Cardassian.Lessons (A sequel to _Garak's Revenge

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Cardassian.Lessons (A sequel to _Garak's Revenge_)

by anon

Date: Tue, 12 Mar 1996 14:03:47 -0800
(c) by Mary E.
marye@trekfiction.net

Chapter One: A Primer for Julian

"Say it. Tell me you're my slave."

"I won't!" Bashir panted. His naked body was stretched out and secured to his own bed; his arms were extended tightly above his head and tied together to the headboard with a silken scarf, while his legs were spread wide apart and fastened to the bed's lower corners. Straining against his bonds, he arched his back and clenched his arm muscles. A bundle of soft leather lashes fell swiftly on his erection, sending him into another fit of struggling.

"No," he moaned, raising his hips as if to follow the departing lash.

"You like this too much," the other said threateningly, "so you'd better say it now, or I'll stop whipping you."

"Oh, don't stop," Julian moaned again. "Please..." His tormentor waited, smiling at the delicious spectacle he made with a sheen of sweat gilding his slim body. The lashes teased his taut erection--its creamy shaft stood out invitingly against the tawny skin of his abdomen. He opened his hazel eyes wider. "You can't leave me like this!" The lash came down again and again as he yelled and writhed in abandon. Then it stopped once more, waiting, ready to continue at his very first words.

"Yes," Bashir said with an effort, "you're right. I'm your slave, I'm--" As the lashes struck him time after time, his words dissolved into a groan and a shout of ecstacy. He ejaculated powerfully onto his own chest and stomach. Kira released him from his bonds almost before his spasms had ended. She knelt by the side of the bed.

"Julian, are you all right?"

"All right?" he sighed. "All right? I'm wonderful." He took her by the shoulders and urged her onto the bed. "Come here," he ordered softly.

She straddled his head, opening her labia to his tongue, which dabbled in circles around her clitoris before wriggling on it hard, making her sigh and tilt her pelvis towards him. Julian hummed his appreciation for her warm, delicious scent and started his tongue swirling into her opening before bringing it back to lick her clitoris with hard, brief strokes. Kira's head bent forward as she made a low sound in her throat. The throbbing began in her vagina and travelled throughout her body, tingling across her skin, contracting her nipples, and ending in her throat, leaving a contented sweetness there. When she opened her eyes she found that she had entwined both hands in Julian's hair.

"Did I hurt you?" she asked, releasing her hold and slipping down to lie beside him.

"No." He smiled a silly, satiated smile at her, his angular face still shining with her thick juices. She returned the smile and ran a finger through the slick stuff, feeling the rasp of his beard stubble beneath. With the edge of the sheet, she tenderly wiped his chin and lips. When they kissed, she tasted her own musky aroma. His slightly swollen lips seemed tender and vulnerable, giving her a slight pang near her heart. She bent and kissed him deeply, savoring his male scent as it mixed with hers. He rubbed his hands over her shoulders and neck while murmuring contentment deep in his throat. When their lips parted, she buried her head between his shoulder and neck. He stroked her hair languorously. They drowsed.

Some time later, a figure stood contemplating them, observing the discarded whip and bonds with disgust. As if she felt his eyes upon her, Kira awakened and looked up.

"Odo," she said softly. She followed his disapproving look to the scattered implements and the semen caked on Bashir's belly. Disentangling herself gently from his limbs, she rose and pulled a short robe off a chair. Julian murmured indistinguishable words and rolled on his side without awakening. Odo followed Kira into the next room.

She stood watching him with her hand on her hips. "I thought you were on Bajor," she said accusingly.

"Nerys," he began, "I don't--"

"Now you know," Nerys interrupted. "Julian and I play bondage games."

"I already knew," Odo answered impatiently. "I've known for months, since before Julian started seeing Garak again."

"You have?" Kira looked truly surprised.

"I know that Julian is afraid to play out those scenes with Garak anymore, but he feels safe enough doing them with you."

"Did he tell you that?"

Odo grimaced uncomfortably. "He didn't have to tell me. I know him. I picked up on little hints here and there. But what I want to know is why? Why do you want to hurt him?"

It was Nerys's turn to frown. She cinched the belt of her robe and sat in a straight-backed chair with her knees apart and her elbows resting on them. "I don't want to hurt him, Odo," she said softly. "For one thing, it's just a game. The...whips"-- she swallowed hard on the word--"don't even leave a mark. They just stimulate him. For another thing, I enjoy surprising him."

"Is he always on the bottom?" Odo asked angrily.

"No, not at all. Sometimes it's my turn, and then he surprises me. I like that, too." She sat back and placed her hands on her thighs, looking straight up at Odo's disapproving face. "Look, Odo, I don't have to justify myself to you. You and I have a different kind of relationship from mine and Julian's. And you and Julian--I don't pry into what you do."

"We make love," Odo said defensively.

Kira's eyes darkened. "There's one more point I need to make here," she said in a suddenly throaty voice. "This wasn't all my idea. I was willing to play a few bondage games, but I resisted taking it this far. The whips bothered me for a long time." She stood and walked over to Odo, placing her hands on his arms as if to steady him. "But Julian wanted it so much. You can't imagine how he insisted. Playing those dangerous games with Garak brought up appetites in him he never knew he had."

Odo shook his head. "He hated all that. He never wanted to be a slave. He--"

Kira lay her forehead against Odo's pliant chest for a moment. "You know he did," she said softly, meeting his gaze again. "The time when you held him down and forced him to beg for you, he couldn't admit how much he'd enjoyed it. He was angry and confused. After he took his revenge on you, he was afraid to tell you about his ambivalence. The first time Garak trapped him in the holosuite and raped him, he realized later that the thought of what had happened turned him on. The idea of being helpless in Garak's hands excited him, but the reality was too frightening."

Odo started to speak and stopped. "So, he plays those games with you, but with Garak--"

Nerys nodded. "He won't let Garak tie him up or beat him, although Garak often holds him down. With me, he knows there's a limit to what will happen. He knows I won't go too far, but he can't trust Garak past a certain point. Just the thought that Garak wants to own him is a thrill, but..."

"A thrill he acts out later with you," Odo finished disgustedly. "How can you stand to be a part of that?"

Nerys released Odo's arms and walked over to the replicator, where she stood for a moment thinking. "I don't know," she said, sending him an open look, "but I am. At first, I hoped that if Julian got what he wanted with me, he'd give up seeing Garak. That didn't happen. But now I enjoy it too much to give it up. In a way, it's my revenge on Garak--that I can have everything he wants and can't have. Of course, if Garak ever found out, he'd be furious at Julian. I don't know what he'd do."

Odo looked petulant. "Right now I'm furious with Julian, and I don't know what I'll do."

"Odo," Nerys said coaxingly, turning to reach for him.

"Leave me alone!" He dissolved through the floor so quickly it left her stunned.

Odo flowed through places in the station that no humanoid had ever gone, pushing his liquid body through grills and crevasses, rolling and flowing and crawling silently through the dark, forgotten spaces. When, hours later, his reserve of energy almost spent, he emerged as a liquid pillar from the Promenade floor, he took some small satisfaction in startling a few late- night revelers from Quark's. Before his body had fully reformed, he was striding towards Garak's shop. The Cardassian tailor was just leaving, setting the voicelock behind him.

"Garak," Odo said, only realizing when he spoke how much anguish rang out in his voice.

"Odo," Garak replied mildly, "is there something I can help you with?"

"I..." Odo began uncertainly, "I need to talk with you."

"That can be arranged," the tailor answered graciously as his sharp, blue eyes scrutinized Odo's face. "Would you care to come to my quarters?"

"No. The Security Office." In his exhausted state he didn't want to be too far from his bucket.

Garak froze for a few seconds. "This isn't an official interrogation, is it?"

"No, something personal."

"I see." Although Odo couldn't have said why, he knew that the Cardassian had relaxed his guard just slightly.

They walked in silence to the Security Office as Odo tried to sort out his chaotic thoughts. Somehow it seemed desperately important that he tell Garak what he had discovered about Kira and Bashir. He kept imagining Garak's fury, hoping it would make him give up Julian. That was the outcome he desired with every ounce of feeling in his body--to have Julian back again, safe from Garak's influence. They reached the office, and Odo sat behind the desk, offering Garak a chair.

"You'll ruin my reputation," Garak remarked with a smile.

"No one could ever think I would have sex with you!" Odo sputtered in outrage.

Garak looked mildly surprised. "I meant that some of my acquaintances might think I had turned informer. And don't worry--I don't have much interest in you either, Constable, as I generally prefer flesh and blood lovers. No offense."

Odo calmed himself with an effort. "None taken," he said gruffly. "Glad to hear it."

Garak sat forward and leaned his elbows on the desk, a mannerism that Odo detested. "Now, Constable. It's been a long day, and I'd like to go to my quarters. Why have you lured me here, hmmm?"

"Kira and Bashir are doing things that you don't know about," Odo said in a low voice.

Garak frowned and looked suddenly intent. "I'm sure they are, but to which things do you refer?"

"Bondage games." Odo could hardly get the words out of his simulated throat.

"The Major and... Julian play bondage games?" Garak asked incredulously. His already grey skin had taken on a blue tinge.

"They have whips and..." Odo couldn't go on with his description. "I want you to stop it," he said somewhat more firmly.

"How can I stop it?" Garak retorted with barely controlled rage. "You're the station Security Officer, why don't you stop it?" As he rose from his seat, his fists were clenched hard. "Thank you, Odo, for this information," he said stiffly in a voice trembling with emotion. "I owe you something."

"What are you going to do?" Odo cried, rising to follow him.

Garak turned at the door. His face had stiffened into a frightening mask of hurt and anger. "I'm going to see him. I'm going to find out what he really wants."

When Garak had left, Odo was even more confused than before. He was tired and weak from holding this shape, so tired... But what did Garak intend to do? Instead of giving Julian up, would he hurt him? Maybe Julian liked to be hurt--maybe he deserved it. Whatever happened was all Julian's fault. Angry with himself, Odo rejected those thoughts. Maybe, after a confrontation with Julian, Garak would finally, definitively, leave him alone.

No, wait! He had to protect Julian from Garak! After all, he'd upset the uneasy truce between them.

But as his thoughts continued to run, Odo found he could do no more than dissolve exhaustedly into his bucket.

Julian lay on Nerys's bed reading a book of Bajoran love poetry she'd left for him. If truth be told, he was doing much more yawning and rubbing of his eyes than reading. It was very late, nearly time for Kira to get off swing shift. He'd promised to wait up for her, but now he wondered if he'd be able to stay awake. It had been his day off, and he'd slept nearly the whole day, but still... It must be the poetry.

He closed the book and glanced ruefully at its jacket. The first couple of poems had been all right, but after that they'd all started sounding the same. He guessed he just had no feeling for poetry. Kira quoted this stuff all the time, while he couldn't even remember more than a line or two from the most famous Federation poets. He closed his eyes and considered. Snippets of verse floated into his tired mind from the ruins of his classical education. "How do I love thee, let me count the..." Let me count the what? Was that Shakespeare? No, it was a woman whose name escaped him at the moment--Elizabeth something. "Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments..." Now that was Shakespeare. Too bad he hadn't a clue what came next. "Who am I become, O Love, to let thee mold me into another yet not my self? Goddess protect me from my heart's desire." That was the famous Antarean--no, the Denebian- -Med Reuab.

Julian sighed and settled back into the pillows, capitulating to ignorance and sleep. The door slid open, letting in a sudden rush of cooler air.

With the tattered remains of consciousness, Julian forced himself to move over and make room for Kira on the bed. Steps approached him and stopped. Julian dozed lightly, wondering in a half-dream state why Nerys didn't take him into her arms.

"So rare," came an unexpected voice, "and yet, after all, so very common."

Bolting awake, Julian opened his eyes to see Garak standing over him with a savage expression on his face.

"What are you doing here, Garak?" he asked, suddenly afraid.

"Looking for you," the Cardassian said hoarsely. "But, now that I've found your body, do I have any chance of finding out your desires?"

With the magnified certainty of the damned, Julian knew exactly what Garak was talking about. "What are you talking about?" he whispered.

"About you and Major Kira," Garak snarled, bringing his fists up to his own face and shaking them in frustration. "About Julian who doesn't want to be beaten and Kira who doesn't want to see him harmed. About the two of them playing little games with whips while I suffer torments every day because I can't truly make you mine." In one quick movement he knelt beside the bed and pulled Julian into his arms. "Tell me what you've done."

More remorseful than frightened now, Julian told about the silk scarves, the soft whips that didn't leave a mark, the delicious pain that stimulated him one minute and dissipated the next.

Garak listened, calmer now. "But what about your dreams?" he asked. "What do you wish for?" He tightened his embrace.

"For you," Julian faltered. "I want..."

"To be in my hands?" Julian nodded, turning his face away. "To let me punish you?"

"Yes." A small sound, drawn from somewhere deep in his chest.

Cardassian Lessons

(A sequel to _Garak's Revenge_)

(c) by Mary E.

marye@trekfiction.net

Chapter One: A Primer for Julian

As she walked into her quarters, Kira wondered why Julian wasn't there. They were supposed to meet after her shift. If he'd had a medical emergency, he would have left a message on the terminal, but the light wasn't blinking. She checked anyway. Nothing. It looked as if he had indeed been here: a few books were out of place, and a teacup languished upon the nightstand. She could almost make out the imprint of his body in the blankets. But where was he now?

As she began to feel uneasy, her comm badge chirped. "Bashir to Kira," came his soft voice.

"Julian," she answered in relief, "where are you?"

"Nerys, you have to help me." She heard the terror in his voice and felt a shot of adrenalin run through her veins.

"Where are you?" she repeated urgently.

"In Garak's quarters. He's out of the room for the moment, and I managed to reach my comm badge. Hurry, please."

"I'll be right there." Kira left the room and sprinted down the habitat ring.

The door of Garak's quarters slid open to Nerys's security override. She walked in quickly, letting it shut behind her.

"Computer, secure door. Voicelock Kira, code 83-zeta."

Garak emerged from the other room. "You took the words right out of my mouth, Major," he said smoothly.

"I wouldn't want anyone else to see...this," she retorted angrily, still stunned by the sight herself.

Julian was on all fours, completely naked, chained to the bed. The thick, leather cuffs on his wrists were attached by short chains to the base of the headboard, but the chains attached to his ankle cuffs were longer, clanking against the sides of the bed whenever he moved. Not that he could move very far: the short chains kept him from sitting up or raising his head. He turned his face sideways to look at Kira with the expression of a cornered animal. With a flash of anger, she saw that he wore a thick leather collar buckled tightly around his neck. A lead attached the front of the collar to the headboard, preventing him from lying down. As he shifted around nervously, trying to find a comfortable position, the muscles rippled under his rich, caramel skin. His cock was partly erect. A strange tingling began in Nerys's solar plexus, and her heartbeat increased. A chill seemed to pass through her body, making her nipples constrict and her vagina feel suddenly wet.

Garak gazed down at Julian, shaking his head. "So, my young friend, you called for help." He frowned at the crumpled uniform with the exposed comm badge that Julian must have been able to touch with one foot. "I don't think I'll ever understand you."

Stepping behind the helpless doctor, Garak assumed the classic posture of a torturer: standing with his legs apart, he held a whip with which he lightly teased Julian's back and legs. The Cardassian was naked from the waist up and wore no shoes. His huge erection strained at the flimsy fabric of the loose black pants that tied at his waist.

"Lovely, isn't he?" Garak said proudly. "Although you weren't invited, I'm glad you arrived before I started his punishment."

"Why do you want to punish him?" Kira asked cautiously, trying to keep her eyes on Garak when they kept being drawn back to Julian.

Garak laughed openly. "Because I heard that you've been doing it, Major. All this time, he's been telling me that he didn't like this sort of thing. And now I find that he's been begging you to whip him and lying about it when he came to me for a thrill of danger. But you haven't been doing a very good job. I thought I'd show you both how it ought to be done."

"It's none of your business what we do," Nerys began, wondering how to answer him.

"Ah, but it is. I've been depriving myself, repressing my desires and instincts out of consideration for his delicacy," Garak said sarcastically, "and now I discover that the two of you have been playing out your safe little scenes behind my back, hoping that I'll control myself out of fear of losing him." With satisfaction, he weighed the whip in one hand and then the other. "No one takes the bread out of my mouth," he said solemnly.

He ran the multi-headed whip up through Julian's cleft and then down between his legs to tease his scrotum. Kira noticed that the lashes were much heavier than anything she had ever wielded against Julian. She thought of the time she had lost her temper and whipped Garak until he came. This could be the very same whip. The wetness grew between Kira's legs. She started to have trouble focussing her anger on Garak without also picturing herself flogging him. She drew her phaser.

"Put the whip on the bed, Garak, and go over to the table," she ordered.

Garak looked at her in surprise. "But I thought you'd enjoy this, Major. In fact, Julian thought you might enjoy it, too, didn't you, Julian?" The doctor didn't answer; his chains clanked as he pulled at his leash like a high-strung animal.

Kira followed Garak cautiously to the table, picking up a Star Fleet restraint out of a box of implements on the way. "Put your hands around the table leg, and then lock yourself into this." Garak complied silently. Kira checked the lock and shook the table just to make sure it was securely bolted to the floor. She walked back to Julian, clipping her phaser to her belt. Squatting by the table, Garak watched her with bright, interested eyes.

"Now, what, Major?" he asked blithely. "Are you going to break up the party? What a pity."

Picking up the whip, she turned threateningly towards him. "It was Odo, wasn't it?" she said angrily. "I don't know what he told you, Garak, but--"

"Odo?" Garak scoffed. "Odo gave me only the merest hint of what was going on. The details came from Julian."

Kira looked at the doctor, who still hadn't said a word. "Julian?" she asked, kneeling by the bed to look up into his face, "is that true?"

"Yes," he admitted painfully, turning his head away.

She grasped his collar and pulled his face back to hers. "Why? Why would you tell him?"

"When he said that he knew about our games, it came pouring out. I've felt guilty keeping it from him all this time. And I thought I'd changed my mind about doing what he wanted--I came here with him willingly. But now I don't want it," he cried. "I don't know why I told him!"

Kira thrust the knotted whip into his sight. "Look, Julian, do you see this whip? Do you remember how it felt the last time Garak used it on you? Do you have any idea of what it's going to do to your skin?"

He looked at her, confused. "You mean, you're going to let him beat me?" he asked fearfully. "Please don't, Nerys."

"No," Kira said firmly, with flashing eyes. "No, I'm going to beat you myself." She stood and unhooked his leash from the headboard before walking behind him to contemplate his trembling back.

Julian closed his eyes to wait for the first blow. It seemed liked minutes since Nerys had left his sight. What was she waiting for? Maybe she really wasn't going to beat him after all. A twinge of disappointment stabbed through his fear. Was he insane? Why did he--

The first blow struck his ass, and the second, just after, sliced across the backs of his legs. He cried out as his trembling wrists gave way so that his forearms were flat on the bed and his face was buried in the sheets between them. Since he was still on his knees, his ass was well exposed. The lash stung it again, and, with the next blow, he felt the welts began to rise in stinging rows down the backs of his thighs. A blow smacked across his shoulders, then another, making him writhe into the sheets. He sucked his breath in sharply and waited for the next stroke, knowing it would do no good to beg her to stop this early. But how many blows could he stand before the endorphins kicked in? Ten minutes worth, ten minutes that would seem like an hour...

From his low vantage point, Garak could see Julian's face clearly, but he had a less than perfect view of his scourged flesh. From what he could see, though, Major Kira was laying the lashes on efficiently to thoroughly cover every exposed bit of skin on Bashir's thighs, ass, back and shoulders. The welts made a diamond pattern as she overlaid them at various angles.

And, gods, how lovely Julian looked! Pale, and trembling with pain and exhaustion, of course, but tense with pleasure, too! His face was beatific as he concentrated on the pain with closed eyes, moaning softly between strokes and whimpering as each one bit into his flesh. His knees had finally buckled so that his legs were folded beneath his body; he looked like a hermit at his devotions. But Garak could still see enough to know that the doctor's penis was stiff with desire. The Cardassian's own cock was painfully erect. He knew that Kira planned to exclude him from the banquet, but he didn't intend to be denied this time. Tearing his eyes away from Julian's radiant martyrdom, he started to work on the lock.

As she laid stripe after stripe on Julian's back, Kira fumed at the idea that he would tell Garak about their intimate actions, their private games. Julian had flirted long enough with pain. Here was some real pain--how would he like it? She'd let him see what it was really like to get the whipping he'd dreamed of for so long. This was what he had said he was trying to avoid from Garak, but the possibility of it had always given him a thrill. Now he had asked for it and then begged to be excused. He wasn't begging now, though; he was taking her steady blows without protest. She heard his moans and considered his back, which was thoroughly crossed with stripes. Her groin felt tight and hot, and her vagina ached with desire. The lashes pattered rhythmically down his back. Her arm dropped another blow on his welt-covered ass. Julian whimpered pitifully, and suddenly she saw that he was weeping softly into the sheets. The sight touched her heart, abruptly cooling her anger. This was her Julian curled up helpless before her, covered with bloody stripes, and she was beating him as mercilessly as Garak would have done. What had happened to her? She threw down the whip and knelt beside the bed, brushing back the hair from Julian's tear-streaked face.

"I'm yours," he sobbed. "Nerys, I'm your slave."

"Julian, oh, Julian, I'm sorry," she murmured, taking his face into her hands and kissing the tears away.

He said something so faintly that she had to ask him to repeat it. "I want you," he whispered again, his voice rough with tears. Nerys put her hand under his belly and stroked his aching member, making him groan and nuzzle at her with his dark head. "Please," he insisted urgently, trying to kiss her hands.

Standing, she helped him to rise back to all fours. As he wavered there, she stripped quickly and climbed under him, placing her head beneath his on the damp sheets. He lowered himself unsteadily onto her body and slipped into her at once. The first contact of their genitals was unbearably sweet. As they moved slowly together, their bodies were nearly as slick with sweat as their genitals were with arousal. Nerys felt the room grow dim around her and reached back for Julian's hands. He took her wrists and trapped them with his weight under his cuffed arms. His mouth spoke into hers.

"It's your turn now. You're the slave of your slave."

"Yes," she breathed just before his mouth came down hungrily on hers and he pushed into her harder. She wrapped her legs around his tender back and thought the rest of what she'd been about to say. _I'm being fucked by my slave._ A surge of pleasure captured her. She pulled her mouth from Julian's. "I'm being fucked by my slave," she whispered, and shuddered into waves of perfect delight. With his cock and chest and belly, Julian felt Nerys's body tremble with joy. His back blazed with pain from the whipping that she had given him in anger, and now he plunged into her, holding her immobile with his martyred body. With a cry of desperate bliss, he dissolved into his pleasure, forgetting the beating, the station, the universe--everything except Nerys under him, whose breath he breathed.

"I love you," he said against her lips. She latched her mouth to his.

Neither remembered the tailor, who was observing them with ravenous eyes.

Julian lay on Nerys, panting with exertion. The throbbing of their climaxes was just beginning to fade, but they kissed each other over and over desperately as if they would never have enough. Julian's cock, which was still inside her and hadn't shrunken all that much, began to rise again as Nerys's tongue caressed the roof of his mouth and her wrists strained under his hands. He started to move on her again, and his half-erect cock grew harder with each stroke.

Suddenly, Julian felt hands on the tender skin of his ass, spreading his cleft and pushing cool lubricant into the opening. Before he could react, a bulky finger probed him, glancing off his prostate and causing his erection to swell. He felt the familiar sensation of Garak's massive cock sliding into him, making him cry out involuntarily. Opening her eyes, Kira saw the Cardassian looming over Julian's shoulders just as he grabbed her ankles and snapped the restraint on them.

"Garak!" she said angrily. "Let go of me!"

"Just keep doing what you're doing, Major," he said with aplomb, smiling lustfully as he drove into Julian at the same rate Julian was driving into her, but timing his thrusts to coincide with each withdrawal. With one hand he held her bound legs over Julian's raw back, while with the other, he reached down between Julian's legs and touched their joined bodies, rubbing his hand up and down Julian's shaft and running a finger along the edge of Nerys's open vagina to her cleft.

"Stop it!" she yelled, struggling against Julian's weight. "Julian, stop moving!" But Bashir was in the grip of powerful sensations, and his only response was to capture her mouth again and thrust into her harder. Garak pushed her legs up higher and began to stroke her cleft, pressing his fingers gradually further inside using moisture from Nerys's own body. He probed her deeply, stretching her open with three of his massive fingers. With a satisfied grunt, he ejaculated for the first time without missing a beat.

Despite her furious struggles--or maybe because of them-- Nerys felt herself growing more and more aroused. She sucked angrily at Julian's tongue, catching glimpses of Garak's passionate expression over Bashir's shoulders. Passionate-- Garak? Although he'd pursued Julian through thick and thin, she'd never thought of the Cardassian that way. Now, with a flash of humiliation, she saw his quizzical eyes on her and felt his fingers rhythmically probing her body, conspiring with Julian's cock to bring her to orgasm. She closed her eyes and died to the world, thrusting as well as she could in her unstable position against Julian and Garak both, hearing her own uninhibited voice shouting inarticulate sounds as her climaxes multiplied.

As her last volley of spasms faded, she heard Garak exclaim with pleasure again. Julian smiled into her face, his eyes glazed over with lust. He began to sigh deep in his throat, and the sigh grew louder and louder as he approached release. He laid his cheek against hers.

"I'm your slave," he murmured as he felt all the pleasures and pains of the last hours build and then explode into a storm of bliss. He moaned and sighed and caught his breath as Garak pounded into him a few more times and then exhaled violently, pressing his hard body against the raw welts on Julian's ass.

Their bodies lingered together for a few moments as their breathing slowed before Garak pulled his fingers out of Kira and his cock out of Julian. He snapped open the restraint. The doctor released Nerys's arms and rolled partly off her. She slipped out from under and lay next to him on the bed rubbing her wrists. No one spoke. Garak walked to Nerys's side and stood looking down at the two of them.

"I must say," he said finally, "I'm glad the good doctor invited you, Major."

She stifled the nasty retort that came to her lips, realizing that she couldn't very well say she was sorry to be there without looking ridiculous. She settled for an angry glance and started unbuckling the thick cuffs at Julian's wrists and throat. In fact, she couldn't be all that angry at the Cardassian. Of course he had planned to give Julian a whipping, but she herself had actually administered it. Instead of releasing Julian when she had the chance, she had beaten him badly and then ended up fucking him in a threesome with Garak. Nothing had gone as she had planned. She looked with concern at the welts on Julian's back. Some had drawn blood along most of their length.

"Is your kit here?" she asked when she had finally removed the cuffs from his wrists and neck. Garak was undoing the ones on his ankles.

Bashir gestured to a chair by the door. "Over there. Bring the tricorder, too."

Kira returned with the equipment and, under Bashir's instructions, ran the medilyzer slowly over every inch of his welt-covered skin. She felt amazed and guilty to see how much damage she had done. Garak stood by silently and watched.

"Now what?" Kira asked when the last welt had been lightly sealed.

"Now set it on level four and do it again," Julian sighed.

Garak moved to Nerys's side. "I'd like to do that if you don't mind, Major."

She looked at him in astonishment. "Why?"

He knelt beside her and took the medilyzer from her unresisting hand. "You really haven't noticed, have you, Major? I care for him, too."

Kira sat back on her heels and watched as Garak tenderly ran his hand over Julian's ass before following it with the medilyzer. The three of them fell into an almost companionable silence as Garak continued to heal Julian's wounds.

"How did you get out of the restraint?" Kira asked suddenly.

Garak laughed. "One night, a few months ago, Julian taught me a valuable lesson. If you have a Star Fleet restraint in your possession, it's advisable to rig it for easy opening. You never know when someone might change the code and use it on you."

Kira was surprised to find herself laughing and feeling a wary kinship with the tailor. "I never believed that you really cared for him," she admitted. "I thought that if you wanted to hurt him, then you couldn't possibly--" Her words trailed off as she realized what she was saying.

"Then I couldn't possibly love him," Garak finished for her.

"Yes," she acknowledged.

"Do you love him, Major?" Garak spared her a quick appraising glance before turning back to the medilyzer.

"Yes," she repeated in a whisper.

Julian raised his head. "I'd never beat you like that," he said with a hurt expression. "So how could you do it to me?"

Kira hardly hesitated. "You like it," she said. "I get turned on by being tied down, but not by so much pain." She paused as if weighing her next words. "You're addicted to it."

"Nonsense. You just have a Cardassian soul, doctor," Garak said, smiling.

Bashir frowned. "Saying I'm addicted to it is just an excuse. You enjoyed doing it or you couldn't have gone on so long. And you were as turned on as I was at the end."

Fighting down a flash of anger, Kira had to admit that some of his words were true. "I was upset," she said slowly. "The sight of you chained to the bed like that was such a shock..." She shifted her position on the floor and glanced quickly at Garak's intent face.

"A shock, Major?" he inquired, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Yes, a shock!" she exploded. "He looked trapped! He reminded me of the Palfin goats that Cardassian hunters used to stake out to attract the saw-toothed--" An idea struck her suddenly, and her eyes narrowed as she stared at Garak's placid smile. "You lured me here, didn't you?" she growled.

Garak shrugged with amusement. "Not directly. I thought I'd place his comm badge within the good doctor's reach and leave it up to him. Half of me knew he'd summon you if he could, but the other half hoped against hope that maybe, just maybe, he had decided to rise to my desires." He shook his head and sighed theatrically. "But I suppose I'm just an incurable romantic."

Kira leapt to her feet and looked down at Garak with contempt. "You told Odo that you wouldn't interfere with us, but ever since Julian started seeing you again, I keep feeling that Odo and I are being manipulated in a contest for his affection. Odo feels it, too. It's infuriating."

Garak looked annoyed. "I didn't interfere until I realized I was being used. Julian liked to dream about letting me stop restraining myself with him, but he didn't want to take the risk. And I've just started wondering whether you and Odo would like to go further with him, too. I suspect I have my answer in your case, Major."

"Odo wouldn't hurt me," Julian protested.

Garak shook his head as he turned off the medilyzer. "That all depends on how jealous he gets. You already know that Odo told me about your duplicity. He didn't know what would happen, but I'm sure he could see how angry I was, and he might have guessed I'd want to beat you. I don't see him here protecting you."

"What's going on?" Julian groaned. "Why does everyone I love want to hurt me?"

"If we do, Julian, maybe you should ask yourself why you've been asking us to do it," Kira snapped.

Without answering, Julian rested his tousled head on his arms. "I want to be with all of you," he said in a muffled voice.

"We don't all want to be with each other," Kira said disagreeably.

"That wasn't so bad, just now, was it?" Garak asked in mock surprise. "I thought we got on rather well."

"At the expense of my back," Julian said resentfully. "I liked the games we were playing before, but this was too much. All right, I admit I was fascinated by the thought of a real whipping. And now I know it was too painful. I guess I've learned something." He turned over and sat up gingerly.

"You'll want a real whipping again some day, believe me, and doubtless you'll deserve one," said Garak, rising off the floor and putting the medical kit on the bed. "And when you do--"

"He just said he wouldn't," Kira countered angrily.

"But I know better," Garak smiled.

Cardassian Lessons

(A Sequel to _Garak's Revenge_)

(c) 1995 by Mary E.

marye@trekfiction.net

Chapter Two: Some People Never Learn

The young Dr. Bashir felt a little stiff in all his joints when he awoke the next morning in Kira's bed. Nerys had entwined her arms and legs around his chest and thighs, effectively immobilizing him, although his lower back ached and he longed to stretch it. Slowly, without awakening her, he tried to disentangle himself while he gradually remembered the events of the night before.

He had expected to get a beating from Garak, but... Expected it? He had asked for it! But then, as the fatal moment approached, he had tried to talk his way out of it. He'd known that Garak wouldn't let him go, but, surprisingly enough, Nerys hadn't, either. And the truly astonishing thing was how much he'd enjoyed it. Not in the usual sense that he enjoyed things-- his suffering had been too intense for that--between the pain of the beating and the humiliation of his complete subjugation. But those very same elements had conspired to stimulate him to a point beyond pride, beyond identity. A point where he had told Nerys she owned him, where he had begged her to let him have her, nuzzled his face against her in desperation, where she could have made him do or say anything to gain a promise of release.

What was wrong with him? A few months ago, he had never even thought of any of these things he was doing now. From a secret enjoyment of being controlled--when Odo held him down--had come a pleasure in being immobilized and used by Garak and now a deep, physical satisfaction from being beaten by Nerys.

Why did pain and abjection excite him so? What real or imagined crime was he expiating by giving himself up to be punished? When it came to his patients, Bashir was usually a passable psychologist, but at the moment his own motivations escaped him.

Responding to Julian's withdrawal, Nerys sighed in her sleep and rolled over onto her back. Her thigh rubbed against his half-erection, combining with his thoughts to make it stand up stiffly. After his ordeal of the night before, he seemed more, not less, responsive to her touch. A wave of humiliation and excitement rushed through him. Ignoring the pain in his joints and back, he reached out for her, rolling her over on top of him.

"Julian," she murmured, waking up. As she tilted her pelvis and pressed her vulva hard against him he could feel her arousal. She raised herself off his body and he slipped into her before turning her over and starting to push firmly into her. He held her hands together above her head.

"I owe you something for last night," he whispered, as a thrill passed through him.

Her expression told him that she agreed completely as she swiveled her hips to accommodate him. He pushed hard into her and rotated his pelvis, making her squirm under him. With his mouth he reached down and took one nipple gently between his teeth and caressed it with his tongue. She shivered harder with each stroke until she closed her eyes and erupted into orgasm as he continued to push himself into her. His body was warming now, the pain in his joints loosening as his muscles stretched and tensed over Nerys's straining body. After licking both of her nipples, he dabbed his tongue gently over the hollow under her arm, teasing the thin hair and the sensitive skin until moving to her neck, sucking and biting as he went.

He sucked hard on a bit of skin between her shoulder and neck, knowing he was marking her and finding an intensity of pleasure in the fact that launched him into bliss. As they lay still, their skin cooling, Nerys put her hand up to the spot and smiled with mock severity.

"That had better not show over my uniform, Julian."

"If it does, I can always heal it," he murmured, thinking of how Nerys and Garak had healed him the night before. But his wounds had been much worse than a love bite. He pushed his body off her.

"Is it time to get up?" Nerys asked, stretching.

"No."

Something in his tone made her look at him. "What's the matter?"

Julian stood over her, his face a picture of confusion. He was naked and sweaty, with dishevelled hair. He looked as if he hadn't slept in a week. "I need some time..." he said softly.

Nerys sat up. "What do you mean?"

He passed a hand through his hair and closed his eyes for a moment. He opened them. "I'm not going to see you for a while."

"But, why? Julian, it wasn't all my fault! Garak--"

"I'm not going to see any of you for a while," he said harshly. "Odo included. I'm tired of being used. And don't tell me I ask for it! I know that. I'm tired of wanting to be used. I'm tired of not knowing what I want." He sat down on the bed with his head bowed and folded his arms against his thin body. He looked on the verge of tears, and Nerys repressed the urge to put her arms around him, knowing her touch would not be welcome now. "I'm tired," he said simply. "It's not that I don't care for you all--you know I do. I just need some time away from all this." Julian looked at her with pleading eyes. "You understand, don't you, Nerys?"

She watched him for a moment before answering, trying to plumb the depths of pain in his eyes. "I think so," she said simply. "Take as much time as you need, Julian."

He was accused of some crime he had forgotten committing, and he couldn't remember what it was. All he knew was that the sentence was death by flogging. When he asked the people around him what he'd done, they shrank from him, unwilling or unable to answer. Somehow, he'd been summoned to an enormous castle on a hill where he was completely unable to find the courtroom or the attorney assigned to him. When the time allotted for finding them was up, he found himself standing in a long stone corridor that led from light into inky darkness. A liquid rush made him turn to see Kira, Odo, and Garak materialize from the floor as if they were all shape shifters.

"Oh, thank god," he exclaimed, "you've found me."

They stood stark still, staring at him accusingly.

"What have I done?" he gasped.

"Sentence was passed while you were hiding here," Kira said emotionlessly. "We will administer the punishment immediately."

He howled with fear as his executioners carried him in a great, surging wave towards the dark end of the corridor.

Bashir started from a sound sleep as he heard Sisko's voice ring out into his darkened bedroom. "Sisko to senior staff. There will be a meeting in Ops in 30 minutes."

He acknowledged the summons and got up awkwardly to make his way to the bathroom. Another bad night, filled with dreams of guilt and punishment. Why was this happening? He thought he'd feel better sleeping alone for a while, but after three weeks he was almost ready to go to Kira or Odo and ask them to spend the night with him just to hear a friendly voice, and especially to feel a friendly touch. But they were the ones punishing him in the dreams...

Maybe his unconscious was trying to tell him something about what a close call he'd had. Maybe if he stuck it out a little longer he'd start to feel more like himself and less like someone's helpless pawn. He turned the hot water on hard and stood under it with closed eyes.

Sisko glanced critically at the five officers assembled before his desk. Bashir's eyes were surrounded by dark circles and his expression shifted as thoughts rippled through his mind, at times reflecting a sharp anguish that Sisko was disturbed to see. Nerys looked tired, too. Her jaw was set in a stiff line that could have denoted anger or remorse, and she glanced often at Julian. Odo seemed shorter than usual lately, and he seemed to be avoiding Bashir and Kira. Dax, although apparently her usual cool self, seemed alert and watchful, dividing her attention among her three friends. O'Brien sat waiting, arms folded, mind obviously on his work. At least someone was acting like his usual self. Sisko sighed. He wondered if Bashir were having personal problems of some sort. He'd ask Dax about it later.

"I've called this meeting because we're going to have some unscheduled visitors to the station for the next few days," Sisko began.

"Who?" Odo asked suspiciously.

"An old friend: Gul Dukat," Sisko answered quickly, smiling at Odo's tone.

"Dukat?" Kira repeated, surprised. "I haven't seen him since the old security system was activated and he tried to take over the station. I'm amazed he has the nerve to--"

"Major," Sisko interrupted, "he's been assigned to deliver the first shipment of war compensation to the station. I've promised that we'll audit the material before we pass it on to the Bajoran provisional government so that there will be no misunderstandings."

"Who'll do the audit?" Dax asked practically.

"I'm asking Dr. Bashir to coordinate it," Sisko replied, glancing at him, "since the first shipment is all medical supplies." He noted with concern that Bashir flinched and flared his nostrils like a high-strung horse when he heard his name.

"How much material is being delivered?" the doctor managed to ask.

"We're not sure." Sisko observed the young doctor over his steepled fingers. "That's one reason we need to audit it. I'm not even sure that all of it is useable. The Cardassians might have picked supplies randomly out of their stores without checking to see if they were still useful. We need to do spot checks to see if any of it is spoiled. And we need to do it quickly, since Gul Dukat is required by the treaty to stay on the station until the Bajoran government accepts the material. I don't want the audit to take more than a couple of days."

Bashir nodded, seeming more like himself now that the discussion had turned practical. "My day is nearly clear. When do they arrive?"

"In about two hours," Sisko replied.

"But, Commander," Odo said angrily, "how am I supposed to make security arrangements when--"

"I know, Constable, I know," Sisko interrupted, "but the provisional government only notified me less than an hour ago that this was happening. We'll just have to do the best we can."

"How many Cardassians will be staying on the station?" Odo asked, looking as annoyed as ever.

"I've asked Dukat to limit the overnight party to himself and a lieutenant. He agreed."

Odo looked somewhat mollified. "As long as the rest of the crew goes back to the ship every night when Quark's closes..."

"That's what he agreed to." Sisko shrugged. "Of course, you'll probably have the task of herding them back to their ship every night, but I'm sure you can handle that, Constable. Any more questions?" No one breathed. "Then I suggest that we all start our work. We're going to have a busy couple of days."

As Julian walked out of Sisko's office into Ops, he felt a gentle touch on his arm that made him start in surprise. When he saw that it was Dax, looking at him with concern, he stopped and tried to appear at ease.

"Sorry, Jadzia. You startled me," he said, hearing the tightness in his own voice.

"You left so fast, Julian," she said, looking at him strangely. "I wondered if you could have dinner with me tonight." Despite his desire to seem relaxed, Julian felt himself begin to tremble slightly. "Julian," she said, peering into his eyes, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said. "Nothing. I just have to get to work." She frowned after him as he retreated to the lift. Somehow, she resolved, she'd get to the bottom of this.

Julian hadn't quite finished clearing the quarantine room when Gul Dukat and his lieutenant arrived in the infirmary. Bashir pushed the last bed over to one side and hoped that there'd be enough room for the first batch of containers. As he had feared, they were of the clunky Cardassian variety, each taking two antigravs and two men to maneuver into place. Dukat was above helping, of course, so he stood with folded arms as Julian guided the Cardassian soldiers back and forth with their burdens. Dukat's young lieutenant gave a few sharp orders when the soldiers didn't respond quickly enough to Bashir's soft voice.

She was tall--at least an inch or two taller than Julian-- and wore her hair long, tied loosely behind her neck and cascading down to the center of her back. Bashir had never thought much one way or another about Cardassian hair. As he admired her velvety abundance, he remembered how stiff Garak's shining hair had felt in his hands. He shuddered as Denona glanced at him before turning back to the soldiers she was directing. Her face was striking for its contrasts: heart-shaped and outlined by graceful whorls of cartilage, with indigo-blue eyes against her stark grey skin. Her lips were full and curled easily into an ironic smile that sharpened her serious expression into a look of dangerous intelligence. Julian envied her for looking completely relaxed in her position of authority. The soldiers obeyed her without question.

Eventually, Dukat drifted away to stand on the Promenade, conspicuously enjoying watching the passers-by and showing himself to them. When the first batch of containers had been delivered and the infirmary was full, Julian found himself alone in the quarantine room doing a cursory inventory with Lieutenant Denona. Picking up his tricorder, he scanned the containers one at a time, gradually working his way from one end of the tiny room to the other. When he was done here, he'd scan the ones in the main infirmary, and then he'd do the visual spot checks. Then these could be loaded on a Bajoran cargo transport, while another batch of containers would be brought in to replace these. In all, there would be four batches.

The first five containers seemed to be full of bandages or cloth and disinfectant. Bashir turned his tricorder on the last container, pushed all the way in the corner next to the only remaining bed. He heard the young Cardassian breathe in sharply and knew she was about to speak.

"You are Chief Medical Office here." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes," Julian said simply, without turning away from his tricorder.

"But you are hardly older than I am." There was regret in the young soldier's voice.

Julian turned to face her. "I had advantages," he said kindly. "And, anyway, I'm a lieutenant, too." Although he had no idea whether the ranks were equivalent, he thought that he ought to say something encouraging. He changed a setting on his tricorder and frowned. "There's something strange here," he said slowly. "I seem to be reading--"

Denona spoke quickly. "And yet you are Garak's slave."

Julian blanched and nearly dropped his tricorder. "No," he said quickly, "I'm not his slave. What makes you think that?"

His companion shrugged, amused by Julian's defensive tone. "I know what it's like," she said with a small, wry smile. "I'm not Dukat's slave, either, except when I'm chained to his bed."

Julian considered his possible responses. _I've never been chained to Garak's bed._ A lie. _I never said that I was his slave even then._ True, as far as it went, but too revealing. He settled for an equivocation. "The Federation doesn't allow slavery," he said piously, blushing over his readout.

Denona laughed. "You know as well as I do that there are no real slaves on Cardassia, either. I don't fetch and carry for my master, but I serve his power, and he protects me. What puzzles me about your case is that you actually possess more authority than Garak. So it's of no advantage to you to give yourself up to him, except that Garak is...special."

In spite of his desire to seem aloof from this discussion, to concentrate on his work, Julian was riveted to Denona's words. "How so?" he asked with difficulty. "How is Garak special?"

The lieutenant looked puzzled again. "You know that better than I do. He possesses little political power and no authority, but he's physically powerful. He is..." Denona wrinkled his face as she searched for the right word in an unfamiliar language.

"You mean, he's desirable," Julian breathed.

"Exactly." Denona beamed at him. "So is my master, but he also has real power that can help my career. I wonder what you get from Garak, unless--" She looked suddenly uncomfortable. "Unless you enjoy your punishment."

Rough footsteps rang on the infirmary floor. "Denona," Dukat said, "haven't you finished yet?"

"I told her to wait for me," Julian answered tersely, understanding now that Dukat would make the lieutenant pay for any perceived fault. While Dukat stood there impatiently, Bashir went out into the infirmary and finished the inventory with all deliberate speed, resolving to investigate the strange readings later when he was alone. "It should take me 24 hours to check the whole cargo," he announced finally.

"Twenty-four hours?" the Gul repeated incredulously.

"Yes, Dukat," Julian said rudely. "I do still intend to sleep and eat and see my patients, you know."

Dukat narrowed his eyes at Julian's insolence. "Very well, doctor. Lieutenant Denona and I will remain on the station. I'm sure you will inform us if we can be of any assistance."

"I shall," Julian said, feeling strangely liberated by the recklessness of his impudence with the Gul and his talk with the lieutenant. But something about the readings he had gotten from the containers nagged at his mind. Maybe he should go back and check them now...

"Doctor?" Denona was suddenly at his elbow, while Dukat left the infirmary.

"Yes, Lieutenant?" Bashir answered distractedly. "I thought Gul Dukat wanted you to go with him."

"He released me for the moment. I would like to invite you to take a meal with me at your replimat." The invitation was delivered stiffly, but sincerely.

"Thank you, but I..." Bashir wondered what to do. He needed to investigate these bizarre readings, but he knew that Sisko would encourage him to seize every opportunity to improve relations with the Cardassians. If Dukat's aide asked him to lunch, could he really afford to refuse?

He put the tricorder on a carton and suppressed a sigh of frustration. "Thank you, Denona. I'd enjoy that."

As they walked out into the Promenade, Julian noticed that the lunch crowd had nearly dispersed. It was the day that Julian usually lunched with Garak, but he had avoided meeting his erstwhile friend for the last three weeks. Garak turned up stubbornly every week, however, and then sent the doctor a resentful message about his rudeness. By this time of day, Julian hoped, the tailor would have returned to his shop. Dukat had wandered over to stand in the Promenade outside the replimat. He nodded to them as they passed, and Bashir wondered what he might be up to.

With a stab of mingled relief and regret, Julian scanned the tables and saw that Garak wasn't there. But as he stepped up to the replicator with Denona at his side, a familiar figure accosted him.

"Did you forget what day it was, Doctor?" Garak asked sharply from behind his right shoulder.

"No, Garak," Julian replied, hunching his shoulders against the tailor's anger. "I was too busy to meet you." He was counting on Garak's love of secrecy, hoping that the tailor would shrink from making a scene in one of the most public places on the Promenade, and in front of Dukat's aide as well. But Julian guessed wrong.

"I'd appreciate a few minute's notice the next time, doctor," Garak snarled loudly enough to turn a few heads before stalking off down the Promenade towards his shop.

"You see?" Denona whispered as her full lips curled slowly into a smile. "He thinks he owns you."

"I know," Julian said, suddenly forgetting the code for a caesar salad, "but he doesn't. Really, he doesn't." He heard Denona's soft laughter in his ear.

Garak saw Dukat and tried to avoid him just before the Gul stepped out into his path. "So, Garak, I see that the reports of your success with Bashir have been highly exaggerated."

"My friendship with the good doctor is none of your business," Garak growled and kept on going, but Dukat fell easily into step with him. Why today, of all days, when his mounting frustration and rage were barely under wraps, did he have to run into Dukat? Garak tried to relax his face into an impassive mask, without much success.

"Now, I, on the other hand, am assured success with my lovely young lieutenant. Only I have the power to advance her career. So, whether she likes it or not, she comes to my room, allows herself to be mistreated in many delicious ways, and then satisfies me in whatever manner I demand." Dukat looked supremely self-satisfied. Garak increased the pace enough to leave a human behind, but Dukat kept up with him.

"How charming," he commented sarcastically, "and you can always be assured that your success has nothing to do with your person and everything to do with your rank. That will be a comfort to you in your old age."

Dukat laughed loudly, genuinely amused by the outburst he'd been able to provoke from Garak. The exile was certainly not on his game today. "In my old age, I'll be surrounded by as many like her as I desire," Dukat gloated. They reached the tailor's shop, and Garak stopped and turned defensively in the doorway, bringing Dukat up short. "I must admit," the Gul said, as his smile faded just a bit, "I do miss those days when I had to actually convince a young person to service me. But then I sometimes had failures. More or less like yours, but not in the public eye as yours must be, since the creature who's rejecting you is a Star Fleet officer, after all."

Garak fumed visibly. "I won't discuss it with you, Dukat. It's much more complex than you think."

"I'm sure it is," Dukat nodded agreeably, provoking a sharp glance from the tailor.

"He's a worthy challenge," Garak said stiffly, knowing that he should abandon this revealing discussion and retreat to his shop to cool off before he gave Dukat more cause for amusement.

"Have you gotten all the satisfactions from him?" Dukat asked slyly.

"Nearly all," Garak admitted, against his better judgement.

"Nearly all?" Dukat raised an eyebrow. "You astound me, Garak. In the old days, you never settled for less than all. What would you give for a chance to be with a Cardassian again, one who knows how to serve you?"

A sardonic smile twisted Garak's lip. "Are you offering yourself to me, Dukat?"

The gul ignored the insult. "Denona is a good officer, a perfect protege. She follows every order I give not just to the letter, but to the spirit. She reads my intentions, although not my mind. If I were to direct her to go to you--"

Garak's face hardened and his eyes glittered with fury. A couple of prospective customers approached, took a look at his expression, and decided to return later. "I don't need your charity, Dukat," he said softly through clenched teeth.

"Oh, it's not charity, old friend," Dukat exclaimed, allowing his voice to rise just a bit higher than Garak was comfortable with. "It's supposed to be a trade. My aide will give herself to you, and all I want in return is a chance to seduce your doctor."

Garak laughed. "To seduce him? You'd have to take him by force!"

Dukat looked perfectly serious. "But I wouldn't, you see. There'd be no challenge in that. I want to convince him."

Garak thought of the handsome young lieutenant he'd seen earlier. She was about Julian's age, but larger and stronger, well-schooled in all the Cardassian disciplines, including submission. Her bearing was self confident, her facial structure was sharply defined, and the whorls of cartilage on her cheeks set off her bright blue eyes. She reminded Garak a bit of himself in his youth, though the youngster had a longer face and body than he. What would it be like to be with a Cardassian again? Someone who would conspire in her own seduction without all these silly games and recriminations. What would it be like to take a Cardassian body again, to feel hardness against his own instead of this yielding softness in the body and a corresponding hardness of the will, this perverse refusal to submit to power? But Julian... It wouldn't really be a trade. Julian hated Dukat. Dukat would make a pass at him, and the doctor would call Security. Garak's blood began to pound in his ears as he pictured the young Cardassian spread out for his pleasure. After all that Bashir had put him through, he needed to be in control again. He decided to risk it. But he'd keep Dukat waiting a while yet.

"I'll consider it," he said stiffly. "Come back in an hour for my decision." He retired into his shop. Dukat didn't let himself smile until he had reached the replimat.

Jadzia hesitated as she approached Garak's shop. She wasn't completely sure she understood what was going on with Julian, but she could take a pretty good guess that it had something to do with Garak. She'd have to feel her way with him, convince him that she knew more than she really did. And that was a most dangerous game to play with Garak.

As she reached the door, she saw Dukat turning away with the beginnings of a smirk on his face, while Garak withdrew into the shop. She wondered what had made them even want to talk to each other, and decided that it was probably some past issue that she would probably never hear about. She entered the shop, finding Garak sorting belts and scarves from a box.

"Just a moment, Madam," he said, turning. "Ah, Lieutenant, it's you," he said graciously, with a hint of flirtatiousness. Dax enjoyed Garak's cordial irony, and she even appreciated the sharpness beneath it when they occasionally crossed wits. But Julian's well-being was so important that she found herself feeling nervous at facing such a powerful adversary. Returning his greeting, she told herself sternly to calm down and be patient. "I knew you'd come back for that silver gown," Garak said confidentially. "It will suit you to perfection."

"I _would_ like to see it again," Dax began cautiously, finding that she really did, "but I also came here to talk to you about something else."

"Oh?" Jadzia regretted her impatience immediately; now all Garak's senses were on alert.

"First things first," she said with a smile she hoped looked natural. "Where's the dress?"

Giving a short bow, Garak pulled the gown off a nearby rack. It shimmered and flowed like mercury in his hands. Dax caught her breath. She really wanted the dress, and maybe making such a lucrative sale would put Garak in a good mood. She doubted it, though; in her experience, he wasn't really too concerned about latinum as long as he had enough to keep his business going. Neither of them spoke as he showed her to a dressing room. The dress fit her perfectly, caressing her every curve. She swept out of the dressing room with a genuine smile of pleasure on her face.

"You were right, Garak. I'll take it."

"We'll just see about that hem, then," he said, picking up a tape measure. He beamed and nodded at her like a good salesman, but she sensed a reserve, a suspicion, under his enthusiasm. About to re-enter the dressing room, she paused. "Garak?"

"Yes?"

"Have you seen Julian lately?" Since his suspicions were already aroused, she decided that the direct approach was best.

"That all depends on what you mean by 'see,'" he answered, with the beginnings of anger evident in his voice. "I 'saw' him just now in the replimat, but I haven't 'seen' him alone in several weeks. Does that answer your question?"

"Yes and no," she said, wondering whether this was all a tremendous mistake. "I really wanted to know whether you've seen what bad shape he's in since he stopped seeing any of you."

Garak smiled, but it came out as a grimace. "I like to think that he misses my skillful ministrations," he said with false lightness.

Jadzia stepped skillfully around the mine he had laid for her. "I know that something strange happened between you and Julian a few weeks ago, and it involved Nerys and Odo as well."

"Your sources, like your taste in clothes, are impeccable." Garak's eyes had grown hard and steely grey. The hand that held the tape measure shook unevenly. Jadzia knew she didn't have much time before he ended the conversation.

"I'd like to help Julian patch things up with Odo," she said quickly.

Garak laughed unpleasantly. "Why not help him patch them up with me, Lieutenant? Or is Odo safer for our little Julian?" He took a couple of steps towards her and raised the hand holding the tape measure to his face, shaking his fist to emphasize his words. "Believe me, Lieutenant, I know better than any of you what Julian needs. His body speaks to me. In my hands, he reaches heights he'll never know again."

There. It was out in the open now, and Jadzia didn't hesitate. "Maybe you know better than anyone what arouses him, but that's exactly my point. The more he discovers about how he likes to submit to you, the more off balance he becomes." She was mostly guessing, and held her breath waiting for Garak's response.

"He resists," the tailor said simply. "He resists when he knows how much he wants me to own him. For a while I believed all his nonsense about meeting as equals, but that goes against the grain for him as much as it does for me. He'll come back to me. And when he does, I won't disappoint him."

"Garak," she said with a hopeless feeling gathering in her chest, "I know you care for him, and I think you really know what's best for him. Maybe someday he'll be strong enough for you, but right now he needs someone who'll be gentle with him."

"I'm not in the habit of sacrificing what I want to improve life for other beings, even for the sake of restoring the good constable's love life," Garak sneered. "Now, leave the gown in the dressing room. I'll take it up and have it brought to your quarters by tomorrow."

Dax knew he would, too, and that he would adjust the hem to the millimeter without even taking a measurement. Without wasting another word, she went in to change.

Julian had a hard time escaping from Denona, who turned out to be the most sociable Cardassian he'd ever come across. Those strange tricorder readings kept nagging at the back of his mind, and he knew he should get back to them as soon as he could. When he finally managed to excuse himself from Denona and decline all offers of assistance, he slipped back into the quarantine room and took up his tricorder again.

He walked over to the same container he'd checked before. The readings were the same. It looked as if there were traces of deuterium in the bottom of this container, but not in any of the others he'd checked. Since deuterium was resistant to tricorder scans, he wondered whether the trunks were being used to hide something. But what kind of concealed cargo would the Cardassians want to smuggle to Bajor? Wouldn't they be more likely to try to shortchange the provisional government by leaving something out than to given them something valuable enough to be hidden by deuterium? But what if it wasn't valuable? What if it was dangerous?

Bashir had left the quarantine room door open, so he didn't hear Gul Dukat until the Cardassian's hands were on his shoulders. He jumped and tried to turn, but the gul's strong fingers held him fast.

"Dr. Bashir," came the smooth voice in his ear. "I've been looking for you."

Julian managed to pull away and turn to face Dukat with a beating heart. "You knew I'd be here, Dukat. Or don't you think I'm trying my best to get you out of here as soon as possible?" Julian wondered at his own insolence, which didn't seem to be directed at Dukat so much as it was directed at all Cardassians.

Dukat didn't seem to mind; his smile only broadened as he ran his hands along the dusty edge of one container before opening it up.

"What have we here?" he murmured. "Bandages! Ah, a very useful item for skinned Bajoran knees. Bandages and antiseptic for the refugee camps. I'm surprised that you don't just give them some medilyzers, doctor, and save us this ridiculous charade."

"We can't do that," Julian said stiffly.

"Ah, yes, the Prime Directive. Bajor isn't quite part of the Federation yet, is it? All the worse for them." Dukat seemed highly amused by this conversation, and Julian wondered what he really wanted out of it.

"Is there something I can do for you, Dukat?" he asked impatiently. "Because if there isn't, I'd appreciate it if you'd let me get back to my work. That is, unless you want this inventory to take an extra day." He was bluffing; he had given himself plenty of time and would most likely finish early. Now, if only he had time to consider those odd readings...

"Yes, there is something I want," Dukat said, suddenly serious. "There's you, Dr. Bashir."

Julian stared at him with widening eyes. "You must be joking," he said finally, with a hint of anger in his tone. "You just heard about Garak, and--"

"Oh, yes," Dukat said calmly, "I know all about you and my old colleague Garak, and I know what you both want. I know what he wants--a handsome young Cardassian like my lieutenant, who is probably gracing his bed right now."

"No," Julian said as unexpected panic built below his breastbone, "Garak wouldn't--"

"But he would. He accepted my little proposition. He gets Denona, and I get a chance with you."

"Garak traded me for Denona? But he can't. He doesn't own me!" Even as Julian protested, he felt that old arousal build slowly in his groin, compounded of desire and the promise of humiliation. Garak had sold him to Dukat like a slave...

"No," Dukat agreed complacently, taking a casual step forward, then another, "he doesn't own you, and he knows it. But, you see, doctor, he outsmarted himself. He wanted Denona very, very badly. I could see it in his eyes, and Garak doesn't usually let anything show in his eyes. But he thought that I wouldn't be able to get anywhere with you. So when I promised not to rape you--"

"Oh, thank you very much!" Julian sputtered.

"--when I promised not to rape you, he thought he could have his cake and eat it too, as your curious expression goes. He thought you'd be safe from me." Dukat had moved close to Julian, backing him up against the first row of containers. The doctor could feel the warmth radiating from Dukat's grey flesh. "But you aren't safe from me, are you, Dr. Bashir? Because I know what you want from Garak, and I know what he has trouble giving you."

Dukat's body pressed Julian's back into the hard edge of the container as his eyes looked unwaveringly into Julian's. There was a pause, a moment when Bashir could have stopped it--one beat, then another, and Dukat's mouth was bearing down on his. With a shock, he felt his body responding to its first sexual contact in nearly three weeks. He pulled his mouth away.

"No, Dukat, I don't want this," he said, pushing against the hard chest. "Tell Garak that--"

Dukat smiled, his face quite near. "Too late. Garak has probably already begun his session with my beautiful slave. Computer, close door."

"Computer, override--"

By the time the first words were out of Julian's mouth, Dukat had slapped him across the face with a strong hand. "Don't do that, doctor, or I'll break your neck." He watched Julian carefully for a moment as a drop of blood gathered on his split lower lip.

"You promised not to rape me, Dukat," Julian said defiantly, "but that's what you'll have to do. Let me go now and I won't report this to Odo."

"You won't report it! How very generous of you," Dukat laughed. "Report it all you want, doctor. The deed will already be done." Grabbing a box of bandages from the open container, he dragged Julian over to the bed. The doctor struggled and kicked as Dukat forced him down on the bed and straddled his waist. Holding both of Julian's hands in one of his, he put the box of bandages up to his mouth and tore it open with his teeth, gabbing the roll of strong cloth within and using it to bind Julian's hands together to the headboard. Julian pulled against his bonds as hard as he could, stopping only when he realized he was exhausting himself to no purpose but Dukat's amusement. Fear flooded his chest as he watched Dukat consider him thoughtfully.

"It's been a long time since I took a young man," the gul mused. "My taste has run to women lately."

"I thought you had a wife, Dukat," Julian said thickly. His split lip was starting to swell.

Dukat laughed. "And, as you of course don't realize, a happy Cardassian marriage is an open partnership. She also keeps her little slaves, but I don't ask about them and she doesn't ask about mine."

Julian fell silent, wondering at his own responses. His lip and cheek throbbed terribly where Dukat had backhanded him. His wrists were bound tightly enough to hurt, and his hands were starting to tingle. Despite all his discomfort, he was hard with need, pressed up against the space between Dukat's legs as the Cardassian straddled him. He wanted Dukat. How low had he sunk? That very thought sent a thrill through his body.

Garak had sold him to be used like a slave...

"Dukat," he whispered, "let me go."

His captor laughed and opened the fastening of Julian's uniform to reach inside and stroke his chest. "Not a chance, doctor."

"But, if you let me go, I'll--"

"You'll what?" Dukat looked suddenly interested.

"I'll do anything you ask."

"Excuse me, doctor, for not being as subtle as a human, but are you saying you'll serve me?" He raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Yes."

"An interesting idea. Then, strictly speaking, I would even be keeping my promise to Garak, wouldn't I?" He laughed ironically. "It never hurts to avoid trouble when possible. And I would certainly get much more pleasure out of having a willingly slave. Very well, doctor. I must say, I'm pleasantly surprised. But, before I release you, I'd like you to put a security seal on the door."

Julian complied, feeling as he did so that he was indenturing himself to a hard, indifferent master, one who had hurt him once and would do so again, who wanted to use his body-- nothing more. As Dukat removed the bandages from his wrists, Julian nearly whimpered, so strong was his craving to submit. Dukat got up and stood aside to observe him. Julian rose slowly, rubbing the circulation back into his hands. He dabbed carefully at his lip with two fingers, finding that the bleeding had stopped. Garak had never hit him in anger, but had only whipped him once with premeditation, as a deliberate punishment. Dukat's blow had caught him unawares, stopped his voice, mastered him in an instant. His cock throbbed insistently, and the thought of showing it to Dukat filled him with delicious shame. Keeping his eyes on Dukat's, he removed his boots and uniform and tossed them aside. Dukat folded his arms and looked at him approvingly.

"Take off the rest," he ordered.

Julian slipped his black undershirt over his head and threw it on top of his uniform. As he lowered his black briefs, his erection bobbed out, hard and ruby-tipped. Dukat laughed appreciatively. Julian let the briefs fall to his feet and kicked them over to the pile of clothes. When he met Dukat's suddenly harsh glance, he knew exactly what he was meant to do.

He knelt on the hard floor and bowed his head, waiting.

Cardassian Lessons

(A Sequel to _Garak's Revenge_)

(c) 1995 by Mary E.

marye@trekfiction.net

Chapter Three: Love Medicine

As his door slid closed behind the young Cardassian, Garak felt a rush of anticipation. He felt like himself again, facing a soldier who had come to lay her body down willingly, with discipline, instead of an unruly human who was surprised by his own sensations, who never knew what he wanted...

"Kneel." Garak gave the gruff order without warning, but Denona complied as if she'd been expecting it, dropping to the floor instantly and bowing her head to her new master. She didn't speak because she hadn't been told to. Sighing in satisfaction, Garak walked over and grabbed a handful of her hair to pull her head back.

"Look at me," he ordered, and glared into Denona's eyes, scrutinizing them for doubt or fear, but he found only two neutral orbs watching him, two mirrors. "What did Dukat tell you?"

"That I was to come to your quarters and do as I was told," Denona answered evenly in her melodious contralto voice.

"While he did what?" Garak asked with a vicious smile.

"While he attempted to master Dr. Bashir." The eyes remained blank and cool. Garak forced her head back down as a pulse of anxiety passed through his gut. What was Julian doing right now? Would Dukat break his promise? Garak suddenly had an overwhelming urge to shatter this young soldier's self- possession, to see her broken and begging for mercy, or for pleasure, it didn't matter which.

"Does that bother you," he asked cruelly, "that your master wants to fuck someone else?"

Denona smiled, though she kept her head down. "He is the master," she said simply.

"Take off your clothes," Garak ordered, hating the slight tremor of anticipation he detected in his own voice. He released the lieutenant's hair and stood back.

Denona rose smoothly and removed her short boots one at a time. With a steady hand, she released the catches on her armored jacket and swung it off onto a sofa. Underneath she wore a sleeveless black top that revealed her muscular arms with their sinuous lines of cartilage. Her hands swiftly peeled off the tight leather pants and kicked them aside. The undergarment was of a style familiar to Garak, often worn by soldiers under their uniforms. It was all one piece from shoulders to mid-thigh and it clung to her tightly enough to reveal her erect nipples and the bumpy ornamentation of her skin.

She paused, sensing Garak's eyes sweep over her. She was very well trained, Garak thought, rejoicing in his cleverness at getting something for nothing from Dukat. But was the price of this interlude really so low? What was Julian--

He drove the thought form his mind and concentrated on enjoying this moment to the fullest. Who knew when another such opportunity would come his way?

"Remove it," he said curtly.

Pulling the straps over her shoulders, Denona slipped her arms out of the garment before pushing it below her breasts, to her waist, and past her thighs to her ankles and off. She stood still and impassive for Garak's inspection.

Her primary breasts were small and firm and jutted out aggressively from under the thin line of bone that made a shallow "v" across her chest. Their tips were dark grey now, but Garak knew they would turn a deep magenta when properly stimulated. He imagined that they were as exquisitely sensitive as his own had turned out to be under Julian's mouth, but he doubted she knew it. Somewhat smaller, the secondary pair was set a hand's breadth below them. They were tipped with black. Garak smiled. Secondary mammaries were not rare in Cardassian women, and those who had them generally possessed the capacity for multiple births. Too bad that there was no question of that here--he was sure she regularly used a birth control preparation that prevented her from conceiving.

Tracing the contours of her waist with his eyes, Garak noticed that her belly was smooth and that the triangle of black hair between her legs could not hide the rosy lips of her vulva, which were already starting to extrude. He smiled again. She obviously found him at least somewhat attractive, or else it was the situation itself that was exciting her.

"Turn around," he ordered.

His eyes hungrily devoured the lines of her shoulders, noting how the cartilage gave way to the tough and textured hide of her back, which in turn smoothed into the tender but leathery skin of her buttocks. He would have her in every way he could think of before he was through. The last few weeks had been hellish for him--having Julian a few times a week had barely been enough, but losing him completely was pure torment. Garak had built up a reserve of lust and anger that he intended to give free reign. And he was sure that this one could take it, unlike Julian, whose delicate skin and feelings he always had to consider.

"Lie on your back," he said coldly. "Raise your knees as far as they'll go."

Julian watched Dukat's boots come into view and stop before him. A rough hand pulled him by the hair. His neck bent back easily, with no resistance. Although he had no idea what Dukat would do to him, Julian felt strangely calm. He just had to follow orders now. Whatever happened was Garak's responsibility, not his--he was a slave, and Garak had sold him. He burned with the desire to give himself up. His eyes answered Dukat's steely glare expectantly.

"You want to serve me, don't you?" Dukat asked almost indulgently.

"Yes." Picturing Garak's face, Julian imagined his reaction when he found out--his jealousy and surprise, his overwhelming fury, and even his guilt. What would he do? Would he redouble his efforts to make Julian his slave? Would Garak punish him? His body began to tremble slightly.

"Then serve me." When Dukat released his hair, Julian shuffled a little closer on his knees and touched the great bulge straining against the tight leather pants. He stroked it, squeezed it, then undid the clasp and pulled it out, allowing it to assume its full mass. He was used to Garak's thick organ with its ridges and tough skin, so the general form of Dukat's was no surprise, but it was thinner and smaller at the end than Garak's- -more pointed and slightly longer overall. Julian took it into his mouth as far as he could; then, consciously suppressing his gag reflex, he swallowed it to the hilt. Dukat gasped with pleasure.

"I must admit that Garak has trained you well. I'm surprised...doctor. I don't--" He lost the rest of the words in the intense sensations Julian was producing in him. The younger man redoubled his efforts, biting the shaft as he rubbed the tip hard against the back of his throat. Dukat came violently, and waves of bitter Cardassian semen flowed straight down Bashir's throat. He released Dukat's organ and swallowed. Dukat grabbed him under the arms and pulled him easily to his feet.

"What are you getting out of this?" he asked suspiciously. I don't understand you." Without answering, Julian took Dukat's still-hard cock into his hands and rubbed it against his own, which pulsated with desire. Dukat pulled his hands away. "Oh, no, not so fast," he chuckled softly. "If I allow you any pleasure at all, you'll have to earn it, and it won't be this easy."

He pulled Julian back to the bed and laid him over a few pillows. "Open your legs as wide as you can," he ordered. He went around to the head of the bed and pushed his erection towards Julian's face. "Now, make me wet. And do a good job, because it's the only lubrication you're going to get."

Julian's eyes opened wide. "But there's some--"

Dukat raised a hand threateningly, his smile gone. "We're doing this for my enjoyment, not for your comfort. Slave."

Without another word, Julian went to work on the ridged, rock-hard cock. Just as he felt it begin to withdraw, he bore down firmly with his teeth, making Dukat come again. Quickly, he spread the viscous liquid from tip to shaft.

"Very clever, slave," Dukat said appreciatively as he roughly spread Julian open and pushed into him.

The semen was slippery enough, but the lubricant he usually used with Garak was slicker. Julian flinched and let out a small cry of pain as he felt Dukat's hardness open him too quickly and burrow in until his armored body pushed against Julian's pliant ass.

"Quiet, slave. Your job is to take whatever I give you," he said cruelly, and began shoving into Julian's opening. Used to being fucked hard by Garak, Julian soon had to suppress gasps of pleasure. He reached for his own cock again, but Dukat grabbed his wrists and pulled them brutally away. "Not yet, I said," he hissed. "You're my whore. I want you hard until I'm done. Maybe even afterwards. Perhaps I'll tie you up and leave you like this until someone from the station finds you."

Even that threat didn't make Julian's excitement fade. He was moaning and writhing now, unable to hide his frustration. His torment just seemed to drive Dukat to greater heights. With a couple of mighty heaves, he came for a third time. When he pulled out, he rolled Julian over onto his back, pushing his legs up until his knees nearly met his shoulders. He laughed when he saw Julian's cock, which was distended and weeping with need. "I'll take you this way now," he said with a lewd smile, "so that you can see who your master is. And, just so there's no mistake," he said conversationally, as he shoved in again, "who _is_ your master?"

Julian answered with a groan. Dukat's firm belly was rubbing hard against his erection, finally giving him the stimulation he craved.

"I asked you who your master was," Dukat repeated, giving him a shake.

"Not you," Julian said between ragged breaths.

"What?" Dukat looked frankly surprised. "You submit willingly to this treatment and yet you're going to be insolent? Do you want me to punish you? Now, who's your master?"

"Garak," Julian gasped. "He sold me to you. I don't want you, Dukat, except for him."

"But Garak didn't really want me to take you," Dukat whispered with an evil smile, slowing his long strokes and using enough force to make Julian whimper with every one.

"I know!" With a shout, Julian threw back his head and erupted into orgasm, splashing his creamy elixir on their bellies and chests. Overcome by the strong muscular contractions around his cock, Dukat came, too, groaning and gripping Julian's shoulders unbearably hard. He slumped against Julian and laid his forehead briefly against the smooth skin of his neck, and the young man was surprised to see him display weakness even momentarily. Suddenly he pulled out and stuffed his still- swollen organ back into his leather pants and fastened them. He stood there shirtless, and his ornamented skin looked like armor. Julian sat up. They considered each other for a moment.

Dukat laughed softly and shook his head. "Why do I feel as if I'm the one who was taken advantage of here?" he asked, raising one eyebrow ironically. "What kind of nasty game are you and Elim playing?"

Julian shook his head. A lump grew in his throat as all the humiliation of what had just happened to him came rushing into his chest.

"Whatever it is, I almost envy you," Dukat said lightly. "Ah, to be young again." He picked up his armored jacket and slung it easily over his shoulders. Julian watched him glumly. It wasn't Garak's or Dukat's fault that this had happened--it was his own. The gul moved towards the door. "Doctor?" he said. "Are you planning to keep me a prisoner in here?"

"No." Julian picked up his clothes and tossed them into the bathroom. With a few words, he released the security seal and walked into the shower without a backwards glance at Dukat.

"I'm so glad you enjoyed it," Dukat murmured with an ironic laugh, and swaggered out into the infirmary. That ought to keep Bashir from his work for a while. Now it was time to see if Garak had finished with the lovely Denona--or if she had finished with him.

For the first few minutes, Garak enjoyed himself immensely. He entered Denona from the front and pounded into her in a frenzy until he came for the first time, feeling her muscular legs wrapped tightly around his lower back. He nuzzled into her neck and smelled her good Cardassian scent, feeling a little relieved. It frightened him when his sex drive impaired his thinking like that. Since Julian had snubbed him, he'd been walking around the station in a daze, doing all sorts of rash things. He was lucky he hadn't wrung some customer's neck without even realizing it. Feeling close to orgasm again, Garak raised himself on his arms and opened his eyes to observe his new slave.

And her eyes were as blank as two pools of water.

_She doesn't want this!_ a small voice cried somewhere in Garak's mind.

_And what if she doesn't?_ he answered himself. But suddenly, he knew.

He pulled out so swiftly that he provoked a flicker of worry in her blue eyes. She lay still, just as he had left her, being very well trained. Garak stood and watched her for a long while.

"Master?" she said doubtfully. "Have I displeased you?" Her anger smoldered just below the surface of her voice. Garak smiled sadly.

"Yes," he said, looking at the moist opening between her legs. Her labia had opened out like the petals of a flower, and her clitoris showed clearly, but Garak could see that she was only mildly aroused. "You don't want this, do you?"

Taken by surprise, her face clearly expressed her dismay. He heard her voice falter twice before she finally spoke. "No," she said flatly, with a hint of defiance, "I don't want it." Slowly, waiting to be reprimanded, she lowered her legs and sat up. Garak watched her silently.

"A few years ago, that wouldn't have made any difference to me," he said softly, almost as if he were talking to himself. "A few minutes ago, I didn't think it made any difference to me. But it does."

"Why?" she asked, frankly curious.

Garak chuckled. "Because of Dr. Bashir. I tried to make him my slave and he defied me, but I persisted. Somewhere along the way I started caring more about making him want me than forcing him to do what I wanted. But I still wanted to keep him for myself. When I punished him, I tapped into some desire in him for degradation. So he was fighting himself as well as me."

"I was afraid of that," Denona said with genuine concern. "Dukat will use it as you did."

Garak glanced at her sharply. "At one point, Bashir and I were meeting as equals. I taught him some things about pleasure, and he taught me." Relaxing her guard, Denona raised an ironic eyebrow. Garak didn't miss it.

"You might not think that a human could teach one of us anything about pleasure, but he did. He was always so open, so willing to please, so loving..." He trailed off, thinking, and Denona didn't disturb him. He looked up suddenly, as if just remembering her presence. "You may go," he said dismissively.

"Not yet," she countered.

He regarded her in amazement. "There's no trick. I'll tell your master you pleased me in every way. Now, go."

"No," she said in open defiance, standing to face him.

They remained there for a moment. Garak, still clothed, had to tilt his head back slightly to look into the naked Denona's face. Poking out of his unfastened pants, his thick grey cock stood up between them. "What do you want?" Garak asked with ironic interest, his anger fading. "Do you find me attractive?"

She shrugged. "I'm tired of Dukat, of the way he uses me. I've hardly ever shared pleasure with anyone, and not for a long time."

Garak's surprise made him defensive. "I see."

"It would be a good way to repay him for the way he treats me. He'd be furious if anyone gave me more pleasure than he does, but he hardly ever bothers to give me any." Denona smiled. "And I do think you're attractive, but mostly I'm curious to know what Dr. Bashir taught you."

Garak laughed, and his blood began to pulse with arousal once again. "At this moment, I don't think he taught me half enough." Unfastening his shirt, he removed it and threw it aside before lowering his pants.

Denona looked at him in amazement. "I've never seen a master disrobe before sex. Is this what the doctor taught you?"

"No," Garak said, his smile fading, "I've never done this for him, although I think he'd like it. I'm doing it for you." He took her arm gently and led her to the bed. "Lie down. I'll show you something."

She complied slowly, relaxing a bit when she saw him lie next to her instead of pushing between her legs. His fingers trailed over her chest so lightly she could barely feel them, stopping to trace small circles over her steel-grey nipples. His touch was so light that she only gradually realized that each stroke was answered by a burning throb between her legs.

"What are you doing to me?" she gasped.

"Something you'll never be able to do without again," he whispered. He increased the pressure of his hands, rubbing with a circular motion. When she arched her back and let out an audible breath, he replaced his fingers with his mouth.

Her body writhed and bucked under him as he suckled at her breast, feeling the hard skin relax and grow pliant under his lips and tongue. As he shifted his mouth to another breast, his hand moved down to her nether lips, plunging into her liquid heat, and finding the evidence of her excitement, her protruding labia and her clitoris--pulsing, stiff and full five inches long.

Her clit pulsed madly under his skilled fingers as she started to come. His thumb found her slippery opening and felt the rhythm of her pleasure. She grabbed at his hips, urging him to roll on his back. As he did, she rolled with him, engulfing him in her velvet interior. Her muscles writhed around him, sending bolts of heat through his body. Garak dimly realized how being inside her had laid his mind to waste as his nerves thrummed in another orgasm.

Now Garak sat up, pushing her down on her back and following her without withdrawing his cock from her muscular cleft. Her clit throbbed between them. He ground his belly against it and was gratified to hear her cry out in rapture and feel her dig her sharp nails into his backside, nearly sending him over the edge once more. He pulled out of her and moved down her body to take her elongated clit into his mouth, where it pulsed against his tongue, filling his mouth nicely. He sucked it gently, dabbing his tongue around it, then stroking. The stroking seemed to please her better, so he continued, harder and harder, judging her preferences. She slung her legs over his shoulders and dug her heels into his back as she came time and again. With each climax, her cries became less inhibited, more abandoned, and her hands stroked his hair almost tenderly.

"Come here," she gasped at last, and he didn't wait to be invited twice, throwing himself back into her arms and entering her fully in one stroke. While they came together, one last time, Garak felt closer to her than he ever had to any Cardassian lover. As his heartbeat slowed and he held Denona in his arms, he realized that he would always be an exile now. In coming back home, in pleasuring a Cardassian body, he felt himself irrevocably changed. And Julian was the cause. He was sorry and completely contented at once to realize that his feelings for the young doctor had grown so far beyond mere lust. Whatever happened, he was no longer a simple outcast here--but the other face of that coin was the fact that he could never feel truly Cardassian again. He sighed and, to Denona's complete astonishment, placed his lips against hers and kissed her deeply.

Bashir pulled his uniform over his slightly damp skin. A drop of water started down his neck from his wet hair. He fastened his uniform and rubbed the towel over his head again before looking in the mirror to comb his hair. What he saw there made him wince in horror. His face was pasty, and the circles under his eyes stood out starkly. He looked as if he'd lost weight. This had to stop. He needed help.

What had he been doing before Dukat had come to torment him? Those containers... He dressed quickly and walked back out into the quarantine room to look for his tricorder. It was no longer on the container where he had placed it when Dukat had cornered him. Where could it be? Why would Dukat take it? For that matter, why was Dukat suddenly so interested in him? For whatever reason, the gul had tried hard to distract him, and he had succeeded. But who could he call on for help? Not Kira or Odo--their personal feelings might still be too wound up with him.

"Bashir to Dax," he said, hitting his badge.

"Dax here."

"Jadzia, I need your help right away," he said without hesitation. "Can you come to the infirmary?"

Dukat cooled his heels at Quark's for quite a while, waiting for Denona to arrive. When she didn't, he began to get angry. How long did Garak think he was supposed to use her? Dukat's own sense of triumph in his domination of Bashir was already starting to fade, tempered as it was by his vague sense of being a pawn in their game. He left the bar abruptly and started for the habitat ring. If he had to go to Garak's door and look for her, he'd make her pay for it later, but he had to know what Garak was doing with her.

He reached the door and hit the summons much too hard.

"Come," Garak's voice said curtly.

Dukat walked into a well-appointed set of rooms, obviously occupied by someone who planned to remain on the station for quite a while. He smiled to see that Garak understood the permanence of his exile. Denona stood still, facing him, and Garak came out of the sleeping alcove.

"Dukat," he said, nodding roughly, "why are you here?"

"Why?" Dukat echoed in surprise. "I'm here to gather up my slave and leave. When I lent her to you, I thought you'd have the courtesy to give her back."

Garak laughed, and Dukat understood that he'd lost a round, that his words had involuntarily implied a compliment about Garak's sexual prowess. "Your lieutenant has finished here," he said carefully. "And how is my young doctor?"

Dukat realized with a surge of amazement that Garak had no inkling that Bashir would submit to him. He could pay his old rival back tenfold with this delightful blow to his pride.

"_Your_ young doctor has been well-fucked today. All in your name, of course," he continued. Seeing Garak's unguarded astonishment, Dukat realized that he need not prevaricate--the truth would serve better than any lie he could possibly invent. "It's true. As soon as he heard that you had sold him to me for an hour's pleasure with Denona, he cooperated perfectly. He even seemed to enjoy it." Dukat raised his eyebrows to emphasize this last point as Garak's face took on a greenish tint. "But you don't need to take my word for it..." Dukat looked at his lieutenant and felt his anger rise again. There was no need to overstay his welcome and spoil the effect. "Denona," he snapped, and she fell into step at his heels. The door hissed closed behind them.

Jadzia put her arms around Julian and drew him against her breast. "Julian, what is it?" she asked gently. "Did Garak do something to you?"

"Garak and Nerys and Odo," he said in a trembling voice, and the whole story poured out as Jadzia listened, understanding and wondering and planning all at once.

"Odo only meant to get Garak to reject you," she said with conviction. "Garak decided that, if you played bondage games with Nerys, that he really could convince you to be his slave. Nerys--I don't know what happened to Nerys. She lost her temper, she was jealous of Garak. I don't know. But I'm sure she's sorry for what she did now. But, first things first. You've hurt Odo terribly, and he's hurt you. Go to him. He'll be gentle with you."

"But he told Garak--"

"He needs you. He thought you'd come back to him. Odo won't hurt you."

"He did before."

Dax laughed softly. "Compared to what what's happened to you since?"

"No." Bashir voice was muffled by her shoulder and his tears.

Dax brushed his cheek with her hand. "I'll find your tricorder. I'll get to the bottom of this mystery with the containers. But you have to go to Odo."

Julian took a deep breath and detached his wet face from her shoulder. "I have to talk to Garak first."

"Don't, Julian. He has too much influence over you."

"I want him to," Julian breathed.

"Julian, no. It isn't right."

"It feels right," he said. "I have to tell him what happened with Dukat. I have to tell him what he did to me. I have to tell him that he owns me." His voice sounded strangled, as if someone were pressing a thumb against the base of his throat.

"He doesn't own you," Jadzia cried, taking him by the shoulders. "Julian, that's nonsense. Maybe he excites you more than anyone else, but he--"

"I have to see him." Julian pushed away from her and staggered towards the door.

"Julian!"

He stopped for a moment and turned back to her. "If you want to help me, Jadzia, don't interfere. Please. Just find out what Dukat was trying to distract my attention from."

"He certainly did a good job," she commented, raising a critical eyebrow.

Julian let a faint smile play over his wan face. "That doesn't matter. I've just learned that Garak knows me better than I know myself." He walked out of the infirmary, apparently steadier now. Jadzia let him go. She was sure that the mystery of these containers held some significance for the station, and for Bajor. Turning regretfully back to the containers, she activated her tricorder.

Two pairs of hard Cardassian boots clicked along the Promenade. Dukat's voice rose above the distant racket of Quark's dabo wheels. "What happened with Garak?" When Dukat didn't look at her, Denona knew that he cared about the answer more than he let on.

"I did what I was told," she answered curtly.

"And what was that?" Dukat asked, with a dangerous edge to his voice.

"I fucked him," she said evenly. "I think he came four or five times."

Dukat stopped walking and grabbed her arm, forcing her to face him. "And how many times did _you_ come?"

She looked at him impassively, hiding her tumultuous feelings with difficulty. If she told him, he might punish her. He might even drop her from his service, do his best to ruin her career. She knew that the wise course would be to lie, to say that she hadn't come at all, or perhaps only once. But the glow from that session with Garak was still on her, and something in her belly twisted in revulsion at the thought of ever going back to her old life.

"I really couldn't count them," she said softly, so that he had to strain to hear her on the noisy Promenade. "I came at least once when he sucked my breasts, and a few more times when I was on top of him. Then he licked my clitoris until I--" The blow wasn't unexpected, but it was hard. She turned her face slowly back to him. "If you didn't want to know, why did you ask?" she said recklessly.

Dukat glared into her eyes as if he wanted to kill her with his bare hands. She had never seen him tremble so, even in the throes of passion.

"What happened between you and that poor young doctor?" she continued spitefully. "At least I was a match for Garak, but you must have torn Bashir apart when you raped him."

"I didn't rape him," Dukat said as a nasty smile spread across his features. "He asked to service me, and I let him. And I got no defiance from him," he lied, "which is more than I can say for you. All this time I've protected you, made sure you got your promotions, kept you away from the bad assignments--"

She had gone so far that she knew her only chance was to go all the way. "Well, maybe it's time I went back to getting ahead on my own merits. I was a good soldier until you got hold of me- -now I'm just a sex slave. It's humiliating! You keep me out of the hard assignments, so how can I hone my skills? It's making me soft."

"Any time you want to go back to the barracks, my dear, just say the word, and I'll--"

"I do want to go back," she said with flashing eyes. "And if you try to stop me from advancing in rank, everyone will know it's just out of spite."

Dukat held his hands out innocently. "I wouldn't do that," he said in a dangerous tone. "But I'll find another young officer to take on soon enough, so I hope you weren't thinking of changing your mind."

"Don't worry," she said, and stalked off down the Promenade, feeling a rush of exhilaration in her new-found freedom.

Cardassian Lessons

(A Sequel to _Garak's Revenge_)

(c) 1995 by Mary E.

marye@trekfiction.net

Chapter Four: Be Careful What You Wish For

"Come." To Julian, standing in the drafty habitat ring, Garak's voice sounded like the knell of his defeat. The door slid open, and Julian saw him standing there with a puzzled and expectant look on his face. "Julian," he said, "Dukat just told me--"

Julian entered quickly and knelt before him, folding his arms and bowing his head. "Master," he breathed.

Garak made a small sound, whether of pleasure or surprise, Julian did not bother to wonder. He knelt trembling on the carpet, waiting to feel Garak's strong hands pull him roughly to his feet, bind his hands together, use him, send him on a long, spiraling fall into dark pleasure...

Gentle hands took his face and raised it. "Julian," Garak said quietly, "what did Dukat do to you?"

Opening his eyes, Julian saw that Garak had knelt, too, and was regarding him with an expression bordering on horror. "He... you sold me," he choked, unable to say more.

"I told Dukat he could try to seduce you, but I expected you to reject him. I thought he'd end up in the brig." Garak's voice sounded strained and angry. "Julian, believe me, I never intended to give you up to him. Did he force you? He promised he wouldn't--"

"I know." Garak saw that Julian's long eyelashes were laced with tears. "He started to force me, but I told him he didn't have to, that I'd submit. But I didn't submit to him, I submitted to you, because you're right, Garak. You've been right all along. I'm your slave. I want to be your slave. Punish me for staying away from you so long. Please."

Garak stroked his face silently for a few moments. Turning his head, Julian rested his cheek in his master's palm, almost the smoothest spot on that knobby Cardassian hide. The skin felt warm and tight against his face. He wanted to rest, to give up. He wanted Garak to immobilize him, tell him what to do. He wanted to be safe from his thoughts and let Garak show him what he most desired.

"I learned something today," Garak was saying softly. Julian wasn't sure if Garak had been talking for seconds or minutes, but the voice was a comfort. He tried to listen to it. "Do you want to know what I learned? It was about my feelings for you, about how you've changed me. I wanted to take Denona as brutally as possible. Through her I thought I could get rid of my frustrations about you and take revenge on Dukat at the same time. But I found that I couldn't enjoy what I did to her unless she enjoyed it, too. I thought I was fascinated with you because you refused to submit. I thought that I wanted you to submit. Julian, I learned today that I'm a fool."

"No, Garak. You were right. And you've won." Julian's voice was almost a sigh, as he leaned more and more weight against Garak's strong hand.

"Call me Elim, Julian. Please."

Julian raised his head sharply. "I can't call my master 'Elim,'" he cried helplessly. "Why are you rejecting me? I don't want to think anymore. I want you to take over. Please, Garak!" He clutched at Garak's hands.

The anguish in Julian's last cry wrung Garak's heart in a way it hadn't been touched in years. He shook off Julian's hands and stood over him, watching him sob convulsively. To see Julian weeping at his feet, finally his... A burning tremor of lust and triumph ran through his chest and settled achingly in his groin. He clenched his fists, trying to quash it.

"I want to punish you," he said finally, "but I can't. I was wrong to interfere between you and Major Kira. I thought that if you played at bondage games, you wanted the real thing. But you wanted it too much. I never understood that you couldn't give in to your weakness without tearing yourself apart. For Cardassians, power is fluid. We seek it, but we also acknowledge its absence. A Cardassian youth in your place would have admitted his enslavement to me if I could make him want me in spite of himself. And he would have taken the opportunity to learn, so that one day he might master someone else. But you had no such ambition. You wanted to please me. That was all."

When Julian glanced up, he saw that Garak had pressed a hand over his own eyes. Julian stood unsteadily. "Of course I want to please you, Garak," he said miserably. "I don't know what else to do."

"Go to Odo," Garak said in a hoarse voice. "I've broken you. I've given you the means to degrade yourself. And, by the gods, I want nothing better at this moment than to beat you soundly. Go away from me before I get the whip."

"Then punish me," Julian cried, "please! I can't take responsibility for this anymore. Please, Garak! You won't even have to tie me down."

Garak's blood rushed in his ears, and his body began to sing with arousal as his mind cried out to be heard over the din of his lust. "I'm used to punishing Cardassians who don't let the punishment go to the core of their being. I've damaged your soul. You need comfort, not punishment, and I can't give it to you. Go to Odo. Or Kira. Just leave me."

He grabbed Julian's wrists and pulled him forward. With a sigh of relief, Julian pressed his face against Garak's chest and heard the chirp of his own comm badge. "Garak to Odo."

"Garak? What are you doing on Dr. Bashir's frequency?" came Odo's suspicious voice.

"Dr. Bashir needs you. He's waiting for you in my quarters."

"If you've hurt him, Garak--"

"Garak out." Julian felt Garak's lips brush his forehead, and the next thing he knew, the Cardassian's hard body had detached itself from his and walked quickly out the door, abandoning him. He let himself fall slowly to the floor and rolled into a ball, holding his knees tightly to his chest as if trying to keep some warmth inside.

Dukat sat alone at a table on the second level of Quark's, tilting a glass of kanaar absently in his hand. After trying unsuccessfully to avoid thinking of Denona for several hours, he was finally facing up to his failure. In his single-minded devotion to this mission, he had lost her.

Rather, he had given her a reason to reproach him. And she was right--he hadn't given her pleasure, but had only thought of his own, hoping to keep her from thinking of him too familiarly. He wanted to be her master, not her lover. By giving her to someone who acted like a lover, he had shown her what she was missing--Garak, of all people, had shown her! Now he had a difficult choice to make. He could let her go, essentially conceding that he couldn't satisfy her, or he could try to get her back and show her that he could surpass Garak if he deigned to make the effort. In the second case, however, he saw no way to approach her without admitting that he had been at fault. If he admitted a fault, then he would never completely master her again, and their relationship would suddenly become much less comfortable for him. Was she worth it?

He thought of her loyalty, her sharp intellect, her obedience--she also questioned him sometimes, but he tolerated it because she saw situations differently than he did and was often able to add a certain subtlety to his plans. This time, for instance--why hadn't he listened to her? Dukat had known that distracting the doctor from the containers was the key to everything, but Denona had suggested that she be the one to seduce him. Dukat had let his suspicions get the better of him. If she asked to seduce the doctor, perhaps she was attracted to him. How much better it had seemed--and how humiliating--to send her to Garak, a powerless exile...

Dukat put his glass down deliberately. He had been wrong, of course. She felt only pity for Bashir, nothing more. But what exactly did she feel for Garak? He feared that this day would come back to haunt him for some time. All he could do now was minimize the damage. The moment to take action had arrived.

"Lieutenant," he ordered, pressing his communicator, "meet me in my quarters immediately."

Dax pulled Julian's tricorder out of her board in Ops. There was no doubt that its memory had been deliberately purged. It could have accidentally fallen behind the trunk where she'd found it, but someone had tampered with it first, and that implied it had been hidden deliberately. As for the containers themselves--

She picked up the Cardassian dataclips she'd found in one container's false bottom. Julian was right, and not everyone would have noticed the anomalous readings. The clips had been placed under a thin sheet of deuterium--not easily detected by tricorder, but visually very obvious when she had finished emptying the container of its bandages and antiseptic. Was that the idea? Had the Cardassians planted these clips in the hope that the Bajorans would find them after the supplies had been delivered?

She hit her comm badge. "Benjamin, I need to see you right away."

"Come up," he said curtly, and she was already halfway up the steps to his office as the door opened for her.

"What is it, Old Man?" he asked, seeing her face.

"It seems that Dukat was trying to take advantage of the reparations to plant certain information with the Provisional Government." Quickly, she summarized what she had found. "Julian first noticed the readings," she added, wanting to give him credit for the discovery.

Sisko was silent for a moment. "Why isn't the doctor here? I gave the assignment to him."

"Benjamin, Julian isn't feeling especially well right now."

"Oh?"

Dax had thought about what to say, but now she felt unsure of Benjamin's mood. "Dukat manipulated him to try to distract him from the containers. Julian was so upset, he asked me to investigate and verify his suspicions. Every time he tried to look into them himself, Dukat found another way to keep him from doing it."

Benjamin put a finger to his lips and considered. "I've noticed for some time that Julian seems distraught. Do you know what's going on with him?"

Dax nodded. "I'd rather not go into detail, Benjamin. But I'm hoping he can work things out with Odo, and maybe even with Garak--"

"Garak?"

"They've been--"

"Lovers?"

"Yes. Did you know?"

"Until this moment, I hadn't really thought about it. But it makes perfect sense." He started at her blankly for a few seconds before comprehension started to dawn in his eyes. "And Dukat tried to come between them?"

"In a way," Dax said carefully. "He wanted to distract Julian, and he probably saw a good way to get back at his old rival at the same time."

Sisko's fingers tapped the desk softly. "Old Man, I'll take care of him. I want you to find out where Julian is. Make sure he gets help if he needs it. I'll keep Dukat busy for the rest of his stay here, which won't be long."

Jadzia smiled faintly and left.

It was mid-shift in the station's schedule, and Odo had managed to carry Julian from Garak's quarters to the doctor's own without meeting anyone in the habitat ring.

"Here we are, Julian. You're home," he said gently, laying the doctor on the bed.

"Garak," Julian murmured, "don't leave me, please."

"It's Odo. I found you in Garak's quarters. "What did he do to you?"

Julian's eyes opened wide. "These aren't Garak's quarters! They're mine! Where is he? I just wanted to tell him one more thing."

"He asked me to come and get you," Odo said, starting to feel shaky with emotion and willing himself not to dissolve. "He didn't say what had happened."

"Nothing," Julian said hollowly. "Nothing. After all this time, I finally told him I'd serve him, and he left me alone."

"You're not alone, Julian. I'm here," Odo said desperately. He wondered whether he should call Dax or Kira. Julian's mind seemed to be wandering, and Odo had little experience with such things. He touched his communicator. "Odo to Kira."

"Kira here."

"I need your help with Julian," Odo said without preamble. "I know we haven't been speaking lately, but--"

"I'm on my way."

He wondered where she had been and whether his strange message had attracted anyone's attention. Well, it didn't really matter. All that mattered was making Julian right again.

When the doctor started shaking convulsively, Odo covered him with a blanket, but it didn't seem to help, so he dissolved instead and rocked Julian softly in his warm, liquid embrace. Julian moaned and dozed fitfully between small shocks that suddenly ran through his nerves, making him start awake before sinking back into Odo's comforting substance.

The door chime made Odo start, too, although he'd been expecting it. "Come," he said, reforming a mouth with difficulty. He suddenly felt sluggish and realized that Julian's feelings were being communicated through his skin. When they were lovers, Julian's excitement and affection had always entered Odo's consciousness directly. Now, dark, unfamiliar feelings coursed through him in a steady current. He was frightened and suddenly felt relieved that he'd thought to summon Nerys. She approached them slowly and squatted down next to the bed.

"Poor Julian," she said with a tremor in her voice as she reached out a hesitant hand to stroke his hair. "We've hurt you so badly."

"Do you know what happened to him?" Odo asked thickly. "He couldn't tell me anything."

"I've just spoken with Garak," Kira said, and she told him all about Dukat, sparing him nothing.

"Nerys!" Julian sat up suddenly, floundering in Odo's soft tendrils. She moved closer and let him embrace her, glad to feel him in her arms again.

"It's all right, Julian. Odo and I are here. Please, tell us what we can do to help you."

"No one can help me," he said hollowly. "I'm 29 years old and I haven't done a thing with my life."

"That's not true," Odo said indignantly, "you're the Chief Medical Officer of this station."

"Ah, but I could be high up in Star Fleet Medical by now. I could be married; I could have children. I might have grown up..." Kira and Odo exchanged a worried glance.

"Julian," Kira began hesitantly, "there's no use worrying about what might have been. You've accomplished more than most people your age even dream of. Just think--"

Shaking his head, Julian interrupted. "I undermine myself before I can accomplish anything. I was almost first in my class, but I answered a question wrong on purpose. I even gave up tennis when I knew I might be too good at it. I couldn't handle the pressure." Covering his face with his hands, he sobbed convulsively. "The three of you were there, at the castle--you were trying to punish me!" He was starting to talk wildly now, and Nerys just wanted to quiet him, but she wasn't sure whether to deny or agree with the outlandish things he had just said.

"No, Julian, it was just a dream," she said in a soothing voice.

"No!" he said angrily. "It's all true!"

Instead of answering, Nerys held him and caressed his hair softly. Gradually she felt his muscles relax as he let himself sink back into Odo. Her mind filled up with voices, and all her thoughts dissolved into whispery fragments of times with Odo and Julian, times that had seemed so joyous but somehow led to this. Her eyes burned, and she suppressed a sob against Julian's shoulder.

"Nerys." She raised her head to find that Julian was finally fast asleep, and Odo had partially reformed. He regarded her with pity.

"Can you ever forgive me?" she asked with tears in her eyes. "Do you think he can?"

"I have nothing to forgive you for," Odo said indistinctly. "It was Garak--"

"No." Nerys shook her head and brushed her hand across her eyes. "Garak let him go, don't you see? Garak spared him. Julian actually went there and begged Garak to beat him, but Garak sent him to you instead."

"Why?"

She ran her spread fingers through Odo's liquidity. "I suppose he loves him."

"Garak loves Julian." It wasn't a question, but Odo's tone betrayed his surprise.

"Why not?"

"Because I didn't want to believe it."

Nerys laughed through her tears. "Ever since the night I whipped Julian, I seem to be able to identify with Garak. When I talked to him just now, I actually felt sorry for him." She sighed and put her hand to her eyes.

Dissolving completely, Odo flowed around Nerys, urging her onto the bed. She let him take her into his embrace, realizing how much she'd missed it, missed her encounters with him and Julian together that seemed to become far less frequent after she and Julian had started playing more serious bondage games. And why had they done it? Because Julian's encounters with Garak had taught him to enjoy mixing power games with sex, and Julian in turn had taught her. And Odo, who had already had an unfortunate encounter with Dukat when he first arrived on the station so long ago, warned her it was dangerous, but she hadn't listened. In fact, she hadn't realized the danger until Garak had intervened and tempted her to give Julian the real beating he seemed to be courting. She remembered that night as she floated lazily in Odo's embrace. Reaching out, she took Julian gently into her arms and held him softly while Odo rocked them both.

The door opened on a darken