Desperate Plan
Title: Desperate Plan
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis AU
Series: from the Telpa ‘verse
Characters: SPOILER
Word Count: 735
Orientation: Slash
Rating: NC-17
Notes: DUBCON/NONCON, slave!fic, BDSM
Prompt: Kinkbingo Fill: “Masters, Doms, Subs, Slaves”
Things were not going at all according to plan. In fact, this was quite likely the worst plan he had ever come up with in his life.
“Jaa!” As the whip slashed down across his back and the command he had misunderstood, again, was repeated, again, he went to his knees and cursed himself for being a fool. The man had been introduced as the Trainer for this Bardero he had been purchased to serve.
“Sis!”
Damn, what was Sis again? Was that the command to stand up or was that the one that meant he was supposed to go down on his face? He started to stand up and the lash landed again. Fuck! His back was going to be a mass of cuts by the time this training session was over! He flopped forward onto his crossed arms.
“Arms out! Proper form!” His forearm was kicked, hard. This was such a bad idea. He had learned nothing since agreeing to do this, since agreeing to sacrifice himself to get inside the Bardero. He was proving incapable of learning the simplest commands, it seemed. It was humbling, and humiliating. They’d taken his clothes. He was naked in the center of a cellar room, with this stranger, this Trainer.
“It seems DranWrin bought us another stupid telpa. It is a damned good thing you’ve a pretty face, telpa, or you would be very, very sorry.”
He groaned. That was the other thing. He thought he’d been signing on as a field hand, only to find he was now a sexual slave. He’d thought maybe he could find out some information before he had to actually perform the duties he’d been bought to do, but they had put him right into the hands of this cruel man with a whip, a free hand, and no patience.
He wondered if the others were having more luck?
~*~
“Gan! Jaa!”
Wonderful. This was just wonderful. Things were going from bad to worse. Not only was he a sex slave, he was a sex slave for the son of the house, a pampered, spoiled, arrogant and nasty man.
He’d spent three days in training with the man in the cellar. Then he had been sent above stairs.
He dropped his pants and knelt. He expected the guy to demand a blowjob. He didn’t expect him to walk around behind him and shove at his shoulder. “Sis!” He bent forward, stretching his arms out.
The man, Wrin Mac’Kay, knelt behind him. Without warning or preparation, he felt the Wrin’s cock at his ass. Biting his lip, as he’d been warned what the penalties for refusal were, and they were far more unpleasant than a bit of rough buggering, he grunted slightly as he was breached.
The Wrin said nothing; his hand was pressed to the small of the telpa’s back as he shoved and pushed until he made it in. It took a bit of time without any preparation, but eventually he was able to thrust in and out.
It hurt. It hurt a lot. He couldn’t help the small cry that escaped. That displeased the Wrin. A punch landed on the telpa’s hip, followed by a hard slap to the back of his head. No words, just the physical reminder that silence was expected during service.
The Wrin could make all the noise he wanted, and he came with a hoarse grunt. He yanked out and came around to demand, “Jaa!”
Kneel? Was the Wrin serious? He was split open here, probably bleeding, the Wrin wasn’t a small man. He slowly pushed up onto his palms and knelt upright, weaving in place as the pain shot through him.
“Cre!”
He blinked and stared at the cock handing limply in front of him, and yes, there was blood. Shuddering, he reached up and stroked the Wrin’s cock, trying to wipe the mess off before putting his mouth there, as expected.
Blinking away tears, which were from pain, not for any other reason. Not because of what had just happened. He closed his eyes and tried to shut out what he was doing, tried so very hard not to think about what had been done to him and what he was doing.
He wondered if John was even still alive. It had been three years. What the fuck had he been thinking, doing this? Mitchell cursed himself for a fool again.
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis AU
Series: from the Telpa ‘verse
Characters: SPOILER
Word Count: 735
Orientation: Slash
Rating: NC-17
Notes: DUBCON/NONCON, slave!fic, BDSM
Prompt: Kinkbingo Fill: “Masters, Doms, Subs, Slaves”
Things were not going at all according to plan. In fact, this was quite likely the worst plan he had ever come up with in his life.
“Jaa!” As the whip slashed down across his back and the command he had misunderstood, again, was repeated, again, he went to his knees and cursed himself for being a fool. The man had been introduced as the Trainer for this Bardero he had been purchased to serve.
“Sis!”
Damn, what was Sis again? Was that the command to stand up or was that the one that meant he was supposed to go down on his face? He started to stand up and the lash landed again. Fuck! His back was going to be a mass of cuts by the time this training session was over! He flopped forward onto his crossed arms.
“Arms out! Proper form!” His forearm was kicked, hard. This was such a bad idea. He had learned nothing since agreeing to do this, since agreeing to sacrifice himself to get inside the Bardero. He was proving incapable of learning the simplest commands, it seemed. It was humbling, and humiliating. They’d taken his clothes. He was naked in the center of a cellar room, with this stranger, this Trainer.
“It seems DranWrin bought us another stupid telpa. It is a damned good thing you’ve a pretty face, telpa, or you would be very, very sorry.”
He groaned. That was the other thing. He thought he’d been signing on as a field hand, only to find he was now a sexual slave. He’d thought maybe he could find out some information before he had to actually perform the duties he’d been bought to do, but they had put him right into the hands of this cruel man with a whip, a free hand, and no patience.
He wondered if the others were having more luck?
~*~
“Gan! Jaa!”
Wonderful. This was just wonderful. Things were going from bad to worse. Not only was he a sex slave, he was a sex slave for the son of the house, a pampered, spoiled, arrogant and nasty man.
He’d spent three days in training with the man in the cellar. Then he had been sent above stairs.
He dropped his pants and knelt. He expected the guy to demand a blowjob. He didn’t expect him to walk around behind him and shove at his shoulder. “Sis!” He bent forward, stretching his arms out.
The man, Wrin Mac’Kay, knelt behind him. Without warning or preparation, he felt the Wrin’s cock at his ass. Biting his lip, as he’d been warned what the penalties for refusal were, and they were far more unpleasant than a bit of rough buggering, he grunted slightly as he was breached.
The Wrin said nothing; his hand was pressed to the small of the telpa’s back as he shoved and pushed until he made it in. It took a bit of time without any preparation, but eventually he was able to thrust in and out.
It hurt. It hurt a lot. He couldn’t help the small cry that escaped. That displeased the Wrin. A punch landed on the telpa’s hip, followed by a hard slap to the back of his head. No words, just the physical reminder that silence was expected during service.
The Wrin could make all the noise he wanted, and he came with a hoarse grunt. He yanked out and came around to demand, “Jaa!”
Kneel? Was the Wrin serious? He was split open here, probably bleeding, the Wrin wasn’t a small man. He slowly pushed up onto his palms and knelt upright, weaving in place as the pain shot through him.
“Cre!”
He blinked and stared at the cock handing limply in front of him, and yes, there was blood. Shuddering, he reached up and stroked the Wrin’s cock, trying to wipe the mess off before putting his mouth there, as expected.
Blinking away tears, which were from pain, not for any other reason. Not because of what had just happened. He closed his eyes and tried to shut out what he was doing, tried so very hard not to think about what had been done to him and what he was doing.
He wondered if John was even still alive. It had been three years. What the fuck had he been thinking, doing this? Mitchell cursed himself for a fool again.