"Victory, Gul Garak," Primek hailed him casually. "So, I see." Garak looked at the Cardassians around him. "When do Dr. Bashir and I leave for Cardassia Prime?" "In twelve hours." Primek handed him a garment case. "So you will be properly attired. You may change here, if you wish." "I thank you." Garak began to pull off his clothes, knowing that Primek wanted to see his transformation from disgraced exile to Gul so as to be sure of his sincerity. "And Dr. Bashir is where?" he asked, rolling his shoulders in the familiar uniform. "In a holding cell." "Unharmed?" "I am told there is a bruise or two; he put up a fight." "The others?" "Dead. Shall I have Bashir delivered to your quarters." "Please." Garak stopped by the infirmary for a medical kit just in case the 'bruise or two' was more serious than he'd been told. He arrived at his quarters to find two Cardassians with Bashir, with his hands tied behind his back and blindfolded, waiting for him. Silently dismissing the guards, he guided Bashir into his bedroom. "How badly are you hurt?" he asked quietly. "Garak?" "Yes." "Untie me! The Cardassians have retaken the station, we've got to..." Garak pulled the blindfold from Bashir's eyes. "We've got to do what, Julian?" Even in the dim light of Garak's bedroom, Bashir could see the Gul uniform. "You betrayed us, didn't you!" "Of course." Garak shoved him onto the bed. "But I have spared you," he said, straddling the struggling human and slapping him a few times to quiet him. "There, that's better." He bent to kiss him but Bashir spat in his face. "Really, Julian, I thought you wouldn't resort to cheap theatricality." He cuffed him a few times to express his displeasure. "Now, are you going to behave?" Garak raised his hand again. "Maybe," Bashir said quietly. "You begin to see reason, my dear." Garak pulled open the jumpsuit closure and pushed it down as far as the doctor's bound arms would allow, ripping the undershirt off. "Understand, Julian, this is Terok Nor again and full of Cardassians who'd be very happy to be in my position right now." He rolled Bashir over and untied his hands, pulling the sleeves of the jumpsuit free of them. "I'm sure that wouldn't appeal to you. You have more discrimination than..." The blow to his midsection was fast and hard and knocked him off Bashir. The Cardassian rolled to recover but the doctor was half way to the door before he was on his feet again. Racing after his half naked 'prize', Garak was pleased to note that the Cardassians had already deleted all the Starfleet override commands. He watched Bashir turn to fight; 'Poor thing,' he thought, 'don't they teach them anything at Starfleet? Like how to surrender gracefully?' Garak moved closer but stayed out of striking range. He knew that the Starfleet Academy did teach its officers the vulnerable parts of Cardassian anatomy. "How gallantly futile this is, Julian," he purred. "Fighting for your virtue when all else is lost. Wouldn't it be so much simpler for you to give yourself to me? And so much less painful, for you, as well." "Is this why you betrayed the station?" Bashir demanded. "To get me? Like this?" "It was a factor in my decision, yes," Garak lied, hoping a guilt-stricken doctor might be easier to manipulate. "We trusted you, Garak..." "Trusted me or just got used to me?" "Trusted. You were helping us..." "Was I?" Bashir looked uncertain for a moment but kept his guard up. "Where are the others?" "Dead, I assume." "All of them?" "Yes, all of them." "Ziyal, Jake, Molly, Ezri, Nog..." "Perhaps Nog survived. I saw Quark today, he didn't seem to be grieving." Garak watched Bashir start to shake and asked him if he was cold. For an answer, the human lunged for his throat. It was what Garak had been waiting for and he struck Bashir to the floor with sharp blow to his solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him. The doctor rolled at his feet, trying to recover. Garak had spent some time studying the vulnerabilities of human anatomy. Pinning Bashir to the floor, he sought out the pressure points and nerve bundles he'd so avidly studied. The points in Bashir's arms seemed especially sensitive, more so than those in his back. The rest of the jumpsuit was removed and Garak found the most painful points in the doctor's thighs and groin. But the most effective point was on the human's perineum, just behind his testicles. The right amount of pressure there caused Bashir to writhe in agony "How sad," he murmured, raining painful but not damaging blows on Bashir's lower back. "You might have gotten so much more pleasure from my touch had you been more cooperative." "If you're going to kill me, get on with it," Bashir grated. "Oh, Julian, killing you is the last thing on my mind." Garak hauled him into the bedroom and threw him on the bed. "Roll over." "No." Garak leapt on the human, slapped him and struck him about the chest and ribs, hard enough to leave bruises but not to do any irreparable damage, until Bashir went limp beneath him. "Surrender is much less painful, Julian," Garak warned, reaching for the wrist restraints and rolling Bashir over. "Garak," Bashir panted. "How can you do this after all these years?" "How can I *not* do this after all these years of wanting you?" Garak asked, tying the human's hands behind him. "Julian, what a little idiot you are. You denied me your body, which is all I wanted and offered me your friendship, for which I have no use. But, no matter, I have you now. Let's leave the past behind us." He reached into the bedside table and began to rummage around. "Now where did I put it?" he muttered. "What if I had become your lover?" "I refuse to answer hypothetical questions. Ah! There you are," Garak said, removing a tube of lubricant from the drawer. "Garak..." "Yes, Julian?" "I don't want to do this." "I shall remember that." Garak began to slip lube into him. He administered a set of hard slaps to Bashir's ass to make him stop squirming. "Have you done this before?" "No." "I will try to make it as painless as possible. I do want you to learn to like it." "Why?" Garak leaned down to kiss the doctor's cheek. "Because I intend to keep you with me for as long as you amuse me." Leaning back, he unfastened his trousers and eased his cock out. He centered it against the human's anus but paused to push Bashir back down on the bed. "Shhhh, relax, this would be a terrible time to resist, such delicate skin and muscle here," he cautioned as he pressed against the virgin ring. Bashir was stretched, lubed, exhausted, in pain, bound and unable to resist so Garak was able to insert the head after a few thrusts. Considerately and carefully, he worked his cock into the sobbing doctor. "There," he rasped when he hit bottom. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" He pulled Bashir's head up by his hair. "Was it?" he growled. "Get on with it," Bashir hissed. "At least one of us will enjoy it," Garak said quietly as he began to fuck him in short thrusts. He'd waited so long for this and it was everything he'd hoped it would be. Sliding his cock in and out of the conquered Bashir, he came gently and leaned his weight on the human's back. He inhaled the scent rising from the warm skin beneath him and bent down to bite the nape of the doctor's neck, just hard enough to break the skin. He felt Bashir shudder but not resist. His cock slipped out, he noticed some blood but nothing alarming, and wiped it on the remains of the lavender undershirt. "Will you untie me?" "Perhaps." "Please." Garak graciously untied him. The doctor still seemed defiant to him but plainly exhausted. It occurred to the Cardassian that Bashir would need more beatings before he understood his new place in the universe, which was primarily in Garak's bed. Two or three more beatings, he thought, would do it. But there was kindness and rewards, too. And as he watched the human fall asleep, Garak thought, if Bashir pleased him, he'd give him his copy of _Rishi Baba_ to read on the transport to Cardassia Prime. Bashir had been enjoying the novel and the exhortation to surrender to whatever reality one finds oneself in would be edifying for the human in his new life. ***end*** Back to the Start