SGA FanFic: This Never Happened to Captain Kirk (Chapter 9)
Originally posted by nacinom at SGA FanFic: This Never Happened to Captain Kirk (Chapter 9)
Title: This Never Happened to Captain Kirk
Chapter: 9 of 13+ (More pain for Sheppard, but possibly an opportunity for escape)
Chapter word count: 1958
Pairings: Sheppard/Teyla
Genre: Drama, Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Non-consensual and (eventually) consensual sex (het), explicit, violence, torture
Disclaimer: SGA characters and tv episodes/book plots are not mine. I wrote this story for fun not profit.
Note: The story is set post-season five in a sort of AU somewhere between book two (The Lost) and book three (Allegiance) of the Legacy Series of SGA novels (which I definitely recommend) written by Joe Graham, Amy Griswold and Melissa Scott. My story has some minor spoilers for these books.
Summary: Far away from Atlantis, Sheppard becomes the prisoner of a powerful woman who has an unhealthy obsession for him. With little hope for rescue, he must find a way to escape before his captor maims him, kills him or drives him insane with her unwanted attention. Will Sheppard find his way back to Atlantis? Will this hellish experience affect his recently initiated relationship with Teyla?
-----------------------------------------------
Chapter 9
“Kharla, remember the pretty designs I made on the colonel’s left arm?” Vernara said, barely slowing down. It was amazing how she could switch from heavy panting and moaning, to sounding like a very patient elementary school teacher. “Be a really good girl, take my knife and make the same cuts on his upper back.”
At those words, Sheppard felt pathetically torn between fear and hope. He dreaded that a weaponized Kharla automaton would attack his back while Vernara continued with her punishing frontal assault. But, a knife in the hands of a barely out of her teens girl instead of a trained Amazon seemed like a tiny ray of sunshine.
Kharla moved so quietly that he did not notice that she was already behind him until the first cut began to split his skin. Cringing, he admonished himself for being so distracted. Now, he simply had to ignore the current and escalating pain to come up with a plan. This was his chance-he hoped.
As if reading his mind, Vernara switched her grip from his jocks to his arm restraints. She firmly pulled on the ropes, effectively immobilizing his body chest-to-chest against hers, and trapping him as deep as possible within her. “Cut very slowly and not too deeply. The tip sunk through the skin is sufficient to ensure that you draw blood with each cut,” she said. “Of course, when the colonel moves the cut will be deeper.”
Kharla leaned into him to make her careful incisions. Her silky slip brushed against his already-torn skin, causing an unexpected shiver. He could hear her low steady breaths. She remained totally unperturbed by her sadistic act. Sheppard, however, could not control his trembling. The languorously carved cuts felt like fire ants stinging their way in tight lines along his back. He felt simultaneously cold and hot, and suffocated by the forced total-body contact with Vernara’s sweaty skin. Her incessant downward circular pressure on his ring-entrapped erection had become unbearable. For the second time in less than a day, his eyes filled with tears.
“Kharla please stop,” he said trying not to whimper. “You … you don’t want to do this.”
“She can’t hear you, John,” said Vernara between moans of pleasure. She licked the wetness running down his cheeks. “This is wonderful, it feels so good.”
Through misty vision, he saw that Verdana positively glowed with pleasure. The bitch was reaching new heights of arousal by feeding on the agony wracking through his body-like a pain-sucking vampire or, to use a more Pegasus relevant analogy, a human Wraith. Now, on top of everything else, he felt unbearably claustrophobic. Get her off, get her off, his mind screamed even more loudly than before.
Sunk into a red haze of pain, he was barely conscious when Vernara achieved her culmination. At that point, the one random coherent thought he managed to have was to wonder if this woman’s insatiable sexual appetite was natural or artificially induced. What the hell was in her glass?
Next thing he knew, Kharla was offering him a straw to drink. He found himself leaning toward the empty bed, his upper body held up by the harness. Vernara seemed to have disappeared. His back was on fire, and other parts of him throbbed unrelentingly. Lips parched, he took a few sips before he realized that it was more kalantra juice. He spat out what he had not yet swallowed. Unperturbed, Kharla wiped his face and set the flask aside. Then, she cleaned the fresh cuts and slightly older whip marks on his back. After the initial atrocious sting, the stuff had amazing powers to dull down the pain. He tried to crane his neck to see where Vernara had gone.
“Kharla, please put the blindfold back on Sheppard,” Vernara’s voice resounded from behind the privacy screen. “It’s time for the big surprise.”
His stomach clenched in apprehension. Crap, the big surprised had not happened yet? How much worse could the day, or night or whatever it was, get? His eyes darted around the bed, trying to remember an important detail. The knife, where was the knife? He fervently hoped that Vernara had not returned it to her sheath. Right before Kharla covered his eyes with the blindfold, he caught a glimpse of a blade tangled in the sheets to his right.
He knew that he had nothing to lose when he whispered to her, “Kharla, please, please help me. If you cut the rope on my right arm and hand me that knife, I can free us. What she is making you do isn’t right. You don’t belong here. Please.”
Kharla synched the knot, relegating him to darkness. Without responding to his plea, she took the spot on the bed that Vernara had occupied and gently wiped the sweat and (yes) tears from his face.
“Kharla, you have to snap out of whatever Vernara did to you.” He continued even more softly. There had to be a way to reach her. “I know from the kindness you showed me before that you wouldn’t willingly hurt anyone. We can get away together. Help me and I will help you; I promise. I just need the knife.”
“Are you enjoying your chat with her, John?” Vernara’s voice from across the room chilled him to the bone.
“Oh, yes she is quite the conversationalist,” he answered having reclaimed an almost casual tone. “You know, we had so much fun already. Maybe you should save the big surprise for tomorrow, to stretch out the festivities.”
“Don’t worry John, I still have plenty more surprises for tomorrow too and for many days after that,” she said, her voice sounding closer. “Trust me you wouldn’t like it if I ran out of them.”
She ruffled his hair in a gesture that would have been playful when done by most women but with her became sinister. Her hand grabbed his shoulders and she pulled him back to a kneeling position. The sudden motion made him see stars. Then, he felt her snatch at something around his neck. For a second, he thought she had decided to strangle him, he fervently hoped that she wasn’t into, what was it called? …erotic asphyxiation?
Instead she slipped the gag back in his mouth. “Enough of your talk. Kharla, put the cloths down and take off your slip. You must be very hot, dear. Very good. Now, I want you to spread your legs and move closer to Sheppard. I am going to remove his blindfold so that you will be able to see his pretty eyes.”
Sheppard swore in his gag when he saw Kharla sitting on the bed in front of him, legs splayed around him, in the same position Vernara had been not too long ago. He wondered if Kharla had been made to do this before. He remembered what she had said in his cell about having to do her mistress’ bidding because she was a bond servant. This made him hate Vernara even more. Fueled by his anger, he didn’t feel tired anymore, he had to do something, anything to stop this.
He triplicated his efforts to loosen the wrist bindings and he resisted Vernara’s push to bend him over the girl. He managed to hold her at bay until she dug several fingers into the already reddened bandages on his arm and some of the deeper whip slashes on his back. The gag muffled his scream from the pain explosion that shocked his entire body. He almost passed out and Vernara forced him into a crouch over Kharla. His weight fell forward on bound hands that he had managed to plant on the bed on both sides of Kharla’s waist. Showing great youthful flexibility, she had spread and raised her own knees to perfectly line up herself with him.
Under Vernara’s command she rubbed herself on his tip. At the same time, the woman behind him probed his cleft with something slathered in lubricant. It felt much bigger than the rods she had used before. If he hadn’t known that Vernara was the only other person in the chamber, he would have thought that a man was trying to screw him. Great, he was being very unfairly attacked on two fronts.
“Good job, Kharla,” Her voice was syrupy like a kindergarten teacher praising a pupil for drawing a pretty picture. “Now dear, make his thick manhood sink into you. You know you want him to be your first.”
Kharla ’s ankles hooked behind his thighs and her fingers grasped the leather of his jocks. She pulled him in. The guided descent was slow. He tensed all his leg and back muscles to resist her. He held her off until a scorching stab impaled him and propelled him forward. The motion plunged him deep into the girl’s despite her tightness.
Something cleared in Kharla’s fogged mind and she cried out. That was the first sound she had made since coming to the chamber. Her eyes, no longer lost and unfocused, were opened wide in pain and terror.
“Please stop,” she said trying to push him off.
He desperately wanted to oblige her, but he had no leverage. His wrists were tied to his sides and his hands couldn’t support him at the forward angle he had been pressed onto. He strained his back and legs but couldn’t get himself off the girl. Vernara had pinned him between them.
Despite the immense pain at the center of his body, Sheppard’s main concern was the horrible most inconceivable thing that was happening between him and Kharla-for all intense and purpose he was raping her. He couldn’t believe that he had been so stupid and self-centered not have considered this possibility. He should have long ago realized what Vernara had in demented mind and stopped it by any means necessary before it got to this point of no return. He felt such shame and despair that he could not hold back the tears streaming down his cheeks. His salty drops fell on Kharla’s face, mingling with hers.
He wanted to tell her how sorry he was, but he couldn’t. Now his first priority had to be to get off her. He finally managed to push the gag partly out of his mouth with his tongue. He tried to tell her to get the knife; his words were garbled as he repeated over and over in her ear, “Gt m knf, pls.”
The message finally got through Kharla’s panic. While with her left hand she continued to push him off her body, with the other she felt around the sheets for the knife. Even though it cost him a lot, Sheppard was grateful that Vernara’s concentrated attack on his back kept her too distracted to notice the girl’s movement. With her full body pressing down on him, Vernara’s left hand gripped his hip and her right arm was wrapped around his neck, constricting his airway. All he could do for the moment was try to keep as much of his weight off Kharla as possible. Otherwise, he thought their combined masses would crush her or at least break a few ribs.
He forced himself not to react when the knife blade repeatedly scraped his right side as Kharla cut the rope. He knew he needed to act fast to catch Vernara by surprise and he did. His reacted with pure instinct fueled by all the built-up rage at what she had done to him and Kharla. As soon as his arms were free, he stabbed her above the hip, flipped her to the left side of the bed and put her in a choke hold. Vernara barely had time to croak in protest.
Go back to Chapters 1& 2
Title: This Never Happened to Captain Kirk
Chapter: 9 of 13+ (More pain for Sheppard, but possibly an opportunity for escape)
Chapter word count: 1958
Pairings: Sheppard/Teyla
Genre: Drama, Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Non-consensual and (eventually) consensual sex (het), explicit, violence, torture
Disclaimer: SGA characters and tv episodes/book plots are not mine. I wrote this story for fun not profit.
Note: The story is set post-season five in a sort of AU somewhere between book two (The Lost) and book three (Allegiance) of the Legacy Series of SGA novels (which I definitely recommend) written by Joe Graham, Amy Griswold and Melissa Scott. My story has some minor spoilers for these books.
Summary: Far away from Atlantis, Sheppard becomes the prisoner of a powerful woman who has an unhealthy obsession for him. With little hope for rescue, he must find a way to escape before his captor maims him, kills him or drives him insane with her unwanted attention. Will Sheppard find his way back to Atlantis? Will this hellish experience affect his recently initiated relationship with Teyla?
-----------------------------------------------
Chapter 9
“Kharla, remember the pretty designs I made on the colonel’s left arm?” Vernara said, barely slowing down. It was amazing how she could switch from heavy panting and moaning, to sounding like a very patient elementary school teacher. “Be a really good girl, take my knife and make the same cuts on his upper back.”
At those words, Sheppard felt pathetically torn between fear and hope. He dreaded that a weaponized Kharla automaton would attack his back while Vernara continued with her punishing frontal assault. But, a knife in the hands of a barely out of her teens girl instead of a trained Amazon seemed like a tiny ray of sunshine.
Kharla moved so quietly that he did not notice that she was already behind him until the first cut began to split his skin. Cringing, he admonished himself for being so distracted. Now, he simply had to ignore the current and escalating pain to come up with a plan. This was his chance-he hoped.
As if reading his mind, Vernara switched her grip from his jocks to his arm restraints. She firmly pulled on the ropes, effectively immobilizing his body chest-to-chest against hers, and trapping him as deep as possible within her. “Cut very slowly and not too deeply. The tip sunk through the skin is sufficient to ensure that you draw blood with each cut,” she said. “Of course, when the colonel moves the cut will be deeper.”
Kharla leaned into him to make her careful incisions. Her silky slip brushed against his already-torn skin, causing an unexpected shiver. He could hear her low steady breaths. She remained totally unperturbed by her sadistic act. Sheppard, however, could not control his trembling. The languorously carved cuts felt like fire ants stinging their way in tight lines along his back. He felt simultaneously cold and hot, and suffocated by the forced total-body contact with Vernara’s sweaty skin. Her incessant downward circular pressure on his ring-entrapped erection had become unbearable. For the second time in less than a day, his eyes filled with tears.
“Kharla please stop,” he said trying not to whimper. “You … you don’t want to do this.”
“She can’t hear you, John,” said Vernara between moans of pleasure. She licked the wetness running down his cheeks. “This is wonderful, it feels so good.”
Through misty vision, he saw that Verdana positively glowed with pleasure. The bitch was reaching new heights of arousal by feeding on the agony wracking through his body-like a pain-sucking vampire or, to use a more Pegasus relevant analogy, a human Wraith. Now, on top of everything else, he felt unbearably claustrophobic. Get her off, get her off, his mind screamed even more loudly than before.
Sunk into a red haze of pain, he was barely conscious when Vernara achieved her culmination. At that point, the one random coherent thought he managed to have was to wonder if this woman’s insatiable sexual appetite was natural or artificially induced. What the hell was in her glass?
Next thing he knew, Kharla was offering him a straw to drink. He found himself leaning toward the empty bed, his upper body held up by the harness. Vernara seemed to have disappeared. His back was on fire, and other parts of him throbbed unrelentingly. Lips parched, he took a few sips before he realized that it was more kalantra juice. He spat out what he had not yet swallowed. Unperturbed, Kharla wiped his face and set the flask aside. Then, she cleaned the fresh cuts and slightly older whip marks on his back. After the initial atrocious sting, the stuff had amazing powers to dull down the pain. He tried to crane his neck to see where Vernara had gone.
“Kharla, please put the blindfold back on Sheppard,” Vernara’s voice resounded from behind the privacy screen. “It’s time for the big surprise.”
His stomach clenched in apprehension. Crap, the big surprised had not happened yet? How much worse could the day, or night or whatever it was, get? His eyes darted around the bed, trying to remember an important detail. The knife, where was the knife? He fervently hoped that Vernara had not returned it to her sheath. Right before Kharla covered his eyes with the blindfold, he caught a glimpse of a blade tangled in the sheets to his right.
He knew that he had nothing to lose when he whispered to her, “Kharla, please, please help me. If you cut the rope on my right arm and hand me that knife, I can free us. What she is making you do isn’t right. You don’t belong here. Please.”
Kharla synched the knot, relegating him to darkness. Without responding to his plea, she took the spot on the bed that Vernara had occupied and gently wiped the sweat and (yes) tears from his face.
“Kharla, you have to snap out of whatever Vernara did to you.” He continued even more softly. There had to be a way to reach her. “I know from the kindness you showed me before that you wouldn’t willingly hurt anyone. We can get away together. Help me and I will help you; I promise. I just need the knife.”
“Are you enjoying your chat with her, John?” Vernara’s voice from across the room chilled him to the bone.
“Oh, yes she is quite the conversationalist,” he answered having reclaimed an almost casual tone. “You know, we had so much fun already. Maybe you should save the big surprise for tomorrow, to stretch out the festivities.”
“Don’t worry John, I still have plenty more surprises for tomorrow too and for many days after that,” she said, her voice sounding closer. “Trust me you wouldn’t like it if I ran out of them.”
She ruffled his hair in a gesture that would have been playful when done by most women but with her became sinister. Her hand grabbed his shoulders and she pulled him back to a kneeling position. The sudden motion made him see stars. Then, he felt her snatch at something around his neck. For a second, he thought she had decided to strangle him, he fervently hoped that she wasn’t into, what was it called? …erotic asphyxiation?
Instead she slipped the gag back in his mouth. “Enough of your talk. Kharla, put the cloths down and take off your slip. You must be very hot, dear. Very good. Now, I want you to spread your legs and move closer to Sheppard. I am going to remove his blindfold so that you will be able to see his pretty eyes.”
Sheppard swore in his gag when he saw Kharla sitting on the bed in front of him, legs splayed around him, in the same position Vernara had been not too long ago. He wondered if Kharla had been made to do this before. He remembered what she had said in his cell about having to do her mistress’ bidding because she was a bond servant. This made him hate Vernara even more. Fueled by his anger, he didn’t feel tired anymore, he had to do something, anything to stop this.
He triplicated his efforts to loosen the wrist bindings and he resisted Vernara’s push to bend him over the girl. He managed to hold her at bay until she dug several fingers into the already reddened bandages on his arm and some of the deeper whip slashes on his back. The gag muffled his scream from the pain explosion that shocked his entire body. He almost passed out and Vernara forced him into a crouch over Kharla. His weight fell forward on bound hands that he had managed to plant on the bed on both sides of Kharla’s waist. Showing great youthful flexibility, she had spread and raised her own knees to perfectly line up herself with him.
Under Vernara’s command she rubbed herself on his tip. At the same time, the woman behind him probed his cleft with something slathered in lubricant. It felt much bigger than the rods she had used before. If he hadn’t known that Vernara was the only other person in the chamber, he would have thought that a man was trying to screw him. Great, he was being very unfairly attacked on two fronts.
“Good job, Kharla,” Her voice was syrupy like a kindergarten teacher praising a pupil for drawing a pretty picture. “Now dear, make his thick manhood sink into you. You know you want him to be your first.”
Kharla ’s ankles hooked behind his thighs and her fingers grasped the leather of his jocks. She pulled him in. The guided descent was slow. He tensed all his leg and back muscles to resist her. He held her off until a scorching stab impaled him and propelled him forward. The motion plunged him deep into the girl’s despite her tightness.
Something cleared in Kharla’s fogged mind and she cried out. That was the first sound she had made since coming to the chamber. Her eyes, no longer lost and unfocused, were opened wide in pain and terror.
“Please stop,” she said trying to push him off.
He desperately wanted to oblige her, but he had no leverage. His wrists were tied to his sides and his hands couldn’t support him at the forward angle he had been pressed onto. He strained his back and legs but couldn’t get himself off the girl. Vernara had pinned him between them.
Despite the immense pain at the center of his body, Sheppard’s main concern was the horrible most inconceivable thing that was happening between him and Kharla-for all intense and purpose he was raping her. He couldn’t believe that he had been so stupid and self-centered not have considered this possibility. He should have long ago realized what Vernara had in demented mind and stopped it by any means necessary before it got to this point of no return. He felt such shame and despair that he could not hold back the tears streaming down his cheeks. His salty drops fell on Kharla’s face, mingling with hers.
He wanted to tell her how sorry he was, but he couldn’t. Now his first priority had to be to get off her. He finally managed to push the gag partly out of his mouth with his tongue. He tried to tell her to get the knife; his words were garbled as he repeated over and over in her ear, “Gt m knf, pls.”
The message finally got through Kharla’s panic. While with her left hand she continued to push him off her body, with the other she felt around the sheets for the knife. Even though it cost him a lot, Sheppard was grateful that Vernara’s concentrated attack on his back kept her too distracted to notice the girl’s movement. With her full body pressing down on him, Vernara’s left hand gripped his hip and her right arm was wrapped around his neck, constricting his airway. All he could do for the moment was try to keep as much of his weight off Kharla as possible. Otherwise, he thought their combined masses would crush her or at least break a few ribs.
He forced himself not to react when the knife blade repeatedly scraped his right side as Kharla cut the rope. He knew he needed to act fast to catch Vernara by surprise and he did. His reacted with pure instinct fueled by all the built-up rage at what she had done to him and Kharla. As soon as his arms were free, he stabbed her above the hip, flipped her to the left side of the bed and put her in a choke hold. Vernara barely had time to croak in protest.
Go back to Chapters 1& 2