the hills, their extra-long trigger fingers just a- itchin' to draw down on the two hapless people near Climax.

THROBBING ORGAN MUSIC SWELLS AND SWELLS AND SWELLS ...

**Obfusc8er** "Little cinereous men. I thought they were just a myth," said Scully, gasping in rhythmic and increasing frequency.

**Anubis** "Nope," Dick said back to her, his chestnut- colored mustachio not the only thing wilting in fear, "It's the little chlorochrous men that are the myth; the little cinereous men are the *real deal.*"

Los Cinerious Mohaditos (which translated loosely, and with a whole lotta Western leeway, means "Little Cinerious Men"), like flies on a cow turd, were still slowly approaching ...

THROBBING ORGAN MUSIC CONTINUES TO SWELL AND SWELL AND SWELL ...

**audu2** ANUBIS, keep yer mitts off mah swelling organ music! it's the one contribution I can make to this epic opus. I need to be able to contribute!!!

THROBBING ORGAN MUSIC CONTINUES TO SWELL AND SWELL AND SWELL ...
(IT'S ALSO PULSATING NOW TOO!...kind of like a cha cha beat....and strangely hypnoticccc........)

**siggy** The band of strange Mexicans looked up at the couple on the horse. "Ola, Muchachos. Buenos tardes."

"Buenos tardes, yourselves. Could I ask that y'all speak English? I've a feelin' that the author might have exhausted her knowledge of Spanish," Dick said

"Aieee those bloody eeeenglish never bother to learn other languages. I spit on them." Which he did.

::Author pops out for a tissue to wipe her face::

"We know who you are," the small alien, said to Dick. "You are 'Diamond Dick', the hardest, meanest honcho West of the Pecos."

"I see my reputation precedes me," Dick said, preening slightly

"No, I think it is your dick that precedes you, señor."

"It sure does," Siberia said, gazing at his jumbo sausage of delight, throbbing gently in the early evening sunshine. (The jumbo sausage of delight, not Siberia.)

"Señor Dick we need your help. A grande bastardo called Mayor Spender and an evil embroidery loving nun are doing terrible things to us."

"What sort of terrible things?" Dick asked

"Well, for a start they make us listen to mariachi music day and night, and we have to wear these ridiculous chaps which chafe our little gray skins, but, worst of all, they have stolen our means of escape from this planet. Please señor, will you help us?"

"Oh, Dick, who could resist those great big eyes? We must help them," Siberia said, squirming a little at the thought that the damn horse might get moving again.

"We were on our way to see the Mayor anyway, so I guess it would be okay," Dick said reluctantly as the prospect of getting to see Siberia's secret womanly regions receded into the distance.

"Gracias señor, you make us very happy," The Mexican alien said.

"Hi ho, Reticula, away!" Dick shouted in a dramatic fashion, and off they sped.

The band of Mexican aliens watched as Dick and Siberia disappeared into the distance, until all they could hear was the excited cries of Siberia yelling, "Ooooooooh faster, Dick, Faaaaaaasteeeeeeer."

"What a man." They sighed as one.

Back in the saloon, Mayor Spender and the Mother Superior were enjoying a post-spanking cigarette. Diana, meanwhile, was smiling in a sickeningly sated way as she gently rubbed her crimson buttocks. Over in the corner, Sheriff Skinner and Ringo Langly were whispering post- coital sweet nothings to each other. Whilst Byers and Frohike tried to lean casually against the smoldering bar. All eyes flew to the door as it opened with a crash.

"Mayor Spender, I've come fer my sister." "Diamond Dick" strode in to the saloon, his towering manhood taut and throbbing with purpose. Behind him, Siberia sashayed seductively, sighing in a satisfied way.

::Author pauses for a second, exhausted by the overuse of alliteration.::

"Why are you walking like that?" the Sheriff asked. "Do you have some sort of bladder problem?"

"Oh, good grief," sighed Siberia.

"Like I said," snarled Dick with intense, unresolved sexual tension, "I've come fer my sister, you cigarette-smoking bastard."

Suddenly, the Mother Superior stepped forward, her smug gaze falling on the seething Dick. "You fool, Dick. Don't you realize?" She ripped her wimple from her head and tossed her long chestnut curls derisively. "*I* am your sister!"

**audu2** the organ music throbbed and pulsated. and grew in intensity. BIGGER and BIGGER.....MORE and MORE...ever increasing. ever expanding!

**Obfusc8er** The throbbing, pulsating organ music dramatically paused, during which time everyone searched the saloon, dumbfounded, trying to find its source. "Diamond Dick" was especially interested in finding the mysterious and skilled "organ player". However, the hunt was interrupted by the entrance of Los Cinerious Mohaditos.

"Buenos Nachos," they announced. "We may be small and we may not have genitals, but we will not allow you to intimidate us any longer, Señor Spender. We're mad as hell, and we're not going to take it any more! Sheriff, please handcuff him."

Skinner patted his sizable belt, looking for the handcuffs.

"Darn it, where are those things>" he muttered, tossing aside a leash, a whip, a hand-cranked vibrator (because there weren't any batteries quite yet), a branding iron, and an old copy of the Cowpokes August centerfold before finding the handcuffs. He slapped them on Spender and shoved the man toward the aliens.

"Good riddance."

"You may have taken our homing device," said one of the little gray, I mean, cinereous men to Spender, "but you forgot to take our probes."

Spender whimpered and whined as the group dragged him to the door. They stopped there and turned around, addressing Mother Superior/Mulder's sister.

"Hey, Frank. C'mon. Quit pulling 'Diamond Dick's' leg. It ain't nice, and he can hardly walk as it is."

Mother Superior/Mulder's sister laughed as her face morphed into that of yet another little gray--darn it-- cinereous man. The alien stooped to reclaim the aforementioned wimple, because one never knows when one might need a wimple, and joined the others as they left the saloon.

Meanwhile, all of these sudden revelations made "Diamond Dick's" eyes flicker between various colors so quickly, they got stuck on plaid for a moment. But then Siberia sensed his inner turmoil and rushed to him. She stifled his confusion with an oral exam, pressing her decidedly un-chastity-belted nether parts (which were still nonetheless protected by 42 layers of petticoats, a slip, chemise, pettipants, garters and stockings, fishnet hose, leg warmers, socks with rainbow toes in them, and Victoria's Secret quilted underwear--which were no long much of a secret at all--in the pattern of the Cathedral Window Quilt) against his outer turmoil in the process. His eyes settled on a nice cerulean blue, which happened to be the exact same color as his balls.

At that point, "Diamond Dick's" dick was so huge, it was wearing its own cowboy hat.

Manip by Obfusc8er

What it turned out to be was a hat kinda like that big hat that Hoss Cartwright used to wear on the silly television western, "Bonanza," except it weren't nearly big enough to cover Dick's manhood.

It was a 50 Gallon Black Vertical Resistol ('cause it needed to resist puncture by his "Diamond Dick" an' it was black a-cause "Diamond Dick" was, after all, a outlaw, and he was mee-ee-een 'n nasty; he was mee-ee-een 'n nasty, just like in th' ""Diamond Dick Mulder" Themesong at th' beginnin' of this travesty ... er ... I mean epic missive) Hat that was so gall-durned tall that Dick couldn't even see around it innymore (but it shore did look purty with Siberia's 42 layers of petticoats, a slip, chemise, pettipants, garters and stockings, fishnet hose, leg warmers, socks with rainbow toes in them, and Victoria's Secret™©® Quilted underwear--which were no long much of a secret at all--in the pattern of the Cathedral Window Quilt around it both as a hatband and ta keep it on his manly tower).

"Well, shee-ee-fuck-it-all-ta-hell-it," Dick enunciated carefully in Texas vernacularized frustration, which made a manly man pronounciate a single syllable word more like it had 7 or 8 syllables.

With a huff, he put his hands on his up-til-now- undiscussed slim-but-sexy-an'-manly hips, 'cause he knew he'd never mount Reticula -- or Siberia, for that matter -- with a 50 Gallon Black Vertical Resistol Hat on his throbbin' manhood.

**emily sim** "STOP. JUST EVERYBODY - STOP." Siberia's voice was exceedingly loud for one so tiny as herself. She waved her smooth, velvet, pale arms in the air, her tiny, dainty fingers waving in the wind.

The throbbing and pulsating organ music slid to a screeching halt, the grays, somewhat confused, returned to their human forms and Diamond, who was just about to take matters into his own hands, stopped, his mouth slightly open, his eyes now a slightly darker shade of brown he was so surprised.

"Enough. I've had enough." Her two perfectly-shaped orbs were once again heaving and her pale, velvety- smooth, alabaster skin was flushed. "This is the most fucking ridiculous thing I've ever been through."

There were gasps all around at Siberia's use of language.

"Siberia, honey bunch -- " Diamond finally got his voice back and began to speak. He used his very best soothing voice, not the one he used when he was talking to his buddies, but the one he saved for small animals and children, when he was trying to calm them down. It had sort of a low sound to it, like honey. The only problem was --

"Don't you honey bunch me you - you - you dickless dick Diamond dick." She humped quite a bit while she said that.

"Gosh, durn, what tha' hall -- "

"And just STOP with the fucking vernacular."

Diamond was once more, again, stunned into silence. This time his mouth hung so open he could have caught flies with it.

In the distance, a steady thrumming could be heard. Everyone watched as Siberia's dainty little tiny ear seemed to move all on it's own in the direction of the sound. Everyone watched her perfect rosebud lips pulled into a pretty, sweet little smile.

The Organ Grinder came out from behind the outhouse, wondering why things were still at a standstill. She caught sight of Diamond and flashed him a seductive smile. It was a knowing smile. As if she and she alone knew the real story.

Diamond's mouth finally shut and he smiled back. He even winked, his eyes turning a little more green than brown with the action.

In the meantime, the sound that had Siberia's ears so interested was louder, and Siberia was --

Oh my --

Siberia was pulling off her skirt and petticoat, second layer of petticoats, third, fourth, fifth and sixth layers of petticoats, then her seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth layer of petticoats and so forth and so on, up to, and including, her forty-second layer of petticoats until she was down to her Victoria's Secret™©® Quilted Underwear in the pattern of the Cathedral Window Quilt.

They were all watching in stunned amazement as the thrumming sound, which had been getting louder and louder materialized. It was a motorcycle. It wasn't just any motorcycle. It was a Chief Indian™©® Motorcycle with the powerful 163.8 cc 45 degree Powerplus™ V twin engine. It had studded leather saddle bags with nice long fringes. Siberia smiled up at the dark, mysterious man sitting atop the lovely black and chrome machine.

The dark, mysterious man pulled off his goggles. He smiled, a smooth, sexy smile that seemed to go straight to Siberia's womanly regions hidden behind her Victoria's Secret™©® Quilted Underwear in the pattern of the Cathedral Window Quilt.

He was dark, and mysterious. Siberia worked faster to get rid of the offending petticoats. His eyes were blazing and they remained a steady deep brown, which was wonderful for everyone. Dick's changing eyes were getting everyone -- and if she was honest, herself as well, despite how lovely his thick, long, throbbing manhood was -- a little seasick. The mysterious stranger's long, muscular legs were encased in skin tight leather -- lambskin she guessed -- she knew her leathers, and she liked lambskin. It was soft and supple, and allowed one to buy a whole size smaller because it molded itself to ones skin. She licked her lips, in a seductive, sexy way and the mysterious stranger hefted himself off his bike and moved towards her.

"Siberia?"

"Yes." It was a breathy, low, sotto voice sort of sound. "Do I know you?"

The dark, mysterious, black-leather-clad stranger smiled a feral smile."

The Organ Grinder smiled a sly, knowing smile.

Dick was frowning. His sexy pouty bottom lip was turned down.

"Muffin." The dark mysterious stranger clad in black said.

"Poopsey?"

"Yes, my Babycakes Muffin. It's me."

Finally free of all her petticoats, Siberia launched herself into the arms of the dark mysterious Poopsey, all clad in black. She was squealing, sort of like a pig, but in delight.

Diamond's sexy pouty bottom lip was pulled straight in an angry sneer. And his throbbing, large, thick, pulsating manhood had deflated once again. He noticed, however, that the dark, mysterious Poopsey's was pushing against the soft supple lambskin. He was a man after all, and he noticed these things.

The Organ Grinder was nodding and smiling a knowing smile.

Everyone else had retired to the burned-out saloon, looking for something to drink.

"I thought I'd never see you again, Poopsey Woopsey."

"Ah, Babycakes, Muffin. I told you I'd come back for you."

Diamond found his voice again. "What the dang hall -- "

"STOP with the fucking vernacular!" The chorus of voices seemed to come from somewhere else. Like there was a whole bunch of people hearing him from all over the world, in all different time zones.

**Pghfoxfan**::---------refills bowl of popcorn...grabs new batteries ;)::

**emily sim** In the meantime -- Siberia was plastered to the dark, mysterious, leather-clad Poopsey Woopsey. Actually, she wasn't just plastered to him, her pale, velvety, smooth alabaster thighs were wrapped tightly around him and she was desperately trying to rub her secret womanly regions, hidden behind her Victoria's Secret™©® Quilted Underwear in the pattern of the Cathedral Window Quilt, against his obviously large bulge of manhood encased in velvety-smooth lambskin leather. She was so tightly wound on him that the dark, mysterious, leather- clad Poopsey Woopsey was able to use his large, rough, man-hands to caress her throbbing globes, bringing her pale pink nipples to diamond-hard points beneath the tight bodice.

Siberia moaned in ecstasy. She had been waiting so looooooonnnnnngggggg. It had been pages and pages and she was tired of the stupid voluminous skirts, petticoat, second layer of petticoats, third, fourth, fifth and sixth layers of petticoats, then her seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth layer of petticoats and so forth and so on, up to, and including, her forty-second layer of petticoats she had to keep putting on and taking off. She wasn't putting them on again. She wanted to stay forever plastered against her very own dark, mysterious, leather-clad Poopsey Woopsey.

"Babycakes, Muffin. You need to loose those Victoria's Secret™©® Quilted Underwear in the pattern of the Cathedral Window Quilt."

"Oh yes...Poopsey Woopsey. I've been waiting for pages and pages."

There was a collective sigh which seemed to come from all over the world.

The dark, mysterious, leather-clad Poopsey Woopsey let go of her pulsating, pale, slightly-flushed orbs and allowed her to slide down his hard body and his hard, bulging throbbing hunk of manhood. Then he gingerly placed her atop his Chief Indian™©® Motorcycle with the powerful 163.8 cc 45 degree Powerplus™ V twin engine. He turned to face Diamond, who was standing forlornly, shoulders tragically bowed, pouty bottom lip curled down in sad defeat, and the Organ Grinder, who was standing confidently, a knowing smile curling her luscious ruby red lips. He spoke loudly, as if he was addressing a whole lot of other people besides the two in front of him.

"I know you've all been waiting for some sort of consummation. I'm really sorry to do this to you Diamond." The dark, mysterious, leather-clad Poopsey Woopsey pulled his helmet off and along with it -- his face? The dark, mysterious, leather-clad Poopsey Woopsey's face came off -- it was a mask!!! And underneath the mask --

"Krycek?!!!!!" Diamond was boiling with anger. "YOU!!!!!"

The dark mysterious leather-clad Poopsey Woopsey smiled a feral smile. His laugh was a wicked, evil thing. He pulled a leather glove off exposing his prosthetic limb for Diamond to see. Diamond watched as the other man turned to mount the motorcycle.

"NOOOOOOOO. This is not happening!" Diamond's wail was loud, long and plaintive. He began thrashing his arms, wailing louder and louder and --

"What the fuck?"

It was dark, he was covered in sweat. He was sticking to --

Shit. He bolted upright, feet hitting the floor in one smooth motion. Where the fuck --

"Mulder?"

"Scully?"

"Mulder, you're okay. Here, sit back down." She pushed him back onto his leather couch.

"Scully, what day is it?"

"It's early Monday morning."

"Monday?"

"Mulder, I stayed last night because you weren't feeling well."

He groaned as he leaned back. "Oh Scully, you wouldn't believe the dream I just had."

"I just might. You were making a whole lot of noise out here."

"I'm sorry. I woke you, didn't I?"

"It's okay, Mulder. Was it Samantha?"

"No, not this time. It was -- " he rubbed his eyes. "Shit, it was a fucking nightmare."

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

The last image he had was of Scully/Siberia atop a sleek motorcycle -- an Indian motorcycle -- and Krycek getting ready to -- he groaned. "I don't think so."

"You sure? Sometimes it helps to talk about it."

"Maybe some other time, okay?"

"Okay. Can I get you anything? A glass of water?"

"That'd be great." He watched her move away from him, the dream image of Siberia's heaving bosom and real-life Scully's tight ass covered in -- shit.

Those underwear had haunted his dreams.

Scully's cute little ass was hidden by a pair of Victoria's Secret™©® Quilted Underwear in the pattern of the Cathedral Window Quilt.

She turned just before she disappeared into the kitchen. "Oh, and Diamond, did you really think I'd let you get off that easily? Go get cleaned up, stud muffin. I have plans for you."

THE END......

What? You thought you were going to get to watch? *evil laugh*

Cue music......Aud - you're on......

**Anubis** EPILOGUE:

Meanwhile, back in the remnants of Mulder's nightmare:

Sighin' in abject frustration after pages and pages and pages of denied pleasure as he watched purty darn near everyone wink out of existence, what with this thang turnin' out to be a gall-durned dream 'n all, "Diamond Dick" Mulder did the only manly thing left to him.

Grabbin' the Organ Grinder, he dragged the hapless woman behind the outhouse in Climax and promptly began to spank the monkey.

**audu2** ya know...there's nothing I like better than an appreciative audience. but all things MUST come to an end. and so dear readers, with that in mind..... the organ sounds grow...increase...pulsate......

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spank.diamonds.monkey @ gmail.com

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