Garak shifted uneasily as he attempted to find a more comfortable position to sit in. It was an impossible task as his arms were chained above his head and his bottom rested upon the cold and uneven surface of the stone floor.
Trust Dukat to choose a vacation home that was both gauche and cliché.
Julian, also uncomfortable and attempting to arrange his arms so that they would not go numb, occasionally glared over in the Cardassian’s direction muttering unintelligible curses.
“Doctor, your childish sulking is getting quite tiresome. If there is something you’d like to say…”
“Oh, there are plenty of things I could say right now! Most of them obscene and certainly in violation of the Hippocratic oath,” he said darkly.
“I take it that you blame me for our capture?” Garak asked with a raised eyeridge.
Bashir’s jaw dropped in surprise, “Yes! What? Are you implying that this isn’t all your fault?”
“Actually doctor, I’m not attempting to imply anything. If I were to lay the blame at anyone’s feet though, it would be at your own.”
“You’re saying it’s my fault?!?” Julian was taken aback, “How in the hell did you come to that conclusion, might I ask?”
“Simply put, had you not interfered with my plans to begin with, the mission wouldn’t have failed,” he shrugged.
“How in hell did I interfere with your plans? You’re the one who kidnapped me!” Julian expounded in outrage.
“You kept distracting me,” Garak replied, “Obviously that caused me to overlook a discrepancy on the monitors. Either that or Federation technology isn’t as reliable as your people tend to believe.”
“You are…you are…” Julian’s chains rattled against the stone walls as he turned toward the Cardassian, “You are the most frustrating and bull headed person I have ever met!”
Garak smiled at him pleasantly, “Why, thank you. Tenacity is viewed as a valued attribute to my people.”
“Oh shut up,” Julian snapped.
“Your friendship with the chief has made you quite surly of late, doctor,” Garak sniffed in distaste, “I used to think of you as well mannered.”
Julian stewed for precisely two seconds before turning again to the Cardassian, his chains rattling in protest, “Just answer one question for me Garak; why did you decide to come all this way? Why go to all this trouble, and don’t say it was to save Kira. I’m not stupid.”
“The truth?” Garak looked at him from the corner of his eye.
“That would be a novel experience, wouldn’t it? Yes—the truth,” came the sarcastic rejoinder.
“I was bored.”
Julian went still, “What?”
He shrugged, “I was bored. All I had these days was codes and staff meetings, so when I happened upon this information, I decided to pursue it.”
Julian remained unresponsive so Garak turned to look at his companion, his own chains rattling against the stone walls, “You did ask, remember?”
The human lightly rested the back of his head against the wall, “You were…bored.”
“Well, I could have come up with a far more dramatic reason, doctor, but you were rather insistent upon hearing the truth.”
“From now on, Garak—lie to me,” Julian winced at the sudden pain in his temples, “Better yet, just don’t talk to me at all, okay?”
“Very well,” he shrugged.
Both men looked toward the tall, lanky Cardassian approaching them from the doorway. Gul Dukat was clapping and grinning broadly, “Oh my, this will prove to be most entertaining!”
Garak looked at his life-long enemy through narrowed eyes, “And what, pray tell, is this?”
Dukat looked down at them both and slowly smiled his once intelligent eyes now suffused with madness; “This is the primordial struggle between good and evil! This is life and death itself!” he stopped and cocked his head as though listening to a silent voice for a moment, “Well, your life and death, that is.”
Two human men came in and approached both the prisoners, quickly injecting them with some sort of chemical. Just before Julian lost consciousness, he heard Dukat repeat the words, “Don’t worry, it won’t be long, I assure you.”
Hours later, as Garak forced himself to breath through the incredible pain brought on by the whip which was slowly skinning him alive, he almost wished the rest of his life would rush toward that rapid conclusion as promised by Dukat.
Again and again, the leather bit deeply into the tender and abused flesh of his back. He wasn’t surprised by Dukat’s torture methods, he had been whipped before, but his tormentor was particularly adept at her task not to mention the fact that she was also quite enthusiastic.
“Kira!” Bashir strained against his bonds, his face now a tortured canvas which served as a silent witness to his own torments. His left eye was swollen shut and his bottom lip was split and still bleeding. “Nerys! Stop this!”
Had Garak the strength to speak he would have told Julian that reasoning with the Bajoran woman was futile. Whatever drugs Dukat had her on were very effective. The pale and fine boned features of her face were now contorted with a madness reflective of her ‘master’s’ own. Again and again her arm flashed through the air and again and again the blows she delivered to his bloody back proved accurate and deep.
“Oh do be quiet Bashir.” Dukat sat back in his plush chair and absently toyed with the stem of his glass. “You’re distracting her.”
“Stop this Dukat.” Julian glared murderously at the Cardassian. “She’s killing him!”
Dukat yawned and sipped at his drink. “You always were rather melodramatic, Doctor.”
Nevertheless, ten blows later Dukat called out to the Colonel to cease her torture of the exhausted and weak tailor.
Garak hung in the chains for an extended moment, his flesh burning and his throat raw from his unuttered screams. At the sound of Dukat’s voice, Kira allowed the whip to fall upon the cold floor and woodenly walked toward the seated Cardassian as if to await further instruction.
“Garak!” Bashir called out raggedly, “Garak, are you all right?”
Forcing a small weak smile upon his bitten and torn lips, Garak chuckled hoarsely, “Absolutely doctor, in fact this whole scenario brings back some rather *kaff* pleasant memories.” He lifted his head and forced back the sudden rush of pain induced tears, “Of course, I was on the other end of the whip at the time.”
Dukat grinned, placing his glass upon a small table beside his chair. “The one thing I always admired about you Garak was your positive outlook in even the most trying circumstances. Well put!”
“One does try,” Garak commented sarcastically before falling into a coughing fit.
Bashir began to pull against his chains once more. “Damn you, Dukat! He needs medical attention—release me!”
Dukat rolled his eyes as Kira dropped to her knees and laid her head upon his thigh. As if stoking a cat, he absently began to run his hand over her hair and spoke to her in a pleasant if odd tone, “Are you enjoying yourself my darling? Would you like to play with the doctor next, Nerys?”
Kira remained silent as she leaned into his caresses, her own hands busily massaging his inner thighs as her breath came in quick excited gasps.
“Oh yes, you are enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” His voice now held a singsong quality to it. “Pretty little Nerys. Pretty, pretty girl.”
“I don’t mind dying, Dukat,” Garak croaked out, “but spare us the side show if you would.”
Dukat’s mouth quirked up slightly as he flicked his eyes briefly toward Garak, still running long greyish fingers through Kira’s short auburn hair. “You never did appreciate women, did you Elim?” He stroked her face, smiling as her mouth opened and suckled at his fingertips, “Their beauty, their softness…no, you never did. You didn’t even appreciate my daughter’s beauty, did you? You merely used Ziyal then destroyed her.”
“I…cared deeply for Ziyal,” Garak protested weakly.
“You never cared about anyone or anything in your entire life, Garak. You are a monster.” His smiled and kissed Kira lightly upon her lips, still speaking to Garak as he nibbled gently at a purring Kira’s ear, “A murdering sociopath, that’s what you are and always have been. I’m going to enjoy killing you slowly.”
“What are you?” Bashir retorted his face livid. “You’re not only a murdering bastard but a rapist! You had to drug Kira so that she would allow you to touch her!” He spat out the words venomously, “You didn’t give a damn about Ziyal! If you did you wouldn’t have drugged the woman she loved like a sister then treated her like a common whore!”
Dukat arose with a catlike grace and crossed to room to deliver a powerful blow across Bashir’s mouth with the back of his hand. Blood sprayed from the physician’s much abused mouth as he grunted in pain from both the sudden strike and the wrenching his arms took as they twisted in the chains that bound him to the wall. Dukat cocked his head to the side in a bird-like gesture and grinned at the gasping human. “You always have to meddle in matters that don’t concern you, don’t you Dr. Bashir?” He bent slightly at the waist and looked directly into the other man’s eyes, “That’s a very dangerous habit.”
Dukat turned and gestured to Kira who followed him out of the room silently. “Clean them up then put them back in the ‘guest quarters’,” Dukat ordered the two dark clothed humans guarding the entrance to the chamber. This time though, as the hypospray hissed against his neck, Bashir was grateful for the oblivion it brought. Garak was unconscious before they reached for him.
Garak awoke to the unpleasant sensation of cold water being thrown in his face. Unwittingly, he inhaled what felt like an enormous amount of the salty cold liquid and choked as it burned his nostrils, nearly strangling him. As the second torrent came, he held his breath then gasped as the salt hit the still fresh wounds of his back. He shook with cold and numbly recognised the sound of the doctor’s voice as he muttered obscenities and also choked upon the foul water. Their guards then left them cold and shivering alone in their cell, again without so much as a word.
“Th-these g-gentlemen are qu-quite the conver-versationalists, w-wouldn’t you agree, d-doctor?” Garak attempted to smile despite his chattering teeth.
“I-I d-don’t find this at all amusing, G-Garak,” the human replied through tight blue-tinged lips.
“Me n-neither, truth b-be told.”
Unexpectedly, Julian let out a sharp bark of laughter. “I think that’s the second honest thing you’ve said to me, Garak.”
Garak controlled his shivering long enough to mutter, “Oh, I’ve told you the truth many times before, y-you just never noticed.”
The other man sighed and rolled his neck attempting to make himself more comfortable while trying to get his shivering under control. “I don’t want to fight with you, Garak. I have too many things to worry about right now to get into another debate.” Julian shuddered and drew his arms as close as the chains would allow. “In case you hadn’t noticed we’re not in the replimat.”
“I wish we were,” Garak shuffled his chained legs and feet, “Even badly replicated food and contrived romantic prose would be better than this.”
“I’m so hungry I could even manage a plate of rabid gagh!”
“I don’t know if I’m quite that hungry yet, doctor.” Garak winced and stopped for a moment before again shuffling and stomping his feet for warmth.
Julian looked at the pale complexion of his companion in concern; “We have to get out of here. If we stay much longer Dukat’s either going to torture us to death or we’ll die from exposure.”
“An excellent suggestion, doctor. Now, how exactly were you planning on freeing us?”
“I don’t know yet, Garak! Frankly though, I’m half tempted to leave you chained to Dukat’s wall for getting me into this mess—sorry, yet another mess!”
Garak smiled at the biting sarcasm in the doctor’s rant, “That’s much better. I think I prefer you in our adversarial lunch mode to this posture of a condemned prisoner you’ve been taking on.”
“Why? Because you enjoy pissing me off?” Bashir scowled as he tried the locks on his chains.
“No, because I know that when we’re in a debate you enjoy nothing more than proving me wrong and right now I’m fairly certain we aren’t getting out of this alive.”
“In case I didn’t mention it or make it clear to you before, this new policy of telling the truth was a very bad idea. I do believe I’d much rather have the lies, thank you.”
“You’re both so entertaining!”
Both men fell silent as Dukat
strolled into the room with Kira and the two guards at their side. The
ever-silent human attendants stopped and stood at on either side of the
door watching them all with professional detachment. Kira and Dukat both
wore long cloaks of scarlet that were embroidered richly in some sort of
gold thread. The overdone costumes and stiffly regal pose the other Cardassian
had assumed spoke volumes about just how forgone his sanity truly was.
Garak gave a mocking nod; “I’m pleased that we could offer you some enjoyment through our discomfort, Dukat.”
“Oh yes, believe me you have most certainly made my life far more enjoyable in the last day or so.” He smiled at Garak with glittering malice, “I only wish I could keep you alive longer. Truly, my old friend, though you may have been a proverbial thorn in my side for more years than I can count at least you have made them interesting.”
Bashir grimaced and made a small sound of disgust as he watched Dukat slither toward his companion.
“You have something to say, Doctor?” Dukat asked expectantly.
The smooth faced human’s expression could be likened to granite, “Actually, yes.”
Dukat waited for an exaggerated moment before shrugging, “Well?”
Julian turned toward Garak, “If we live through this, I never want to hear you complain about how overdone Earth literature is again. I feel as though I’m trapped in a badly rendered Cardassian melodrama!”
Dukat began to laugh uproariously as great rolling tears of mirth wet his cheeks and the stone walls amplified the sound. Kira tittered drunkenly in chorus while Garak and Bashir both looked on grimly.
“Such wit, doctor! Such bravado even when faced with your inevitable death!” He grinned and leaned in closer, “I’ll miss that about you.”
“I hear a lot of talk, but have yet to see much action on your part,” Garak responded with insulting calmness, “A beating and some cold water and we’re supposed to beg for mercy? Forgive me, but you really must be mad if you think that either myself or the good doctor could be so easily defeated."
“Oh, but you have been defeated, my good man.” Dukat chuckled as he rounded the pair, examining their chains as he passed; “Captured, chained, and defeated…you just haven’t quite accepted it yet.” Garak snorted derisively but Dukat continued, “You’re right though, I’m not done playing with you yet. I have other ideas about how to make the rest of your brief lives interesting.”
“Oh joy.” Bashir’s response was heavy with sarcasm.
“Actually, you may enjoy the next stage of our little…how did you put it? Our ‘melodrama’?” Dukat smiled slyly, “In fact, I’m counting on it.”
The human gave his tormentor a scathing look, “I’m sure you are. You do realise that as soon as Captain Sisko realises that Garak and I are missing he’ll send out a search party?”
“And won’t that be fun!” Dukat nodded with a laugh as another set of guards entered the room with what appeared to be a throne and a small black case. Dukat fell bonelessly into the large ornate chair and casually draped one leg over the arm as the two new guards left only to be replaced by an elderly manservant in formal clothing wheeling a large food laden cart, “Oh good. Lunch!”
Dukat examined the various dishes before turning again to his captives, “I do hope you don’t mind me eating in front of you.” He allowed the servant to pour him a glass of fruit juice and then held it up in mock salute. “If it’s of any comfort, I don’t believe you’ll really have time to notice, isn’t that right Kira darling?”
Kira fell to her knees and began to crawl on all fours toward Dukat while making animalistic sounds from deep in her throat. She ran her hands over his taut thighs and licked his hand like a lapdog would.
“Stand up, my dear. It’s time to play with our little friends now.”
Kira stood slowly and obediently turned toward the two captive men. She walked toward the wall, her steps even and graceful despite her drugged state. As she touched a panel on the stone wall, Garak and Julian’s arms were suddenly wrenched tight as their chains were pulled upward giving them no slack in which to manoeuvre.
Both men hissed in sudden pain as Kira smiled and walked toward her ‘master’.
“Now the bag.” He instructed her as he ate his dinner with a profane casualness.
The Bajoran woman then picked up the bag and placed it before the two moaning captives. She then straightened her back and then slowly began to peel the robe away revealing a thin tight leather body casing—so thin that her proud nipples were clearly defined beneath it.
Dukat nodded silently to the human servant who then chose a large, ornate knife from the tray before approaching Kira and handing it to her with a polite flourish.
“Madam.” He nodded politely as she took the proffered weapon then resumed his place beside Dukat.
Kira looked at the gleaming blade for a long moment before finally speaking in an eerie, almost childlike voice. “Cardie scum…”
Slowly she approached Garak who watched her in a stoic silence; her face almost rapturous as she rubbed the cold flat of the blade against her hard nipples and down her smooth, leather encased stomach. “Kill the Cardie bastards dead. Stab them, hurt them…”
“Kira.” Bashir’s voice was small and raspy as he watched her deadly progress toward the chained Cardassian. “Nerys…put down the knife, Nerys.”
With the sharp blade she carefully traced the ridges of Garak’s face, barely allowing the knife’s edge to make contact. “Stab you with my shiny blade…” She suddenly stabbed downward causing Garak to tense in sudden fear and Julian to gasp in shock. “let you feel my hate.”
She smiled at his reaction as she slowly cut his clothing away from his tense body, the tip of the weapon lightly scraping the delicate scaled flesh of his chest leaving thin bloody streaks in it’s path. When she had cut open his tunic and trousers, she stood up placing the knife between her strong, whit e teeth and running her hands across his shoulders slicing the material as it bunched at his chained wrists then again down his torso toward his thighs. She brushed away the fabric which was already left in tatters from his previous beating and peeled the bloody rag away from his back causing it to fall to the floor as he hissed with the reopening of several deep lacerations. She smiled as she revealed his silken shorts then fell to her knees, holding the blade in one hand as the other caressed and stroked his penis through the thin material. Garak gritted his teeth to prevent himself from betraying his panic as she ran the sharp edge over his crotch and then inserted it between the elastic and his genitals.
From his chained position, Bashir squirmed in sympathetic reaction as Dukat chuckled sinisterly. “Terrifying, isn’t it doctor?” he laughed and Bashir swallowed convulsively.
“You’re one sick fuck, Dukat.” The human muttered.
“Ah ah ah! Remember doctor, you’re next.” He turned toward the manservant who was now refilling his glass as though they were the only two people in the room and nothing untoward was happening, “Tell me, Adams, don’t you humans have some sort of traditional surgical procedure involving the mutilation of the penis?” Without waiting for the man’s response he nodded to Bashir congenially, “Circumcision, I believe.”
Garak held his breath as Kira cut away his underwear, exposing him totally. With a gleaming smile she moved away from him and then turned toward her other victim, who looked at her in growing dread. Garak’s eyes followed her in distrust even as she moved away from him and toward Bashir. As she stopped in front of the doctor, she made a show of twisting the blade so that it shimmered and reflected the light prettily.
“YAH!!!” Suddenly she lunged, the knife slicing the cloth on his chest and breaking the surface of the skin causing the human to hiss in pain. Dropping the knife to the floor, she grabbed the ragged material and ripped it away from his body with a snarl, biting the exposed nipples on his chest with a growl.
“Arrgh!” He gasped and attempted to kick her away but she suddenly and cruelly balled up her fist and punched him in the crotch causing him to scream in pain before attempting to instinctively draw up his legs to protect himself.
As he gagged and heaved noisily, she again reached for the knife and cut through his pants and boots. Her fingernails dug into the flesh above his taut buttocks and scraped them downward making him hiss in reaction. She removed his clothing grinning with deliberate cruelty as she bared his tanned flesh that was now streaked with bloody scratches both from his previous encounters with Dukat’s henchmen and Kira’s own ministrations.
When both men were totally nude, Kira turned to the seated Cardassian who was leisurely sipping his soup from a heavy silver spoon. He nodded silently at her unspoken request then put down the spoon to again sip at the juice. Kira cocked her head and smiled at both men with an innocent grin and then pulled out a matching pair of connecting metal rings in various sizes.
As she again approached Garak, he chose to kick at her landing a hard blow to her stomach as she began to bend down. The guards reacted swiftly and with decisive action. From his side, one of the guards produced a pain stick and quickly jabbed Garak on his tender and abused back. He screamed as electricity tore through his body causing the muscles of his chest and arms to knot and spasm uncontrollably while the other aided Kira to her feet once more. Dukat’s attendant stepped away from him and opened the door, whispering to someone in low tones on the other side. The other two guards then entered the room once more and aided their co-workers in placing manacles around the two struggling men’s ankles.
Bashir spat out vile profanities as his feet were secured roughly while Garak merely shuddered and gasped as the last of the shocks wound their way down his spinal cord before shooting back upwards into his skull. Instinctively, he kicked out with his legs but he was easily subdued and the rings were attached around the base of his limp phallus and testicles all the way up to the crown of his shaft. Bashir was harder to control, but after a few blows were landed to his solar plexus he, too, wore both the leg irons and the odd metallic cock rings.
With a snap of his fingers, the older servant dismissed to two exterior guards while the remaining ones slipped again into the background to await further orders. Dukat pushed away his empty dinner plate that was replaced quickly with some sort of confection. He took an appreciative bite. “Mmmm, Adams. You’ve outdone yourself.”
“Thank you, sir.” The man bowed from his waist formally, his voice still calm and polite despite the odd and perverse scene unfolding before them.
Kira stared ahead dumbly and Dukat, as though finally remembering them, addressed her once more. “Tell your guests about their new toys, my dear.”
Kira began to speak again but in a low monotone this time which was almost as terrifying in it’s quiet intensity as the perverted schoolroom rhyme, “Seven gates of hell. To hell with them!”
“Explain what they’re for Nerys.” Dukat didn’t even bother to look up as he continued to enjoy his meal, barely listening to her mad chatter.
“Cardie spoon head pieces of shit! Cock sucking bastards, all of them!”
Dukat finally looked at her in annoyance, putting down his fork with a small, irritated clatter, “The rings, not our guests, Nerys.”
“Make them huuuuuurt…” She moaned ecstatically.
Dukat motioned impatiently for the food cart to be removed as he addressed her once again, “How will they hurt?”
She tittered drunkenly and approached the seated Cardassian. When she neared him, she positioned herself between his thighs and then slowly sank to her knees. “Hurt goooood….”
Garak cleared his throat painfully then rasped out, “Remind me to repay the Colonel for this if we do survive.”
“It’s not her fault,” Bashir squirmed to relieve the ache in his balls from the savage blow dealt only a few minutes earlier, “it’s that son of a bitch, Dukat, that’s to blame for all this.”
“Still, you’ll forgive me if I leave a pin or three in her next formal, won’t you?” Sweat dripped off the Cardassian’s brow and he breathed in and out heavily. He was obviously exhausted, Bashir mentally noted, but then again he, too, felt as though he had run a marathon. Every muscle in his body ached with tension as he steeled himself for the next act in Dukat’s bizarre little play.
“Leave four.” Bashir looked at Kira as she smiled with a malevolence he had only seen one other time and that was in the face of the woman known as the Intendant, her mirror self from another universe they had visited a few years earlier. At the time, their theory had been that those people were their opposites but now he began to wonder if they were actually what each of them could become given the right circumstances. Logically, he knew she was incapable of stopping herself from carrying out Dukat’s orders, but that made her no less deadly and if they did live through all this he’d probably never be able to look at her the same way again.
Dukat gazed deeply into his ‘love’s’ eyes and smiled. “Dance for your friends now, my dear.”
Kira rose to her feet and began to roll her hips to some music that played only in her own mind. As she threw back her head, rolling her neck sensuously, her small hands pushed and kneaded her firm breasts together causing a delightful friction against her nipples. She then moved her hands downward and caressed the muscles of her abdomen then even lower still to her crotch where she masturbated herself slowly through the micro-thin brown leather suit.
“Dance for the spoonhead and his collaborator.”
Slowly, she lowered her body to the ground then flipped over suddenly, her ass high in the air and her thighs wide spread as she continued to pleasure herself. Her cheek touched the ground and she breathed heavily, her mouth wide open and moist.
“Paaaaaiiiiiinnn….” She moaned with smiling euphorically.
Dukat was now fully alert, his eyes riveted to the Bajoran woman. He rose from his throne and approached her with hungering gaze. Kira smiled and laughed breathlessly upon his approach. She stopped pleasuring herself and began to lick at the top of his soft leather boots then parted his robe so that she could kiss his cloth covered inner thighs. Dukat breathed heavily, looking down at her as she manipulated his crotch, chewing and rubbing him through his trousers. Roughly he grabbed her arms and pulled her up as though to kiss her but she moved her face away and began to rub at his chest then slid her own body against his. She turned and rubbed her pert backside against his cock and Dukat gripped her slight hips with his large grey hands and began to pump at her through their clothes.
Bashir groaned pitifully as his penis grew hard despite the disgust he felt at seeing Kira publicly humiliated, the metal rings clamping down upon his rigid member with no little amount of pain. Garak, who had managed to control his own ardour up to this point, felt himself stiffen and grow as the doctor cried out softly, his eyes irresistibly drawn to the other man’s now fully erect and trapped penis.
Dukat had turned Kira so that she faced him and began to kiss his way toward the apex of her thighs. He licked and sucked at her through the leather and used his long tongue to seek out and manipulate her erect clit. Blindly, he groped for the small black bag then dug around in it, his face never leaving the moaning woman’s leather encased cunt. With a groan of triumph her pulled out a silvery phallic shaped instrument and began to rub in up and down the crease of her well-shaped ass. It began to hum and vibrate and small shocks of electricity erupted from the head of the device and caused her to shudder and gasp with orgasmic pleasure.
Both men were now in pain, Bashir shut his eyes tight but the moans and gasps of the lovers could not be ignored. Tears welled up on Garak’s eyes as he bucked hopelessly against the confining torture device and he tried to think of anything but the scent of pheromones and sounds of sexual tension filling the room. His well-trained eyes began to dart across his prison cell, looking for any weaknesses or breaches in security that could offer them an escape route after Dukat and Kira left them once again. It was as his eyes drifted over the embracing couple that he saw something that made him smile slightly despite his discomfort.
“They must have you on some heavy medications, Dukat.” His voice was raspy but triumphant, “I understand that anti-psychotics sometimes have those type of side effects.”
Bashir’s head lolled forward as he looked through sweaty lashes toward the man Garak was addressing, “Wha—“ It was then that he understood.
Despite Kira’s heavy-handed stroking, Dukat’s penis was completely flaccid under the tight breeches he wore. “He’s impotent.” The stress of all they’d been through combined with the peculiar turn of events made Bashir forget for a moment his physician’s oath to be a merciful professional and instead snicker breathlessly.
“Is that why you chose this particular torture technique Dukat? You wanted to see how real men looked?” As Garak laughed triumphantly, Dukat’s face suddenly paled as though he had been struck. With a roar, he threw himself at the two chained men and began to punch Garak over and over as Bashir yelled and rattled the shackles in an attempt to draw the attack away from his friend.
As Garak choked and then fell
unconscious under the heavy blows, Dukat then turned on Bashir and struck
him hard on the temple with his balled up fist. It was the last thing he
would see for quite some time.
Back to the Table of Contents | Part One | Part Two | Part Four