A Matter of Control (2/2)
Title: A Matter of Control (2/2)
Author: Rowen
Fandom: Babylon 5
Rating: R
Spoilers: This story contains spoilers for the fourth season episode "Whatever Happened to Mr. Garibaldi?"
Synopsis: Nasty things occur to Mr Garibaldi after he was abducted from Babylon 5.
Pairing: --
Genre: Adult
Disclaimer: Babylon 5 belongs to JMS etc, not me
Notes: If you're not of appropriate age in your district, go away now.
Many thanks to Alta for beta reading this one.
This story was written just after "Whatever Happened to Mr. Garibaldi?" first aired and was speculation on what might have happened.
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Part 2
"Talia." Garibaldi didn't mean to speak the name out loud, but his ears registered his unbelieving whisper as if it belonged to a stranger.
"Not exactly, Mr. Garibaldi, but I applaud your deductive reasoning." Her voice was low; sultry. Her breath sending shivers across his bare skin. He flinched a little as he felt her fingernail trace down his unshaven jaw. No, not Talia. Not any more. Not since Lyta Alexander had sent the secret password into her mind, forever destroying the woman Talia had been and leaving only the Psi-Corps Control personality.
"You always were smarter than you looked." The hand withdrew, leaving him missing the touch. He had been alone in the dark too long without the touch of another living person.
"So what now?" he asked, then a thought struck him. Fingernails. That meant her hands were ungloved... Touching him would amplify her telepathic reading of him. Without the Psi-Corps rules that had constrained Talia, he was sure she was scanning him. And that made his blood run cold: he knew too much. Oh shit, oh shit...
"I see you understand your predicament, Mr. Garibaldi." The velvety voice caressed his ears, even as the words sent a shiver of dread though him.
"So your masters are using you to drain me of the information you're all looking for." The tone was brave, but in his mind he was reciting nursery rhymes: that was a trick rumored to block scans. It would never work on a high-level talent, but Talia was... had been only a P5.
The baton hit his ribs again.
'Mary had a little lamb...'
"This is only going to get as unpleasant as you choose to make it, Mr. Garibaldi." God, that voice... It was like cartoons, chocolate and sex all rolled into one. Unbidden, an image of Talia flowed into his mind - her slate-gray eyes wide, cheeks flushed, soft blond hair strewn across the pillows as her naked body writhed under his...
Another blow across his buttocks. He'd almost forgotten his fantasies were not entirely private.
"While I'm... flattered at the image, Mr. Garibaldi, I really think you should keep your mind on the topic." Her breath was warm and moist against the back of his neck.
"And what topic was that, Ms. Winters?" 'It's fleece was white as snow...' "Or should I call you 'Control'?" 'And everywhere that Mary went...'
"Talia will do," she purred, moving back around him and trailing the butt of the strop across his stomach as she went. "After all, even though she's gone... it's still her body. A body you seem to find... attractive." She pressed up against him, taking his earlobe between her lips and sucking on it.
'And everywhere that Mary went, the lamb was sure to go,' he recited desperately, as warmth spread through his body.
"You know I found Talia attractive." It was a desperate gamble, but his only defense. "But I'm not too sure I like the person in there at the moment - she doesn't appear to be housebroken."
Talia stepped away, and the whistle of the descending lash filled the chamber. Garibaldi's head spun back as it connected hard with his cheek bone, and he tasted blood in his mouth where it had split his lip open.
"In your situation, you should use better manners, Mr. Garibaldi," she warned, he fingers wiping the trickle of blood from his face. He could imaging her putting the finger to her lips and licking it clean.
"I will be back in a little while," she continued. "I expect to find you more... amenable then. Otherwise, the consequences could be... unpleasant."
--------------------------
As soon as he heard the door re-open, the nursery rhymes began again in his head.
'Old King Cole was a Merry Old Soul...'
"I hope you have considered your options thoroughly, Mr. Garibaldi. I would hate for this to be more unpleasant than it has to be."
'What would you know about unpleasant, you Psi-Corps bitch?' He didn't need to say it out loud: the sound of her indrawn breath told him she'd received the message loud and clear.
"You play a dangerous game, Mr. Garibaldi," she said, swiftly crossing the room. He prepared himself for a blow, but instead she tangled her fingers in the hair covering his groin and yanked. Hard.
He screamed.
"I told you there would be consequences, Michael," she hissed. "That was only a little taste of what could happen. Now, I suggest you cooperate."
She released him, and he sagged, his weight supported by his numb arms.
"All right." He could picture her straightening her hair. "My employers wish to know what you remember after you left Babylon 5."
"Nothing."
"Michael." Her hand closed around his balls and she gave them a warning squeeze.
"You *know* I'm telling the truth," he spat. "I remember *nothing* after leaving Babylon 5."
"Hmmm." She seemed to be pondering the matter. "Yes, I believe *you* believe you're telling the truth. But the mind stores all sorts of little details it doesn't always consciously remember as important." She let go of his scrotum, trailing her hand over him. "My employers are... anxious to find out more about the abilities of their allies. Their strengths... their weaknesses."
"So you can get rid of them?" Garibaldi let out a short bark of laughter. "You want to take out the Shadows after they've finished obliterating us and the non-aligned worlds. Your 'employers' must be either madder or stupider than I thought."
The lash struck his pectoral.
"It is a wise person who learns all they can about their allies," she explained smoothly. "They are powerful, yes. But not indestructible. Your friend Captain Sheridan proved that when he destroyed their base."
Garibaldi felt a momentary sense of elation: the plan had worked!
"Oh yes, it worked," Talia confirmed. "Unfortunately the good Captain was also toasted in the process. A feat my associates have no wish to emulate. So I want you to think back to the moment you were taken..."
Her hands pressed solidly against his chest, and he felt the feathery touch of her fingers probing his mind as he remembered...
....The blackness filling the window....
.....Being drawn in....
.....Then....
Nothing.
Nothing more until he awoke wherever he was now.
Talia withdrew.
"Well, it seems you were telling the truth." She sounded as shaky as he felt. The memory left him feeling... tainted. Somehow violated, but he couldn't for the life of him remember why.
Talia was at the table, and he heard a clink then the sound of liquid being poured into a glass. He involuntarily licked his lips, reminded by his parched mouth just how long it had been since he'd had anything to drink.
"You're thirsty."
It wasn't a question, so he didn't bother to reply: she already knew the answer. He was surprised when he felt a glass held to his lips. He gulped greedily as she tilted it, cool water running down his throat both inside and out.
"That's enough for now," she said, abruptly taking it away and placing it on the table. "If you're a good boy and answer all the questions, perhaps I'll get you some more."
"I thought I had answered the questions," he said, licking his lips to get the last bits of moisture. "I don't remember anything about the Shadow ship."
"Oh, but there are other things that you know that may prove very... useful." She was beside him once again.
He said nothing, reciting another nursery rhyme sub-vocally.
"I'm homesick for Babylon 5," she said coyly, wrapping a strand of his chest hair about her finger. "Perhaps you could tell me everything that's been going on there."
"Oh, you know: same old, same old." This line of questioning was *much* more dangerous. Perhaps he could get her mad enough to beat him into unconsciousness, - that way he couldn't answer any questions.
She struck his kneecap with a solid blow and he could almost feel her satisfaction as his leg collapsed and his weight yanked at his arm sockets.
"I can do this all day and night if necessary, Mr. Garibaldi. It's not hurting me in the least. Now. With the unfortunate demise of Captain Sheridan, who will be leading the rebels?"
"Duck Dodgers," he gasped, slowly rebalancing his weight.
This time it was the other kneecap. He screamed.
"You are only making this worse," she warned. "We can always use drugs to get the information."
"Then why don't you?" He struggled back up again. "It would be more efficient."
"Not entirely," Talia disagreed. He could hear her dragging the chair across the floor and set it before him. "You see, when I ask you something, your mind tries hard *not* to think about it. So in trying to hide it, you actually give away more."
From the change in her voice, he could tell she was now sitting.
"Besides," she added, "this is more fun."
"And even though you're a telepath, the pain doesn't bother you?"
"It would have bothered Talia." She leant back in the chair. "But I'm stronger. More focused. To me, it only adds a little... spice to the situation."
'And you get off on it,' he thought.
"Inelegantly put," she agreed with his unvoiced comment, "but essentially correct." She took one of his nipples between her fingers and pinched it a little.
"Now, my *dear friend* Susan is next in line to command the station," she continued, her hands gently caressing his chest, then moving lower to fondle him. "I've seen her record, however. She's an able officer, but has no experience in directing large-scale battles. So who is going to be helping her run your traitorous army?"
"Fuck you!" he growled, trying to pull away from the intimate touch. Her hands ceased their gentle caress.
"You know, that is the first sensible thing you have suggested all day, Mr. Garibaldi."
There was the rustling sounds of clothes being unfastened and dropped to the floor. Suddenly a warm, soft body pressed fully up against his front.
"A *very* good idea," she breathed.
Oh God. Ring a ring a rosie. A pocket full of posy.
"You know, all these nursery rhymes are getting very tedious." Her hair brushed against his chest, a satin swathe against his skin.
"Well, don't listen, then," he suggested, swallowing past dry lips.
She dragged the baton down his chest to lift his cock which was becoming erect despite his best intentions.
Nursery rhymes were out of the question, now. Instead he concentrated on turn-offs: Narn Opera. Londo in a dress. Spoo.
Talia laughed at the vivid imagery.
"Imaginative, Michael." She pulled away, and lay down on the floor in front of him, bracing her feet on his knees. "But imagine this...
"I'm lying on my back naked, on the floor in front of you. My legs are spread apart and I am slowly caressing my breasts. Can you see it, Michael? The rosy pink nipples are hard under my finger-tips and I can feel the gentle touches burn inside me."
Narn Opera. Londo in a tight red dress. Spoo for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Her right foot slid slowly up from his knee along his thigh to massage his groin.
"I don't think you're paying attention, Michael." He could hear the pout in her voice.
"My hands are now lightly running down my sides and across my flat stomach, making my skin tingle with anticipation. Gently, I'm sliding a finger over my clit..." He felt her feet jerk a little. "It feels sooo good."
God, her voice. It was the sexiest thing he'd ever heard. He shook his head, trying unsuccessfully to ignore his hard-on. G'Kar bellowing Narn Opera. Londo in a black lace girdle, thigh-high stockings and stilletoes. Spoo crawling all over a pizza.
"Ohhh... It feels so good. I'm continuing to rub myself. I'm getting wetter and wetter." Her foot stopped massaging his groin, returning to brace against his knee again. "I've got the baton in my other hand... Guess what I'm going to do with it?"
His breathing was unsteady. He knew *exactly* what she was about to do.
"That's right, I'm slowly pushing it into myself." She moaned. "It's sliding in. It feels good - not as good as a big fat cock, but still large and heavy... ohh..."
He could hear it moving in and out and Talia's continuous moaning. In his mind he could picture her: head tossed back, blond hair disarrayed, writhing as she pleasured herself.
"Ohhh... yes... I'm gonna come." She moaned loudly and her feet jerked against his knees. For a moment, the only sound was their rapid breathing - hers a higher counterpoint to his baritone rasp.
"Well, what do you think?"
"Think of what?" he asked as steadily as he could manage. "What do I think of a whore fucking herself on a substitute cock? Not much." His words were in direct contradiction to his highly aroused state. He'd found it a tremendous turn-on... the thought of Talia doing those things to herself.
"A whore?" He heard her climb to her feet: her voice quiet. Dangerous. He wondered if he'd finally managed to push her far enough.
"Yeah. A cheap, Psi-Corps prostitute. I wonder if your masters watching on the monitors were jacking off on your performance."
She didn't bother with the baton this time - her hand lashed out and caught him sharply across the same cheek she'd struck before.
"I think you're trying to provoke me into doing something irrational, Mr. Garibaldi. That is foolish of you. Very, very foolish. I *am* going to get what I want, one way or another."
She was behind him again, now. He tensed, expecting another blow, but her hands merely cupped his ass, squeezing gently; caressing him, then slid her finger between the cheeks gently stroking his anus.
"You don't like men, do you Michael?"
"What do you mean?" Wary. Her hands continued to fondle him.
"I mean you don't screw around with men. That in all likelihood this gorgeous ass of yours has never been violated." She squeezed him more firmly.
He swallowed hard and tried to pull away.
"Relax," she crooned, stroking her cheek against his broad back. "It will only hurt more if you struggle."
He felt something hard nudge his opening.
"Don't worry: it's been well lubricated..."
She pushed and he felt white-hot agony as it began to slide in.
"I do so like a piece of virgin ass," she whispered in his ear, withdrawing the stick a little then pushing it in further. He screamed, trying to expel the object.
"I told you to relax. It will be inside in a moment." She roughly fondled his balls with her free hand.
"Now, back to the topic at hand... Babylon 5." Her breath was warm against his shoulder blades and he whimpered as she continued her manipulations. The pain was beginning to recede and be replaced by pleasure.
"Who will help Ivanova?"
Unbidden, a picture of the War Council flashed through his mind: Delenn, G'Kar, Marcus, Kosh. Dammit! He began repeating his serial number, but Talia's warm hand sliding around his cock made it difficult to concentrate.
"Very interesting. I saw G'Kar and the Vorlon, that Minbari changeling slut and a handsome man I didn't recognize... Why, I thought I knew all the good looking men on Babylon 5."
"With your tastes, I wouldn't be surprised," he grated, trying to retain a grain of self-respect. She withdrew the baton and slid it in again harder. Then again. And again; all the time her hand squeezing his cock. He groaned. It just felt too damn good.
"Who is he?"
'A Ranger,' was in his head before he could censor it.
"Very good. You're getting the hang of this." Talia slid around in front of him on her knees - somehow managing to maintain her hold on the object in his ass - and ran her tongue along his engorged length. "Answers will be rewarded." She took the head in her mouth, swirling her tongue over it. He thrust forward unconsciously, but she pulled away, laughing.
"Not yet. Now, is this man in charge of these Rangers?"
Again, before he could catch it, Delenn's face was in his mind.
"Well, well, well... that is interesting." She took more of him in her mouth, this time dragging her teeth lightly along his length. He bucked, groaning a little, but again she pulled away.
"Our information appears to be correct, then. The rebels aboard Babylon 5 are completely under Minbari influence.... You know," she said in a confidential whisper, "there are all sorts of people who would *kill* to get their hands on the lovely Minbari Ambassador."
"Yeah, I imagine they're pretty fried at her after she forced them to retreat." He was amazed he was still capable of coherent thought.
"Not only for that, but they want her DNA. Want to learn how she managed the transformation from a Minbari to a Minbari/human hybrid. Could you imagine how useful it would be to be able to change people's DNA like that? Our spies would be perfect: we could infiltrate alien governments at the highest levels."
"I don't think the Minbari will share, somehow." He gasped, as she took him in again. God, he was going to come soon.
"We'll see about them sharing," she said, withdrawing before he could climax. "Did she ever say why she changed?"
"Who?" Oh, God, her mouth was so hot...
"The Minbari witch." She slapped him across the buttocks, causing his muscles to clench involuntarily around the shaft. "Pay attention."
"Uhh.. It was to become a bridge of understanding between Humans and Minbari. You must have seen the interview she did with that ISN reporter." He tried to follow her mouth with his cock.
"Yes, that's what she said... but Minbari never tell the whole truth, do they?" She thrust the baton into his ass for emphasis.
"No..." he groaned, squirming at the sensation.
"So why then?"
"Don't know..." He gasped as she squeezed his balls none too gently.
"You can do better than that," she suggested. "Why?"
"Don't know - she's never said anything." He tossed his head back as she tasted his balls; licking them.
"Are you sure?"
He tried to concentrate - he shouldn't be doing this; shouldn't be saying anything, but her tongue on him... Oh God... The only image of Delenn he could conjure up in regards to humans was when Sheridan kissed her hand after she routed the Earth Alliance ships.
"So, the Minbari are in bed with the rebels in more ways than one," Talia purred. "That is *very* interesting." She licked the bead of moisture from the tip of his cock and he jerked violently.
"Now, G'Kar is not a problem - the Narn have been so thoroughly crushed by the Centauri that they have no military aid they can offer. What about the Vorlons?"
"What about them?" He needed to come, needed some sort of contact with his aching cock to allow him to orgasm. But his cock stood erect and isolated from any possible means of release except the woman kneeling in front of him. He thrust forward, as her hot breath caressed him. Please...
"Will they come to the rebels aid?"
'Who?' was his confused thought, his mind totally centered further down his body. Oh. The Vorlons. Not bloody likely. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting, praying for the caress: he couldn't defend his mind when his body was being assaulted with this level of pleasure.
"Well, I think that has been a productive first session, Mr. Garibaldi," Talia said, standing.
"Wait." The word sprang to his lips without conscious thought.
"Why?" She stood close, her belly pressed against his erection and he rubbed up against her desperately. She shifted back, still close enough that he could feel the heat from her skin, but not close enough to touch. "Why?" she repeated.
"Please," a whimper tore from his throat. "Please." God, he had been reduced to begging.
"Please what?"
"Please... I need... Don't leave me like this."
Her finger traced his jaw, then across his lips.
"Very well, Mr. Garibaldi. But only because I like you."
She tucked a leg up over his hip, guiding him inside. Her hand moved the shaft in his ass in time with his frantic thrusts. He groaned at the duel sensations of being engulfed by a hot, tight wetness and the rhythmic movement filling him from behind. It didn't take long. As she claimed his mouth in a savage kiss, he thrust harder and spilled into her even as she clenched and shuddered around him.
Garibaldi slumped, allowing the chains on his arms to momentarily support his weight.
"You know something," she whispered in his ear, reaching behind him and pulling the shaft from his ass. "You're good. I should have fucked you a long time ago."
He heard a soft metallic click and suddenly the restraints around his arm vanished. Bereft of support, he fell to the ground in an uncomfortable heap. He slowly lowered his arms, and screamed with agony as the blood began to flow again. He barely noticed as the leg restraints were also removed.
Tears of pain soaking the blindfold, he lay curled up on his side, unable to do more than whimper.
After a while, he became aware of the fact he had been covered with a blanket.
"I'll be back later with more questions, Mr. Garibaldi." Talia moved to the door.
"What then?" he rasped, not really wanting to know, but having to ask what the outcome would be. He was ashamed that she'd been able to get to him by pushing just the right buttons. If it had been a normal person interrogating him, he might have been able to withstand it. But her fingers had reached into his mind pulling the information out as soon as he thought it. "You'll kill me?" It was unlikely, but he could always hope. Death would mean he wouldn't have to face his friends again, knowing how he'd betrayed them.
Her laughter was as cold as ice.
"Oh no, Mr. Garibaldi, we won't kill you: you're *much* too valuable for that. You see, my exposure left my organization at a severe disadvantage as far as Babylon 5 is concerned. We need another pair of eyes and ears aboard the station. So, after you have been implanted with a control personality, you will be returned to take up your new position as spy amongst the rebels."
The door swished shut behind her, leaving Michael Garibaldi alone in his cell to contemplate the horror of his fate.
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END: A Matter of Control
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author: Rowen
Fandom: Babylon 5
Rating: R
Spoilers: This story contains spoilers for the fourth season episode "Whatever Happened to Mr. Garibaldi?"
Synopsis: Nasty things occur to Mr Garibaldi after he was abducted from Babylon 5.
Pairing: --
Genre: Adult
Disclaimer: Babylon 5 belongs to JMS etc, not me
Notes: If you're not of appropriate age in your district, go away now.
Many thanks to Alta for beta reading this one.
This story was written just after "Whatever Happened to Mr. Garibaldi?" first aired and was speculation on what might have happened.
-----------------------------------------
Part 2
"Talia." Garibaldi didn't mean to speak the name out loud, but his ears registered his unbelieving whisper as if it belonged to a stranger.
"Not exactly, Mr. Garibaldi, but I applaud your deductive reasoning." Her voice was low; sultry. Her breath sending shivers across his bare skin. He flinched a little as he felt her fingernail trace down his unshaven jaw. No, not Talia. Not any more. Not since Lyta Alexander had sent the secret password into her mind, forever destroying the woman Talia had been and leaving only the Psi-Corps Control personality.
"You always were smarter than you looked." The hand withdrew, leaving him missing the touch. He had been alone in the dark too long without the touch of another living person.
"So what now?" he asked, then a thought struck him. Fingernails. That meant her hands were ungloved... Touching him would amplify her telepathic reading of him. Without the Psi-Corps rules that had constrained Talia, he was sure she was scanning him. And that made his blood run cold: he knew too much. Oh shit, oh shit...
"I see you understand your predicament, Mr. Garibaldi." The velvety voice caressed his ears, even as the words sent a shiver of dread though him.
"So your masters are using you to drain me of the information you're all looking for." The tone was brave, but in his mind he was reciting nursery rhymes: that was a trick rumored to block scans. It would never work on a high-level talent, but Talia was... had been only a P5.
The baton hit his ribs again.
'Mary had a little lamb...'
"This is only going to get as unpleasant as you choose to make it, Mr. Garibaldi." God, that voice... It was like cartoons, chocolate and sex all rolled into one. Unbidden, an image of Talia flowed into his mind - her slate-gray eyes wide, cheeks flushed, soft blond hair strewn across the pillows as her naked body writhed under his...
Another blow across his buttocks. He'd almost forgotten his fantasies were not entirely private.
"While I'm... flattered at the image, Mr. Garibaldi, I really think you should keep your mind on the topic." Her breath was warm and moist against the back of his neck.
"And what topic was that, Ms. Winters?" 'It's fleece was white as snow...' "Or should I call you 'Control'?" 'And everywhere that Mary went...'
"Talia will do," she purred, moving back around him and trailing the butt of the strop across his stomach as she went. "After all, even though she's gone... it's still her body. A body you seem to find... attractive." She pressed up against him, taking his earlobe between her lips and sucking on it.
'And everywhere that Mary went, the lamb was sure to go,' he recited desperately, as warmth spread through his body.
"You know I found Talia attractive." It was a desperate gamble, but his only defense. "But I'm not too sure I like the person in there at the moment - she doesn't appear to be housebroken."
Talia stepped away, and the whistle of the descending lash filled the chamber. Garibaldi's head spun back as it connected hard with his cheek bone, and he tasted blood in his mouth where it had split his lip open.
"In your situation, you should use better manners, Mr. Garibaldi," she warned, he fingers wiping the trickle of blood from his face. He could imaging her putting the finger to her lips and licking it clean.
"I will be back in a little while," she continued. "I expect to find you more... amenable then. Otherwise, the consequences could be... unpleasant."
--------------------------
As soon as he heard the door re-open, the nursery rhymes began again in his head.
'Old King Cole was a Merry Old Soul...'
"I hope you have considered your options thoroughly, Mr. Garibaldi. I would hate for this to be more unpleasant than it has to be."
'What would you know about unpleasant, you Psi-Corps bitch?' He didn't need to say it out loud: the sound of her indrawn breath told him she'd received the message loud and clear.
"You play a dangerous game, Mr. Garibaldi," she said, swiftly crossing the room. He prepared himself for a blow, but instead she tangled her fingers in the hair covering his groin and yanked. Hard.
He screamed.
"I told you there would be consequences, Michael," she hissed. "That was only a little taste of what could happen. Now, I suggest you cooperate."
She released him, and he sagged, his weight supported by his numb arms.
"All right." He could picture her straightening her hair. "My employers wish to know what you remember after you left Babylon 5."
"Nothing."
"Michael." Her hand closed around his balls and she gave them a warning squeeze.
"You *know* I'm telling the truth," he spat. "I remember *nothing* after leaving Babylon 5."
"Hmmm." She seemed to be pondering the matter. "Yes, I believe *you* believe you're telling the truth. But the mind stores all sorts of little details it doesn't always consciously remember as important." She let go of his scrotum, trailing her hand over him. "My employers are... anxious to find out more about the abilities of their allies. Their strengths... their weaknesses."
"So you can get rid of them?" Garibaldi let out a short bark of laughter. "You want to take out the Shadows after they've finished obliterating us and the non-aligned worlds. Your 'employers' must be either madder or stupider than I thought."
The lash struck his pectoral.
"It is a wise person who learns all they can about their allies," she explained smoothly. "They are powerful, yes. But not indestructible. Your friend Captain Sheridan proved that when he destroyed their base."
Garibaldi felt a momentary sense of elation: the plan had worked!
"Oh yes, it worked," Talia confirmed. "Unfortunately the good Captain was also toasted in the process. A feat my associates have no wish to emulate. So I want you to think back to the moment you were taken..."
Her hands pressed solidly against his chest, and he felt the feathery touch of her fingers probing his mind as he remembered...
....The blackness filling the window....
.....Being drawn in....
.....Then....
Nothing.
Nothing more until he awoke wherever he was now.
Talia withdrew.
"Well, it seems you were telling the truth." She sounded as shaky as he felt. The memory left him feeling... tainted. Somehow violated, but he couldn't for the life of him remember why.
Talia was at the table, and he heard a clink then the sound of liquid being poured into a glass. He involuntarily licked his lips, reminded by his parched mouth just how long it had been since he'd had anything to drink.
"You're thirsty."
It wasn't a question, so he didn't bother to reply: she already knew the answer. He was surprised when he felt a glass held to his lips. He gulped greedily as she tilted it, cool water running down his throat both inside and out.
"That's enough for now," she said, abruptly taking it away and placing it on the table. "If you're a good boy and answer all the questions, perhaps I'll get you some more."
"I thought I had answered the questions," he said, licking his lips to get the last bits of moisture. "I don't remember anything about the Shadow ship."
"Oh, but there are other things that you know that may prove very... useful." She was beside him once again.
He said nothing, reciting another nursery rhyme sub-vocally.
"I'm homesick for Babylon 5," she said coyly, wrapping a strand of his chest hair about her finger. "Perhaps you could tell me everything that's been going on there."
"Oh, you know: same old, same old." This line of questioning was *much* more dangerous. Perhaps he could get her mad enough to beat him into unconsciousness, - that way he couldn't answer any questions.
She struck his kneecap with a solid blow and he could almost feel her satisfaction as his leg collapsed and his weight yanked at his arm sockets.
"I can do this all day and night if necessary, Mr. Garibaldi. It's not hurting me in the least. Now. With the unfortunate demise of Captain Sheridan, who will be leading the rebels?"
"Duck Dodgers," he gasped, slowly rebalancing his weight.
This time it was the other kneecap. He screamed.
"You are only making this worse," she warned. "We can always use drugs to get the information."
"Then why don't you?" He struggled back up again. "It would be more efficient."
"Not entirely," Talia disagreed. He could hear her dragging the chair across the floor and set it before him. "You see, when I ask you something, your mind tries hard *not* to think about it. So in trying to hide it, you actually give away more."
From the change in her voice, he could tell she was now sitting.
"Besides," she added, "this is more fun."
"And even though you're a telepath, the pain doesn't bother you?"
"It would have bothered Talia." She leant back in the chair. "But I'm stronger. More focused. To me, it only adds a little... spice to the situation."
'And you get off on it,' he thought.
"Inelegantly put," she agreed with his unvoiced comment, "but essentially correct." She took one of his nipples between her fingers and pinched it a little.
"Now, my *dear friend* Susan is next in line to command the station," she continued, her hands gently caressing his chest, then moving lower to fondle him. "I've seen her record, however. She's an able officer, but has no experience in directing large-scale battles. So who is going to be helping her run your traitorous army?"
"Fuck you!" he growled, trying to pull away from the intimate touch. Her hands ceased their gentle caress.
"You know, that is the first sensible thing you have suggested all day, Mr. Garibaldi."
There was the rustling sounds of clothes being unfastened and dropped to the floor. Suddenly a warm, soft body pressed fully up against his front.
"A *very* good idea," she breathed.
Oh God. Ring a ring a rosie. A pocket full of posy.
"You know, all these nursery rhymes are getting very tedious." Her hair brushed against his chest, a satin swathe against his skin.
"Well, don't listen, then," he suggested, swallowing past dry lips.
She dragged the baton down his chest to lift his cock which was becoming erect despite his best intentions.
Nursery rhymes were out of the question, now. Instead he concentrated on turn-offs: Narn Opera. Londo in a dress. Spoo.
Talia laughed at the vivid imagery.
"Imaginative, Michael." She pulled away, and lay down on the floor in front of him, bracing her feet on his knees. "But imagine this...
"I'm lying on my back naked, on the floor in front of you. My legs are spread apart and I am slowly caressing my breasts. Can you see it, Michael? The rosy pink nipples are hard under my finger-tips and I can feel the gentle touches burn inside me."
Narn Opera. Londo in a tight red dress. Spoo for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Her right foot slid slowly up from his knee along his thigh to massage his groin.
"I don't think you're paying attention, Michael." He could hear the pout in her voice.
"My hands are now lightly running down my sides and across my flat stomach, making my skin tingle with anticipation. Gently, I'm sliding a finger over my clit..." He felt her feet jerk a little. "It feels sooo good."
God, her voice. It was the sexiest thing he'd ever heard. He shook his head, trying unsuccessfully to ignore his hard-on. G'Kar bellowing Narn Opera. Londo in a black lace girdle, thigh-high stockings and stilletoes. Spoo crawling all over a pizza.
"Ohhh... It feels so good. I'm continuing to rub myself. I'm getting wetter and wetter." Her foot stopped massaging his groin, returning to brace against his knee again. "I've got the baton in my other hand... Guess what I'm going to do with it?"
His breathing was unsteady. He knew *exactly* what she was about to do.
"That's right, I'm slowly pushing it into myself." She moaned. "It's sliding in. It feels good - not as good as a big fat cock, but still large and heavy... ohh..."
He could hear it moving in and out and Talia's continuous moaning. In his mind he could picture her: head tossed back, blond hair disarrayed, writhing as she pleasured herself.
"Ohhh... yes... I'm gonna come." She moaned loudly and her feet jerked against his knees. For a moment, the only sound was their rapid breathing - hers a higher counterpoint to his baritone rasp.
"Well, what do you think?"
"Think of what?" he asked as steadily as he could manage. "What do I think of a whore fucking herself on a substitute cock? Not much." His words were in direct contradiction to his highly aroused state. He'd found it a tremendous turn-on... the thought of Talia doing those things to herself.
"A whore?" He heard her climb to her feet: her voice quiet. Dangerous. He wondered if he'd finally managed to push her far enough.
"Yeah. A cheap, Psi-Corps prostitute. I wonder if your masters watching on the monitors were jacking off on your performance."
She didn't bother with the baton this time - her hand lashed out and caught him sharply across the same cheek she'd struck before.
"I think you're trying to provoke me into doing something irrational, Mr. Garibaldi. That is foolish of you. Very, very foolish. I *am* going to get what I want, one way or another."
She was behind him again, now. He tensed, expecting another blow, but her hands merely cupped his ass, squeezing gently; caressing him, then slid her finger between the cheeks gently stroking his anus.
"You don't like men, do you Michael?"
"What do you mean?" Wary. Her hands continued to fondle him.
"I mean you don't screw around with men. That in all likelihood this gorgeous ass of yours has never been violated." She squeezed him more firmly.
He swallowed hard and tried to pull away.
"Relax," she crooned, stroking her cheek against his broad back. "It will only hurt more if you struggle."
He felt something hard nudge his opening.
"Don't worry: it's been well lubricated..."
She pushed and he felt white-hot agony as it began to slide in.
"I do so like a piece of virgin ass," she whispered in his ear, withdrawing the stick a little then pushing it in further. He screamed, trying to expel the object.
"I told you to relax. It will be inside in a moment." She roughly fondled his balls with her free hand.
"Now, back to the topic at hand... Babylon 5." Her breath was warm against his shoulder blades and he whimpered as she continued her manipulations. The pain was beginning to recede and be replaced by pleasure.
"Who will help Ivanova?"
Unbidden, a picture of the War Council flashed through his mind: Delenn, G'Kar, Marcus, Kosh. Dammit! He began repeating his serial number, but Talia's warm hand sliding around his cock made it difficult to concentrate.
"Very interesting. I saw G'Kar and the Vorlon, that Minbari changeling slut and a handsome man I didn't recognize... Why, I thought I knew all the good looking men on Babylon 5."
"With your tastes, I wouldn't be surprised," he grated, trying to retain a grain of self-respect. She withdrew the baton and slid it in again harder. Then again. And again; all the time her hand squeezing his cock. He groaned. It just felt too damn good.
"Who is he?"
'A Ranger,' was in his head before he could censor it.
"Very good. You're getting the hang of this." Talia slid around in front of him on her knees - somehow managing to maintain her hold on the object in his ass - and ran her tongue along his engorged length. "Answers will be rewarded." She took the head in her mouth, swirling her tongue over it. He thrust forward unconsciously, but she pulled away, laughing.
"Not yet. Now, is this man in charge of these Rangers?"
Again, before he could catch it, Delenn's face was in his mind.
"Well, well, well... that is interesting." She took more of him in her mouth, this time dragging her teeth lightly along his length. He bucked, groaning a little, but again she pulled away.
"Our information appears to be correct, then. The rebels aboard Babylon 5 are completely under Minbari influence.... You know," she said in a confidential whisper, "there are all sorts of people who would *kill* to get their hands on the lovely Minbari Ambassador."
"Yeah, I imagine they're pretty fried at her after she forced them to retreat." He was amazed he was still capable of coherent thought.
"Not only for that, but they want her DNA. Want to learn how she managed the transformation from a Minbari to a Minbari/human hybrid. Could you imagine how useful it would be to be able to change people's DNA like that? Our spies would be perfect: we could infiltrate alien governments at the highest levels."
"I don't think the Minbari will share, somehow." He gasped, as she took him in again. God, he was going to come soon.
"We'll see about them sharing," she said, withdrawing before he could climax. "Did she ever say why she changed?"
"Who?" Oh, God, her mouth was so hot...
"The Minbari witch." She slapped him across the buttocks, causing his muscles to clench involuntarily around the shaft. "Pay attention."
"Uhh.. It was to become a bridge of understanding between Humans and Minbari. You must have seen the interview she did with that ISN reporter." He tried to follow her mouth with his cock.
"Yes, that's what she said... but Minbari never tell the whole truth, do they?" She thrust the baton into his ass for emphasis.
"No..." he groaned, squirming at the sensation.
"So why then?"
"Don't know..." He gasped as she squeezed his balls none too gently.
"You can do better than that," she suggested. "Why?"
"Don't know - she's never said anything." He tossed his head back as she tasted his balls; licking them.
"Are you sure?"
He tried to concentrate - he shouldn't be doing this; shouldn't be saying anything, but her tongue on him... Oh God... The only image of Delenn he could conjure up in regards to humans was when Sheridan kissed her hand after she routed the Earth Alliance ships.
"So, the Minbari are in bed with the rebels in more ways than one," Talia purred. "That is *very* interesting." She licked the bead of moisture from the tip of his cock and he jerked violently.
"Now, G'Kar is not a problem - the Narn have been so thoroughly crushed by the Centauri that they have no military aid they can offer. What about the Vorlons?"
"What about them?" He needed to come, needed some sort of contact with his aching cock to allow him to orgasm. But his cock stood erect and isolated from any possible means of release except the woman kneeling in front of him. He thrust forward, as her hot breath caressed him. Please...
"Will they come to the rebels aid?"
'Who?' was his confused thought, his mind totally centered further down his body. Oh. The Vorlons. Not bloody likely. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting, praying for the caress: he couldn't defend his mind when his body was being assaulted with this level of pleasure.
"Well, I think that has been a productive first session, Mr. Garibaldi," Talia said, standing.
"Wait." The word sprang to his lips without conscious thought.
"Why?" She stood close, her belly pressed against his erection and he rubbed up against her desperately. She shifted back, still close enough that he could feel the heat from her skin, but not close enough to touch. "Why?" she repeated.
"Please," a whimper tore from his throat. "Please." God, he had been reduced to begging.
"Please what?"
"Please... I need... Don't leave me like this."
Her finger traced his jaw, then across his lips.
"Very well, Mr. Garibaldi. But only because I like you."
She tucked a leg up over his hip, guiding him inside. Her hand moved the shaft in his ass in time with his frantic thrusts. He groaned at the duel sensations of being engulfed by a hot, tight wetness and the rhythmic movement filling him from behind. It didn't take long. As she claimed his mouth in a savage kiss, he thrust harder and spilled into her even as she clenched and shuddered around him.
Garibaldi slumped, allowing the chains on his arms to momentarily support his weight.
"You know something," she whispered in his ear, reaching behind him and pulling the shaft from his ass. "You're good. I should have fucked you a long time ago."
He heard a soft metallic click and suddenly the restraints around his arm vanished. Bereft of support, he fell to the ground in an uncomfortable heap. He slowly lowered his arms, and screamed with agony as the blood began to flow again. He barely noticed as the leg restraints were also removed.
Tears of pain soaking the blindfold, he lay curled up on his side, unable to do more than whimper.
After a while, he became aware of the fact he had been covered with a blanket.
"I'll be back later with more questions, Mr. Garibaldi." Talia moved to the door.
"What then?" he rasped, not really wanting to know, but having to ask what the outcome would be. He was ashamed that she'd been able to get to him by pushing just the right buttons. If it had been a normal person interrogating him, he might have been able to withstand it. But her fingers had reached into his mind pulling the information out as soon as he thought it. "You'll kill me?" It was unlikely, but he could always hope. Death would mean he wouldn't have to face his friends again, knowing how he'd betrayed them.
Her laughter was as cold as ice.
"Oh no, Mr. Garibaldi, we won't kill you: you're *much* too valuable for that. You see, my exposure left my organization at a severe disadvantage as far as Babylon 5 is concerned. We need another pair of eyes and ears aboard the station. So, after you have been implanted with a control personality, you will be returned to take up your new position as spy amongst the rebels."
The door swished shut behind her, leaving Michael Garibaldi alone in his cell to contemplate the horror of his fate.
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END: A Matter of Control
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