[fill] The Properties of Flesh; NC-17 2/?
anonymous
March 27 2011, 00:39:30 UTC
"You may begin," the Gaussian encouraged from the side of the platform. Jim felt the irrational sense that this should be done in private. Jim drew back the flogger, but the Gaussian's voice made him freeze once more. "If you do not draw blood, I will be forced to take over."
Jim grit his teeth, body trembling with effort of holding himself. His eyes were fixed on Bones' back. The smooth, unmarked skin shifting over fluid muscle, warmed by the sun. Bones shifted, trying to get comfortable.
"Jim!"
Jim whirled at his given name issuing from the pilot's lips. Sulu arched against the strangehold the Gaussian wrapped around his throat. "Paced strokes! Along the shoulder blades!" His voice choked off, the Gaussian tightening his grip to silence him. Paced strokes.
Jim took a deep breath. He drew the flogger back once more. "Many are my names in many countries." At the last word he flung the lash forward, feeling the impact echo up his arm as the strands of leather slapped Bones' back. The doctor flinched, tensing in his bonds, and cast an eye over his shoulder to Jim. Jim resolutely did not look at his face, and stared at the red welts already swelling against skin.
"Mithrandir among the Elves." Jim threw his arm forward again, and a murmur rose from the Gaussian delegation at the sight of blood slipping down Bones' back. Bones' head disappeared into his shoulder, his muscles flexing as his body started to shake. "Tharkûn to the Dwarves," Jim ground out as he let another slap fall against Bones' back. He barely heard Bones' choked grunt of pain over his own pounding heart.
"Olórin I was in my youth in the West that is forgotten." Jim swung out again, the last syllable coinciding with the lash biting into Bones' back. Bones let out a keening moan around the gag, but as Jim started the next line, his voice was joined by Bones' rasping murmur. "In the south Incánus." Another blow. "In the North Gandalf." Another.
"To the East I go not." Jim threw the last blow and stepped back, his arm throbbing from the sensation of the lash landing across Bones' flesh. A Gaussian stepped forward to take the flogger from his hand as two moved to untie Bones from the stake. He flopped loosely into their arms, unconscious. Jim swallowed hard to keep his stomach in line as the Gaussians offered Bones to him.
Jim held out his arms and staggered under Bones' weight. He would have dropped the doctor, but another pair of hands gathered under his own, holding him. Jim glanced up sharply to see Sulu, bleeding from a split lip, helping hold Bones. There was so much blood. It slipped along Jim's hands, warm and slick, making it hard to keep his grip.
"It's all right, sir," Sulu murmured, turning his head to check Bones' pulse. Jim saw a bruise rising around his eye.
"We believe your officer has been properly disciplined. We will give you the allotted time in order to treat his wounds, and then we will resume negotiations. I hope he will be in attendance to show that he has learned his lesson." The leader of the Gaussian delegation stood over them, carefully keeping his robes away from the blood spreading at Jim's feet. Jim nodded tersely, keeping his lips pressed tightly and his jaw clenched shut against the waves of nausea flooding through him.
"Sir," Sulu urged. "Sir, you did well, but we need to get him to MedBay." Jim looked at his pilot, whose sleeves were steadily getting soaked in blood- Bones' blood- and nodded. Together, and with the rest of their newly-freed landing party, they beamed back aboard the Enterprise. Chapel and M'Benga immediately took Bones from him, and Jim tried to hold on, but Sulu and Chekov pulled his fingers away. "He'll be all right. He'll be all right," Sulu murmured. Strong fingers curled around his arm and hauled him to his feet. He let himself be led, stumbling, through the corridors. He was in shock, he dimly realised. He. The one who had delivered the beating...
Jim grit his teeth, body trembling with effort of holding himself. His eyes were fixed on Bones' back. The smooth, unmarked skin shifting over fluid muscle, warmed by the sun. Bones shifted, trying to get comfortable.
"Jim!"
Jim whirled at his given name issuing from the pilot's lips. Sulu arched against the strangehold the Gaussian wrapped around his throat. "Paced strokes! Along the shoulder blades!" His voice choked off, the Gaussian tightening his grip to silence him. Paced strokes.
Jim took a deep breath. He drew the flogger back once more. "Many are my names in many countries." At the last word he flung the lash forward, feeling the impact echo up his arm as the strands of leather slapped Bones' back. The doctor flinched, tensing in his bonds, and cast an eye over his shoulder to Jim. Jim resolutely did not look at his face, and stared at the red welts already swelling against skin.
"Mithrandir among the Elves." Jim threw his arm forward again, and a murmur rose from the Gaussian delegation at the sight of blood slipping down Bones' back. Bones' head disappeared into his shoulder, his muscles flexing as his body started to shake. "Tharkûn to the Dwarves," Jim ground out as he let another slap fall against Bones' back. He barely heard Bones' choked grunt of pain over his own pounding heart.
"Olórin I was in my youth in the West that is forgotten." Jim swung out again, the last syllable coinciding with the lash biting into Bones' back. Bones let out a keening moan around the gag, but as Jim started the next line, his voice was joined by Bones' rasping murmur. "In the south Incánus." Another blow. "In the North Gandalf." Another.
"To the East I go not." Jim threw the last blow and stepped back, his arm throbbing from the sensation of the lash landing across Bones' flesh. A Gaussian stepped forward to take the flogger from his hand as two moved to untie Bones from the stake. He flopped loosely into their arms, unconscious. Jim swallowed hard to keep his stomach in line as the Gaussians offered Bones to him.
Jim held out his arms and staggered under Bones' weight. He would have dropped the doctor, but another pair of hands gathered under his own, holding him. Jim glanced up sharply to see Sulu, bleeding from a split lip, helping hold Bones. There was so much blood. It slipped along Jim's hands, warm and slick, making it hard to keep his grip.
"It's all right, sir," Sulu murmured, turning his head to check Bones' pulse. Jim saw a bruise rising around his eye.
"We believe your officer has been properly disciplined. We will give you the allotted time in order to treat his wounds, and then we will resume negotiations. I hope he will be in attendance to show that he has learned his lesson." The leader of the Gaussian delegation stood over them, carefully keeping his robes away from the blood spreading at Jim's feet. Jim nodded tersely, keeping his lips pressed tightly and his jaw clenched shut against the waves of nausea flooding through him.
"Sir," Sulu urged. "Sir, you did well, but we need to get him to MedBay." Jim looked at his pilot, whose sleeves were steadily getting soaked in blood- Bones' blood- and nodded. Together, and with the rest of their newly-freed landing party, they beamed back aboard the Enterprise. Chapel and M'Benga immediately took Bones from him, and Jim tried to hold on, but Sulu and Chekov pulled his fingers away. "He'll be all right. He'll be all right," Sulu murmured. Strong fingers curled around his arm and hauled him to his feet. He let himself be led, stumbling, through the corridors. He was in shock, he dimly realised. He. The one who had delivered the beating...
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